LF47 - Love Finds You in Folly Beach, South Carolina

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LF47 - Love Finds You in Folly Beach, South Carolina Page 5

by Loree Lough


  “No problem,” she said, giving him a playful elbow jab to the ribs. “I saw a computer in your mom’s parlor. You can look it up when we get back to her place. That way, the next time you bring someone here, you’ll be ‘up’ on all its history.”

  On the heels of a dry chuckle, he said, “There are two chances of me bringing anyone else here…slim and none.” A harrumph followed, and then, “I have chores to do at my place when we get back to Folly Beach.”

  A swan paddled past, followed closely by a mallard. “He’d better watch himself,” Holly said, pointing at the duck. “Swans are as mean as they are beautiful.”

  “Mean?”

  “You bet…with a capital M! The reason I know is…” She rested against the rail and said, “Since Baltimore is only a short drive from DC, friends and family from all over the country used our house as free lodging when they wanted to visit the Capitol. Sometimes we’d tag along. The last time I was there, a swan came up and bit me.” She held out her hand. “I sported a bruise for nearly a week!”

  He frowned then watched the bird’s graceful glide across the pond. “Ah, doing the ‘bring some bread, attract some birds’ tourist thing and didn’t let go fast enough, eh?”

  “Nope. No bread, not even a crumb. That crazy thing singled me out of the crowd and backed me into a tree, wings flapping like crazy, and grabbed hold of my thumb. Held on tight for what seemed like a full minute.” Shivering, she laughed. “I had nightmares about it for years, I tell you!”

  By now the swan had rounded the bend of the tiny stream that fed the pond. “Is that why it was your last visit to DC?”

  She laughed. “No. With school and work, I just never had the time.”

  “How old were you?” Parker asked, absentmindedly rubbing his knee. “When the swan bit you, I mean.”

  She glanced at his fingers. An injury sustained while serving in the military? She hoped not, because the thought of him facing an enemy in battle made her cringe. “I was ten. Almost to the day.” They’d been walking nearly an hour before stopping here on the bridge. Maybe he could use a short break, to rest his leg. Holly pointed to the many-windowed building across the way. “I sure could go for a cup of coffee. Maybe even a sandwich.” She looked up at him. “How ’bout you? Hungry?”

  “You’re hungry already? After egg biscuits and fruit—and coffee? You must have a hollow leg.”

  Groaning, she hung her head. “Oh, great. Now you sound like my mom. ‘You can eat your father under the table,’ she says. ‘Where do you put it all…in a hollow leg?’ ”

  He checked his watch. “Well, it is after noon.” After a quick glance toward the building, Parker said, “There is a luncheonette in there, but I have a better idea.” Then he grabbed her hand. “When was the last time you took a carriage ride?”

  “Well, I—would you believe I’ve never been on a carriage ride?” She’d seen horse-drawn carriages in movies, even watched a few trot by while in New York on business, and without exception, it had seemed a charming mode of travel.

  “Well, then, it’s high time you learned what you’ve been missing.”

  As he helped her into a buggy, Holly wondered which of the ex-girlfriends Opal referred to had shared romantic carriage ride moments with Parker. The question rang in her mind even as he rehashed the sights he’d shown her in the French Quarter and at Marion Square. Then he mentioned Sullivan’s Island and Patriot’s Point. “We won’t have time for that today,” he was saying as the carriage driver turned on to Anson Street. “But like you said earlier, we have all summer. If you want to see the rest of the city, I’m sure you won’t have any trouble talking Maude into going with you. Once her feet are all healed up, of course. She loves it down here. For that matter, so does Opal. The three of you could make a day of it, shopping and…and doing whatever it is that women do when they’re together.”

  Sweet and fun-loving as they were, Holly didn’t want to see those things with Maude or Opal. Didn’t want to make a day of it with either of them. If she came back to historic Charleston, it would be with Parker or not at all. Which made no sense. No sense at all. What sort of airhead starts falling for a guy she’d only met hours ago?

  The same kind who falls for a card-carrying womanizer, that’s who. It surprised her that it still hurt this much, remembering how Ethan Jeffreys had so blithely left her without explanation or apology. She’d taken a chance on him—a big chance, considering how long it took her to get over Jimmy’s death and—

  “Better get your cameras loaded and aimed,” said their driver as he led his two-horse team up Concord Street. “I’m sure you’ve read all about it, my friends: this is the world-famous Rainbow Row.”

  Holly sat up straighter and pretended that it took all her attention to prepare for a photo op. She’d read about these beautiful old houses while studying for her trip south, and she’d hoped to see them while in South Carolina. Built in the mid-1700s, the neighbor-hood definitely earned its name.

  So why hadn’t the colorful neighborhood brightened her mood?

  “You’re awfully quiet.”

  She hid behind her camera. “Just trying not to miss anything, that’s all.”

  If anyone had asked her to repeat the back-and-forth banter between Parker and the driver during the rest of their hour-long tour, Holly didn’t know how she’d have answered.Snap out of it, Holly, because what’s done is done.

  It was nearly two when Parker slid his pickup into a parking space at Bubba Gump’s Shrimp House. “I have two confessions to make.”

  “Oh?”

  He held up a forefinger. “That was my first carriage ride.” His middle finger popped up beside it. “I rarely eat out much, and when I do, I avoid chain restaurants.” After helping her step down from the truck, he added, “But I think you’ll find that this one is an exception.”

  After asking the hostess to seat them near a window, Parker made a few menu suggestions. They’d barely placed their orders when a blaring baritone turned every head in the place. “Parker, you young rascal, you, come over here and say hello!”

  Grinning, he waved at the white-bearded gent across the way. “That’s Colonel Boone, my former commander and one of my best charter-boat customers. Would you believe that the old general is a direct descendant of Daniel himself?”

  “Daniel, as in Boone?”

  “One and the same.” He winked. “Or so he claims.” Parker gave Holly’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you.”

  “No, no…you go ahead and say hello. I need to powder my nose anyway.”

  “Okay, I won’t be long.” He started to walk away and then said, “Don’t be surprised if he invites himself to join us.”

  “I hope he does. He looks like a man with some wonderful tales to tell.” Tales about you, she thought, smiling.

  And then before he’d taken more than a couple of steps, a beautiful blond walked up and took hold of his arm. “Well, as I live and breathe,” she said, “if it isn’t the handsome and elusive Parker Brant.”

  Chapter Six

  Parker had made it halfway to Boone’s table when a tall, willowy blond blocked his path.

  “Stephanie,” he said, looking into that oh-so-familiar face. He prayed she hadn’t heard the hitch in his voice. “What are you doing here?”

  Her smile had often reminded him of the Cheshire cat, but never more than at that moment.

  “Well, that’s hardly what I’d call a warm welcome.” She laughed. “I could ask you the same question, but…”

  Her cool green-eyed gaze slid to Holly, who was so busy reading the menu that she didn’t seem to have noticed Stephanie’s scrutiny.

  A waiter stopped beside them and hoisted his food-laden tray onto his shoulder. “Can I help you, sir? Ma’am?”

  Blinking, Parker stepped aside. “No. No, the lady was just making her way back to her own table.”

  The man gave Stephanie a quick once-over and shrugged, as if to say, “Your loss, pal,
’cause she’s a looker,” before walking away.

  Peripheral vision told Parker that the hall leading to the rest-rooms was only steps away. He might have taken it…if he hadn’t noticed Holly, looking from him to Stephanie and back again.

  “Well, nice running into you, Steph. Enjoy your lunch,” he said, striding purposefully back to his table.

  The hint of a smile lifted one corner of Holly’s mouth as he slid onto his chair. “Old friend?”

  “Hmpf. More like an old—”

  Stephanie stepped up beside him and said, with one long-taloned hand on his shoulder, “I can’t tell you what a wonderful surprise it was, seeing you after all this time.”

  Parker heaved a sigh.

  “I’ve missed you so. And who can blame me? You’re even more gorgeous now than—”

  “Seriously, Steph. Don’t do this, okay?”

  Uninvited, she sat beside him. Only concern for Holly kept him from giving her a scene to remember.

  “To answer your unasked question, Parker, I’m in town for the week on business.” She raised one severely plucked eyebrow and added, “Wouldn’t it be lovely if we could get together for dinner… or something?”

  He started to say “Not on your life,” but as usual, she was a beat quicker.

  “So tell me, what brings you to Charleston? I remember only too well how much you despise the hustle-bustle of the tourists.”

  He shouldn’t have hesitated, because in the instant it took to decide whether or not to admit it wasn’t Charleston but her demanding ways he’d come to despise, Stephanie zeroed in on Holly.

  “I’m Stephanie. And you are…?”

  “Holly Leonard.”

  He knew that look. If he didn’t do something, and fast, Stephanie would find it necessary to point out that they’d been engaged. She might even add that when the preacher got to the part where she was supposed to say “I do,” she walked out of the chapel and never looked back. Or that three days later, when she finally answered her door, she’d calmly announced that it hadn’t been fair, leading him to believe that she could spend a lifetime in Folly Beach, married to a charter fishing boat captain.

  “Aren’t you the slightest bit interested to hear what sort of business brings me back to South Carolina?”

  He got a quick mental picture of the way her suitcases looked that day, lined up in the foyer where it would be easy for the taxi driver to grab them.

  His silence wiped the phony smile from her face, and she fiddled with his napkin. Rearranged the salt and pepper shakers. Tapped the pad of her forefinger against the handle of his butter knife. Next, he knew, her lower lip would poke out and she’d start blinking, one of a half-dozen “bring on the tears” exercises she’d mastered.

  Through it all, Holly sat stiff-backed and stiff-upper-lipped. She didn’t know anything about his history with Stephanie, and if he had anything to say about it, she never would.

  But he didn’t want her thinking he was a heartless cad, either, so he said, “Look. Steph. I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay in town. It was…” He swallowed, mostly to buy time as he summoned the nerve to tell her to take a hike. “It was good seeing you, but we need to get back to Folly, so…”

  Stephanie rose slowly then stood beside him. “Not a day goes by that I don’t regret leaving the way I did. I should have called. To apologize, if nothing else, but—”

  “Seriously, Steph,” he said again. “It’s all water under the bridge.”

  “Good-bye, Parker. Have a nice life.”

  And with that, she swaggered toward the door and hopefully out of his life.

  A minute, perhaps two, passed before Holly said, “I’ve learned through painful experience never to order crab cakes outside Baltimore city limits.” She rolled her eyes. “Oh, the awful things they do to them!” A light laugh punctuated her opinion. “I think I’ll try the sampler…a little bit of everything. And tell them to hold the crab.”

  She met his eyes. “So tell me, Romeo, what’re you hungry for?”

  The answer lay somewhere between the biggest lobster in the tank, a minute in the alley—where he’d give Stephanie a real piece of his mind—and a kiss from Holly’s still-smiling lips.

  On second thought, he didn’t really feel much like tearing into a crustacean. Didn’t relish the idea of a skirmish with his ex, either. And it was way too soon to think about kissing Holly. One finger aloft, he signaled their waiter and ordered two samplers and then asked if she preferred iced tea or lemonade.

  “Water’s fine.” She looked up at the waiter. “With a slice of lemon, please, if it isn’t too much trouble?”

  “That sounds good. Make it two.” Parker handed the man their menus. “Well,” he said, laughing, once they were alone again, “that was uncomfortable.”

  When she fixed those big blue eyes on him, he was powerless to do little more than blink.

  “Now who’s making mountains out of molehills?” she said, grinning. “I’m sure people ask him for lemons dozens of times a day.”

  When she pursed her lips, he read it as a sign that she didn’t want to discuss the scene with Stephanie. Maybe at some point during their summer together, he’d tell her the whole sad story. Or not. For now, he’d stick to small talk. Unfortunately, he’d never been much good at it.

  “Not bad,” he said, looking around.

  He half expected her to agree, by commenting on the nautical decor or the water view on the other side of the window. Instead, she wrapped both hands around the bowl of her water goblet and chased a dewdrop with the pad of her thumb. As she caught it, one corner of her mouth drew back in a slight smile. “Yes. It’s a very nice place.” Then, “I thought your friend was coming over.”

  Parker glanced to his left and saw that Colonel Boone had left. Knowing the colonel, he’d seen Stephanie and decided against interrupting. “I’ve got his number.”

  “And I’m sure he has yours.”

  If he had more time—or a lick of sense—he probably could have figured out what she meant by that. So he didn’t know what prompted him to say, “I’m sorry as I can be that you had to see all that. But I meant what I said. It’s water under the bridge.”

  “And you’re well rid of her, if you want my opinion.”

  “And if I don’t? Want your opinion, that is?”

  She grinned good-naturedly. “Guess I had that coming, poking my nose in where it didn’t belong.”

  “Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

  Holly shrugged. “While we’re on the subject of noses and where they do and do not belong, when that check gets here, you’re to keep your nose out of the little black case.”

  And then she winked. Winked! Was she…was she flirting with him?

  “I never would have agreed to a restaurant meal,” she continued, “if I thought for a minute that you intended to pay for it.”

  Parker started to object, but she stopped him with a quiet “Sssst!” Shrugging, he sat back, all set to say fine, he’d pick up the next check. But before he could, the reedy voice of a woman said, “Daniel, look!”

  Parker—and everyone within earshot—looked at the elegantly dressed elderly woman.

  “Take me over there,” she said, pointing at Parker.

  The man pushing her wheelchair bent at the waist. “But, Mom, your book club meets in less than an hour,” he said near her ear. “Wouldn’t want to keep the ladies waiting, now would you?”

  Either she hadn’t heard him or she chose to ignore his reminder. “He looks like you did twenty years ago, Daniel. Exactly like you did.” She kept her dark gaze fixed on Parker. “Now take me over there, so I can ask him if—”

  “Mom, please.” He sent Parker an apologetic smile as they rolled toward the exit. “Let’s just get you home, okay?”

  Once they were out of sight, Holly leaned in to whisper, “You don’t know them?”

  “No.” And yet, there was something about the pair of them… .

  “Well, t
hat’s just plain weird.”

  “What is?”

  “The woman was right. You do favor the man. More than just a little, too, especially around the eyes. I would’ve bet a double wedge of strawberry cheesecake that you were going to say, ‘Hey, there’s my grandma and my cousin.’ ”

  “No,” he repeated. “No relation.”

  “Then I guess you must have reminded her of someone she knows. Or of someone from her past.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Her first love, maybe!” Then she flapped her napkin and daintily draped it over her lap. “But that’s just crazy talk. Brown is the most common eye color on the planet, right?”

  Parker shook his head. “Poor woman. Alzheimer’s, maybe. I sure hope Maude never—”

  “She won’t.”

  He met her gaze. “She won’t?”

  “Nope.”

  Grinning, he said, “You sound awfully sure of yourself.”

  “Not of myself. Of God.”

  “God?”

  “Because I’m going to pray that it never happens to her.”

  “And that’s that.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  She said it so matter-of-factly, he was almost tempted to believe her.

  Almost.

  God had never done much for the Brant family. Why would He start now?

  “So, you were in the army, were you?”

  “Um-hmm,” he said distractedly. Past tense.

  She regarded him from the corners of her eyes. “Something you prefer not to talk about?”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  Holly propped one elbow on the table, then rested her chin in the palm of her hand and leaned closer. In this position, she was close enough to kiss. Not that nonsense again… Parker cleared his throat and made a big deal of positioning his own napkin across one knee.

  “Something tells me you would have been a career soldier, if…”

 

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