Trapped in Tourist Town

by Jennifer DeCuir

  “You two are so alike. When Chase is angry or annoyed with you, it’s always ‘your best friend’, never ‘my sister.’” She fixed Cady with a sobering look. “You know you can’t ask him to use his position like that. He takes his job on the force very seriously.”

  “Tell me about it. Do you remember when he was just a summer rent-a-cop and he slapped us with citations for jaywalking? I tried to get Mom to talk him out of it, but she insisted he was just doing his job. She always took his side.” Cady knew she sounded petulant but she didn’t care.

  “It hurts him, you know ... that you want to leave town so badly. He takes it a little personally.” Amanda pushed the laundry basket aside and leaned closer to her childhood pal.

  “Would it be so awful to stay in Scallop Shores? What are you looking for that you can’t find here?” She covered Cady’s hand with her own. “We used to talk about living next door to each other, raising our kids together.” As one they turned to focus their gazes on Amanda’s swollen belly.

  “I’ve explained this before, Amanda. What I need ... it just isn’t here. I want to have adventures. I want to experience culture. I want to live!” She squeezed her shoulder blades together and tried again.

  “It’s not like I’m going to fall off the map. I’ll be back for holidays, birthdays—any time you need me. I’m just a few hours away. Call me and I’ll come home.”

  Cady stood up, rounding the table to kneel in front of Amanda. She wrapped her friend in a warm hug, then sat back on her haunches, a sad smile on her face.

  “I know it’s hard for you to understand. You’ve always loved it here. It’s enough for you. I get that. Try to put yourself in my shoes for just a moment. There is so much world out there that we’ll never experience just living our lives in Scallop Shores.” She stood up and began to pace.

  “No one ever does anything exciting or out of the ordinary here. Everyone has routines. Lives are patterned after the generation before, and the one before that. That’s great for some people, but not for me.”

  “But if you fell in love? That could change your outlook, right?” Hope shined in Amanda’s eyes.

  “You were lucky. You’ve got a good guy there. I know he drives me up the wall sometimes, but Chase is a really decent person. You’ll be very happy here. I want that for you. It makes me happy.”

  Cady had been circling the kitchen island. Now she hopped onto the countertop, drawing her legs beneath her.

  “At this point in my life, it’s too hard to imagine falling for a man who I’d give up everything to be with. No way. I need to get out of Scallop Shores, see what I’m missing. There is so much I want to experience before I even think about settling down.”

  “Promise me you won’t get so caught up in your new life that you forget us?”

  “Bite your tongue, sister dear. That would never happen.”

  • • •

  A twangy guitar riff coming from her ear buds muted the screeching of the seagulls and the crash of the surf to her right. Cady’s sneakers pounded the packed surface of the beach as she felt the slow burn building in her muscles. At nearly six o’clock in the morning, she had this stretch of sand to herself. She did her best thinking out here.

  She’d miss her morning runs along the beach. Regret tried to worm its way past the euphoria of her runner’s high and Cady banished it by pushing her body to new limits. She would be sore later, but it would be worth it.

  The short drive to the shore had only reinforced what Chase had told her the day before. Lucille, the old Civic she’d bought the summer she’d graduated high school, was dying. Cranking the car stereo up to mask its worrisome noises was not going to make them go away. She was putting off the inevitable, and it was to her own benefit to look for a replacement now, while she had the chance to negotiate for a lower asking price. Used-car salesmen could smell desperation on a person and that could take even more of her precious savings away.

  She needed money. That tip jar at the bakery wasn’t going to bring in the kind of cash that would help her move to the city. No, she needed a second job. Tourist season was just gearing up and there would be no shortage of jobs around the beach areas. The waterfront hotels would be looking for chambermaids, restaurants needed dishwashers and wait staff, and all the little souvenir shops would hire on cashiers.

  This was her last summer in Scallop Shores. Surely she could come up with something more exciting than cleaning out hotel rooms, waiting tables, or putting out the latest stock of T-shirts with the state of Maine or a cartoon lobster printed on them. Think, Cady, think. What could she do to earn the extra money she’d need to get settled in the city?

  Her feet slapped rhythmically as she quickly covered the one and a half miles of waterfront that made up Long Beach. She briefly considered taking her run up to the lighthouse, but she knew she wouldn’t make it back to open Logan’s in time.

  Thank goodness she lived right above the bakery. The cranberry scones she made before her run would be cool enough to carry downstairs after a quick shower. It always amused her that at seven o’clock on the dot, Cady would find a cluster of regulars with their noses pressed to the glass door. If she were even a minute late, she’d hear about it.

  Nearing the end of the beach, she pivoted on a heel and began to head the other way, back toward her car. A tiny figure in the distance showed her she no longer had the shoreline to herself. Concentrating on the summer cottages that dotted the opposite side of the road, she forgot the person until he was nearly on top of her.

  It was City Guy! And damned if he didn’t look just as good in old sweats and a Yankees tee as he did in the fancy duds she’d seen him in before. Maybe better. He slowed his pace as he approached her, stretching his arms over his head and pulling the fabric of his shirt tight across his well-toned pecs. Yeah, definitely better.

  “Wearing a Yankees tee in Red Sox country could be dangerous to your health. You ought to be more careful.” Cady trotted to a stop, drawing her knees up to her chest a few times to stretch them out.

  “Yeah? Who’s gonna jump me? You?” His challenge thrown down, he grinned like the devil.

  Cady smirked as she pulled the ear buds from her ears and continued to walk to her car. Not bad.

  “Yankees tee, metrosexual … everything else. You’re from New York, I take it? What brings you to Scallop Shores ...” She waited for him to supply his name as he raced to catch up with her.

  “Burke. I’m Burke Sanders. I guess you could say I’m here to give your town its fifteen minutes of fame. Or try to make a smaller tourist destination a bigger deal. Anyway, I write for a travel magazine. And yeah, I’m from the Big Apple—born and raised.”

  The thrill that passed through her upon learning he was indeed from the city, she’d explore later. But for now a giggle bubbled up too quickly to be stopped and Cady let out a chortle. She gestured toward a large, flat boulder near her car and made her way over the smaller loose stones to get to it. This one she had to sit down for.

  “You lose a bet?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Someone else get the cushier assignment? Are you being punished? What did you do to get saddled with Scallop Shores?” She sat down, drawing her legs up and patting the rock to invite Burke to sit beside her.

  “I didn’t do anything wrong. I just ... wow.” He shook his head. “You want out of Dodge in a bad way. I’m thinking yours is the better story here.” He took a long sip from a plastic water bottle and then held it out.

  The idea of drinking from his bottle suddenly seemed wildly intimate, wholly inappropriate. Her mouth got drier at the thought and she grabbed for the container before she lost her nerve. The spout was still warm from the touch of his lips. She couldn’t resist darting her tongue out to search for just a little taste of him.

  “My name is Cady Eaton. My family stepped off the Mayflower and kept wandering until they made it to Scallop Shores. And that is where they have stayed ... ever since.” She returned th
e water to Burke and focused her attention on the waves rolling toward them.

  “So you’ll be the first Eaton to leave town for the big city?”

  “No, actually. My great-aunt Cadence spent a summer there once. I’ve grown up on her stories of nannying for a rich family in Central Park West.”

  “So why didn’t she stay?” He cocked his head toward her.

  “I’ve been wondering the same thing. From what I understand, she left the love of her life to come back here.”

  “Because she loved her family more?”

  “Because that was what was expected of her.” Cady knew he was watching her, but she stared at the horizon, her jaw set.

  They passed the next few moments in silence. The less said, the better. She couldn’t believe she’d gone and blurted out family business to a complete stranger. He must think she was a real nutcase. Risking a quick glance, she chanced a sidelong look from beneath her lashes. Burke was studying the rolling surf.

  “Yours is a unique angle,” he finally spoke.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m sorry, it’s just that I need to research the town, but the whole tourist trade thing has been done so many times before.” He turned to Cady, his steady emerald gaze rooting her to the spot.

  “You’ve lived here all your life and you can’t wait to see it in your rearview mirror. How would you sell Scallop Shores? What will you miss most when you’re gone? What memories of this town will haunt you the most?”

  Cady blinked. She had an idea. She clapped her hands and barely kept from squealing in her excitement.

  “You should hire me!”

  “I beg your pardon? I’m a travel writer. It’s a one person job.”

  “I’ll be your research assistant, your tour guide. I can give you all sorts of unique angles.” She nearly shuddered at the heat that shot out at her from Burke’s intense gaze. Whoa, poor choice of words. “I can even type up your notes, take pictures, whatever you need.”

  “I don’t think it’s in the budget to hire on an assistant, much as I would enjoy it.” His grin was wolfish.

  “Please. I need the money. You saw that pathetic tip jar. And my car is about to give up the ghost. I’m never going to get to New York unless I find another source of income.”

  She knew she was begging but she no longer cared. Burke was her ticket out of Scallop Shores and she would convince him that he needed her as much as she needed him.

  “So then we’d have a working relationship?” He sounded disappointed.

  “For now ...” Cady shocked herself with that coquettish response.

  “I’m probably going to regret this, but what the hell? You’re hired.” He held out a hand and they shook on it. She had to tug to remove her hand after the shake went on just a tad long.

  It looked like she wouldn’t have to worry that her last summer in Scallop Shores would be boring. Things just got really interesting.

  Chapter 3

  Burke smiled and nodded at a young mother on his way to Logan’s Bakery. Intent on his daily dose of caffeine, and perhaps a fresh round of blushes from the adorable Cady, he explored the few square blocks that made up downtown Scallop Shores.

  He knew he shouldn’t be flirting but that woman brought out the devil in him. The attraction was mutual, of that he was certain. And now he’d agreed to work with her? He’d be lucky if he could pull together one article for the magazine before the summer was up, let alone a whole series. What had he been thinking?

  He couldn’t help the grin that crept onto his features. Ever since he’d met the woman, he’d been looking for a way to get to know her. When she suggested a working relationship, it was perfect. And more importantly, she thought she’d come up with it all on her own. Burke chuckled to himself.

  “Good morning. Beautiful day, isn’t it?” An older couple passed him on the street, the man calling out in a gravelly voice as he tipped his ball cap.

  Folks sure were friendly around here. That part wasn’t so bad. But the nosy bit? Good grief! He hadn’t watched nearly enough episodes of The Andy Griffith Show, whatever the heck that old ’50s black-and-white show had been. He just hoped when he started asking around about their town, that the residents wouldn’t balk at the way their roles had reversed.

  He’d been stunned when the cashier at the grocery store asked how he liked the cottage out on Pebble Way. He’d asked the kid how he knew where he was staying. His answer had been a convoluted list of names that he understood to be a mix of relatives and acquaintances and how so-and-so worked for such-and-such. It had made his head spin.

  Burke strolled down the sidewalk, browsing in shop windows as he got the lay of the land. He’d expected to bore quickly. Discontent would have him pining for the noise and bustle of the city. The crowded skyscrapers closed him in, made him feel safe. So all this wide-open space should be throwing him into a panic. Only it wasn’t.

  Ever since he’d stepped foot in Scallop Shores, things had been different. Burke never found himself distracted by a woman while on assignment before. He wasn’t a monk. A casual fling sure beat spending an evening alone. But to find himself repeatedly thinking of one woman? And taking a vested interest in her goal to leave town? That just wasn’t like him.

  Burke pulled up short when he discovered the town had a bookstore. Praise God, Glory Halleluiah, and all that crap. He hurried inside and stopped to fill his lungs with the rich scent of paper and ink. Books. Walking into a bookstore was like being wrapped in a mother’s arms. Warm and comfortable and you just wanted to stay there all day. Snorting, he realized that wasn’t the best analogy when applying it to himself. His own mother didn’t have a maternal bone in her body and he couldn’t recall her ever having hugged him. Walking into a lover’s arms. There, that was better.

  A woman, about his age, with fiery orange hair, sat on the floor with a wiggly tot. “Hey, you must be Burke. Welcome to the Book Nook.” That old Cheers theme song floated into his brain. Where everybody knows your name. He nodded, trying to keep his discomfiture from showing on his face. The speed with which small town news traveled was still creepy, but he was starting to get used to it.

  She smiled and turned her attention back to the baby, who had started to lift her tummy off the floor. “This one’s gonna be an early crawler. You mark my words. I’m Wynter…with a Y, by the way. Let me know if I can help you find anything.” She grinned at him as she tickled the chubby babe.

  Burke left the two of them alone for some cuddle time and began to explore the aisles. He studied a rack of new paperbacks, and not finding anything that appealed, he ventured deeper. For a small town, they had a sizeable horror section. This would do nicely. He scanned the backs of several books, reshelving some and hanging on to his two favorites. Then thinking about the fact that Scallop Shores had very little in the way of nightlife, he grabbed two more.

  He brought them up to the counter, started to reach for the card he used for charging expenses, and had to switch it for his personal credit card. He could spin a creative expense need out of just about any receipt, but the magazine’s accounting department would not buy “paperback novels” as a writing expense. Nope, this was on him.

  Speaking of which, he hadn’t been lying when he told Cady that he couldn’t pay for an assistant. He’d turned down the assistant Meredith offered him while writing that piece in Tokyo. So asking for one in a town the size of Scallop Shores would just look ridiculous. If he paid Cady out of his own pocket, he didn’t have to admit to anyone but himself that he was doing it just to spend time with her.

  Anxious to get to the bakery, Burke tried to convince himself it was because he was desperate for a caffeine fix. And he was hungry. Starving. Yeah, that was it. He passed a couple of more storefronts, spying his own reflection in one window and nearly groaning at the freaking toothpaste ad that smiled back at him.

  He was only in Scallop Shores as a favor to his editor. He’d already made up his mind that the boredom would probably ki
ll him. He was supposed to be missing the city life. He should have been thinking about the next assignment. Quick! Think. Where should he go next? Paris?

  Would the sidewalk cafes and boutiques have planters there that looked as charming as these half whiskey barrels full of flowers that he was passing? Gah! He was a guy, a man’s man. He shouldn’t be thinking of flowers or sidewalk cafes or especially the city of love. Argh! Where did that come from? No love! There was no love. There would never be love in Scallop Shores.

  By now he was muttering to himself, eyes to the ground, ignoring the people who spoke to him as though he’d lived here all his life. Everyone was so welcoming. The sense of community was infectious. It made him think things he had no business thinking. Home and family. Little League and white picket fences. It was awful—horrifying.

  Where was he? Burke looked up and found that he’d run out of sidewalk. Well, technically it continued on the other side of the street, once he passed the Civil War monument. He was just surprised that he’d walked so far past the bakery and hadn’t realized it. Shaking the cobwebs from his brain, he turned on his heel and headed back the way he’d come.

  Forget his next assignment. He ought to be focusing on a vacation. Seeing as he couldn’t remember the last time he’d traveled for pleasure, he was overdue. Though to be honest, all-inclusive island resorts and European cities steeped in culture and history held less and less appeal for him. Burke’s footsteps slowed. He kicked a pebble out into the empty street.

  His idea of a luxury vacation now? Uninterrupted time at his laptop. Holed up in a cabin in the woods. Unbidden, his little rental cottage came to mind, that picture-perfect view of the ocean staring at him from that one tiny square window. Finally turning years’ worth of jotted ideas into a real novel.

  Good God, he needed his coffee now! He was starting to hallucinate. Envisioning some fanciful dream world. Rolling his eyes, he half expected the people around him to start breaking into song, birds alighting on his finger. Stupid Scallop Shores! Cady had it right. Best to get out while he could.