“I don’t even know him,” Elaine whispered and for the first time it struck Davis how intimidating his arrival might have been. How intrusive, maybe even scary, his insisting might have seemed.
“Darling, if you drew a circle a thousand miles around Indigo Bay, there wouldn’t be a man I’d trust more than Davis Mills. He’s an honorable man of his word and a true gentleman to his core. You don’t need to know him; I know him enough for both of us. Now”—Caroline flipped a dish towel over her shoulder and headed for the back of the café—“let me get you fed and on your way.”
“I can pay for a cabin for you,” Davis said, fishing his phone from his pocket. “I’ll call Dallas and set it up.” But the phone only rang and rang until Dallas’s voice mail picked up. “He must be sleeping.”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, swallowing so hard her throat bobbed up and down with emotion. “I got myself into this mess. I’m not your responsibility.”
“I highly doubt you got yourself into this mess,” Davis challenged, dancing the line between respecting her privacy and needing to know what could have possibly transpired to make her run so far so fast. No one just got in their car and ran away from their life unless something serious had happened.
“You don’t give me enough credit.” She laughed. “I can screw things up pretty bad. That might be another reason you don’t want to get too mixed up in this.”
“Maybe I should have kept driving tonight when I saw you sitting on that curb,” he said flatly, and he watched her face fall a little before she remembered to look tough. “But then I wouldn’t be sitting here about to eat one of the most delicious desserts this side of the Mason-Dixon line. Silver linings can come in the form of cobbler.”
“The best cobbler in the world might not make up for the trouble that follows me everywhere. I promise I’ll sort this out and be on my way tomorrow. I’ll get the bank to mail me a new credit card. I’ll put more gas in the car and keep driving.”
“You do know if you drive south long enough you run out of road. Unless that car turns into a submarine, you might need a new plan.”
“I’ll figure it out.” She shrugged, her finger tracing nervously along the mosaic tile pattern on the table.
“I don’t know what you’re running from or why you needed to,” Davis said gently, “but what I do know is Indigo Bay is the perfect place to hide out. You’re safe here.”
“All right,” Caroline sang loudly as she balanced two plates on a tray, “sandwiches are the best I can do this time of night. And you know there’s cobbler too so don’t be giving me those eyes, Davis.”
“Yes ma’am,” Davis said, biting his lip and dipping his head apologetically. “I should have known better.”
“I have a pair of sandals here for you . . . What’s your name?”
“Oh gosh,” Davis said, the realization hitting him like a punch in the jaw. “I never asked your name.”
“Elaine,” she whispered as though she was sorry to give up the anonymity. “Thank you so much for the food and the sandals. I’ll get money sorted out in the morning and come back to pay you.”
“No need,” Caroline said, waving the idea off like it was a bothersome fly buzzing by her head. “Davis here will cover you.”
“I will?” Davis asked, furrowing his brows playfully.
“Of course you will because this is the closest thing that resembles a date that you’ve been on in over four years. That means you’ve got plenty of money saved up to spend a little on a pretty girl’s dinner.”
“Four years?” Elaine asked in a hushed voice as Caroline hurried off. “You haven’t been on a date in four years? That’s kind of sad.”
“Remind me to get you some window cleaner,” Davis said, cutting his sandwich in half. “I want to make sure you can see from your glass house when you start throwing rocks at me.”
“Noted,” Elaine said, finally cracking a smile. The dim light of the café barely lit her face, but he could see a spark. Looking past the red rims of her eyes that had been crying too long, he could see the bright ice blue sparkle he’d missed. Her features were delicate, appearing more fragile from the shadow cast from the pain. “I should be the last one judging anyone right now.”
“Are you going to eat?” he asked, gesturing with his chin at her untouched plate of food. “That chicken salad is best in the county. Five years running actually.”
She laughed, looking down at the sandwich as if it were a wild animal about to pounce. “I haven’t had this many calories on my plate since freshmen year of high school. “I almost forget what real mayonnaise tastes like.”
He pushed the plate closer to her. “Heaven,” he said, making a funny face at her. “It tastes like pure heaven.”
Chapter 3
Davis was right. That sandwich was the best thing she’d eaten in a very long time. Lettuce wraps and kale smoothies could not compete with what they’d just been served. She’d have to run a marathon tomorrow to make up for the cobbler, but it was worth it. Now as they were riding in his truck, her head was pressed to the glass of the side window as she stared at the sky. “Still predicting rain?”
“It might rain. Mostly, I was just trying to get you off that curb,” he admitted, his eyes focused intensely on the road. “That hardware store you were loitering in front of belongs to my friends. I didn’t want you scaring off their customers come morning.”
“So you’re a liar?” she challenged, a giggle in her voice. “Miss Caroline said you were the best man around for miles. Maybe she doesn’t know you that well.”
“She knows me plenty.” He shrugged, looking unaffected by her accusation. As a matter of fact, very little seemed to rattle him. “Everyone knows everyone in Indigo Bay. But I practically grew up in her house. Her son Dallas is my best friend. My dad’s in the military. He moved around a lot, and I stayed behind. She and Dallas are family to me.”
“That’s nice,” she breathed out, watching the sleepy town blow by in her peripheral vision. “No one has probably noticed I’m gone yet.”
“You don’t have anyone in New York?” he asked, seeming to force himself not to look over at her. “No family?”
“No,” she said just above a whisper. “My family moved to Europe when I was nineteen. My dad is a businessman, and he got in some trouble. Moving was the way out for him.”
“You didn’t go?”
“I was in college. I had my whole life planned. Letting his mistakes take that plan from me was not going to happen.” It seemed silly now. Her dreams hadn’t panned out at all. Maybe drinking wine and eating pasta in Italy with her parents would have been the right choice.
“What do you do for a living?” he probed as he turned down a quiet sand-covered road that looked more beach than street.
“I don’t want to talk about that.” Her reply was curt. “It’s not important. I don’t have that job anymore. I’m going to have a new job tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” he asked, sounding unconvinced. “I thought you were getting the car fueled up and driving.”
“I changed my mind. You were right. I’ll eventually run out of road anyway. If Indigo Bay is so safe, maybe I should just stay. There must be jobs here. I can do anything. I’m a hard worker. I always have been. Is anyone hiring that you know of?”
“You’re going to get a job in Indigo Bay? I don’t think there is anything here for you.” His laugh was too condescending for her to ignore.
“What’s that’s supposed to mean? You don’t think I’m employable?”
“Your outfit is more expensive than a month’s pay for any jobs here. Indigo Bay isn’t exactly going to be your speed. I’m sure you’ll wake up refreshed tomorrow and decide New York is the place you belong.”
“You think all I care about is money?” she asked, as he parked the truck in front of a shockingly bright purple cabin. “That I’m some snobby brat from New York who doesn’t belong in your idyllic little beach town?”
“That
’s not what I meant,” he said, tossing his arms up in exasperation. “I just meant—”
“I want to walk the beach,” she explained, slamming the door and charging over the dune toward the ocean. It wasn’t because Davis was wrong, it was more likely he was right, and she’d fail here too. Some nights you weren’t looking for reality. You weren’t looking for the truth.
“Wait,” he called from behind her, but she didn’t slow down. “Hold up for a second. It’s dark. It’s late. Those dunes are steep. Just get some sleep and forget what I said.”
“I’m fine,” she yelled back at him as she picked up her pace toward the crashing waves. The sand on the dunes began to give way and she landed on her butt, sliding the rest of the way down.
“See,” he shouted. “You’re going to break your neck. Just come in the house. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“I can sleep in the sand. I want to be alone. Please, forget you invited me in. I appreciate that you’re being nice, but I don’t deserve it any more than I want it. It’s a beautiful night; let me crash here.”
“Fine,” he yelled back, a bite of annoyance finally filling his voice. She’d wondered when he would tire of this nonsense, and now she had her answer. “Sleep on the beach. I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to. Just don’t be pissed at me when—”
“When what?” she asked, tossing her arms up in the air as the tears started to fall. “What could possibly be worse than what’s already happened? At least I’m under the stars. At least I can hear the waves. What could be worse than the mess I’m in?”
“I have no idea because I don’t know what happened to make you run away in the first place? Did your trust fund dip under a million dollars? Did you not get your participation trophy? Maybe you failed at something, and it feels like the end of the world when really it’s probably no big deal at all.” He was shouting now, throwing his hands up as he spoke from the top of the dunes. “I’m sorry your temper tantrum took you so far from home.”
“You don’t know anything, Davis.” Tears soaked her cheeks. “If you did,” she sputtered, “you’d be damn sorry right now. Just leave me alone. Please.”
“Elaine,” he said, forcing control into his words, “I’m tired. It’s been a long weird day, and I think you should come in and go to sleep. You can be pissed at me in there.”
“I’m sleeping here,” she said, flopping onto the sand and pulling her knees to her chest, trying to shrink herself down to nothing.
“Your choice,” Davis grunted, heading back toward the purple cottage. “In the morning I’ll have Miss Caroline send someone for you. Put some gas in your car and keep driving.”
“Fine,” she yelled, resting her chin on her knees and blinking the tears away. A moment later she heard a squeaky door pulled open and then slammed shut. Lights in the cabin came on and some random banging could be heard between the crashing of the waves. Sleeping on the beach would be just what she needed. The sand was soft. The waves were there to lull her to sleep and . . .
A crack of thunder shook her ribcage and a shock of lightning made her heart skip a beat. The sky came alive with silver drops of rain as though a faucet had suddenly been turned on. “No,” she said, closing her eyes and letting the rain hit the back of her neck as she dipped her head low in defeat. Her clothes were soaked through in seconds. Her hair matted to her face. “I can’t,” she choked out. “I can’t deal with this.”
“You can,” a voice said from behind her. “Come on.” Davis reached his hand down but she refused to take it. This guy had been a perfect gentlemen, and she’d done nothing but make the situation worse again and again.
“I’m a mess,” she stammered. “I can’t do this, Davis.”
He dropped to his knees in the sand next to her. She saw his shirt was soaked through as she blinked away the rain. She opened her mouth to protest, but he reached over and looped her arm around his neck. Scooping her up from behind her knees, he lifted her effortlessly and stood up. Carrying her through the sand and up the dunes, he never grimaced with effort. She knew she should apologize. Protest. Insist she could walk. But she wasn’t sure she could. Instead Elaine rested her head on his soaked shirt and sobbed as he used his foot to push open the cottage door.
“It’s all right,” he said, sitting on the couch, keeping her in his lap. “You’re all right.”
“I can’t breathe,” she gasped.
“You can,” he said, calmly. “You have to. Because I don’t know CPR, and if you die here I’ll never be able to sell this place. Once people know a girl died here the selling price tanks. Ghosts are a real concern for homebuyers.”
She hiccupped out a laugh and fought to fill her lungs with air. “I’m all right. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for all of this,” she whispered against the soft skin of his neck.
“Don’t be,” he said, clearing his throat and shifting her to the couch as he stood abruptly. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you. I don’t know your story. It’s been a long day. There’s a room at the end of the hall. There’s plenty of clothes back there that should fit you.”
“Umm,” she said, leaning so she could see down the hallway. “There are?”
“My room’s upstairs. If you need anything, just knock.” He shuffled out of the room, his eyes never hitting hers again. A door closed abruptly, and the house fell perfectly silent.
Lightning and a crack of thunder struck all at once and Elaine’s hand flew to her heart, fluttering with nerves. She’d been so busy shredding her life to pieces that she’d somehow missed the perfect horror movie scenario she’d walked into. A strange man who turned up out of nowhere. A thunderstorm. And a mysterious bedroom full of women’s clothes.
The only silver lining: if she was going to die tonight at least she’d gotten that cobbler.
Chapter 4
Davis stared up at the ceiling as ribbons of sunlight cut through his blinds and fought to light his tiny room. Damn that beautiful woman. Damn her tears. Damn the rain. He’d had years perfecting the art of being alone. He’d learned exactly how many times you had to break plans before the invitations stopped coming. He could dodge the prospect of a blind date like a pro. But tonight he blew it. The second he pulled Elaine into his arms he knew something had shifted. A door he’d locked and barricaded years ago had been kicked wide open, and Elaine was walking right in.
His best bet this morning would be a well drafted note pinned to the fridge and a quick exit before she woke up. But first he’d need a shower because he’d be useless all day if the smell of her shampoo wasn’t washed off his neck.
Elaine had such a rough night he thought she’d be sleeping in. So after his shower he hustled down the stairs and searched his desk for a piece of paper to leave her a note.
“You have no food here.” Her tiny voice filled his ears, and he spun around too quickly, trying unsuccessfully to look natural. “Sorry, did I scare you?” she asked, looking apologetic.
“No,” he lied. “I just figured you’d be sleeping in. Sorry though, you’re right, I don’t have any food.”
“What do you eat usually?” she asked, and he noticed a fidgetiness to her this morning. She’d gotten herself ready and looked far more put together, but something was still off.
“I grab coffee at Caroline’s before I start work. I never order it, but she always puts a muffin or something in a bag for me. It’s been going on that way for years.”
“What do you do for work?”
“I’m a boat mechanic,” Davis answered, making his way to the kitchen as she followed behind, clearing her throat nervously. “Do you have a lot more questions for me because, even though I might have seemed like it last night, I’m not really a chatty guy? Especially in the morning.”
“Just one question,” she said, backing up a few steps and nibbling on her lip nervously. “Whose clothes are these, and why do you have them?” She held the hem of the soft pink and blue plaid button-up shirt away from her skin a
s if it might be toxic. “Dead wife killed tragically and your broken heart hasn’t allowed you to part with her things? Maybe it belongs to victims of your homicidal rampages as a serial killer?”
“I’m a little bothered that you put the clothes on while thinking those things might be possibilities.” He tucked his wallet into his pocket and grabbed his keys from the hook. Everything was exactly where he left it the night before. Just like always.
“In my defense”—she grinned widely—“this is really soft cotton.” She ran her hand over the sleeve of the shirt and shrugged. “Whoever your murder victims were, they had wonderful taste.”
“Those are my sister’s things. She left them behind when she moved to Portland. I talked to her yesterday morning, and she was alive and well.”
“Maybe she wouldn’t want me wearing her stuff. She could want it back.” The humor left Elaine’s eyes and worry returned.
“Those were the clothes she wore four babies ago. I’m pretty sure when I offered to send them to her she told me to burn anything under a size six. You’re welcome to whatever’s in there.”
“I won’t need much else past today. I have a plan. A thirty-day plan.” She seemed to have calmed a bit, finding out she wasn’t wearing the cast-off clothes of dead people.
“Thirty days?” He snickered. “I can’t figure out if you’re spontaneous or a planner.”
“Usually I plan,” she replied brightly, looking ready to give a presentation. “I’ve had a ten-year plan since I was ten years old. I’m taking a break from that. I did a lot of logistical thinking this morning. Realistically my bank is not going to send me new credit cards if I can’t prove I am who I am, or where I am. My purse is locked up in my office at work in New York.”
“Why not have someone ship it to you?” Davis asked, still trying to piece everything together. What makes a woman like this run away with nothing and no plan?
Sweet Rendezvous Page 2
