“That sounds ominous. Should I be worried?”
He laughed. “I propose . . . a turning of tables.”
Hanna narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you mean?”
“Oh nothing . . . just making him wildly jealous.”
She dismissed the notion with a derisive chuckle. “He would actually have to be looking over for that to work.”
“Oh, he’ll be looking over, don’t you worry.”
“Why?” Hanna said warily. “What are you going to do?”
“Nothing much,” Eli replied. “Except flirt with you, fawn all over you, and play the part of a besotted, lovesick idiot.”
When Hanna slit her eyes at him in suspicion, Eli wiggled his eyebrows at her. “It could be a lot of fun . . .”
She dismissed the idea without delay. “I’m sure it would be, just not at the expense of anyone’s feelings.”
“It wouldn’t be only that. I think you’re a great girl, Hanna, and I’d love to get to know you better. If Derick Wentworth happens to sit up and take notice, so much the better for you.” Here he raised his hands in a faultless gesture.
Something about this speech rubbed Hanna entirely the wrong way. Was it the dishonesty of the whole plan or perhaps the thought of Derick feeling something negative in regard to her? She couldn’t say, and before she could pin it down, the sensation lifted as they approached Uppercross.
“This is me,” Hanna said, dipping her head toward the house. They stood awkwardly for a moment, Eli with his hands in his pockets and Hanna with hers clasped behind her back. “So I’ll see you tomorrow?” she ventured.
“Four o’clock, right? Should I bring anything?”
“Honestly you know more about it than I do at this point. I think it’s safe to say that Ella has put in some overtime on her matchmaking skills.”
Eli looked delighted at this information. “Good . . . another player for our team.”
Exasperated, Hanna took a step in his direction. “Eli, I really appreciate what you’re trying to do for me, but I’ve never been one for schemes and lying.”
“Who says I’d be lying?” Eli asked, stepping into the space between them. “The truth is . . .” he paused here, giving her a crooked, self-deprecating smile. “The truth is I’ve kind of been kicking myself for not getting your number the other day.”
Hanna looked away, embarrassed. Nothing in his words or looks spoke of anything but sincerity, and yet . . . part of her felt like the acting had already begun.
“I was hoping you’d put me out of my misery,” he added, holding his phone out to Hanna.
She eyed him for a minute, trying to deduce why on earth she was hesitating. Perhaps she was overthinking the whole thing—and overthinking was what had gotten her into trouble all those years ago. Second-guessing herself in the past had only ended in heartache—a heartache she was still paying for to this day.
Here was a sweet, good-looking, fun, single guy who was asking for her number. What was to think about?
Taking his phone, she punched in her number, hit “send” and handed it back to him.
His answering grin was about as wide as Old Lyme Beach.
When her phone jingled, she answered with an unassuming “Hello?”
“Hanna?” He grinned, playing along. “This is Eli—the tall, dark, handsome photographer from the harbor?”
“Eli . . . Eli . . . Hm. It’s not ringing a bell.”
“Nice,” Eli laughed, ending the fake call. “Why don’t you text me what to bring tomorrow if you think of anything.”
“Sounds good,” Hanna said, backing toward Uppercross. “Thanks again for walking me home. And for listening.”
“Anytime,” he called back, heading down the beach. “Make sure you get a good night’s sleep tonight—tomorrow it begins.”
Hanna responded by rolling her eyes and waving as she let herself into the house.
☼
Of course, she had no way of knowing that it had already begun, that two doors down, a certain person sat perched on the steps in the dark, watching the mute interaction with a begrudging interest.
THIRTEEN
DAISIES and DIZZY SPELLS
All that remained was to . . . draw as many eyes, excite as many whispers, and disturb as many people as they could.
—Jane Austen, Persuasion
The following day, after Derick and Ella had played in the ocean for a few hours, Ella announced that she was going home to shower before the bonfire. Derick toweled off and was about to head home to do the same, when he looked up and saw Hanna struggling through the back door of Uppercross with a large folding table. Why she was trying to manage it alone when she had a brother-in-law to help, Derick couldn’t say. While he wasn’t overly thrilled with the prospect of being within ten feet of her, it seemed rather heartless not to step up and help—especially as it was on his way home.
Having managed to push the table as far as she could, Hanna switched sides, presumably to use her weight to pull it the rest of the way out the door. If memory served, she had never been over a buck-ten, and as she looked about the same in that regard, Derick saw little hope in her managing the task herself.
As Derick approached from behind, the table caught on the track of the sliding door and Hanna flew backward, smacking into Derick’s chest. Without thinking, he brought his arms up to steady her.
It was clear from her expression when she turned that she hadn’t been expecting to find him there. Several emotions morphed her features: shock, bewilderment, and from the red spreading over her face with a vengeance—mortification.
“I-I’m so sorry,” she stuttered. “I didn’t see you—”
“My fault,” Derick said, holding up a hand. “I should have said something.”
They stood awkwardly, both of them suspended in a moment of viscous unease. Then Derick grabbed the table and heaved it the rest of the way outside. It really was heavy; he was surprised Hanna made any progress at all with such a weight. After a moment’s hesitation she grabbed the other end, and together they hauled it outside and set it up in the sand.
“That was easier,” Hanna said, scratching her neck. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Anything else I can bring out?”
She shook her head. “The rest is all small stuff I can handle.”
Derick nodded. He should be heading off to clean up now. But he felt like this was the moment to get over the embarrassment that haunted them like a relentless ghost every time they found themselves in the same room.
“Are you having a good summer?” he tried.
Hanna blinked, evidently flummoxed by his attempt at small talk. “Yes. What about you? Do you like Old Lyme?”
“It’s perfect,” Derick admitted. Then, to his own astonishment he found himself expounding the thought. “It’s kind of tucked away, like a deserted island.”
Hanna watched him for a moment with wide, pale eyes—faded blue eyes, like the sky at first light. She smiled, just a bit. “I imagine privacy means more to you than it used to.”
For some reason this observation caught Derick off guard. The Hanna he knew had never been a sports fan, so he found it unlikely that she would be up-to-date on his career—but the remark showed a disturbing amount of insight. He found it annoying that Hanna’s sense of intuition hadn’t aged along with her.
Choosing to ignore the comment, Derick said, “I’m going to head back to Kelynch and clean up. You’re sure there’s nothing else you need help with?”
Hanna shook her head. “Thanks again.”
“Yep,” Derick answered, turning and making his way back home.
Hanna Elliot had no right to understand him that way anymore. If future attempts at civility were to end the same way, he would avoid the niceties altogether.
☼
Hanna’s hands might have been busy, filling the table on the beach with relish trays, paper cups, and bowls of tortilla chips, but her mind was elsewhere. She kept replaying her meetin
g with Derick, kept chanting to herself that the worst was over, that they’d finally spoken and it could only get easier. She was so distracted by her thoughts that she didn’t notice Eli coming down the beach until he was nearly upon her.
“Hey!” she said, delighted to have something new to think about. And a very charming something he was, too, in faded jeans and a red shirt that brought out his tan. His curly hair looked wet, and his brown eyes were warm with delight as he handed her a bunch of yellow daisies.
“Hey, yourself.”
“How beautiful!” Hanna said. “What are these for?”
“They’re for you,” he answered with a shrug. “You didn’t tell me to bring anything, so I figured flowers were a safe bet.”
“How sweet of you.” Truthfully, she had never been given flowers before, even if the flowers were more of a potluck item. “Why don’t you come inside while I see about a vase?”
Eli followed her obediently into the house, leaning against the counter and watching the progress of her search.
“You’re the first one to arrive,” she said as she rummaged in cupboards, unable to resist the urge to fill the silence.
“I may be early. Do you need help with anything?”
“I don’t think so,” she said, coming up with a tall canning jar. “Do you think this will work?”
“Very country-chic,” he agreed, sidling up next to her. “You look nice, by the way.”
“Thanks,” Hanna said, coloring only a little. Today she had put on a navy and white striped knit dress that ended just above her knee. It felt billowy and comfortable, like an oversized pillowcase cinched at the waist. Leading the way back outside, Hanna gestured to the flowers. “Should we put these on the table?”
“Sure, except for this one.” Eli stepped around to face her, plucked a single daisy from the vase and tucked it behind her left ear, hiding the stem in one of her braids. “There. Now a certain sailor will see that I have staked my claim on you.”
Hanna did blush in earnest now. “You’re terrible, you know that?”
“So I’ve heard.” He grinned, not a bit ashamed.
Shaking her head, Hanna moved past him and set the flowers on the table.
Within half an hour, everyone who’d been invited, and some who hadn’t, had turned up. There really was a different feeling in Old Lyme, like stepping into a bubble where time moved slower, life was easier, and even emergencies were less urgent.
Eli played his part so well that even Hanna was nearly convinced by the time pies were brought out for dessert. Thankfully, he’d kept his hands to himself, though his eyes hardly ever strayed from her. In truth she was grateful for the distraction. Across the fire, Derick and Ella seemed to have eyes for no one but each other. While Eli’s attentions toward Hanna were smooth, calculated, and quiet, Ella was anything but. When she wasn’t giggling, she was squealing. When she wasn’t squealing, she was tickling, tackling, or tantalizing Derick in some way. He didn’t seem to mind though, which made the whole thing that much harder to swallow.
More than once, Hanna glimpsed Sophie eyeing her brother with something very like distaste. For anyone who was watching, it was clear that Derick’s sister did not approve. The thought made Hanna feel somewhat better. Benny, too, seemed less than impressed with the display, but as Hanna didn’t know him very well, she couldn’t say for sure. He could be thinking about Phoebe.
Eli excused himself for a bathroom break, and Hanna returned her attention to Benny. Recalling that she hadn’t yet returned his copy of Lady of the Lake, she went inside to get it. A thought occurred to her on the way—that she could suggest something for him to read as well. Seizing the book she’d just finished from her bedside table, Hanna took both outside.
Plopping next to Benny in the sand, she said, “Hey, how’s it going?”
“Oh, you know—living the dream. You?”
“Another day in paradise,” Hanna answered, mirroring his tone.
Benny almost smiled.
“I finished Lady of the Lake,” she said, handing him the little book.
His eyebrows shot up—clearly he hadn’t thought her sincerely interested. “You actually read it?”
Something about his surprise made Hanna sad, as though everyone pitied him but no one made an effort. “I loved it!” Hanna declared, gratified by the widening of Benny’s eyes.
“I’m impressed. Most people don’t care much for poetry, let alone the classic stuff.”
“You have to put yourself in a different frame of mind,” Hanna allowed. “Otherwise you get all tangled up in the language and end up with a migraine.”
Benny chuckled, and the sound warmed Hanna’s heart. She watched him for a moment, deciding that under his shaggy beard and surly temperament, he could be quite handsome if he tried.
“Anyway,” she continued, “I brought you something to read as well.”
Benny lifted a skeptical eyebrow, reading off the title. “Robinson Crusoe?” He eyed her with a speculative expression, running a hand along his scruffy face. “Is this a chick-lit thing?”
Grinning, Hanna shook her head. “It’s another classic, actually. Something new for you to read. I just finished it myself.”
He considered her through narrowed eyes, then finally sighed his resignation. “Okay, you win. On one condition, though.”
Delighted, Hanna waited in anticipation.
“Promise me when I’m done with it we don’t have to have a book club where we talk about retaining water or hormonal binging.”
“You got it,” she assured him with a grin. “See you later,” she told him, moving toward Eli, who had just returned.
☼
By the time it was dark and the boys were being shuffled off to bed, Mary began complaining of a headache and turned in herself. The barbecue participants had dwindled significantly, until just the guests of the two houses remained.
Across the fire, Derick and Ella were sharing a piece of pie, polishing off the last of the canned whipped cream. She was actually spoon-feeding him bites, then squirting a blob of cream in his mouth to follow it up. Hanna was about to choke on the wretchedness of the whole display when Ella got crazy with the can and began spraying it all over Derick’s face. And squealed. Again.
Apparently Eli had had enough of the show as well. He stood, tugging Hanna to her feet.
“Let’s go for a walk,” he suggested, clasping her hand in his and setting off.
Hanna was beyond grateful to him, not only for giving her an escape, but for somehow understanding her need for silence. Their hands were still twined as they put Uppercross behind them, winding their way through the moonlit ocean shallows for several minutes.
“You okay?” Eli asked as they approached the pier.
“I think so,” Hanna answered. It was such a relief to have at least one person who she could be totally honest with, one person she didn’t have to put on a show for.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really. It’s pretty self-explanatory, don’t you think?”
Eli shrugged. “What I think is that they have no idea what their PDA does to the appetites of innocent bystanders.”
Hanna laughed before she could help it, and Eli dimpled at her in response. He really was beyond charming with his dark curls and twinkly brown eyes. A chunk of the burden on Hanna’s back lifted as they stepped onto the pier.
“Seriously, though,” he laughed, feeding off her reaction. “They’re one of those I love you more couples. It’s downright nauseating.”
Hanna couldn’t agree more, but she didn’t care for his classifying them as a couple. “He didn’t used to be that way. At least not with me . . .”
“So what’s the deal, anyway? All you’ve told me is that you dated before.”
“Who says there’s a ‘deal’?” she asked carefully.
He laughed without mirth. “Come on, Hanna. I may not know you very well, but I somehow doubt you’d be this broken up over a guy yo
u went out with a couple times.”
At the end of the pier, Hanna stepped away from him, resting her hands on the bleached wood as she looked out at the black water that heaved in time with her emotions. Eli faced her, leaning his back against the same stretch of wood in a posture of patient expectation.
Hanna sighed her resignation, then relayed the whole awful history. Eli was a great listener, outraged in all the right places, and fully supportive of Hanna’s position in general.
“I can’t believe he just took off like that,” he told her in a disgusted tone as they began the return journey to Uppercross. “He never called or anything?”
Hanna shook her head. “I tried calling him, but never got so much as voicemail. It was like he just dropped off the earth. When I finally heard about him coming in first in the race, I was so mad I decided I didn’t care about his reasons anymore.”
“I think you’re better off. He’s obviously not very mature. Maybe that’s why he gets along so well with Ella.”
Hanna nodded absently. Objectively it made sense, but Derick had never been immature. Even now, he didn’t seem that way to her. Eli laced his fingers with Hanna’s, pulling her into step at his side as they began the return stroll home. The feel of his skin on hers sent little tingles up and down her arm. Thank goodness the darkness would cover her blush.
“How are your pictures coming along?” she asked once her embarrassment had passed.
“I think I got what I needed down at the harbor. Tomorrow I’m heading downtown to get some shots.”
“Old Town Lyme?” Hanna asked with more than a hint of longing in her voice. She still hadn’t been back to visit the shops she’d passed on her way in.
“Yeah . . . you interested in going with me?”
“Of course!” she answered, hoping she didn’t sound too eager. “If you don’t mind me tagging along.”
“I wouldn’t have invited you if I minded,” he told her with a crooked grin, tightening his grip around her hand for emphasis. Then he cleared his throat. “Actually, I wanted to ask if you’d like to have lunch with me. There are supposed to be some great restaurants downtown.”
Persuaded Page 8
