by Melody Grace
What was she thinking? Letitia scolded herself as she climbed the back stairs to her rental. She’d come here to find a steady partner, not a sweaty, irritating, one-night fling! Even if she did know just how good it felt to be locked in those strong arms, with his mouth slowly teasing her lips open…
Nope!
Letitia slammed the back door behind her and caught her breath. This was her hormones talking, all revved up with hopeful expectations from her plan. She had romance on the brain. She shouldn’t be getting herself stuck in small spaces with Mr. All Wrong, she needed to focus her energies on finding her next date. Someone thoughtful, and distinguished, and kind.
Someone who didn’t think commitment was a four-letter word.
Letitia showered and slipped into a cool linen shift dress, then drove up the coast to Provincetown for lunch. It was a larger community on the bay, full of cute cobbled streets, chic boutiques, and fine restaurants, but today, Letitia wasn’t in the mood for fancy linen tablecloths and expensive wine lists. No, she had a craving for something special: the juiciest fried oyster po’boy in town, courtesy of Eddie’s Fish Shack.
“Great minds think alike.”
A woman’s voice came from behind her, just as Letitia stepped through the creaking screen door. She turned. It was a friend of hers, Cassie, her choppy dark hair caught back under a bandana, wearing a pair of funky dungarees that only she could have pulled off.
“Hey,” Letitia greeted her, surprised. “I didn’t think anyone knew about this place.”
“Are you kidding? It’s a well guarded secret.” Cassie said, slurping an icy lemonade. “No telling the tourists, though.”
Letitia grinned. “My lips are sealed,” she promised, before placing her order at the counter. “So, how’s business?” she asked, taking her soda and stepping aside to wait with Cassie. “I heard you’ve got a ton of new work.”
Cassie’s face lit up. “Yes!” She was a talented interior designer, and had just started taking on clients. “After the Westerly estate was featured in all those magazines, my phone’s been ringing 24/7. I didn’t want to turn anyone down, but now, I’m up to my eyeballs in fabric swatches and paint samples,” she said, gesturing to her overflowing shoulder bag. “I guess I should be careful what I wish for.”
Letitia gave her a knowing look. “Come on. You love being the hottest name in town.”
“You’re right, I do.” Cassie laughed.
“I’m actually glad I ran into you,” Letitia said, remembering that list of hers. She paused. Would she seem to desperate for asking?
Who was she kidding? Her pride was negotiable if it led her to Mr. Right. “A few months ago, you mentioned fixing me up with your brother…” Letitia said hopefully. “Well, I was wondering, is he was visiting town this summer?”
From what she’d heard, Aidan Kinsella was an ambitious financier, with a taste for the finer things in life. Put together with the fact that she already got along great with his family, and everything added up to a perfect possibility.
But instead of agreeing, Cassie just looked confused. “He is, but you already knew that.”
Letitia blinked. “I did?”
“I saw you two in town the other day. Before the ambulance arrived. What happened there?” Cassie asked, her eyes widening. “I heard your date collapsed.”
“It was a bee-sting, he’s fine,” she replied, still trying to follow what Cassie had said. “What do you mean about your brother? I haven’t met Aidan yet.”
“Not Aidan,” Cassie replied. “Chase.”
Letitia stopped. Seriously?
“Chase is your brother?” she asked, her voice rising in disbelief.
Cassie looked amused. “Twin brother,” she explained, “by all of twenty-two seconds. People say we look alike, but I guess if you haven’t seen us together...”
Letitia absorbed the news. She could see it now, in their eyes: that same flash of mischief, and the same stubborn streak, too. “Your parents must have had their hands full,” she said, and Cassie grinned.
“We were a nightmare. Good thing we’re so much older and wiser now,” she added, batting her eyelashes innocently, and Letitia laughed.
“Clearly.” She paused, still processing. “I really didn’t realize. I thought he was more of a lone ranger type, staying in that van of his.”
If the man had family here in town, there was really no excuse for camping right outside her door.
Cassie clearly felt the same because she rolled her eyes. “You mean, Berta? That’s what he calls it,” she explained. “I can’t believe there are women who will actually go home with him to that pile of junk.”
“It’s not so bad,” Letitia found herself defending it. “It’s actually kind of cute on the inside.”
Cassie’s eyebrows shot up.
“I mean, from what I’ve seen. From the outside!” Letitia blurted, flushing. “He’s parked right next door.”
“Oh. Well, you have my apologies,” Cassie said, as Eddie called out their orders. “Feel free to go yell at him to keep the music down.”
They went to collect their food from the counter; it looked like Cassie had ordered enough to feed a small village. “I was headed to the beach to eat, if you want to come,” Letitia invited, but Cassie gave a rueful smile.
“Sorry, I’m on a mission. I’m trying to talk Cooper and his work crew into taking on my client’s renovations next. I thought if I showed up with lobster rolls, I could bribe my way to the front of the line.”
“Smart move.” Letitia said. “I mean, I’d be sold.”
“Me too,” Cassie agreed. “Kinsellas will do anything for a good meal.”
“Good luck!”
Letitia took her food and strolled the short distance to the town beach. It was a busy day on the sand, full of families playing in the calm, shallow surf, and teenagers out tanning, and she walked a while until she found a free patch of sand to settle in for lunch.
Mmm… She bit into her po’boy with a happy sigh. There was nothing like a sandwich from Eddie’s, with a soft white roll and his special secret mayo. The man could bottle it, and be a rich man by now.
Letitia paused. Had anyone approached him about the idea? With some seed money, and an established brand licensing the recipe, it would be a straight-forward deal. And if he wanted to franchise the seafood shack—
She stopped herself, before she could whip out her cellphone and develop a plan for world condiment domination. What was she thinking? She already had one extracurricular project. She didn’t need to take on another five while she was here in town! Besides, throwing herself headlong into work instead of putting the same energy into her romantic life was the reason she was still single.
One of the reasons, anyway.
Letitia ate, watching the crowds around her. She knew why it was so tempting to distract herself with work. She’d been doing it for years, as a way of ignoring the wistful ache in her chest, and how much of a failure she felt, always winding up alone. Business made sense to her. Financial reports, and market share analysis: The numbers either added up, or they didn’t. Sure, there were people who took wild risks and had it work out, but if you picked a good prospect, took the long view, and put in the work, then usually, it paid off. Profits increased, customer satisfaction went up. The data never lied.
So what was it that made two people click?
Letitia had been asking herself that for years, but she wasn’t leaving it to chance this time. She’d read every piece of research she could find, distilling the results and studies down into a list of important qualities, the same way she would for any business proposition.
And glistening, tanned abs were nowhere on that list.
She tried not to think about Chase. Was he really a Kinsella? His brothers all seemed so solid and reliable – and able to have a mature, adult relationship. Maybe he was the black sheep, rebelling against the rest of them by roaming around the country, seducing every single woman he could find.
Either way, he wouldn’t be charming her into the back of that van anytime soon. Letitia took a determined bite of her po’boy, vowing to keep her distance.
“Excuse me?”
A male voice came from a few feet away, and Letitia turned to find an older man looking at her. Looking at her mouth, to be exact.
Oh god, did she have secret sauce all over her face?
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but that sandwich looks amazing,” he said. “Where did you get it?”
“Mnugh.” Letitia made an apologetic murmur through her massive mouthful of food.
The man chuckled. “Please, take your time.”
Letitia burned up in embarrassment. Why had he picked that exact moment to ask? She chewed frantically, then washed it down with a gulp of lemonade in case she had lettuce stuck in her teeth.
Which, judging by her luck with men so far this week, she probably did.
“It’s from Eddie’s,” she finally replied. “But I think I’m breaking some kind of local bylaw by telling you, so you didn’t hear it from me.”
The man smiled. “I appreciate it. I’m just visiting for a few weeks,” he added. “So I don’t know any of the best haunts just yet.”
Letitia’s embarrassment faded long enough to take him in. Now that she wasn’t choking over her lunch, she could see, he was actually pretty handsome, in that ‘older man’ kind of way. His dark hair was fading to salt-and-pepper at the edges, and he was wearing a pair of linen slacks with a pale blue polo shirt. He looked distinguished. Understated. And when she snuck a look at his left hand, her smile only grew wider.
No wedding ring.
Letitia fixed him with a friendly beam. “Welcome to the Cape,” she said, smoothing down her dress. “Are you visiting family here, or…?”
“Just a vacation,” he replied. “My kid is always on at me to take a break. So I figured it would stop her nagging, at least.”
Children? “Oh, how old?” she asked, mentally crossing her fingers.
“She’s in college, now,” the man replied, with a rueful smile. “I don’t know where the time goes.”
Letitia smiled. She could work with that.
“Well, there’s plenty of fun things to do here to unwind,” she said. “The beach, golf, sailing… Lots of great events, too.”
“I know,” he replied. “I was just looking at a flyer for the art-walk they have here in town.”
“I’ve heard it’s great,” she told him. “All the galleries stay open late, it’s supposed to be a fun time.”
“Say, I don’t suppose you’d like to check it out with me tonight?” the man asked. “I’m Kenneth, by the way. Kenneth Westingham.”
“Letitia Prescott.” She shook his hand, thrilled. Never mind the special sauce debacle, it looked like she owed Eddie a massive tip for introducing her to this guy!
“And that sounds great,” she beamed, already planning her perfect ‘first date’ outfit. Then she paused. “Wait, just one thing… Do you have any life-threatening allergies?”
Kenneth looked confused. “Not that I know of.”
Letitia exhaled in relief. “Then I can’t wait!”
6
Chase was all set to spend a relaxing evening hanging out by the beach – until he heard the blood-curdling scream echoing from Letitia’s house. He was out of his van before he could stop to think, jumping the low fence and hurtling across the yard.
“Letitia?” he called in panic. Another strangled scream came.
Dear God, what was she doing in there?
Chase burst in through the back door, following the sound to the kitchen—
Where a drenched Letitia was trying desperately to stop the deluge of water from a leaking faucet.
“Jesus Christ, woman!” He bent double to catch his breath, heart hammering double-time in his chest. “I thought you were getting dismembered in here!”
“Well, as you can see, I’m not!” Letitia cried. She was holding tight to the faucet, trying to stop the water gushing with her hands.
And failing.
Chase laughed at the sight of her. She was plastered from head to toe, her usually sleek hair drenched flat to her head, water dripping down the front of her pale peach dress.
The dress that had gone completely sheer, all the way to her lacy underwear.
Chase paused. Lilac, huh? He’d figured Letitia for plan white lace, but the outline of her bra through the dress was downright racy, plunging low, and edged with—
“Hello?!” Letitia yelped, breaking his lusty thoughts. “A little help here, please!”
Chase sprang into action. He grabbed a dishtowel from the counter, and quickly went to smother the spray. “Hold this!” he told her, getting plenty soaked himself in the process. Letitia tried to grab it tightly as Chase got down on his back and reached under the sink, fumbling in the dim light until he found the right valve, and was able to turn the water supply off.
The torrential spray slowed to a trickle, and Letitia finally released the faucet with a sigh.
“Thank you!”
“What did you do?” Chase asked, getting to his feet again.
“Nothing!” she protested.
“The same way you did nothing to put that nice man in the ER?” he asked, teasing.
She hit him with the wet dishcloth. “You know that was an accident,” she said, trying to look stern. But it didn’t have the same effect with water running in rivulets down her chest.
“I’m just saying, you seem plenty accident-prone,” Chase said. He shook his head, sending water droplets flying, until Letitia tossed another towel at him – a dry one, this time.
She looked down at her soaked outfit and groaned. “I can’t believe this,” she cried. “I have a date tonight! He’s picking me up in… ten minutes!”
“Maybe he likes drowned rats,” Chase quipped, but Letitia was already rushing to the mirror, trying frantically to fix her makeup.
It was no use. She looked like a fire-hose had been turned on full-blast. Not that it was a bad thing, Chase couldn’t help noticing. The wet fabric clung to every curve of her body, and even with mascara staining her cheeks, Letitia was still distractingly beautiful.
“So who’s the unlucky guy?” he found himself asking. “Did you tell him to pack a First-Aid kit?”
“Very funny,” Letitia shot back, but her lips were tugging into a smile. “His name is Kenneth, he’s a divorced literature professor, and I already checked him for deadly allergies. It’s all clear.”
“Very responsible of you,” Chase replied, amused. “What’s the plan? You should probably stay away from bodies of water, and candles, too. Moving vehicles, shellfish—”
“Very funny.” Letitia cut him off. “We’re going to the gallery night in Provincetown. Perfectly safe. And romantic.” She was still focused on repairing her face in the mirror. She wiped away the smudged makeup, and quickly reapplied lipstick, before fixing her wet hair up in a bun. A couple of damp strands fell loose around her face, and Chase had to fight the urge to push them back.
Where had that come from?
It was just a biological reaction to a gorgeous woman in a see-through dress, he told himself. They held wet-T-shirt contests for a reason, after all.
“I have to go change,” Letitia said. “Thanks again for the help.”
“Anytime,” Chase answered absently. He watched her rush upstairs – leaving a trail of water behind her on the floor – and wondered just what kind of guy this professor was. He sounded some stuffy old man in tweed, the kind you pictured in a library with a stack of books and a pipe.
Although, Letitia didn’t strike him as the tweedy type. Not that it was any of his business.
Chase headed back to his van, and looked around. He’d been planning one last surfing session before the sun set, but with all the faucet drama, he’d missed his chance. Now, the idea of chilling at home for the night didn’t seem so appealing.
Chase pulled out his cel
lphone and idly scrolled through. He could call up his brothers to go get a drink, but they were probably snuggled up with their girlfriends by now. Cassie, too. She’d always been his partner in crime, but she was still loved-up and swooning over Wes, and preferred to stay home, just the two of them.
Hmmm, now who was that cute dance major he’d met the other week? She’d said she was staying on the Cape for a while. Lily, or Lara, or—
“Lulu?” he said, after finding her number. “What are you doing tonight? Want to go see some art?”
Letitia had been one hundred percent right about Kenneth.
The man was distinguished, and mature and oh-so-polite. He’d opened her car door for her, insisted on walking on the curbside of the street, and disappeared to fetch her a glass of wine the moment they’d arrived at the first gallery. She sighed happily, watching him smoothly navigate his way back to her through the crowd. All that, and he looked great in a blazer, too.
“Here.” He reached her, holding two glasses and a program. “I decided the white was safer. There’s nothing worse than a bad Cabernet, don’t you think?”
“Mmm, thanks,” Letitia murmured. She wasn’t really a wine snob, but it was nice that he was so thoughtful and discerning.
“Now this is an interesting piece.” Kenneth stood back to look at the painting behind them. “Very powerful. You can tell, the artist was expressing some real emotional pain.”
“They were?” Letitia asked, surprised. “I thought it looks more like a celebration, all these bright colors.”
“Oh no,” Kenneth said immediately. “The anguish is obvious.”
“Huh.” Letitia took a sip of wine. “You must know a lot about art.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want to brag…” he said, with a self-deprecating smile. “But I’ve spent quite some time in Paris. The galleries there are the best in the world. I consider myself quite the art aficionado.”
“I love Paris!” She moved on, to the next piece. “Did you travel there with your wife…?” she asked casually.
