The Queensbay Series: Books 1-4: The Queensbay Box Set

by Drea Stein

  “Well, I am sure you’ve earned it. Sounds like you were working hard. But I must say, you’re looking good.” Jake smiled down at her as his eyes ran up and down her, his gaze appreciative.

  “Too bad you already had your chance,” she said with a grin as she started to walk. “And you’re never going to let me live that down?” Jake sighed as he fell into step beside her.

  “Nope,” Darby said and then added, “but you might be able to make it up to me. At least a little bit.”

  “So you’ll finally let me take you to dinner?” he offered, his voice hopeful.

  Darby shook her head. She had known Jake since forever. Their parents were good friends with each other and they’d been thrown together at countless family gatherings.

  He was a few years older and had been the quarterback of the football team. They’d been completely different from each other but once they found a shared passion for superhero movies, they’d been able to get along just fine.

  It probably hadn’t hurt that Darby had helped to tutor Jake through a rough patch in math, thereby keeping him on the football team his senior year. He’d graduated, gone to play football in college, but after a knee injury he’d come back home to help in the family construction business. Luckily his business skills outlasted his football career and the company had grown significantly in the past few years.

  Jake was a good-looking man, Darby thought a bit wistfully. Running his own construction business had helped him keep his high school physique. Her mom was constantly talking about what a “good catch” he was, dropping hints so obvious that Darby had actually started to avoid any sort of family event if she knew Jake would be there. All she felt toward him was the kind of affection you’d feel toward a big bother. It was just that right now she could use some brotherly help.

  “I was thinking I could use a little bit of your construction skills.” Quickly Darby sketched out what she was thinking. After she was done, Jake just stood looking at her with an open mouth.

  “Are you out of your mind? Your dad is going to flip.”

  “It’s just some new paint.” Darby said defensively. Maybe she’d been wrong to trust Jake with her plan. “But fine, if you don’t want to help me.” She started to walk away.

  “Whoa there. I didn’t say that. It’s just, well, you know your dad doesn’t like change,” Jake said.

  Darby turned to look at him. “Did you know he’s thinking of selling The Dory to Quentin Tate?”

  Jake nodded. “My dad might have mentioned it.”

  “The Dory is a family business. And I just need to show my dad how special it can be again. Look, if you don’t have the time to help me, I am sure I can find someone else to . . . .”

  Jake laughed. “Nice try, Darb, but no way you’re going solo on this. Not when I still owe you.”

  “Thanks Jake,” Darby said, sincerity filling her voice.

  “Can I get a dinner out of it?” Jake asked hopefully.

  Darby shook her head, “Sorry, Jake, I think I might be seeing someone.”

  Jake sighed. “You and Sean Callahan. Half the village thinks they saw him kissing you out in the middle of the street.”

  “It wasn’t quite the middle of the street,” Darby said, since it had been the middle of The Dory.

  “Well, whatever. Guess I’m too late again,” Jake said, trying for a hangdog look.

  Darby shook her head. “You’ve been too late for years. Besides, you know it would make our parents too happy if we got together.”

  Jake shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m still paying for one little mistake.”

  “Ha, little mistake my ass,” Darby said, feeling elated that Jake had agreed to help her.

  Jake stopped her. “There is one little thing . . . . You know everything in this town needs to get approval from the commission.”

  Darby nodded. She had already checked the rules. “We’re allowed to have the few tables out front, so while the work is going on inside the building, I’ll just serve from out there. We’ll have to do mostly takeout, but I think I can make it work, since it should only be for a few days.”

  Jake nodded. “Ok, so you got that covered, but what about that old w . . . I mean, Mrs. Sampson. You know she likes to have the final say over everything.”

  “Just leave her to me,” Darby said confidently.

  Chapter 20

  “We’re going in those?” Sean looked at the two brightly colored watercraft bobbing on the water below them.

  “Yes, do you have a problem with that?” Darby asked, her voice full of innocence but with a roguish sparkle in her eyes.

  “No,” he said, trying to think fast. When Darby had said that they were going on a boat, he had envisioned something entirely different than these two slim, insubstantial things that were riding on the blue-green water of Queensbay Harbor. “Canoes are cool,” he said.

  “They’re actually kayaks,” Darby said, sitting down on the edge of the dock and taking off her sneakers. She had on a pair of shorts: short shorts, ones that gave him a view of her long, lean legs.

  “Oh,” he said.

  She took off her t-shirt and revealed a light-blue bikini top. Her skin was tan and lightly freckled.

  “Shouldn’t you have some sunscreen?” he asked, managing to move his tongue. It was just a bikini for goodness sake. After all, he’d seen plenty of girls in them. But Darby’s showed off a strong, sculpted back and tight, lean arms.

  “Already did.” She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a bottle. “But here’s mine, if you need it.”

  “Thanks,” he said, catching the container as she tossed it to him.

  She saw him assessing her. “I used to row crew in college for a few semesters. You know, those long, skinny boats with the oars? Gives you great muscle tone. I still use a rowing machine for exercise.”

  He nodded, trying to put his tongue back where it belonged. “Seems like it’s working out just fine for you.”

  “I couldn’t really keep up with it.”

  “What happened? Did you get hurt?”

  “No. I always worked, in restaurants, you know, for spending money. And then this place I was working for, the chef left to go to this new place. More upscale, gourmet. We were friends, so he brought me along. It was good experience and better pay. Late nights though. And crew practice was early in the morning.”

  “So crew had to go?”

  She shrugged. “I really wanted to spend a semester abroad in Italy, so I was saving money for that.”

  “Did you go?” he asked, curious to know, staring down at her.

  “Yes, I did. Best four months ever.” She tossed her head back and laughed.

  “What, the language, the art?” He hadn’t been to Italy—yet.

  “No, silly. The food!”

  He laughed with her. “So what did you do, eat your way around the country?”

  “Something like that,” she smiled, flipped her sunglasses down onto her eyes. “I took cooking lessons. My first formal ones. I was supposed to be studying Renaissance history but instead I pretty much hung out at the cooking school, bothering the Signora all the time.”

  “Sounds like something I would have done,” he said.

  She must have sensed the wistfulness in his voice. “You’ve never been?”

  “To Italy? No. Not yet. I came straight from Indiana to New York and just started going to cooking school and then working. Never seemed like there was any time for all of that fancy stuff. I just kept cooking.” And partying and trying to make a name for himself. It had been a relentless whirl, with him and his publicist always looking for the next big thing for him to attach himself to.

  “Well, that works too,” Darby said, and she swung herself off the side of the dock and landed with catlike grace on the float.

  “Your turn,” she said, holding up her hand for the bags and the rest of the gear.

  He looked at the drop and did his best to match her graceful landing, but the small fl
oat dipped under his weight and she was caught off balance and thrown into his arms.

  He held her there, a little longer than he had to, enjoying the feel of her sun-warmed skin under his hands, the way she smelled of coffee beans and cinnamon, the gentle bouncing and dipping of the platform beneath them.

  The sun sparkled on the water and he could hear the sound of a motor whiz by them, followed by high-pitched laughter. It was summertime, he thought, and it was the first time all season he’d felt like he was having fun. That he was where he belonged.

  Darby ran her tongue over her lips, gave him a smile, and pulled back. He couldn’t see her eyes behind her sunglasses, but he wondered if they mirrored any of the desire he was feeling for her.

  “We better set out, before the tide turns.”

  “I have no idea what that means,” he said.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.”

  “I’m counting on that, sugar.”

  #

  He was doing pretty well, Darby thought, for a guy who’d never really been on the water. He could swim, she had checked on that, but she had made sure they were both wearing life preservers, just in case.

  The day’s weather was perfect. The breeze was light and shifting, but never enough to make them work against it. She had timed their trip out to the cove so that the rush of the tide in and out of the harbor carried them toward their destination, not pushed them away from it.

  One kayak was hers, the other she had borrowed from Chase. They were sporty, lightweight models that sat fairly low on the water, but they cut through the water cleanly and she enjoyed the pull of her shoulder muscles, as she dipped one end of the paddle into the water and then the other.

  Sean made up in strength what he lacked in technique and kept pace with her. She had maneuvered them through the thicket of boats that were moored close to the marina until they were hugging the far shore of the harbor. On the one side were bluffs studded with homes that commanded a sweeping view of the harbor. Across from them, across the broad expanse of the harbor, on the far shore was the derelict Queensbay Show House. It had once hosted some big names for summer stock theater, but had long since been closed up.

  “Where are we heading?” Sean asked, giving a deep stroke as he pulled up level with her.

  “Just a little bit further, I promise,” she told him.

  She was making for Dyer’s Cove, a shallow inlet off the main harbor. The land around it had been donated to the county as part of a nature preserve and the best way to enjoy it was to hike in from the main road or take a small boat like a kayak in. Anything bigger would most likely run aground and since most of the rest of Queensbay seemed hell-bent on enjoying themselves by going as fast as they could on jet skis or motor boats, she was fairly certain they’d be able to have it to themselves.

  The opening to the cove came upon them and she scooted in. It was narrow, filled in with sand and rocks and even the rotting planks of an old wooden ship that had been run aground here long ago. The ribs of the hull stood out of the water at high tide and it had been there always, for as long as she could remember, each year, another little bit getting torn away, but so slowly that it seemed as if nothing changed.

  They slipped in underneath the trailing leaves of a tree that jutted out over the bank and it was a bit like entering a different world. The sounds of the harbor faded behind them and it was quieter here. The water was flat, as if the breeze that blew and ruffled the water outside couldn’t reach.

  “Wow,” Sean said.

  She glanced over and saw that he had stopped paddling and was just gliding, entranced by the sudden peacefulness. “I know. You would hardly even know it’s here.”

  “It’s quiet,” he said, and though he wasn’t shouting, his voice carried over the glasslike water and disturbed a heron, which sailed into the sky, its wings beating the air as if in annoyance.

  She led them over to a crescent-shaped, sandy beach. Their kayaks touched ashore at the same time, the hulls gliding out of the water and coming to a stop with a slight thump. She swung herself out of the boat, lifted the bow end, and dragged it up a few feet.

  “Why are you doing that?” Sean asked, as he unfolded his long legs from the small compartment of the kayak.

  “The tide will turn in about an hour or two and then the water will start to come up and if we’re not paying attention, we’ll either have to walk home or swim back. And explain to Chase how we lost one of his boats.”

  Sean laughed. “I guess I see your point.”

  She pulled out the blanket she had brought and spread it out a little farther up, under the shade of a tree. Sunlight dappled it.

  Sean heaved up the small cooler he had packed and threw himself down next to her. She was aware how close he was, the way the fine, light blonde hairs of his arm were almost brushing against hers. If she shifted just a little toward him, they would touch, she knew and she wondered if he would be able to feel the electric current that was racing along under her skin. She hadn’t quite thought about what the thought of seeing him in a bathing suit would do to her, though she had a fairly good idea of what the sight of her in a bikini was doing to him.

  She stretched out, enjoying the feeling. His dark eyes had stayed steady on her, ratcheting up the heat level between them. He moved and she sat up and jumped away as if he had shocked her. God, she thought, she was as jumpy as that heron around him. To hide her irritation she took a drink from the water bottle she’d brought. The cool liquid slid down her throat and it served to keep her from looking at him.

  “Are you hungry or thirsty?” he asked, as he rolled back to one side. He held up a bottle of white wine, still chilled, condensation dripping down. In the other, he had a plate.

  “Both. But I don’t usually drink in the middle of the day,” she said.

  “Isn’t it five o’clock somewhere?” he offered, with a grin. “Besides, I found a new supplier for the Osprey Arms, and he assures me that the only way to appreciate his artisanal fromage is with a crisp white.”

  “Mick Bonet? From the Westcott Dairy?”

  Sean nodded. “I take it that’s where the amazing goat cheese came from for your breakfast sandwiches.”

  “Oh, yes. Mick is quite the salesman. He supplies a few restaurants in the city as well. It’s nice that his farm isn’t that far from here.”

  He passed her a cracker already layered with the cheese. She took a bite and let saltiness melt in her mouth. Beside her, she heard the sound of a cork being eased out of the bottle.

  “Plastic cups, I’m afraid. Apparently, The Osprey isn’t quite prepared for impromptu gourmet picnics.”

  A moment later he handed her some wine. “Cheers.” Sean raised his plastic cup to hers and they clicked them together.

  She took a drink, savoring the light crispness of the wine sliding down her throat and wiggled her toes in the sand. A sigh must have escaped her because Sean looked at her.

  “Penny for those thoughts?”

  She smiled and leaned her head back to the let the sun warm her cheeks. “I was just thinking how I could be trapped inside an office, the only light I got from the fluorescents overhead, the only green from the dusty fake plant shoved in the corner. And here I am, in the middle of the week, in the middle of the afternoon, with my toes in the sand, drinking wine, on a beach.”

  “When you put it that way, life does sound a lot better around here.” Sean rolled onto his back. “I don’t see how anyone could be stuck behind a desk all day.”

  “I know,” Darby said, taking another sip of her wine. After just a few sips it was making her feel reckless. “I thought I was going to go crazy, just stuck there, poring over piles and piles of paperwork.”

  “At least, in a kitchen, you get to move around. It’s hard work, but there’s a sense of . . . .”

  “Purpose, creativity,” Darby finished for him.

  “And all that heat . . . .”

  He had turned over, so that they were facing each
other, lying side by side. She could feel the space between them closing, the heat between them rising. His eyes were bright in the sun and a light breeze tousled his blonde hair, and she could smell his strong, clean scent of soap and nothing else.

  “Passion for food, for ingredients . . . ,” she almost whispered. His foot touched her—a small tickle of his toes against her—then his hand came up and brushed a lock of hair from her face, then trailed down the length of her arm, slowly, oh so slowly so that her body reacted in slow motion, his touch sending shivers to her core.

  Their lips touched and this time she met his, feeling the force between them rise up. She was ready for him, ready for the heat and passion he brought to her. There was nothing tentative in this kiss and there was a sound, a small, low moan that must have been from her as she gave herself into it, melting into him.

  Before she knew it, his arms were around her, fisting in her hair, pulling her closer. His mouth left hers to scrape kisses along her neck and she let her head fall back, feeling the primitive need of just wanting him. Above her, the blue of the sky and the green of the leaves jumbled together in a kaleidoscope of color as she closed her eyes and let her senses take over.

  She fell back and he moved so that he was on top of her, trailing kisses down her neck. His hand came up and brushed the skin at the base of her neck and her whole body went electric at his touch.

  She gasped as his teeth nipped her lips. She shifted under his weight, feeling the need to meet him, and she felt his desire for her. The thought occurred to her that they were on a blanket, out in the open, but her body was too preoccupied with the demands his mouth was making for her to care.

  She wrapped his arms around Sean’s broad back, feeling the muscles that bunched and moved underneath her hands.

  With the suddenness of nature, there was a loud squawk and then the sound of flapping wings again. She almost ignored it, but she heard the shout of a human voice following close on it, and in a swift movement she had pushed Sean away and was sitting up, straightening her bikini top, trying to smooth down her hair, when the hikers came into view.

  Sean had shifted over onto his stomach and shot her a look that was part smoldering desire and part amusement. They had been caught just like a couple of teenagers, necking in public.