Catching Mr. Right--A Clean Romance

by Carol Ross

  “No,” she whispered, and he liked that she trembled a bit from his touch.

  “It’s a Celtic knot that symbolizes loyalty and trust.” And love, but he didn’t mention that part. “I’m not sure what is happening between us here, and I know you’re not ready to trust me. But I’m making you a promise. I will earn your trust, Victoria. If you’ll let me.”

  For a few long seconds, her gaze searched his. “I want to,” she said, her voice cracking around the edges. Nodding, she stepped forward and rested her cheek against his muscled chest, and he held her again.

  “Wow,” she breathed softly. “I wish you weren’t leaving tomorrow. I wish this didn’t have to end.”

  Seth brought one hand up to curl around the back of her neck. “Me too,” he whispered, even though he knew in the deepest part of his soul that this was only the beginning.

  * * *

  TWO DAYS OF travel had Hazel back from New Zealand, home in Alaska for a week of “vacation” from her life as a travel blogger. A few days behind Seth’s own return from Louisiana.

  “Why do you keep checking your phone?” Hazel asked, handing him a steaming mug of coffee and then sauntering into the kitchen of their parents’ home.

  Iris had been in Washington, DC, for work and timed her return trip to coincide with Hazel’s. Last night, Tag had met them both in Anchorage and flown them to their tiny town of Rankins on Alaska’s southeastern coast.

  Hazel always stayed with their parents when she came home.

  Their large, two-story arts-and-crafts style house had five bedrooms and plenty of space to raise six kids. After they’d all left the nest, he’d wondered if his parents would downsize. But with the number of grandchildren increasing at a rapid pace, and his mom’s penchant for family gatherings, he doubted it. There might be less people living there now, but it was full of memories and still felt cozy, warm, lived-in. The perfect place to fill his sisters in on all the details he knew they’d want to hear.

  Even though they checked in with each other almost daily, he’d been vague about certain aspects of his experience, namely the ones related to Victoria, which undoubtedly would interest his sisters the most.

  “Uh...” Seth stared at the still blank screen, willing a message from Victoria to appear. Or Scarlett. Something to let him know they’d received the packages.

  He’d worked quickly to set this whole thing up, planning it before he ever left Louisiana, wanting it to happen before she departed for Minnesota. Crazy how nervous he felt now that the delivery day was here.

  He and Vic had been chatting daily via text and exchanging nightly phone calls, getting to know each other better. Mostly, he kept things lighthearted, funny, friendly. No mention of where they might be heading or what the future might hold. Until now. This gesture could definitely be construed as an effort to take things up a notch. Which is exactly what he wanted. But now that it was happening, what if it was too much?

  “I told you that you’d love Louisiana, didn’t I? Was it superhot?” Returning with two more mugs, Hazel passed one to Iris, who was seated near Seth on the large sectional sofa in the great room.

  “You did,” Seth agreed, glancing again at the lifeless display. “And no, not miserably so. It was nice.”

  “Are you expecting an important text?” She took a seat on the adjacent cushions and swung her feet up onto the ottoman.

  “Uh, yeah, sort of.” He scrolled through to reread Quinn’s message: The eagles have landed.

  Initially, the words had made him chuckle. But he should have heard something from Victoria by now. Or Scarlett at the very least. Louisiana was three hours ahead. He’d enlisted Quinn’s help to ensure the safe and coordinated delivery of the packages, and his abstract reference had reassured him. Quinn had loved the fishing vest he’d sent him, too.

  Seth looked up to find both his triplet sisters staring expectantly.

  “Who is she?” Hazel asked.

  “Ashley?” Iris queried at the same time.

  “Ashley!” Scowling, Hazel whipped her head around to look at Iris before then turning again to half shout in his general direction, “Why would Ashley be texting?”

  “Not Ashley,” Seth said and felt a tiny flicker of guilt. Ashley had been texting, and he’d finally agreed to her lunch invitation. There was nothing to feel guilty about, he reassured himself, he and Ashley were just friends. Granted, she’d been a little friendlier than usual lately, but he’d written that off to her satisfaction with her new job working for their brother Tag’s air transport company. Getting back on her feet after her divorce and all that. He wasn’t interested, hadn’t been in a long time. And he intended to reiterate that at lunch, which was the reason he’d accepted the invite.

  “Please tell me you’re not seeing her again.”

  “No, Hazel, I’m not.”

  “Then why would Iris ask if you were expecting a text from her?”

  “Did she ask that?” he asked absentmindedly.

  “Yes, she did,” Hazel returned sharply. The only reason Ashley is interested in you again is because she thinks you’re going to be famous.”

  “Hazel, I love you,” Iris said. “But that is not true. She was interested before Seth ever applied for the Romeo Reels position.”

  “Of course, she was,” Hazel exaggerated her agreement. “Because Ashley has changed.”

  “Yes, I believe she has,” Iris confirmed.

  Hazel’s eyes narrowed, and she swiveled toward Iris with a laser beam glare. “Not where Seth is concerned. And aside from the fact that you’ve forgiven her for the crimes she perpetrated against you, which I have not done, by the way, this is the same woman who strung Seth along for years before telling him she could never marry just a fisherman. Do you recall that little detail that left our brother devastated for years, Iris?”

  Just a fisherman. Seth almost winced. Interesting, how that still jabbed a little.

  “People change, Hazel,” Seth pointed out.

  “Not that much, Seth, they don’t. Not her.”

  That’s when Seth knew he needed to stop this conversation. Ashley was the one topic on which the three of them did not agree. Hazel had a double-barreled reason for despising Ashley; she had bullied Iris all through school. Iris had since forgiven Ashley, who’d moved back to town the previous summer.

  Then there was Seth’s history with her. After crushing hard on her for years, Seth had given up hope when she’d brutally informed him that she could never marry him, just a fisherman, and promptly married someone else. Now a divorced mother of three, Ashley did seem different. In addition to making amends with Iris, she’d apologized to Seth as well, and formally asked for his friendship. A friendship he’d granted, much to Hazel’s dismay.

  Seth nodded. “You were right about the snakes, Iris.”

  She grinned. “Of course, I was. I don’t make this stuff up. Did you see any?”

  “I did. The kid I told you about, Quinn?—he caught one. It was a rat snake. At first, I thought he was holding a ball of rope, and when I realized what it was, I just froze. And then Quinn—”

  “If it’s not Ashley, then who has you all tied up in knots?” Hazel interjected, derailing his attempt at a subject change.

  “Vic,” he confessed, because he couldn’t keep anything from his sisters. Not for long anyway. “From Louisiana.”

  “Vic,” Hazel repeated, tapping a finger to her chin. “The dude you’re competing with?”

  “Yes, except he’s not a dude. Vic is short for Victoria.”

  “Oh,” Hazel said, eyebrows darting high onto her forehead.

  “Oh!” Iris chirped at the same time, expression in perfect sync with Hazel’s.

  Then, heads turning toward one another, he watched as his sisters exchanged one of those drawn-out, talking without words, triplet mind melds that Seth knew well. In ta
ndem, they looked back at Seth and crooned, “Ohhh...”

  “So, you’re falling for this woman? While you compete for the same awesome job?” Iris asked.

  “Maybe. And yes.”

  “But there’s no way she’s as good as you are,” Iris stated this as fact. His sister’s faith in him was both endearing and well-earned. Last summer, he’d managed to teach her how to halibut fish like a seasoned angler in just a few days in order to impress her boss. “How will she handle losing to you?”

  Oddly, her pronouncement produced nearly equal measures of pride and concern. “She is, actually. Just as good. Better in some ways.”

  Hazel studied him with a puzzled scowl. “Do you honestly believe you can be romantically involved when this is all over?”

  “Yes, sure. Why not? But we’re not exactly romantic. Not yet, anyway.” He was beginning to accept that because he hadn’t heard from Victoria, it likely meant he’d gone overboard with this gift. Probably, he should have consulted his sisters first.

  “But you want to be,” Hazel stated, and he nodded because he knew there was no point in arguing. “What’s your plan?”

  “Well, I sent her this gift. I sent everyone gifts, and Quinn, too. But now, I haven’t heard from her, and I’m doubting myself. She has trust issues, which are totally warranted. I’ve been trying not to rush things but—”

  “Gifts for the whole family?” Iris interrupted.

  “Oh, boy.” Hazel reached over and squeezed Iris’s knee.

  “Yeah, you know, like a thank-you for hosting me and everything.” Although, the gifts were way beyond what he’d typically extend in a situation like this.

  Iris asked, “Was her gift expensive?”

  “Not really...” he hedged. “I mean, retail value would be a lot. But Kella gave me a great deal.” Kella Jakobs was a local artist whose work had gained international acclaim and fetched top dollar. “Because I supply her with fish. But it’s not about that. Vic would see right through some expensive trinket. It’s more...”

  “Thoughtful?”

  “Yes. Okay, here’s the situation...?”

  He went on to explain, and by the time he’d finished, both his sisters were gaping at him, stunned. Which was understandable; he’d never gone to such lengths gift-wise. “I’m trying to say something specific with the gift—you know what I mean?”

  “We get it,” Hazel breathed softly, still looking a bit stupefied.

  “He’s gone,” Iris murmured.

  His sisters exchanged another knowing look that had Seth feeling fidgety and embarrassed.

  “Seth.” Hazel leaned forward. “You are aware of my list.”

  Dipping his head, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Of course, Hazel.”

  The Romantic Interest List. His sister’s list outlined acts and deeds that she was convinced could judge the degree of a man’s feelings. The least little infringement could send his sister running. Things like calling or texting more than once a day or asking to meet family members or close friends before it seemed appropriate. The list was long and rather ridiculous, in his opinion, in that it included things like sharing drinks and silverware. Except, now that he thought about it, why did he want his family to meet Victoria? He’d never particularly cared about his family meeting a woman he dated. It was just that Vic was so different than anyone he’d ever dated. So much better and...

  Uh-oh.

  “Well, in case you’ve forgotten, thoughtful gifts are one of the biggest indicators of romantic interest. So, I can promise you that whatever you’re trying to say to your Victoria, she has now heard you loud and clear.”

  * * *

  “I GOT A PACKAGE?” Scarlett asked, peering down toward the boxes stacked just inside the door of the resort’s office.

  Seated behind the desk, Victoria answered, “Yes, Scarlett, you can have some chips. One package only, though. Gram is making pot roast for dinner and—”

  “No, Mama, I’m not talking about the chips...” She knelt for a closer inspection. “I did! I got an actual package!” Scarlett sprang to her feet and did a little dance that made Victoria smile, despite her surprise and suspicion. Then she scooped up the rectangle-shaped box and held it up for Victoria’s inspection. “Look, it has my name on it.”

  The delivery had arrived a few hours before, but a busy Victoria had assumed all the boxes were part of the inventory she’d ordered several days prior. She’d barely glanced at the pile since it was delivered. Quinn, bless him, had appeared out of nowhere and stacked them neatly inside the office for her.

  “Who from?” Victoria asked, even though she deduced that it must be from Austin. More evidence of his recent odd behavior.

  “You got one, too.”

  “What?”

  “So did Mémé and Gram! It’s like Christmas. Except better, because I never get packages in the mail at Christmas.”

  Victoria stood. No way was Austin playing Santa Claus with the whole family. She crossed over toward Scarlett to see for herself.

  “Can I open it?”

  “Is there a return address?”

  “Nope.” Scarlett held it up for her inspection.

  “Huh. Yeah, sure. Go ahead.”

  “Aren’t you going to open yours?” She bobbed her head toward a smaller box now stacked on top of what she could see was one of the much larger boxes she’d been expecting.

  “Yes, but after you.”

  “Wait! Should we get Mémé and Gram, and all open them together?”

  Ugh. Victoria felt a stab of pride and affection for her daughter, whose kind heart often swept Victoria off her feet. She was like Gram in that way.

  “That is extremely thoughtful, Scarlett. Yes, run and get them.”

  Scarlett disappeared through the doorway and into the breezeway that attached the office to the house. When she’d gone, Vic inspected the packages. Scarlett was right; there was no return address. Strange.

  “Now, what is Scarlett going on about?” A harassed-looking Mémé asked a few short minutes later, following Corinne and Scarlett inside the office. “This is some sort of a mistake. I’ve never gotten a package that I didn’t already know was on the way.”

  Victoria offered up a helpless shrug. “I’m not sure. All I know is that we all got one.”

  “Yours is heavy, Mémé.” Scarlett placed the package on the desk. “See? It says Ms. Effie Thibodeaux right on it.”

  “Hmph,” she snorted disbelievingly. Mémé came closer to give the package a proper scowl.

  “This one is for you, Gram.”

  “Thank you, Scarlett, honey,” Corinne said. “Now, Victoria, do you know who is sending us gifts?”

  “Gifts!” Mémé huffed again. “I am way too old to be getting a gift.”

  “No, Mama, I don’t. I swear.”

  After retrieving Vic’s package, Scarlett stood before them and clapped her hands. “So, should we go one at a time? Or everyone at once?”

  But it was too late. Mémé was already digging in. Nimble fingers were peeling away layers of paper and bubble wrap, which she let fall to the floor just as an eager Scarlett might.

  Scarlett made quick work of her box, too. Rocking back on her heels, she let out a loud gasp and then, “Oh my...” before slapping a hand over her mouth. Removing the hand, she reached into the box and pulled out the gift. “It’s a reel.”

  “A fishing reel?” Victoria repeated. “Is it a Romeo?” Was that it? Had the company sent gifts for everyone?

  “No. It’s a Dynamo. And it’s big, too, like for salmon and steelhead. Wait, and the card says there’s a Dynamo rod to match coming in the mail...”

  “Of course,” Victoria whispered to herself. Their Santa Claus, it was now apparent, was of the Alaskan variety. A Dynamo, she knew, was Seth’s preferred rod for catching steelhead. He’d mention
ed it when they’d been fishing in the Gulf.

  “Do you think it could be from Mr. James?” Scarlett asked, right there with her in figuring it out. “Like for our trip to Alaska?”

  “Victoria! It’s an ulu.” Corinne cried, holding up the traditional Native Alaskan cutting tool. “I asked Seth about them, but I most certainly was not hinting around. And look at this beautiful, fancy handle. This is too expensive. I have to send it back. I cannot wait to see if it works as well as Millie says...”

  Victoria barely squelched a laugh because for something she intended to return she sure was in a hurry to try out.

  “I found a card!” Scarlett cried. “It is from Mr. James.”

  “Well, if this doesn’t beat all...” Mémé muttered, drawing Victoria’s attention again. “That child is out of his mind.” She sounded almost cross, but Victoria knew her grandmother’s nuances very well. It was her I’m getting choked up but trying to fight it tone. From the box, she pulled a sparkling glass pitcher and then let out a little gasp. “For my tea.”

  “Mémé, it’s so pretty!” Scarlett exclaimed. “Look at that etching. What does it say?” Mémé held it out for Scarlett’s inspection, who read aloud, “‘Memories Should Be As Sweet As Tea.’”

  Victoria went to work on her small package. Peeling away the layers of tissue paper revealed a silver chain with a jade pendant in the shape of a lovely and intricate symmetrical knot. Her breath caught, her heart melting and twisting because she recognized the symbol.

  As long as she lived, she’d never forget it. Or the moment Seth had drawn the exact pattern on the palm of her hand. Even now, she could recall how his touch had electrified her skin. How with one fingertip, he’d managed to warm every inch of her body from the inside out. How her heart had seemed to expand and contract at the same time. Since the moment he’d let go, she’d longed to feel that again.

  With trembling fingers, she removed the necklace from the box. A slip of paper tucked inside read, “Crafted for Victoria with love by Kella Jakobs, fine artisan, Rankins, Alaska.” Handmade. Special ordered. How in the world had he accomplished all of this so quickly?