Love on the Boardwalk (A Cinnamon Bay Romance Book 1)
Page 14
“I’m finished with the house. Well, the parts you told me to work on,” he started, wiping sweating palms on his jeans. “There are just a few things you might want to look at, but you could go ahead and schedule the yard sale and then get the house on the market within the next month.”
Lizzie sighed, settling across from him in a chair that had a sunken spot on the cushion. Her go-to. “I hate getting rid of everything Macklin owned,” she grumbled, “but as you can see, I don’t have any space for it. And I don’t need a house that size either. I can’t care for it.”
Here it goes.
Mac cracked his knuckles, sat up straight, and looked his aunt square in the eye. “Aunt Lizzie. I’ve decided to move to Cinnamon Bay, and I’d like to buy the house and everything you had planned on selling. It’s the only tie I have to my birth family.”
Lizzie made a clucking sound and shook her head. “Those are material things. You have real ties to your family. There are a whole bunch of Parkers that would love to meet you.” Somewhere along the line, things had changed between them. Mac wished he knew when that decisive moment had occurred.
“You think so?”
“Why my stubborn-ass brother felt the need to keep you a secret from everyone, I’ll never know. But you’re here now, so what do you think about creating a few new ties?”
The familiar knot in his stomach known as shame began to grow. He’d rationalized buying his grandfather’s house and keeping the contents to have a small link to his heritage. No real emotional bond. Except for the fact it was here in Cinnamon Bay, but he was moving here for Eva.
“I think…it’s going to take some getting used to.”
“For the both of us. I’m not sure I have room for a nephew in this house, either.”
“Then I guess we are going to both have to take one step at a time. Will you think about Wayfare house?”
She slowly nodded. “I’ll let you know, kid.”
Mac continued to swipe the sweat from his palms on his pants, unable to get a handle on himself, and stood. Meeting more family, seeing resemblances, and growing to care about them seemed disrespectful to his adoptive parents. He couldn’t do this right now.
As he walked across the living room to his aunt’s door, he made his excuses. “I have to get a project done today before I surprise Eva with dinner later, so I need to get going. Let me know if you are okay with me buying the house.”
Lizzie got up from her chair and stood before Mac. “Of course. I don’t have a problem with you buying Macklin’s house. You know what? I don’t need to think about it, either. You want Wayfare house? It’s yours. It makes my heart happy to know it’s staying in the family. And that I’ll have backup nearby if Henderson gets handsy with my newspaper again.”
Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Mac grabbed the doorknob. He couldn’t escape fast enough. Getting away from the emotions his aunt was drawing out of him was all he wanted to do. “Thanks. I’ll pay whatever you decide.”
“I’ll think about the price. But just so you know, there is a Parker family reunion next month. Will you go?”
“I may still be in Maine wrapping things up. I’ll let you know closer to the time.” He stepped out onto her porch, stopped and looked back over his shoulder. “Thanks.” Then he took his time making his way over to his truck when what he really wanted to do was run. Because maybe if he sprinted fast enough, the guilt wouldn’t catch up to him.
CHAPTER TWENTY
EVA INDULGED IN a long shower, letting the water soak through her hair and run down her back until her muscles relaxed.
With the sun hoisting over the horizon, she walked to work, letting her hair air dry before the humidity and heat set in.
The day went well until the last hour when she sent Kolby on so he wouldn’t be late for a dinner date with Craig. It was their usual Friday night routine. She appreciated that even after so many years together, they could still make time for one another, to let the rest of life slip away and focus on themselves and their relationship.
She could only hope for the same one day.
Yes, the last hour of work. She’d gotten three, count ’em, three people mad and in her face because they’d heard about the famous drink to help you find your true love. And blamed Eva entirely for the fact that it had been taken off the menu.
Why couldn’t people accept her decision? They had a lot of other great items to choose from. Why did everyone want the Amour?
Eva stumbled toward the door later than she wanted, locking it behind her.
Then a hand fell on her shoulder. Instead of starting, Eva leaned into the contact. “Mac?”
“Who the hell is Mac?”
Her spine stiffened, each muscle tensing. That voice…no possible way…
“You better get your hand off of me quickly, Roger.”
The hand fell back to its owner’s side, but she still didn’t turn around. “What happened to Dad?”
“You lost that right when you walked out on me fifteen years ago.” Eva took a deep breath and held it in her lungs for the count of five. Finally, pushing her hair away from her face, she turned around to confront the man who had given her life.
He stood there with a rakish grin across his face, as though he didn’t properly read the situation. Black hair the same color of her own, streaked with silver, had been coifed away from his eyes with a copious amount of gel. A scarf hung limp around his neck despite the warm temperature, the rest of his body clad in a simple pair of shorts and a black shirt.
Roger gestured toward the sign above the door. “I’m passing through and thought I’d stop by Brewed. See what you’ve done with the place.” He craned his neck to peer through the door around her. “It looks pretty much the same as it did when Mom ran it.”
Eva swore under her breath, her insides feeling as though she had ants crawling through her. “You don’t get to talk about her.” How dare he bring up her nana now. “You didn’t even drag your sorry ass down here for the funeral.”
Unable to take it any longer, she stormed past him, listening to the heavy echo of her footsteps. Unfortunately, a second pair fell into rhythm with her, Roger hustling to keep up.
“Tell me now, Daughter, why I’m not allowed to talk about my own mother? Sure, I couldn’t make it to the funeral, but—”
“No,” she cut him off. “Don’t finish that sentence. There’s no excuse in the world good enough for what you did. To her, to me. To Mom.”
When she spared a glance over, Roger’s gaze had hardened. “Whatever happened between Cynthia and I, it had nothing to do with you.”
“I don’t want to hear about it. I honestly don’t. You and I are done. We have no relationship. I don’t even care why you’re in town.”
She did, however, care that he’d decided to surprise her at work. Decided to smile at her like he hadn’t been absolutely and irrevocably absent from her life for the past fifteen years.
Bastard.
“Like I said, I’m just stopping by on my way to Miami. Chastity and I are having a second honeymoon.”
Eva was proud when her steps didn’t falter, although she did choke on her own spit a little bit. Chastity, the bimbo her father had left her mother to be with. The one who was more important than Roger’s family.
“How wonderful for you,” she said dryly.
“Why don’t you tell me how you’ve been? What you’re doing back here in Cinnamon Bay?”
Eva screeched to a halt, her hands on her hips. “I’d really rather not. I have nothing to say to you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be.”
Her father smiled again. “Does this have anything to do with Mac?”
“You leave him out of this.” Her brows drew together, her mouth a hard line. Her heart, which had been fluttering like crazy, stilled.
“Whatever happened between you and Sean?”
“What about him?” she asked in a sedate voice, refusing to let Roger see his question affected her a
t all.
“Just wondering why you never went through with the marriage. Especially considering I just saw online that he’d gotten married to some woman from Silicon Valley.”
The statement hit her like a smack to the face with a sledgehammer. Exactly as Roger planned, Eva knew. He wanted to see her reaction. He wanted to see how shaken she was, especially considering she refused to give in to his desire for conversation.
She shivered, wrapping her arms around her torso to keep some of the warmth inside. “Good for him,” she forced herself to say. “I’m so glad he was able to find love.”
Sean…married? After he told her he wasn’t ready to settle down. After he told her he wanted to travel, to focus on his career, and couldn’t handle the weight of a wife like an anchor around his ankle.
“From what I could see, the new wife is a pretty little thing.”
“Thinking about leaving Chastity for a newer model? It shouldn’t matter that she’s married to someone else,” Eva lashed out.
Roger shrugged. “Bitterness doesn’t look good on you, Eva Mae. You have my chin and eyes. I can tell you from personal experience that nothing will age you faster.”
She couldn’t take it. She had to get out of there, had to escape because her father being close to her had sapped the oxygen out of her lungs. The air closed in around them, and Eva fought to draw air into her body. One hand rose to claw at her throat.
“How long are you going to be here for?” she asked.
Roger cast his gaze over the sand, the setting sun reflecting off eyes that were, indeed, the same shape and color as her own. “Not long. I’ll be heading out within the hour.”
Good. That meant he didn’t expect any kind of meal or conversation beyond this one.
“Sorry, I really do have to go,” Eva choked out. “I have to be somewhere.”
She didn’t need to tell him more. And she certainly didn’t need him to see she was slowly breaking down, each word out of his mouth another slap at her.
Sean was married. Boom. Her father was here. Boom.
Confronted by the two people who had drunk the Café Amour and had their relationships fail. Relationships that should have worked out, according to legend.
And both situations where Eva was left in the middle to pay the price.
She couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t take another second with Roger.
“It seems like you can’t stand to be around me,” Roger said, biting the inside of his lip.
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“Oh, from the look on your face, I’d say you have plenty to say to me. But you’re a good girl. You’ll keep it bottled inside until it chokes you. I understand. I used to be the same way until I decided I couldn’t live my life by someone else’s rules. When you’re ready to hear about it, I’ll be here.”
“I don’t have your phone number,” she said through numb lips.
“Your mother does. Ask her.”
Eva jerked. Cynthia had Roger’s phone number and hadn’t said anything? Maybe her mother hadn’t had to endure the same fifteen years of silence Eva had. No, her father was playing her. Lying like he’d been doing for years. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of thinking for one second he was telling the truth.
The familiar tingle of anger began at the edges of her brain, wanting an invitation inside. She held it at bay. For the moment.
“I’d really rather not. I can’t think of anything you’d have to say that I’d listen to. Especially considering how you couldn’t be here for Nana during the last months of her life.”
“Yes, and it’s something I’ll just have to live with.” Roger sighed.
Eva remembered the last time she’d seen him. The day after her twelfth birthday when he’d promised to see her in a couple of days.
Only Dad never showed up. Never kept his promise, never remembered another birthday, Christmas, or school event. Nothing until now.
“I’d really hoped we could spend a little time together before I have to get on the road,” Roger began.
Eva glanced at the ocean and wanted to run. She could make it, she thought, then recognized the weariness in her bones. Not far enough.
“No. I’d rather not.” Her voice sounded much stronger than she physically felt, but she was determined to put an end to this conversation. “I hope you have a safe drive.”
“Do you really, Eva Mae?” Roger chuckled, the sound shifting into a booming round of laughter when she hurried away. “No hug goodbye for Dad?”
The sound of his laugh followed her down the boardwalk as she ran toward home.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
SHE’D HAD A horrible day. Sweat slicked and pissed off, Eva turned the corner to her house, envisioning the shower she’d take once she got inside. Cool and soothing, letting the water pound over her shoulders, maybe a glass of wine on the shelf within easy reach.
Definitely a glass of wine. What was she thinking? She had a bottle of pinot grigio in the fridge with her name on it.
Also, she’d need a handful of aspirin, because the tension headache did not want to leave her be. She’d spent too much time lugging boxes out of Macklin’s house and dividing her time between that and her coffee shop, trying to work out her frustration while alternately pushing away any and all thoughts of Roger Halloway.
Not to mention her mother.
Her mother, who always seemed to know the worst times of day to call. It started with the six-minute recap of the past day and progressed into Eva needing to find a good man and settle down because she wasn’t getting any younger and she’d like to have grandchildren someday.
Eva loved her mother dearly, but there were times she annoyed the hell out of her.
Like how she staunchly refused to leave Boston and relocate to Cinnamon Bay.
And, Eva thought as she rolled her shoulders to alleviate the tension, the day had gone downhill from that point on. Over twelve hours on her feet and everything from there to the top of her head now ached. At least she felt like she’d accomplished something after she’d run around through half the county. The attic was clear—Mac had left before lunchtime, needing to get work done for his clients—and she made it back to the coffee shop in time for the lunch rush.
She should be proud. Instead, she wanted to kick up her feet and go numb for an hour. Maybe two if she felt frisky.
Eva made the last turn onto her road and pulled into her driveway a moment later, grateful to be home and never happier to be alone. No one to ask her questions, to badger her, to demand this and that and other things.
Then she noticed movement through the front windows. Hackles rising, she spent a good minute freaking out before she recognized the dark hair.
Mac.
She struggled to think past her splitting headache. Had she forgotten a date? No, he would have called her to make sure she remembered, and she hadn’t gotten any messages.
What the hell was Mac doing here? she wondered as irritation warred with the headache. And how had he gotten inside her house?
Two seconds out the car door and the humidity had her hair in a frizz around her ears and sweat slipping down her sides. She also heard bluesy music pouring through her open, now that she noticed, screen door.
So, he’d turned off her AC. Perfect.
Eva growled. She’d wanted the cool, along with a damn minute to compose herself and get her head in order. Now she had Mac, music, and conversation waiting. Conversation like a serious talk on breaking and entering.
Trudging up her front steps, she scowled at the screen door letting the blistering hot air inside, then pushed through to her foyer where the music blasted up a few notches.
“Mac?” she called out, heading into the kitchen.
There she found him with a frying pan in one hand and a bouquet of flowers set in a vase in the center of her kitchen table. Looking decidedly out of place among her all-white kitchen in dark shorts, a gray t-shirt, and a pair of sunglasses on his head.
Her gaze fell on the radio he’d plugged in and set on the counter, eyebrows drawing together into a single unit. “Yeah, I’m not surprised you couldn’t hear. You’ve got it turned up into eardrum-shattering territory.”
“Oh. Sorry.” He reached out and flipped down the volume.
Still, her head pounded in time with the tempo of the music.
“I needed something to keep me in the mood while I cook,” Mac continued, stirring the onions he had browning in the pan and adjusting the heat.
Eva didn’t know what to do with herself. She dropped her purse on the island, away from the majority of his prep, and stared at the mess. The way Mac had effectively commandeered her space.
“And what, if you don’t mind me asking, are you doing in my kitchen?”
“I’m cooking salmon with a little caper cream sauce. Caramelizing these onions for an added layer of flavor. The sauce I’ll save for last to keep it fresh, but I have a salad chilling in the refrigerator if you want something right now. Do you want some sweet tea? I made some of that too.”
He’d done what? How long had he been here, waiting for her? His intrusion didn’t sit well with her. At least not right now. Any other time she’d more than welcome the surprise and thoughtfulness but not after the day she’d just had.
Eva peeked inside the refrigerator and saw he’d made the brew in the glass pitcher she’d been given as a gift at her engagement party. One she refused to use but couldn’t part with, either. Which meant Mac spent at least a little time going through her kitchen cabinets.
The last of her goodwill soured. “No, thank you.”
He crossed to her and took her in his arms, running a hand up and down her back. “I’m sorry. You look like you’ve had a rough day. What do you need me to do?”
Jeez, just what she needed to hear. “Nothing. I need a shower,” she replied testily.
“Do you want me to join you?” Mac leaned down, shifting to draw her chin higher and brush a light kiss across her lips.