“Sure.”
A few moments later, we’re pulling into the Broken Shell parking lot. When we get there, it’s still closed, but some of the waitresses are inside getting tables set up for the lunch rush. Jesse takes me around to the back door. Berta is sitting in a chair next to the door, smoking a cigarette and reading the morning paper.
“Afternoon, Berta,” Jesse says. She jumps when he scares her, quickly throwing her cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. Jesse puts a hand on his hip. “You ain’t hidin’ that from me. I saw you spit out the death stick.”
She gives him a nervous look.
“You’ve been telling me you were gonna quit since I was twelve years old,” Jesse adds, the disappointment still all over his face. Berta breaks into a smile.
“Well, then, I guess you should know by now that it’s most likely not going to happen,” she says with a chuckle and a shrug. “What are you two up to?”
“Just had a late breakfast at Daisy’s. Listen, Lena here had an idea that I wanted to run past you.”
Berta puts down her paper and pushes herself back in her seat, like she’s readying herself for the proposal.
“She wants to throw a barn dance,” he says. “Music, food and drinks, just a social event. We were thinkin’ we’d charge a cover and use it to pay the band, and then use what’s left for renovations inside.”
Berta raises her eyebrows and clasps her hands in her lap.
“Whoa, sounds like you two have really thought this through,” she says. Then she pauses for a minute, tapping her lips with her index finger. “I like it. And I think other people will, too. This town hasn’t had much fun in the last year or so. I’d be happy to do the bartending. In fact, I’ll donate some finger foods and drinks to the cause,” she says. Jesse smiles, and I can’t help but reciprocate.
“Thanks, Berta!” Jesse says, leaning down to squeeze her hand. She smiles quickly, then turns to look up at me.
“Great idea you got there, girl,” she says. I smile back.
“Thanks, Berta. I just want to help Jesse get the most out of the place, after all he’s done for my sister and me.”
I feel my cheeks get hot the moment I say it. Berta’s eyes narrow a bit, but she’s still smiling. I feel Jesse’s eyes on me, but I can’t look in his direction.
“Well, you should know that we all appreciate what you’re doing to help him,” Berta says, looking back to Jesse. “We just want our boy to find some joy again.”
Jesse slowly lets go of Berta’s hand and clears his throat, his fingers scratching the back of his neck.
“I’m gonna, uh, grab my paycheck from last week,” he says, motioning to the back door. “I’ll meet you at the truck?” he asks. I nod as he disappears inside.
“Well, thanks again, Berta,” I say. “I’ll be back later this week with some flyers and we can go over some of the details.”
I turn toward the exit, but before I put any distance between us, she calls my name. I turn back around to her.
“I know you know we all want him to stay, keep that place running,” she says. I nod. “I’m not sure exactly what you want for him. But whatever it is, whatever’s going on between the two of you, however long it lasts, thanks for making him smile again. Even if it’s only for a little while.”
I nod and smile back at her. Then my eyes follow his trail to the back door.
“He’s not the only one smiling,” I say, wrapping my arms around my body. “See ya, Berta.”
As he gets back into the truck, I turn to him.
“What are the chances you have a computer and a printer at home?”
He turns to me and gives me half a smile.
“I barely had electricity when you got here,” he says with a chuckle. I roll my eyes. “The cafe has a computer though; I’m sure Mike won’t mind you using his.”
“Okay, cool. Gosh, this place is certainly back in time, isn’t it?” I say, looking out my window. He chuckles again.
“Yeah, I guess it is,” he says. “But lately, I’ve been wanting it to freeze.”
His face grows a little more serious now, as his eyes flash from me, to the road, back to me. I swallow and slowly slide my hand across the empty space on the seat between us.
“I know what you mean,” I whisper.
19
Jesse
It’s just before dinner, and Millie insisted on making a pot of clam chowder after I told her I’d never had any. I have to admit, the kitchen smells amazing when I step inside.
“Dang, that does smell good,” I say, nodding toward the pot on the stove. She smiles at the sink. “I know it can’t beat some good old-fashioned Maryland crab soup, but it is enough to make my mouth water.”
She rolls her eyes as she dries her hands on a dish towel.
“Just you wait, Mr. Rowan. You haven’t tasted it yet,” Millie says. I smile. Millie looked so worn down when they first got here, with fresh bruises on her face and a thick fear in her eyes. But now, she seems calmer, like she’s finally taking full breaths after running for years on end. She’s got the kindest soul; like Lena, only, without Lena’s sharp edges—which I don’t mind so much now. It makes me happy that she feels at home here. I want them all to.
“Where’s Caleb?” I ask, hoping her answer will also give me Lena’s whereabouts. I want to see her all the damn time, but not everyone needs to know that.
“He’s upstairs looking at some books,” she says. I nod, and Millie smiles. “My sister’s down doing laundry. In case you were wondering.”
I can’t help but smile back. Damn, Millie’s good.
I slowly leave the kitchen, trying to hide the fact that I want to race down the cellar steps to see her again. But once I’m out of Millie’s sight, I do just that.
I find Lena in the washroom, bent over pulling some clothes out of a basket, and it hits me like a ton of bricks. She’s wearing a pair of those short jean shorts again, the ones with the strings hanging down, and when she bends over like that it knocks the air out of me. I want to push myself up against her so bad; I’m fighting every urge not to lift her onto the washing machine right now.
She’s humming something, I can’t make out the tune, and I swear I could sit here and watch this all damn day. But as she pulls out a pair of jeans, something falls from the pockets and shoots across the linoleum floor in my direction. I see that it’s a cell phone, and I bend over to pick it up and hand it back to her.
“I didn’t know you owned one,” I say, handing it back to her. “Come to think of it, weird not seeing one of you millennials on one of these things all the time.”
She smiles and rolls her eyes, reaching back out for it. She hesitates for a moment as she looks down at it, then turns on the power button.
“‘You millennials?’” she mocks. “You’re a millennial, too.”
“Barely,” I say. She nods slowly, and I see her wheels turning. It’s the first time we’ve acknowledged that there’s a bit of an age gap between us, but nothing about this girl feels childish. She’s all woman. If anyone’s a kid here, it’s me, with the way I can’t keep my damn jaw off the ground when I’m around her.
The screen of her phone flashes with light in her hand, and she freezes as she stares down at it. Her eyebrows knit together.
“Everything okay?” I ask, feeling a knot form in my stomach. She nods, her face relaxing immediately as she holds the power button down again.
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Just forgot I even had one of these,” she says with a nervous laugh as she tucks it into the back pocket of her shorts. “Millie and I sort of went off the grid when we left Boston.”
I nod slowly.
“Is someone trying to reach you?” I ask. I can hear her swallow and she continues sorting the clothes.
“Nah, no one important.” She closes the machine and walks past me, back up the stairs.
The chowder is delicious—I have to admit it.
“Well, Millie, you’ve made me a believer. Ma
ybe you Yankees know a thing or two about seafood,” I say, laying a hand on my stomach. She sits back in her chair, satisfied.
“Told you. No one can beat us,” she says.
“Yeah!” Caleb says in agreement, chowder dripping off his chin.
“Okay, okay. But before we can truly decide on a winner, you all have to come to a crab feast.”
“A crab feast?” Caleb asks. I smile and nod.
“Yep. Not just any crabs. Bay crabs,” I say. “You haven’t lived till you’ve tried one. With Old Bay.” I close my eyes and lick my lips. When I open them, Caleb’s smiling, his eyes wide.
“I wanna try one!” he says.
“There’s a crab feast in town tomorrow,” I say. “We can all go. And you can decide which state knows their seafood better.”
Millie smiles and nods.
“You’re on,” she says. I look down the table at Lena. She’s got a shallow smile on her face, her spoon swirling slowly around her bowl of untouched soup.
“Lee, you okay?” Millie asks, beating me to it. All I can think about is that phone. I need to know what she saw.
“Huh?” Lena asks, her eyes raising to us, realizing she’s the center of attention. “Oh, yeah, sorry. I’m not feeling great. I actually might go up to bed soon,” she says.
“You sure? What’s wrong?” Millie asks.
“Nothing, nothing. Just feeling extra tired,” she says. “Thanks for dinner, Mill. Goodnight, everyone.”
I help Millie with the dishes.
“She’s okay, right?” I ask. Millie shrugs.
“I’m not sure. This isn’t really like her,” she says. “I’m going to take him for some ice cream. I’ll check on her when I get back.” I nod and wave as they head out the door.
I walk toward the front door, getting ready to head over to the barn, but I stop. I can’t leave her like this. Not after seeing that look on her face in the laundry room. I turn around and start up the stairs, taking them two-by-two. I take in a breath and knock a few times on her door.
She opens, and I instantly go weak. She’s got on short little pajama shorts and a flowy tank top—and, clearly, nothing underneath. I shake my head to clear it of any intentions.
“Uh, hey, I just wanted to check on you,” I say. She reaches a hand across her body and holds onto her arm.
“Oh, thanks. I’m okay,” she says, looking down at the ground. I know she wants me to turn and leave, but I can’t.
“You sure? ‘Cause I saw that look on your face when you saw something on your phone. And you sort of haven’t been the same since,” I say.
She lifts her eyes slowly to me, tapping her foot nervously on the floor. She bites her lip—eliciting an insane response from my dick—then steps back into her room. She returns a second later with her phone. She turns it on, pulls something up, and hands it to me.
I look down at the text message.
It won’t be long now. I’ll know where you took them soon enough, it says. I read over it a few times, then slowly hand the phone back to her.
“Caleb’s dad?” I ask. She nods. I feel my blood start to boil beneath my skin. I clench both my fists involuntarily, “That’s why you didn’t say anything to Millie.” She nods again.
“I can’t. I can’t worry them like that. I just need to...I just need to figure this out.” She wraps her arms around her body tightly, her eyes never leaving the ground. I run a hand down my face, and take a step closer to her.
She fumbles to turn the phone back off, tossing it onto the bed.
“I have to figure this out,” she says again. “I have to take care of them. They are all I have.”
I look down at her, and reach out a hand to her arm. She shudders gently beneath it.
“Look,” I say, “he can’t possibly know where you are, right?”
She shrugs.
“We’ve been keeping our phones off so he can’t track us,” she says, “but he’s figured out things like this before. He’s got connections. I just don’t know what—” she stops, and I can see she’s trying desperately not to cry again in front of me. And just like that, a pain strikes through my chest. I have to make this better. I have to take some of this unbelievable weight she has on her shoulders and carry some of it for her. It’s clear that no one else ever has.
“Look, I don’t know this guy,” I say, “but I can tell you that while you’re here, in Baycrest, you’re safe. The people here, they aren’t going to let him near you. Any of you.” I step closer to her, and I wrap an arm around her, pulling her into me. It feels so good to have her head on my chest again. “And I won’t, either.”
We stand like that for a long time, and as I run my fingers down her long hair, I realize that she’ll be gone soon. Out of my sight.
And maybe back into Tiger’s.
20
Lena
I know I should be worrying about Tiger right now, but after last night with Jesse, I’m having trouble focusing on the danger at hand.
He was such a gentleman, holding me in his arms until I felt calmer, saying goodnight at my door without even so much as a peck on the cheek.
There’s still a wall between us that he puts up, but every single time I’m near him, it takes every ounce of my strength not to scale it. I want him, in a lot of different ways. I want to know more about him, his parents, his life before the accident. I want to know what he likes, what he doesn’t like, what he’s afraid of. And I want his body.
God. I want his body.
Every moment I’m in his presence, I’m fighting myself not to go back to basic human instincts and let out some sort of freaking mating call.
It’s ridiculous.
When Millie and Caleb wake up, I’m already in the kitchen flipping pancakes. I’m bright and cheery as ever, as if I didn’t receive a threatening text message from the man who has come close to killing my sister several times.
“Feelin’ better?” Millie asks.
“Oh, yeah, much,” I say, plopping a big stack of pancakes onto her plate and Caleb’s. “Must have just been a 24-hour bug.”
She nods, but I can see she’s suspicious. But after a bite of my famous pancakes, that look slowly fades away from her face. I’m pouring Caleb a glass of juice when the front door opens and shuts. I hear his boots along the wood floors, heavy but somehow gentle, and I can’t help but smile. And when he lays those seaglass eyes on me, I forget a Tiger even exists.
“Mornin’,” he says, “glad to see you’re up and moving.”
“Yep,” I say, holding up my spatula, “and I made pancakes. Have a seat.”
I walk him over a stack before taking a seat myself.
“So,” he says, before shoving a forkful in his mouth. He stops mid-thought to savor the bite. “Damn, those are good. Anyway, the crab feast is at a little park in town today. They get pretty busy, so I was thinking we should head over there fairly early. Jo’s getting in today a little before lunch, and then I thought we could head over?”
“Yeah! Bay crabs!” Caleb says.
“Great,” Millie says. “Then we can all be there when you admit that Boston’s better at seafood.”
Jesse chuckles.
“We’ll just see,” he says. “I’m telling you. Old Bay. Life-changing.”
A little later that morning, we’re upstairs getting ready for the feast. I’m spending too much time deciding on an outfit, and I should have known that my sister would notice.
“You’re eating crabs,” she says. “Not going to a wedding.”
I roll my eyes.
“Well, I just wanna look nice in case...“
“In case Jesse decides to finally make a move?” she asks with a smile. I look in the mirror at Caleb behind us on the bed, blissfully oblivious to our conversation as he makes his T-rex eat a truck.
“No,” I say. “In case anyone wants to talk about the dance or anything. I just want to look presentable.”
I pull down the blouse I have on and turn to the side t
o check my butt in the jean capris I chose.
“Mission accomplished,” Millie says, tucking a stray hair back into her bun. “Ready?”
I nod.
Just as we’re headed downstairs to meet Jesse, we hear a car door shut outside.
Josie hops out, in a blue sundress and an adorable floppy hat, with big, round sunglasses. As always, she looks completely flawless.
“I hate judges, courtrooms, and anything that remotely has to do with the law. I need Old Bay, and I need it now,” she says, marching toward Jesse’s truck.
These Marylanders and their Old Bay. They think it’s some sort of magic fairy dust.
“Uh, hey, Jo,” Jesse says, a perplexed look on his face. Josie stops in her tracks, like she just realized that they weren’t alone. She turns to us slowly.
“Oops, sorry all. Week from hell—heck,” she says, correcting herself and eyeing Caleb. We smile.
“Sorry, Josie,” I say. “We’re glad to see you.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” she says back, rustling a hand through Caleb’s hair.
We pull up to the park a few minutes later, and like Jesse said, it’s already crowded with people. Tents stand over long, paper-covered tables, each adorned unceremoniously with wooden mallets and plastic knives. At least a dozen massive pots are scattered around between the tables, a wooden basket sitting on the ground next to each one. People are pouring drinks and chatting. The bay is big and blue behind us, and I smile at how simple things are here in Baycrest.
“Jesse!” someone calls as we walk in further. “Josie!”
They stop to hug and catch up with multiple people, introducing us to every single one of them. Despite the heat and the fact that the rest of us are speckled in sweat, Josie looks exquisite as ever. She’s a damn professional, the way she smiles, makes small talk with just about everyone. She so could have totally owned the inn. She has the perfect personality.
Jesse, on the other hand, has a different vibe. Quieter, subdued. Polite, of course, anytime anyone else acknowledges him. But never the first to start a conversation. Never one to draw attention to himself.
Rowan Revived Page 15
