Suddenly One Summer

by Barbara Freethy

  Seeing Andrew again had brought back a lot of memories, both good and bad, and she didn’t particularly want to remember that time in her life. She’d moved on, and she was terribly afraid that Andrew would ask her questions she didn’t want to answer. Mostly she was afraid that she’d start to feel something again for him, and that was the last thing she wanted.

  She pedaled harder, her lungs straining as she reached the top of the last hill. She turned down the street, her pulse slowing as the street leveled out. She knew her mother would try to push her and Andrew together. She had already seen the wheels spinning in her mother’s head at the thought of a potential marriage between her daughter and the new minister—as if history would repeat itself, that she would lead her mother’s life. That was not going to happen. She didn’t want that life for herself, nor did she want to be Andrew’s wife anymore. Too much water under that bridge.

  Pushing Andrew out of her head, she tried to appreciate the ride. Now that she was back, she was beginning to realize how much she’d missed this town: the crisp, clean air, the ocean views from just about every part of town, the smell of the sea, the sense of community. Like it or not, she was a local girl and always would be.

  She was almost to the end of the street when a pickup truck passed her and turned into the driveway of the last house. She recognized Joe Silveira as soon as he got out of the truck. He wore faded jeans and a long-sleeve rugby shirt. Her stomach did a little flip. She was considering a quick U-turn, but she was too late. He saw her and waved.

  She coasted down the street and stopped her bike in front of him. “Hi, Chief.”

  “Dr. Adams,” he said with a smile. “I usually see you jogging. I didn’t know you were a biker.”

  “I needed some hill work.” She felt a little dazzled by his warm gaze. He had the darkest, sexiest eyes.

  “I’m impressed. I get tired just driving up that hill.”

  “You must do more than drive. You’re in good shape.” She bit down on her lip. Great, give away the fact that she’d been checking out his body. That was completely inappropriate.

  Joe didn’t seem to mind. His smile broadened. “Thanks. So are you.”

  She cleared her throat, feeling a desperate need to change the subject. There was something about Joe Silveira that always made her feel off balance. She was also wishing that she’d put on some lip gloss, maybe some blush, but instead she was sweaty, and heaven knew what her hair looked like sticking out from under her bike helmet, which she always wore since she’d done a stint in the ER.

  “I brought Annie home with me—to my mother’s house, that is,” she said, uncomfortable with the silence between them. “She’s going to stay there for a week or two until we can find a more permanent solution.”

  A gleam of surprise entered his eyes. “That’s very generous of you and your mother.”

  “Annie is alone and in trouble. She needs help. I couldn’t look the other way.”

  “A lot of people could.”

  She knew he was right; she’d met many cold, impersonal, burned-out health-care workers in the past. But she hoped never to become someone who didn’t give a damn. “As my mother would tell you, I’ve always had the bad habit of wanting to take home strays. After two dogs and four cats, my mother put her foot down and insisted that I find other homes for the animals. I was a little surprised she agreed to let Annie stay there, but I took her up on it before she had a chance to change her mind.”

  “If I can help, let me know.”

  “I’ll do that. So are you going to the bonfire tonight?”

  “I’ll be on duty later. What about you?”

  “I’m not sure if I’ll go.” She shrugged. “I’ve seen it all before.”

  “I bet you have, but not for a while. Things change.”

  “Not in Angel’s Bay,” she said with a laugh. “I went into Dina’s Café to grab a cup of coffee, and I swear that Rudy and Will were having the same argument about who caught the biggest fish that they’ve had every year of their lives.”

  “And I understand they’re both terrible fishermen,” Joe said with a grin. “So, how much farther are you riding today?”

  “This was my last hill. I’m looking forward to going down on the way back.”

  “Sounds like a good time for a drink. Do you want to come in? You look thirsty.”

  “Well…” She hesitated, knowing that the right answer was no, but heard herself say, “Thanks, that would be nice.”

  She walked her bike to Joe’s front door and leaned it against his porch railing, then took off her bike helmet and shook out her hair. It fell in tangles about her shoulders.

  Joe opened the front door and a barking golden retriever raced out, jumping first on Joe, then on Charlotte.

  “Rufus, down,” Joe ordered, but the dog seemed far more interested in licking Charlotte’s face with absolute joy and excitement.

  “You’re a honey,” she said, leaning over to scratch the dog’s head.

  “Sorry,” Joe said, grabbing Rufus by the collar.

  “Don’t be. I love dogs. Where did you get him?”

  “He came with the house. Rufus was my uncle’s dog. The neighbors had him after my uncle died, and I didn’t even know about him until two weeks ago, when he dug his way under the fence and came over. Since then he hasn’t been inclined to leave. The neighbors are older and apparently quite happy that Rufus decided to move out, because the next thing I knew, there was a big bag of dog food on my porch.”

  “You don’t look too unhappy about it,” Charlotte commented. It was nice to see Joe relaxed and carefree. In the past, she’d only seen him on duty.

  “I always wanted a dog when I was a kid, but my mother said she had enough to do raising six children. When Rufus came over, I couldn’t send him back. I figured this was really more his home than mine.”

  “I understand.”

  “You would,” he said, meeting her gaze. “Come on inside.”

  Charlotte entered the house, curious to see where Joe lived. The home was older, with probably two or three bedrooms. The living and dining rooms had hardwood floors and were sparsely furnished. From the living room, sliding glass doors opened onto a redwood deck.

  “Water? Iced tea? Soda? Beer?” Joe asked. “What’s your pleasure?”

  “I should say water, but to tell you the truth, I’d love a cold beer.”

  “A woman after my own heart,” he said with a grin. “Glass or bottle?”

  “Bottle is great.”

  “I’ll be right back. Just shove Rufus away if he gets too friendly.” He let go of the dog’s collar, but instead of running toward Charlotte, the dog followed Joe into the kitchen.

  While Joe was getting the beers, Charlotte opened the sliding glass door and stepped out onto the deck. The view was incredible. She could see Ocean Avenue, the wharf area, and the wide blue ocean. There was no hint of fog on the horizon, just a few wispy white clouds in the summer sky.

  Joe came out a moment later and handed her a beer. She took a swig, enjoying the cool slide of the liquid down her throat. Then she waved her hand at the view. “This is—wow.”

  “I know. I walked into this house, onto this deck, and I didn’t want to leave.” He set his beer down on the railing. “My uncle left me this place in his will, maybe because I was the only one of his nieces and nephews who came up here and went fishing with him. I think I was twelve at the time, and my mother was trying to get me out of the house for the summer. Uncle Carlos was a fishing fanatic. We spent three days on the water and caught more fish than I could count. I guess he figured I would appreciate the house and the town.

  “Originally I came up here to put the house up for sale, but once I saw it, I knew I couldn’t sell it. Suddenly I found myself walking into the police station, asking if they had any openings. Chief Robinson was just about to retire, so I was in the right place at the right time.”

  “To get the top job, you must have had some impressive credentials
.”

  He leaned his forearms on the rail, looking out at the view. “I spent twelve years in the LAPD. I started there when I was twenty-three years old, right after I got out of the academy. I worked patrol, gangs, vice. I saw it all.”

  Judging by his tone, a lot of what he’d seen had been bad. “Angel’s Bay must seem a little boring after Los Angeles,” she ventured.

  “No, it’s perfect.” He turned to look at her. “I was ready to leave L.A. In fact, I had quit my job the month before I got this house. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with my life; I just knew that things had to change. I was turning into someone I didn’t recognize. I had to get out.”

  “Did something in particular happen?” He didn’t answer right away, and she felt certain she’d over-stepped her bounds. “It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  Joe sighed. “I was arresting someone and he attacked me. I fought back. He was a sick bastard, and I wanted to kill him for what he’d done. My partner pulled me off. If he hadn’t, I don’t know how far I would have gone. I turned in my resignation the next day, thinking I would never be a cop again. But the weeks passed and my head began to clear. When I came to Angel’s Bay, it was like the light inside of me went back on. I like it here. There isn’t much crime, and what there is I enjoy handling. I loved being a cop; I just needed to be a cop somewhere away from L.A. The people here are mostly good and they care about each other.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, you asked?”

  She was thrilled she’d asked and more than a little pleased that he’d confided in her. “No, I understand where you’re coming from. Working in the medical center here allows me to get to know my patients, to be a part of a community, and I like that.”

  “I thought you weren’t sure you were going to stay,” he said with a quirk of his eyebrow. “Sounds like you’re enjoying your job.”

  “I do like my job. I love a lot of things about this town, but my mother and I have a complicated relationship, and there are some parts of my past I’d like to forget. Since my past is here, that’s not easy to do.”

  “You can’t escape your past no matter where you go,” Joe said. “Maybe it’s time to stop running away and just face it.”

  “Says the man who just admitted to running away,” she pointed out.

  He inclined his head. “True, but I wasn’t running away from the past. More like running away from a future of more of the same.”

  “Well, right now I’m just trying to help my mother deal with her life and my father’s death.” Charlotte paused, wanting to change the subject. “What was your uncle’s name? I wonder if I knew him, if he came to our church.”

  “His name was Carlos Ramirez. He was my mother’s brother. He believed that he was descended from a man named Juan Carlos Ramirez, who was allegedly on the ship when it went down a couple hundred years ago.”

  “That’s interesting.”

  He shrugged. “What about you? No connections to the wreck?”

  “No. My parents came here when my father was assigned to the church. They both grew up in San Diego and most of our relatives are still there. I thought my mother might consider moving back, but this town is her life. My father is buried in the cemetery here, so I suspect she’ll stay forever.” She took another long drink. “Do you really think this town will be enough for you long term? I can see needing a change, but permanently?”

  He shot her a quick look. “You sound like my wife.”

  His wife—right. She’d almost forgotten.

  “Rachel is convinced I will be bored in six months,” Joe continued, “and that I’ll want to return to L.A., but she’s wrong. I feel at home here. This is a place I was looking for, only I didn’t know I was looking until I got here—if that makes sense.”

  “You didn’t know what you were missing until you found it. I get it.”

  “Yes,” he said softly, his gaze on her face. “It’s funny how you can think you have everything you ever wanted, only to find out you don’t.”

  She had no idea what he was talking about now. She was far too distracted by the way he was looking at her, and far too aware of how close he was and how alone they were.

  Then a door inside the house slammed, followed by a female voice. “Joe,” the woman called. “Where are you?” A moment later she stepped out on the deck.

  The woman was beautiful, with black hair, pale skin, dark eyes, and she was very, very thin. She looked like a very sophisticated model, dressed in a short black dress, her feet encased in stiletto heels. She frowned when she saw Charlotte.

  “Rachel,” Joe said. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

  “I can see that,” she said sharply. “Are you going to introduce me to your—friend?”

  “This is Charlotte Adams, Dr. Adams,” he amended, clearing his throat. “This is my wife, Rachel.”

  “It’s so nice to meet you.” Charlotte extended her hand. Rachel gave it a brief shake, her expression cool.

  “I thought you couldn’t get away this weekend, Rachel,” Joe said.

  “It seemed important to you that I did,” she replied. “But it looks like you’re doing just fine without me.”

  “No, I’m not.” Joe gave his wife a pointed look. “Charlotte just happened by. She was taking a bike ride, and we ran into each other.”

  “That’s right, and I should be going. Thanks for the beer, and for your advice about Annie,” Charlotte said, wanting to give him an excuse, since his wife was obviously upset about her presence.

  “I’ll walk you out,” Joe offered.

  “It’s okay. I can find my way. I hope to see you again, Mrs. Silveira,” she said. “Good-bye, Chief.”

  She moved quickly through the house, grabbed her helmet and bike, and headed down the street. She had a feeling Joe was going to be on the hot seat. Maybe he deserved to be, for looking at her the way he had. It was a good thing Rachel had come home. Joe was married, and she needed to remember that. Maybe he did, too.

  FOURTEEN

  “Nothing is going on,” Joe told Rachel. Her eyes were smoking, and he felt absurdly pleased that she was jealous. He hadn’t gotten such a strong reaction out of her in a long time.

  “You’re alone in the house with an attractive woman. That’s not nothing.”

  “Charlotte is a doctor. She’s treating a young woman who tried to commit suicide the other night. We’re barely more than acquaintances.”

  “You looked like a lot more than acquaintances when I walked in.”

  “Come here,” he said, holding out his hand.

  Rachel ignored him, crossing her arms in front of her chest, and tapping her foot on the ground. “I should have stayed in L.A.”

  “Don’t be like that. I’m glad you’re here. Actually, I’m thrilled you’re here,” he amended. Now he had a chance to show her Angel’s Bay at its best. The festival was in full swing; the town was hopping. It wouldn’t look like the sleepy backwater she had in her head.

  Since Rachel seemed to have no intention of moving, he walked over to her and put his arms around her, pulling her into his embrace. She smelled like Chanel, and for some reason the expensive scent bothered him. He shrugged it off. After a moment Rachel slid her arms around his waist and lifted her head to look at him.

  “Did you really miss me?” she asked.

  “A lot. I’m glad you came. What changed your mind?”

  “You.” She gazed at him with confusion in her eyes. “I don’t know what to do about us, but I know we need to spend some time together to figure it out. So here I am.”

  “Here you are,” he echoed, kissing her on the mouth.

  She pulled away after one kiss. “Do you want to grab my suitcase for me? I have to make a call. I had to get a replacement for my open house tomorrow, and I want to make sure it’s all set. I tried to call from the car, but I couldn’t get reception.”

  “No problem.”

  Before he could move, Rufus came bounding out, and with hi
s usual exuberance pounced on Rachel.

  She gave a startled yelp, knocked Rufus sideways with her flailing arm and dropped her phone. Joe watched in dismay as her cell phone went skidding off the deck.

  “Goddammit,” she yelled as she ran to the rail.

  He followed more slowly, knowing that it was doubtful her phone would survive the twenty-foot drop down a rocky hillside.

  “I need my phone.” Anger blazed in her eyes as she turned to look at him. “My life is on that phone. Where the hell did this dog come from?”

  Rufus laid down at her feet, hanging his head at her tone.

  “He’s Uncle Carlos’s dog.”

  “He wasn’t here before.”

  “The neighbors were taking care of him, but they aren’t anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  He cleared his throat, dreading the reaction he knew was coming. “Because I am.”

  “No. No way. We are not taking care of a dog.”

  “This was his home for the last seven years. He dug a hole under the fence to get back here. He’s a good dog. Very friendly. You’ll like him when you get to know him.”

  “I don’t want to get to know him. I’m not an animal person.”

  “I’ll take care of him. He won’t bother you.”

  “He already cost me my phone.”

  “He was happy to see you. As happy as I am to see you.”

  Rachel frowned. “Don’t try to be all sweet to me, Joe. You’re not keeping that dog.”

  “Let’s talk about it later. You know what you need? A glass of wine. You can change your clothes, get comfortable, and we’ll watch the sun set. I don’t have to go on duty until eight.”

  “You’re working tonight?”

  “The festival is on; it’s a busy night. There’s a big bonfire on the beach and fireworks. It will be fun. I’ll introduce you to some people.”

  Rachel gave him an uncertain look, and for a moment he had the feeling she might head straight to her car and drive back to Los Angeles. He couldn’t let her do that.

  “Just give it a chance, Rachel. You’ve only spent a couple of weekends here, and you’ve never really met anyone.”