With a Southern Touch: AdamA Night in ParadiseGarden Cop

by Jennifer Blake

  For a few minutes she just sat on the bed, waiting primly. The view from the bed was lulling, mesmerizing. The sun was hot, she knew, but a light breeze was moving the drapes. The water glistened. The sand seemed to stretch before her with a welcoming whiteness and purity. She lived in this town, she reminded herself. But she couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so touched by the sight, sound and feel of the sand and the sea. She was dying to stretch out on the cool linen, watch as the sun came up, or just stay and watch the way the water was glimmering and the drapes were drifting.

  Then the phone began to ring. She started violently and, without thinking, answered it.

  It was Ned, calling from the front office. “Sorry, Aurora, the wife says the Yankee left some time ago. I must have missed him.”

  “That’s okay, Ned. Thanks for calling.”

  She hung up and stood. She had to get out. He’d rented this place; it was private. One day, though, she would talk to Ned about renting a room just for one night so she could wake up to such an incredible view.

  She was appalled as her thoughts suddenly turned to the bed. Clean, cool, linen sheets; plump pillows; sea, sky and sand; a man and woman, making love as the sun fell and the blue of the sky became the mauve of twilight, then the velvet of night. Someone with dark eyes, great hands…

  Cool linen sheets. Hot bodies. The senses filled. Things she couldn’t even remember.

  She groaned aloud and hurried to the door. But as she was walking out, her purse snagged on the closet door, pulling it open. No big deal. She moved to close it.

  But she didn’t. Not right away.

  Max’s clothing lined the closet. She was surprised to find herself reaching out, stroking her fingers down the length of a jacket sleeve. Nice duds, as Angie would say. Great, she told herself. The guy has nice clothes. Now, close the door. That’s it, get out, leave.

  She drew the sleeve to her cheek, alarmed to find herself breathing in a subtle hint of aftershave and something more. She dropped the sleeve as if it could bite, closed the closet door and marched out of the room.

  “Do you know it’s after twelve o’clock?” Angie asked.

  Max looked up, startled, then looked back to the computer. He’d told Mike he’d be in early, but that wasn’t going to happen, since he’d sat down a little over three hours ago.

  Now Act II was complete. And Aurora was hardly likely to appreciate his butting in on her work.

  “Noon,” he murmured.

  Angie, looking over his shoulder, let out a little cry of delight. “I love it! I love the ending.”

  “I’m going to start hitting the delete key.”

  “No! No, you’re not.”

  “Angie, I don’t know what the hell I was doing. Your mom doesn’t even want me reading her work, much less putting my ideas into it.”

  “Don’t you dare delete that. I play the princess, you know, but I didn’t really like the way she was written. And now…like I said, I’m the princess, and I love the ending. Leave it. If she hates it, she’ll erase it. You can really write. Do you have any experience?”

  Max arched a brow. “A little. Has Mike said anything at all about me?”

  “Of course. He told us you were an important businessman in New York. Is that true?”

  “We’re all in business, one way or another, aren’t we?” he asked.

  “I guess.”

  “I’m getting out of here.”

  The phone rang again. After a moment Josh’s voice came on again. “Angie, come on, you must be home. It’s me. Josh. Pick up the phone.”

  Max tilted his head at an angle, challenging her with a lifted brow.

  “He’s called twice,” she murmured.

  “Yep. If he keeps calling, you could give him a call back—in a day or two. I’ve got to go.” He saved his work, then rose and headed out.

  Angie called after him, “Max!”

  “Yes.”

  “Thanks. Really. Thanks for last night, and…well, I’m awfully glad we’re going to be sort of related.”

  “So am I, Angie. See you.”

  Michael Wulfson was a man who knew how to move once he had made a decision.

  Paradise was aglow.

  Aurora had arrived in time to join Mike and Mary as they spoke with the priest and rabbi. The bride and groom had been so busy, they hadn’t had a chance to grill her about the night before.

  They had both stared at her, though. Watched her with speculation.

  And Mike had watched her with curious amusement, as well. She had refused to give either of them the satisfaction of an explanation, though, and since so much had been going on, they hadn’t really been able to ask. She had been there when the caterer had come—Mike was treating the entire home to his wedding meal. Decorators had even come to fill the place with flowers and arrange the table settings.

  She was sitting with Mike and Mary, with the dessert chef on his way out, making a list of the things her grandmother wanted, when Max at last arrived. She greeted him politely, making no reference to their dinner the night before and not mentioning the fact that she had gone by his room hours earlier to make sure that they were on decent terms with each other before seeing their grandparents.

  She needn’t have worried about his behavior. He was equally polite, brushing her cheek with a friendly kiss, then taking Mary’s hand and telling her what a great pleasure it was to meet her. He was sincere; he was charming. He was exceptionally appealing in a light polo shirt that accented his dark good looks.

  They were seated at a table in a little garden area surrounded by shade trees. Aurora was sitting between Mike and her grandmother; Max took the seat opposite her. “So…” he said, lifting his hands to indicate their surroundings. “Flowers are coming to Paradise. Everything is moving right along.”

  “Right along,” Mike agreed, his weathered face crinkling with a smile. “Mary and I couldn’t be more pleased. That’s true, dear, isn’t it?”

  Aurora was surprised when her grandmother blushed. “Mike has made this place a real paradise,” she said.

  “What time is the ceremony?” Max asked.

  “Two o’clock,” Mike said. “We’ve decided to make it an early afternoon affair so our friends can stay awake for it.”

  “Early,” Max murmured.

  “Well, my boy, it has to be early. This is an old folks’ place, you know. We have to have the ceremony, then eat early. Mrs. Munson gets too much gas to sleep if she doesn’t finish eating by four-thirty.”

  “Charming,” Max said with a laugh.

  “You think so? If Ida gets gas, the whole floor knows it. We don’t want the place bubbling unattractively all evening,” Mike said.

  “Hey, early is good,” Max said. “What else should I know?”

  “You’ve got your tux?”

  “I do.”

  “You’re all set, dear, aren’t you?” Mary asked Aurora.

  “Of course.”

  “We should have some champagne,” Mike said. “Here we are, the bride, the groom, the maid of honor and the best man.”

  “This isn’t exactly a nightclub,” Aurora reminded him. “I can get you some ginger ale.”

  Mike looked at Aurora as if she just didn’t get the point, but then he smiled broadly. “I certainly hope my grandson bought you some champagne last night.” Mike Wulfson still had the kind of stare that went right through a body. Aurora was annoyed to realize that she was blushing with greater intensity than her grandmother.

  “Dinner was great,” Max said lightly, refusing to give in to his grandfather’s obvious and gleeful inquiry. “We had the perfect wine and a great meal.”

  “But,” Mike said with a frown, “I thought that…”

  “And I certainly thought…” Mary began.

  “Oh, come on,” Max said, looking at Aurora. “Aurora and I did nothing but enjoy a terrific meal.”

  Mike and Mary both stared at Aurora. “Yes,” she said evenly, looking at Max. “We had a
wonderful dinner.”

  “But you thought I meant to marry Aurora,” Mike said to Max.

  “And you told me, Aurora,” Mary said, “that he was the biggest ass—idiot you had ever met.”

  “Thanks, Gran,” Aurora murmured.

  “That’s okay, she already told me all about her true feelings,” Max said. “But we’re cool with everything now. We’re just both delighted with this wedding.”

  “Really?” Mary asked anxiously.

  “Absolutely.” Max squeezed her hand.

  “And you’re fine with each other? Everything all straightened out between the two of you?” Mike asked with a frown.

  “Oh, we’re just peachy keen,” Aurora murmured.

  “So who told who the truth first?” Mike asked.

  “Did you tell him that he was an idiot, dear?” Mary asked with a frown.

  “Something like that,” Max said.

  “Max isn’t an idiot,” Mike said, his voice indignant.

  “Well, he thought Aurora was a gold digger,” Mary put in.

  “Hey, hey,” Max protested. “We need peace in Paradise. It’s fine. Aurora and I worked it out.” He stared at her as if daring her to contradict him.

  “We worked it out,” she repeated. “We laughed for hours,” she went on, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “I should get going now. Check on a few friends.”

  “Make sure their beds are cranked?” Mike asked.

  “Yes, well, that, too.” She stared at Max. “And I lost a file in the computer yesterday, though. I’ve been assured that I can find it.” She looked at Max as she spoke.

  “You can’t work right now,” Mary protested.

  “I have to. We put on the show Friday afternoon. I have to give my cast something to rehearse tonight, even if we end up winging a lot of it.”

  “This show is just for the home?” Max asked politely.

  “Yes. But if it’s something we really like, we rework it and do it for the schools later,” Aurora said.

  “You can crank a few beds if you want, but you can’t work right now,” Mike said.

  “I have to.”

  “Aurora, Mike and I woke up at the crack of dawn to fill out the endless paperwork so we could get permission to take you two out with us for lunch,” Mary told her.

  “I can’t go. I’m sorry.”

  “You two didn’t work anything out, did you?” Mary asked with dismay. “Mike, maybe we should put this wedding off a bit.”

  “Mary, what are you saying?” Mike asked with dismay. “My grandson made a mistake, and Aurora, well, you called my boy an idiot, right?” Mike asked, turning to Aurora.

  “Oh, she called me much worse,” Max said. “But we’ve straightened it all out. And the wedding is on.” He stood. “Aurora, I’ll help you crank beds. And as to the work… I told you, I know computers.”

  “Even if you can find what I lost, I wasn’t done.”

  “Trust me.” Max said, his eyes on her.

  “Max has done a little writing here and there,” Mike said, eyes twinkling as he looked at his grandson. “Aurora, please. You and Max are the most important people in our lives. Your grandmother will throw me over if she doesn’t believe the two of you are happy about the wedding. This is so important to us.”

  “Mike, I love you, you know that. But I have responsibilities.”

  “Please,” Mary said.

  Max had Aurora’s arm. “Let’s get cranking,” he said. He practically dragged her out of her chair, though he managed the act so smoothly that neither Mike nor Mary realized what he was doing.

  “I’m screwed,” she protested once they were back inside.

  “They’ll call off this wedding.”

  “You came to stop it anyway.”

  “You want to do this to them?”

  “No, dammit. You don’t understand.”

  “It will be all right. Trust me. We’ll have lunch, we’ll get back, I’ll play with the computer. The world will not end.”

  “You may be the hottest thing on Wall Street, but you don’t know a thing about writing.”

  “If that’s your opinion, we need to crank those beds quickly.”

  He started down the hall ahead of her. She swore, then followed.

  Max was a good cranker. And he was known around Paradise. She shouldn’t have been surprised. She had learned from talking with Daisy the day before that Max had been down here when Mike had first taken up residence. Despite herself, she found it irritating that he should be greeted by so many people with such enthusiasm. And he was never rude, extricating himself from long conversations with the friendly information that his grandfather and his fiancée were waiting for them.

  The whole thing was really getting quite annoying. She had spent weeks performing the same service, but as soon as Max walked in, she was barely noticed. Max had spent that one day cranking beds.

  Life was certainly ironic.

  By the time they were done with their errands of mercy—adjusting telephones, retrieving remote controls, refilling water pitchers, as well as adjusting beds—Mike and Mary were already in the stretch limo Mike had ordered for the day.

  Aurora hadn’t even been aware that there was a stretch limo to be had in Paradise. He must have ordered the car from St. Augustine.

  Mike and Mary were sitting together on the rear seat. The husky nurse’s aide who was joining them, Bart Thornby, was seated at the front, his back to the driver. He smiled and greeted Aurora warmly as she lowered herself into the car, but he didn’t slide over. Aurora moved across and took the seat along the side, facing the minibar. Max joined her there.

  It was a stretch limo. She should have felt as if she had enough room to…stretch, but she was uncomfortably aware of Max beside her. He wasn’t the least bit bothered. He was chatting with Mike and Mary. Even Bart was joining in. She felt as if she could hear everyone breathe. No, just Max. She was aware of his every inflection, his every movement. He used his hands a lot. They were good, masculine hands. Tanned. Long fingers, nails blunt cut, clean. She found herself staring at his hands. Then at his mouth as he spoke. She closed her eyes, determined not to watch him. Think of something else, she told herself. Something calming. The sea, the sea breeze lifting the drapes at the Paradise Motor Lodge. Max’s bed, the clean white linen sheets, the breeze coming in, Max would look good in that bed, long tanned body against the white sheets.

  “What do you say, Aurora?”

  “What?” Her eyes flew open.

  Mike had spoken. He frowned, a look of concern of his weathered face. “Aurora needs to spend more time in bed,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Bed? No,” she murmured, straightening.

  “You were dozing, dear,” Mary said.

  “No…no, I wasn’t.”

  “Dear, you were. Your head was on Max’s shoulder.”

  Aurora stared at Max in pure horror. He looked at her. “It must be the company. I put her right to sleep.”

  “You work too hard,” Mike said sternly. “You need to get to bed earlier.”

  She definitely didn’t want to talk about bed anymore. “Where are we eating?” she asked quickly, to change the subject.

  “An oyster bar on the outskirts of St. Augustine. And I believe we’re almost there.”

  They had arrived. Getting out of the stretch limo was something of a project, what with the two wheelchairs. For once, though, Aurora found her assistance totally unnecessary; Max and Bart had the situation completely under control.

  The garden where they were seated was beautiful, and Mike had preordered the meal of his choice. They were barely seated before the champagne arrived. Aurora tried to demur, but Mike wouldn’t have it. They toasted the wedding to come. Mike explained that he and Mary had wanted a private meal with the two of them, the most important people in their lives, since the wedding itself would be a crowd scene, since everyone at Paradise had been invited.

  There was nothing to do but lift her glass.
The champagne went down easily, but she knew she should take it easy, because she had rehearsal that night. She tried to go easy, but it didn’t seem to matter. Two glasses and she was feeling light-headed. Mike had ordered oysters Rockefeller, clams casino, shrimp cocktail and more. The food was excellent, but somehow eating it seemed to involve more champagne. She knew she was quiet during the meal, but it didn’t seem to matter. Mike was talkative, but apparently he was studying her all the while because, when she suppressed a yawn, he announced that the wedding gift Mary had asked for was going to help her, as well.

  “You asked for a wedding gift?” she said to Mary.

  “Mike insisted.”

  “New beds,” he said.

  “New beds?”

  “For the home. Beds that don’t have to be cranked.”

  She stared at Mike incredulously. “You’re going to buy new beds for the entire home?”

  “Aurora, you, of all people, should realize what a great idea it is,” Mike said.

  “Of course it’s a great idea, but—”

  “Mary thought of it,” Mike said proudly.

  Bart, who had been very quiet during the meal, not wasting time on conversation when the food was so good, spoke up. “That has to be one of the greatest wedding gifts I’ve ever heard of.”

  “I think so, too,” Mike said. He stared straight at Aurora. “You won’t have to run around as much. The nurses and the aides will all have more time to actually help people. Besides, Mary and I both be getting out of rehab soon, so we’re buying a house.”

  “That’s wonderful. But as to Paradise… I’ll still be running around, Mike. It’s not just cranking beds. It’s saying hello to people. Some of them don’t have families, you know.”

  “But saying hello isn’t as tiring as cranking beds,” Max said.

  “Maybe you need a new bed,” Mike said, frowning. “We should get Aurora a new bed, too,” he told Mary.

  “I don’t need a new bed,” she announced defensively. They were all quiet, staring at her. “Thank you, Mike, but really, I don’t need a new bed.”