by Judy Kentrus
“I better mind my p’s and q’s.” Preston reached for her hand when they walked up the slate-lined path between the buildings and made their way to the pond. “Tell me about your family and something about Cindi Pearl that isn’t in a standard personnel file. Don’t bother to tell me your favorite color. I already know.” He grinned.
“Okay, but you have to do the same. My parents live on the outskirts of Stevensville on a small farm. They have a few chickens and a huge vegetable garden. They are both retired and love to go flea marketing. My older brother Denny and his wife have three children. He’s a truck driver and lives down the road from my parents. As a kid, I dreamed of becoming a ballet dancer, but the first time I tried to go up on my toes, my ankles gave out and I broke my little toe. I thought about becoming an astronaut, but I went on a roller coaster and threw up. Heights and excessive g’s definitely didn’t agree with me. For a time, I thought about becoming a veterinarian, so my mother suggested I volunteer at an animal shelter. One of my jobs was to clean up the poop. It was so gross. Again, I threw up.”
Preston couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you making this up?”
“Nope. You wanted to know something about me that wasn’t written down. My mother has pictures of me throwing up after the amusement ride if you want proof. Okay, enough about me.”
“My career aspirations weren’t as colorful as yours. I grew up in Oregon and my parents still live in Newport. My father is a marine biologist and is one of the head honchos at the marine science center. He’s spent a great deal of his life studying dolphins. My parents met in college, fell in love and got married. My mother’s parents are very well-off and were appalled their daughter chose to ignore her college education to marry and raise a family.”
“Do they still feel that way?”
“No, they’ve come around and think the world of my father. I loved surfing and water-skiing, anything that had to do with water.”
“Is that where you earned the name Dolphin?”
“Yes, but how did you find out about my nickname?”
“Your sister told me.”
“It was a long time ago.”
Cindi caught the wistful regret in his voice, and it made her more determined to make him realize he could do those things again if he really tried. “If you loved the water so much, why didn’t you follow in your father’s footsteps?”
“At the time, my main goal in life was to have fun, but I was always a wiz with numbers. My grandfather on my mother’s side, claimed I inherited the skill from him. When I was twenty, he gave me fifty thousand dollars and challenged me to double the money in six months.”
“Did you win?”
“I made ten times the amount and gave him back his original fifty thousand plus ten percent. I discovered a new way to have fun. Over the years, I’ve made some very wise investments and built up quite a nest egg.”
“Now I know how you are able to drive an Aston Martin.”
“Guilty, but now I have fun tracking down other people’s ill-gotten gains.”
They reached the pond and sat on the wooden bench. Overhead, the black velvet sky was brilliant with twinkling stars, and the light from the summer moon danced on the gentle waves. Frogs croaked among the swaying reeds, and fireflies flickered through the air. A gaggle of geese joined Cupcake and Muffin for a swim.
“I love it here.” Cindi cradled Donut in her lap and snuggled against Preston when he draped his arm about her shoulder. “Except for the night creatures, everything is so peaceful and quiet.”
“Why do you think I wanted to transfer from Manhattan to Laurel Heights?” For now he’d keep it to himself that he wanted to be near her.
Two geese chose that moment to come in for a landing and gracefully glide across the calm water, giving Cindi an idea. “Do you miss water sports?”
“Yes. I miss skiing in the winter, too. Notice I didn’t clam up or cringe at the question?”
Cindi was thrilled by his positive attitude and pressed a little more. “We could drive to Henry Long’s campground, just outside of town. They offer ski and boat rentals. In the winter there are wonderful slopes in the area that have all kinds of winter sports.”
The gently bobbing rowboat drew his attention. “We could take a ride in that little dinghy some night. I’m great at rowing.”
“Some nights, when it’s hot, I go swimming. The water is quite warm.”
When there wasn’t a response, Cindi lifted her head and noticed he was staring at his closed fist. “Is something wrong?”
“Do you know what I’m holding in my hand?”
She did, but played stupid. “No.”
“Something sweet and wonderful that I really want to collect.”
Her heart beat a little faster. “I believe you have two treasures on account. I forgot to mention that the longer it takes you to collect, the more the interest builds up.”
He tightened his arm and lifted her chin with a finger. Moonlight highlighted her natural beauty. “You never mentioned a penalty. What’s the percentage?”
“A hundred percent. Kiss for kiss. You better hurry up and start collecting. The interest is building up as we speak.”
“Numbers men hate interest, but this is one time I’ll gladly pay.” He lowered his head and captured her upturned mouth. Luscious, heavenly lips eagerly blended with his. When her arm came up and wrapped around his neck, he sunk in further. Precious, sweet Cindi Pearl.
Donut wanted nothing to do with the human’s lovey-dovey cuddling and jumped off her lap. “That’s one,” Preston murmured, lowered his head a second time and took the kiss a whole lot deeper.
When he finally let her up for air, he sampled the tender skin under her jaw. “Let me know when I’ve erased all the penalties.”
Cindi met his skimming lips and softly moaned, “I forgot to mention that for every penalty paid within the allotted time, you get bonus points, but there is a time limit, so you’d better get back to clearing up your debt.”
“Gladly.”
That was the start of their nightly routine: after-dinner walks, rowboat rides and kisses, lots and lots of kisses. When he asked Cindi if he’d cleared up his debt, she just said he was getting close. Some nights Samantha joined them for pizza. Other nights they dined alone at the Laurel Bistro. One night he used Samantha’s kitchen and prepared Jennie’s chicken pot pie. His sister prided herself on the recipe and gave Preston explicit instructions.
In between his priority work for Adams Security, Preston worked on tracking the theft from the derby fund. He’d put a call in to Reggie DeWitt, their head computer tech in the Manhattan office, to track the package. Preston uncovered the initial theft, but did further research on the person and was troubled by what he’d uncovered. Each time he checked another account, it opened another can of worms. In his opinion, there was no simple fix. Cindi was not going to like what he’d found.
Preston glanced at the time on his watch and realized he’d better get a move on. It was already after four and he had a stop to make before he went home. He’d been living on the farm for a week and he no longer found pleasure in working after hours. There was someone waiting. The thought gave him untold happiness. He’d also promised Cindi they would visit the Laurel Heights Campground after dinner to check out the boat rentals.
He tossed his glasses onto his desk and rubbed his tired eyes. His nightly walks with Cindi were becoming more frustrating. One touch, one caress and things heated up between them like a wood-stoked fire. The other night things had gotten hot and heavy. When she took off her tank top and bared her beautiful breasts, it was all he could do not to strip off the rest of her clothes. Maybe it was time to take a little breather. What the hell kind of excuse would he give? Get real, PJ. You couldn’t make it through the day without her. You are hopelessly in love with Cindi Pearl.
A half hour later, the haunting sounds of Sophie Tucker singing “Some of These Days” came from overhead speakers when Preston walked into the
doggie hotel on Main Street. In the early nineteen hundreds, The Hotel was the only place travelers could stay since it was a block from the train station. Buford Adams, Lincoln Adams’s late grandfather, had purchased the building slated for demolition. After restoring the interior to its original turn-of-the-century beauty, he was approached by the town veterinarian. Dr. Dubielsky opened the pet clinic, doggie day care and spa. The shop would be closing in ten minutes, so he wasn’t surprised it was empty. He walked down one of the Persian carpet runners that protected the dark mahogany floors and headed toward the veterinary section off the main room. A female voice was raised in anger. Someone was getting chewed out.
“Just like a man! Can’t control your dick! With the swish of tail, you fall for a sexy piece of ass. You’ve got a perfectly good woman at home. You’re a cheater! You better pray those babies have pure white hair! I should have had you neutered, but I didn’t want you to be a eunuch!”
Preston stopped in the doorway of the examining room. Lisa Kay, the vet tech, stood in front of a metal table and waived a sheet of paper in front of a black cat that totally ignored her tirade. Her blue smock with happy dogs and cats topped straight-leg jeans. He knew her to be in her early forties and she was engaged to Sam Morlock, a billionaire by inheritance, but a contractor and carpenter by choice. She also lived next door to Jessie and Lincoln.
“I take it he cheated on Abby Lincoln, Edie’s cat.” Preston stepped into the brightly lit room, and it took all of his self-control not to laugh. Xavier Cugat continued to lick his paws.
His nonchalant manner infuriated Lisa Kay that much more. She turned away from the horny womanizer and shook the legal document. “He couldn’t pick an ordinary cat to poke with his pecker! No, he went after Simone, a white Angora cat. This is an official notice from the owner. If it turns out Don Juan is the father, I’ll have to pay for the kittens. Do you know how much they cost? It’s a good thing my Sam has money!”
“Look at it this way. The owner won’t be able to make you pay full price because they won’t be purebred.”
“There is that,” she laughed. “I got your e-mail about adding an animal to the menagerie at Samantha’s farm and contacted Nicola Harding. She is moving to London and was relieved her pet would be going to a good family. Dr. Dubielsky has been taking care of the donkey since she was a couple of months old and is familiar with her needs. I’ll make arrangements to bring the donkey to the farm, along with a supply of feed and care instructions.”
“Perfect. Remember, it’s a surprise. Aren’t you going to ask why I’m interested in this particular rescue animal?”
Lisa Kay perched on the hip-high examining table and lifted Xavier Cugat in her arms. She ran a hand over his soft black coat. “Not really. It takes out-of-the-ordinary people to open their hearts to animals with unique needs. I consider you a very special person, but I do have one question. Are you doing this for yourself or for Cindi Pearl? Most guys send girls flowers or candy to show their love.”
The blush that swept across his cheeks would be contrary to denying her accusation. He stepped closer to the table and ran a hand over Xavier Cugat’s head. “I’m going to take the Fifth on your question, but feel free to make your own determination.”
“Good enough. You couldn’t find a better person to entrust with your heart.”
“I know,” he mumbled on his way out the door. Lisa Kay never heard his reply.
“It’s a beautiful evening. I’m so glad we decided to eat out on the porch. Preston should be coming home any time.” Cindi placed red-and-white-checked napkins on the glass-topped picnic table.
“That sounds so domestic,” Samantha teased, lightly tossing a bowl of fresh greens from their garden that she’d laced with her special lemon-lime vinaigrette dressing. “The grilled veggies are done, and the steaks won’t take long because the grill is hot.” Sam sat down in one of the white wicker chairs and picked up her glass of cabernet. “Has he made love to you yet?”
“You mean, has he taken off like a jackhammer?”
“What!” Samantha almost choked on her wine. “Tell me more.”
Cindi explained about the private joke she’d shared with Jennie Reynolds. “I don’t know what is stopping him. When we are down by the pond, sometimes I straddle his lap and rub myself against him. He’s hot, rock-hard and so ready. The other night, I took off my tank and was surprised spittle didn’t drip from his mouth. I was naked and had high hopes he’d lose control. He suckled my breasts like a starving man who’d gotten his first taste of food in years. Then he stopped! I couldn’t have been hotter if they served me up on a spit at a luau! I was so frustrated, I dove into the pond to cool off. Donut jumped in after me. You know what PJ did?”
“I wasn’t there, remember?” Sam folded her lips, trying to hold in her laugh.
“He laughed, really laughed! So I stood up in all my half-naked glory and tossed handfuls of water at him. He finally stopped laughing and offered me his shirt. We were almost back to the barn when he whispered in my ear that I taste delicious and my wet breasts look beautiful in the moonlight. I never knew a man to have so much self-control. From now on I’m going to limit his touchy-feely action. If enough frustration builds up, he’ll finally jump my bones.”
Sam decided a change of subject was needed. “Have you asked him to go with you to the soap box derby in Stevensville? Better yet, have you made your special arrangements?”
“I called in a couple of favors, so we’re set. I’m going to ask him after dinner. We’re driving out to Henry Long’s campground to deliver the box of cookies you made for Billy Landis. The kid will figure out soon enough that it’s his parent’s way of checking up on him.
Preston drove his sleek car down a curvy road through a thick-forested area that led to the campground bordering Laurel Lake. Signs and trail markers, supported by carved wood black bears, provided directions to the different sections of the prime piece of real estate.
“I didn’t realize this place was so big.” Preston slowed and took the fork to the marina.
“Along with the tent and trailer sites, there are fully furnished rental cabins, a clubhouse, a concession stand, general store and a gift shop. Henry recently added a second pool, kid-friendly, and another playground for the children. Once the new Laurel Heights Inn is completed, the cabins will be available year-round. Each one has its own stone fireplace and kitchenette. It’s not public knowledge, but he’s franchised a café that will offer breakfast and lunch.”
“Won’t that cut into the Spoonful’s business?”
“Sallie Mae isn’t the least bit worried.” Cindi smiled. “It was her idea to open The Tablespoon.”
“She is one smart businesswoman. How do you know so much about the place?”
“Again, not for public knowledge. Long and Barrows, Scott and Russell’s architectural division, designed the inn, but they, along with Lincoln, invested in Henry’s new venture. The details and legal documents come across my desk. They anticipate completion by next summer.”
Preston offered a sheepish smile. “Guess you don’t know about the second phase, the convention center and pro golf course they plan to build in two years.”
“What convention center?” Then it hit her. “You invested in the project too?”
“Russell put me in touch with his father. We discussed how much I’d like to contribute and, as they say, the rest is history. It’s an excellent investment. Oh, and Sam Morlock has tossed his hat into the ring. He’s even suggested one of the bars resemble a train dining car from the twenties.”
Cindi tapped the dashboard with an appreciative hand. “Just as long as you don’t lose your shirt and have to sell this great car.”
Preston patted the back of her hand. “Have no fear.” He kept it to himself that he owned a second one, which he parked at his parents’ house. Jennie loved the car and kept the engine well-tuned.
They took a second left at the sign that read “Parking, Boats and Rentals.” At t
his time of night, the huge paved lot was almost empty. Pleasure craft of all sizes were tied up to the mooring docks and bobbed in the gentle swells. A one-story building, painted turquoise-blue, bordered the water’s edge. The white shutters on the retail windows had been lowered for the day.
Cindi grabbed the round tin of cookies she’d set on the backseat and got out of the car. “Billy Landis is working at the marina for the summer. Fishing is his life, so he must be ecstatic to be around water and be able to fish anytime he wants.” She scanned the dock area that included a double-wide boat ramp directly into the lake. “Speak of the devil. See that tall, slender teenager with the fishing pole in his hand? That’s Scott and Julie’s son.” Cindi was glad she wore lightweight pants and a long-sleeve sweater. The early evening breeze off the water made goose bumps blossom on her arms.
“Any new fish tales?” she teased when they got to the end of the long wooden dock.
“Hey, Ms. Cindi! How are you?” he asked with a big smile. The light wind ruffled the sixteen-year-old’s dark brown hair, which was in need of a trim. The sun had cast a golden tan on his skin. His still wore a red bathing suit, and the front of his T-shirt displayed a picture of bass fishing boat. “I knew Mom would figure out a way to check on me.”
“I wouldn’t put it that way. Bill, I’d like you to meet Preston Reynolds. We work together.” Cindi held out the can. “Samantha sent you double chocolate fudge and raisin oatmeal cookies.”
His golden brown eyes lit up with pleasure. “Fantastic!” He balanced the tin of cookies in one hand and shook hands with the other. “Hey, Mr. Reynolds. The food here is pretty decent, but nothing like homemade cookies. Ms. Samantha bakes as good as my mom.”
“Call me Preston. How’s the fishing?”
“Not bad, now that my number-one pest went to the gift shop.”
