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The Write Man

Page 12

by Lisa Ricard Claro


  A breeze took Merry’s hair, and she tucked the billowing strands behind her ears and looked back at Nick. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You’re off the hook. I’m standing here looking at you, and I’m not even mad. Not at you. You only did what people always do. It’s my own fault for being so—so quick to trust. You know me, Merry-freaking-Sunjoy, always seeing the bright side, looking for that silver lining. But I’ve learned my lesson. It’s taken a long time, but finally—finally—I know how ridiculous I was—am.” She emitted a harsh laugh. “So thanks, Nick, for making sure my head is out of the clouds and my feet are securely on the ground.”

  “Hold up a minute.” Nick caught her arm when she began walking again, and this time he didn’t let go. “What the hell are you talking about? You read between the lines, got the message and came down here, but now you’re cutting me off without even having a real conversation? Why did you bother coming if you had no intention of even giving me a chance? And if by ‘did what people always do’ you mean ‘open a vein’ or ‘spill their guts’ then you’re right. I did do that, and in a very public way so you wouldn’t doubt my sincerity. Damn it, Merry, give me a chance here.”

  “I did give you a chance. It was your words that got me to come back, and it was your words that made sure I wouldn’t stay.”

  Nick held her with the intensity of his stare. “What words? This is the first time we’ve spoken in weeks.”

  “You should know by now that when you put things in writing they don’t stay secret. And let go of my arm.” She yanked herself free of his grasp. “As you wish must have looked real pretty when you typed it on your keyboard—and damn you for using that, of all things, even though you know what it means to me. But I know you’re already seeing someone else.”

  Nick’s look of surprise was so genuine Merry might have believed it if she hadn’t read his note at the villa.

  “What? I’m not seeing anyone.”

  “What about your date today? I don’t know if you’ve already had it, or if it’s upcoming, but I know about it.”

  “What are you talking about?” Nick stared at her, clearly at sea.

  “You posted a note on the villa door.”

  Nick nodded. “Yes, to Poppy Washington. She offered to bring me another batch of her jerked chicken. I knew I wouldn’t be there, so I gave her permission to go in.”

  “You also mentioned having a date. A date with the same lovely lady Poppy had met at the villa earlier in the week.”

  Nick continued to stare at Merry, but his expression of confusion shifted. His eyes lit and he tamped down a smile.

  “I don’t see what’s funny.” Merry crossed her arms over her chest, annoyed with the heat rising into her face.

  Nick’s smile opened up, full blown. He looked across the pond to where Ruth sat petting Chula. Merry followed his gaze.

  “Yes, you are correct, Ms. Sunjoy. I did invite a lovely lady to the villa earlier in the week. I had lunch with that same lady again today. She’s a delightful companion, is cheaper than any therapist, and gives good advice to the lovelorn.” He waved at Ruth, and Ruth waved back. Nick looked back at Merry and leaned forward until their noses were almost touching and Merry could see the flecks of green and gold scattered in his eyes. “I’m the lovelorn, in case you didn’t know.”

  “I—I—oh.” Merry looked at Ruth and then back at Nick. Understanding poured over her like warm water. “Ruth. You were talking about—about Ruth.” Embarrassment coursed through her. “I thought—I assumed—”

  Nick’s eyes held Merry captive.

  “There is no one else in my life, Merry. Only you. I had the Scurvy Rickets contract changed for you. I posted the apology for you. I’ve been hoping and waiting for you. Everything has been for you. Only you.”

  “I—I saw the note and it sounded as if—I mean, I thought—I was so sure that you—but I shouldn’t have—assumed—I shouldn’t have—” She swallowed hard. “Please shut me up.”

  Nick took her face in his hands. “As you wish,” he said and touched his lips to hers, a soft whisper. “As you wish,” he murmured, and brushed her lips again. “As you wish,” he repeated, now kissing the spot on her cheek where her dimple appeared. “As you wish.” His lips moved feather-light over her cheekbones, her eyes, forehead, nose, against her ear. “Forever, Merry, as you wish,” he whispered before returning to her mouth.

  Merry trembled and curled her hands in Nick’s hair when he deepened the kiss. Their lips smiled against each other when a happy “Hooray!” and clapping sounded from Ruth’s side of the pond.

  “I have a confession,” Merry said when she caught her breath.

  “Okay.” Nick rested his forehead against hers.

  “I lied to you.”

  “What, you? Merry Sunjoy? I don’t believe it.”

  Merry nodded. “I told you my head was out of the clouds and my feet were on the ground, but that’s a lie. The truth is, I’m floating on air right now, and I don’t want this to end.”

  Nick drew her closer. “As you wish,” he promised again, and lowered his mouth to hers.

  Epilogue

  The full moon dappled the Gulf waters as it played hide and seek with clouds, its glow sharing a soft spread of light wherever it appeared. Behind them, sand stretched to a thick border of beach grass ruffling in the wind. A weathered pathway split the grass, and beyond that stood a modest cottage, its porch dimly lit by strings of fairy lights. The sound of wind chimes carried, somehow restless and peaceful at the same time.

  “Moondrops,” Merry said, and leaned back against Nick. He stood behind her, and his arms held her close as they stared out at the water and gently foaming surf, eerie in the alternating darkness and pale light. Merry shivered against Nick’s warmth, and he tightened his hold.

  “They’ll disappear again in a minute,” he said, his cheek resting against her head. “As soon as the clouds move past.” His warm breath brushed her temple, and Merry smiled.

  “I got a couple of phone calls today while you were busy setting up appointments for quotes on windows.”

  “It’s going to be pricey for hurricane impact windows. I wish that was something we’d thought about before buying the house, but it never occurred to me. The place has hurricane shutters, so I figured that would be enough.”

  “It’s been enough for this house in all the years since it was built,” Merry said, turning in his arms and tilting her head to look up at him. “You only want the hurricane impact windows because of the baby.”

  Nick grinned and leaned away from her to rub her round belly. “I’ll feel better with the impact glass. So, tell me about these calls.”

  “Well, the first was from Holly. She said baby Matthew slept through the night last night. No more croup. And Ben got a few extra days off, so they’re coming down for a long weekend at Easter.”

  “Good news. What was the second call about?”

  “Phoebe called. The Golden-Eyed Creature is up for the Newsome,” she said, referring to her latest Foundling Faeries book.

  Nick’s brows shot up. He let out a whoop and lifted Merry off her feet. “That’s fantastic!” he said, and she squealed and laughed as he spun her around.

  “Guess all I needed was the right inspiration.” Merry hugged Nick as he set her back on the sand. “There’s more. Moondrops has an offer,” she said, referring to the children’s book she and Nick had written together. “I knew if we held out we’d pick up the right publisher. Before you start asking questions, Phoebe sent a copy of the contract which I printed. We can look it over when we go back inside, but I know you’ll be pleased.”

  “How did you keep all this great news to yourself all afternoon?”

  “It wasn’t easy, but I was hoping for moondrops on the Gulf tonight, because it would be symbolic. But we’ve got more raindrops than moondrops right now.” She looked skyward and a fat drop splattered against her cheek. Chula, who had been sitting beside them, stood, shook herself off, and trotted
across the wooden pathway toward home. She was visible a few moments later standing on the porch by the door. “I guess it’s time to go in,” Merry said.

  “Or,” Nick took one of Merry’s hands in his and held it against his heart. He splayed his other hand against her back. “We could dance in the rain.”

  “A silver lining. I like it,” Merry said, and rested her cheek against Nick’s chest.

  Nick drew her closer and continued their slow dance even as the rain picked up, wetting them as it pattered the sandy world with a gentle tattoo. Chula’s impatient woof sounded from across the distance. She gave up a few moments later and sprawled on the porch in front of the door. Merry smiled, feeling safe, cherished, and overwhelmed with love.

  “Rain or no rain, I could hold you like this forever,” Nick murmured.

  “As you wish,” Merry said, smiling up at him. “Forever, as you wish.”

  THE END

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  THE WRITE MAN

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  About the Author

  Lisa Ricard Claro is an award-winning author with published novels, articles, essays, and short stories spanning multiple media.

  An Atlanta resident for decades, Lisa yearned for the beach. She collected sand dollars and seashells in anticipation of the day her inner mermaid would rise and declare, “Enough already. For the love of Poseidon, woman, get thee to the saltwater and sand!"

  Heeding her inner mermaid, Lisa now resides on Florida’s gorgeous Gulf coast. She shares her life with an indulgent husband, two cheerful dogs, and an affectionate-to-the-point-of-madness cat. Lisa is mother to three—a handsome son and two beautiful daughters—and is waiting for the day she can add ‘adorable grandchildren’ to her bio. (No pressure kids, no pressure.)

  Lisa has a heart for rescued pets, and you’ll find one in all of her books. Sometimes their rescue is part of the story, as with Pirate the dog in Love Built to Last, and sometimes they’re already ensconced in their forever home like Pavarotti the cat, in Love to Win. As you read Lisa’s novels, watch for the rescues.

  A fan of every genre, Romance is one of Lisa’s favorites because she believes in love and happily-ever-after. She’s a Mystery buff too, and a whodunit is coming soon. But no matter the genre, Lisa’s books are written from her heart with inspiration from mermaid wishes, starfish kisses, and silky sand between her toes. (Okay, okay—and maybe the occasional margarita or daiquiri. Mermaids love that stuff!)

 

 

 


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