All four women on the deck must have found his expression highly amusing, because they could barely breathe for all their laughing. Burke shook his head. The women he knew in the city were not this blunt.
“I’m sorry, Burke. This is my mother, May, and my sister-in-law, Amanda.”
May stood, and before Burke could hold out a hand in greeting, she wrapped him in a hug. Amanda was slower, struggling out of her plastic deck chair. She, too, introduced herself with a hug. Her big belly got in the way and Burke was stunned to feel a slight tap to his middle.
“Oh, excuse me! I guess Baby Eaton is saying hi, as well.” Amanda giggled.
Cady led the way into the kitchen, setting the pie down on a section of counter that wasn’t filled with paper plates, bowls, or bags of potato chips. She took the other desserts and found homes for them as well, turning to give Burke a bright smile before sidling over to the stove and laying a loud kiss on her father’s cheek.
“Daddy, this is Burke Sanders. Burke, this is my dad, Wallace. You’ve met Chase.” There was a snort of laughter that made it very clear that everyone in the room was well aware of Burke’s famous 911 call.
“And that gorgeous man fixing us dinner is Foster Duncan. He’s Amanda’s brother. Their parents own The Lobster Pot, a restaurant in the harbor. Best seafood on the East Coast.”
Burke nodded his head toward the man who was probably as close to thirty as he was. Gorgeous, huh? He supposed, if you liked dark hair, darker eyes, and a dimple in one—no, make that two—cheeks. Instinct had Burke wanting to dislike the guy on principle. He kept looking from Cady to Foster, searching for some sign that would reveal they were more than friends. Not having experienced jealousy before, Burke found his first taste bitter.
“We’re almost done in here. Cady, love, why don’t you start taking things out to the patio table? Probably should light up the citrine candles now, too. Mosquitos will be wanting to eat us alive.” Wallace handed her a stack of plates and a long-handled lighter.
Before he could offer to carry something out, May pushed a large covered salad bowl into his hands. She tossed a big bag of potato chips on top and patted his arm. Burke tried to navigate past a huge gray cat that looked as though it was doing its best to trip him up.
“Daisy! Scat!” Cady stuck a toe out and convinced the cat to leave him alone.
“Thanks. I think it was trying to break my neck.” He chuckled.
“Probably.” Cady wasn’t laughing.
The long plastic table had already been covered with a red checked tablecloth. May and Auntie were following close behind, each carrying more food. Burke tried to lift covers and peek under glass lids, but he kept getting his hands slapped. It all smelled so good. His own parents would have cheerfully dropped dead before dining al fresco.
He hovered as the ladies set plates out, filled lemonade glasses, and uncovered bowls of potato salad and homemade cole slaw. Cady had gone back inside to help carry out the lobsters, clams, and drawn butter. Burke hurried over to help Auntie and Amanda into their seats.
“Woo hoo! Check out those city manners.” Chase chortled as Burke pushed in Amanda’s deck chair.
“You could learn a thing or two from this gentleman, Chase Eaton.” Auntie narrowed her gaze at her nephew.
This time the laughter was directed at Chase, and Burke was happy to join in.
Everyone found a seat at the table. No stranger to lobster, given his extravagant lifestyle, Burke was happy not to have to be instructed in the ways of extracting the succulent meat. He didn’t need another reason for a good ribbing from Chase.
“So, what do you think of our humble little town?” Wallace asked, sinking his teeth into a juicy ear of corn.
“High crime rate,” scoffed Chase.
“Enough with the raccoon jokes. It’s getting old.” Amanda rolled her eyes.
Burke pushed his fork through his pile of homemade potato salad and tried not to smirk at the man who made needling him almost a full-time job.
“I really like it here. I can definitely see the attraction.” He left it at that, knowing that the protective older brother in Chase would pick up on the double entendre, while hoping it was subtle enough that he didn’t piss off Cady’s dad in the process.
“Yeah, he’s even thinking of staying. Isn’t that exciting?” Cady squeezed his knee.
“So, wait … you’d choose our quiet little town over the Big Apple? Maybe you’d have better luck than any of us have had, convincing my stubborn little sister that she doesn’t need to move all the way to the city to be happy. There is plenty of excitement right here in Scallop Shores.”
“Burke will need the quiet,” Cady interrupted, no doubt to deflect yet another raccoon joke. “He’s writing a book.”
“A travel book?” May asked him.
“Fiction, actually. Horror.”
His head was beginning to spin at how fast the conversation was being pulled in different directions. It was clear Cady was using him to avoid a fight with Chase. Yet the pride in her voice seemed genuine. He had to admit, he liked it.
“Ooh, our own Stephen King!” Auntie’s quavering voice trilled.
Burke’s chest felt tight as he struggled with emotions that were so foreign to him. He’d only just met most of these people, and not only did they accept him for who he was, they were interested in his dreams of becoming an author. How could Cady want to leave this? Familial support, it felt like being pulled into a warm embrace. Good Lord—men were not supposed to get the warm fuzzies like this.
“Well, my editor would have my hide if she found out about my little moonlighting job.” Burke waggled his brows as he looked around the table. “I sure could use some local perspective from someone who isn’t desperate to flee the area. Maybe from someone who actually spent time in the city and chose to come back to her hometown?”
He’d been going for lighthearted, funny even, but the silence that descended over the table told Burke he’d crossed a line. Cursing inwardly, he was about to apologize to the elder Cadence when she smiled warmly.
“Young man, you are more than welcome to come visit me any time. I’m sure I have a story or two to share.”
He let out the breath he’d been holding.
“So if you’re gonna hang around, you should join our poker nights.” Foster—God love the guy for stepping in and changing the subject—punctuated his point with a lobster claw.
Out of the corner of his eye, Burke caught Chase making a throat-slicing gesture with his hand. Yes! Poker, beer, gambling, and trash talk. Now, that was manly. The fact that Chase didn’t want him there? Icing on the cake.
“I’d love to.” He shot Chase a toothy grin. “Let me know if you want to carpool, buddy.”
“Oh, I like you.” Amanda looked from her husband to Burke and back again, amusement crinkling her eyes.
Cady, too, seemed to be watching the exchange like it was a tennis match. She plucked at a fluffy buttermilk biscuit, sitting back in her chair and looking relaxed. Burke understood with sudden clarity that Cady had everything he wanted: a supportive, loving family, a close-knit community, a job she loved (at least as far as he’d seen). And she was willing—no, eager—to leave that behind and start a life on her own in the city. It didn’t make sense.
She was happy here. He’d have to be blind not to notice that. Surely it wouldn’t take much convincing to get her to stay. The wheels started to turn and Burke tried to come up with ideas on how to incorporate the parts of city life that Cady seemed to feel she needed in order to make her life complete.
Step one: Appease Mr. Logan by convincing more Scallop Shores residents to order Cady’s espresso drinks, so she could keep her machine at the bakery.
As if on cue, Cady traded out Burke’s empty plate for a slice of pie. He forked up a piece of flaky, buttery crust and placed it on his tongue. Heaven. The town could not afford to lose such a talented baker.
He looked up to find that she was waiting for his a
ssessment. His heart stuttered as he watched her expression go from nervous to hopeful and back again. She cared that much what he thought? Why him? Burke gave her a thumbs-up and a satisfied groan. Her face lit up. Joy, pure joy. It was contagious. He couldn’t afford to lose her, either.
Chapter 9
Three orders for cappuccinos, five for lattes, one for an Americano, and another for a macchiato—all from people who lived and worked in Scallop Shores. Cady was starting to wonder if she was on some Punk’d type reality show. Seriously bizarre.
“Hey, Cady, what’s up? I’ve got thirty glorious minutes to myself and I plan to indulge. Can I get a mocha with whip?” Talia, owner of Tumble Tots and mother to the cutest twin boys, had sidled up to the bakery counter.
Cady blinked. Talia always ordered a large French Roast, extra cream, and a brownie bite on the side. Without exception. Something was definitely going on.
“I’ll make you a mocha, on one condition.” She raised a brow, folding her arms across her chest. “You tell me who put you up to this.”
The bright smile fell from Talia’s face. Gotcha! She glanced toward the big plate-glass window as though she were afraid she’d be caught. Cady nodded in satisfaction.
“He’s just trying to help you out. Honest.”
“Who is? What are you talking about?”
“Burke.” Talia lowered her voice and leaned in closer. “He’s around the corner, convincing people to try something from your espresso machine, instead of the usual drip coffee.”
“Why on earth would he do that?”
“He said Mr. Logan was going to make you pack it away if you didn’t sell more. He asked if we’d support you in this. And of course we would. Our community rallies together. You should have asked us sooner, Cady.”
“Oh, Lord ...” Cady slapped a hand to her head and rolled her eyes.
This had to stop. She prepared the mocha—because no one touched her espresso machine but her—then gestured for her part-time employee, Sophie, to man the counter. She’d have a little chat with the overstepping new man in her life.
Because he’d annoyed her, and because she was feeling a little evil, Cady slipped out the back door and made her way around the building. Sure enough, Burke was at the end of the block, head down, talking to a couple of older women. Ha! Good luck with that. Those two never frequented the bakery. Known for their penny-pinching, the Allen sisters refused to eat out and only bought food they could prepare at minimal cost. To her stunned disbelief, Cady watched them each pat Burke on the arm, nod, and walk into the bakery. Forget Punk’d; maybe she was on an episode of The Twilight Zone.
“How are you doing it? Cash incentives? Offering up dates? Kisses? What?” Cady took some small satisfaction from the startled jolt that nearly had Burke tumbling over his own feet.
“What does it matter? You need the customers and I’m bringing them in. Most people would use this moment to say thank you.”
“It matters because I didn’t ask for this. And I do not need the customers. These people—well, most of them—were customers to begin with. This situation with Mr. Logan is my problem, not yours.”
“You should probably get back in there. The lovely Allen sisters seemed quite excited to try out a hazelnut latte. Just one. They said they were going to share it.”
“Fine. But you’re coming with me. I need to keep my eye on you. You’re stirring up trouble!”
“That’s just your way of saying you like me and you can’t keep your eyes off me. It’s okay, you can admit it.” Burke winked.
“Oh, you’re insufferable!” Cady grabbed the man by the hand and dragged him toward the entrance to the bakery.
“You’re the one we’re supposed to be focusing on. We need to figure out how to keep your parents off your back, get you a job so you can afford to live here, and then finally get you started on your dream career.”
As the bell jangled over their heads, Cady caught Sophie madly waving her arms to get her attention. The Allen sisters were waiting for their drink.
“We, huh? Why are you so hell-bent on helping me?” Burke stopped her with a firm hand on her shoulder.
“Because I like you and I can’t keep my eyes off you.” Cady tossed him a saucy grin and hurried to slip behind the counter.
“Hey, City Guy! You’re always good for a laugh. Come sit with us.” Old Man Feeney slapped the empty stool between him and one of his cronies.
Behind the espresso machine, Cady watched Burke bristle. His back went ramrod straight and he shot Feeney a look that made the old man squirm. Way to stand up to him, Burke! She wanted to cheer out loud but settled for a huge smile. He just stood there, waiting.
“Fine. Burke. Okay? Would you like to sit with us, Burke?” Old Man Feeney capitulated.
“I’d love to. Thanks.” He slid onto the proffered stool and slapped his new friend on the back.
The Allen sisters took their drink to a table by the window to wait for their warmed up croissant. Cady watched them, bemused. This was, indeed, an odd day. The Allen sisters’ purchase plus Feeney making nice with—anyone, really, was headline-worthy.
Handing the pastry to Sophie to bring to the women, Cady made her way to the end of the counter, where Burke sat with his new buddies.
“What’s your pleasure? The usual?” She stuck her tongue out at the lascivious wink he favored her with.
“You know what? I’m celebrating today. The BBQ with your family helped me make up my mind. I’ve decided to stay in Scallop Shores. So I’d like to buy my new friend here a drink.” He turned and fixed the old man with a challenging stare.
“How about it, Feeney? You got the nerve to try one of Cady’s fancy citified drinks?” Burke arched a brow.
“You callin’ me out, boy? You think I’m chicken? Just because you’re moving here now doesn’t mean the rest of us have to get all fancy.”
“I don’t think you’re chicken. I think you’re cheap. This one’s on me, pal. Celebrate with me. I’ll buy you whatever espresso drink you want.”
“Kid’s got balls! Fine. Gimme the plainest dang fancy coffee you can make with that contraption.” He answered gruffly. “But I ain’t tippin’.”
“You’ve got it!” Cady leaned across the scarred Formica counter, stole the ball cap off the old man’s head, and kissed him right on his bald pate.
“Aw, geez. You see what you made her do? She’s gonna think I’m some kind of freakin’ teddy bear now.”
“Don’t worry, Mr. Feeney. I’ll always think of you as a grizzly bear.”
“See that you do.” He harrumphed.
Cady quickly made two more drinks, silently debating whether or not she ought to train Sophie to use her precious espresso maker. It was probably just a one-time aberration. The locals would be back to their plain old coffee tomorrow. She looked at the empty tip jar perched near the register and couldn’t help but chuckle. Her sleepy little town was anything but predictable today. And now Burke was making his stay in Scallop Shores a permanent one. He looked so excited to share his news with anyone who’d listen. She couldn’t be happier for him. Really. However, her own dream of a new life in the city didn’t look quite so bright and shiny.
“So tell us about the Big Apple. Cady’s got it stuck in her head that it’s the best place in the world to be. The streets lined with gold, or something?” Old Man Feeney eyed the drink she put in front of him with suspicion.
“Nah, nothing like that. The streets are wall-to-wall cars, the sidewalks so crowded with people you can’t walk without knocking into someone. The horns honking, jackhammers from road construction, I’m talking major noise pollution.”
“It can’t be that bad. It’s just a busy city. People have to work. They have to get from place to place.” She set Burke’s latte in front of him with a frown.
“But they could be friendly about it. People here are so friendly.” Burke winked at Feeney while purposely avoiding her glare. “Folks in the city can’t be bothered with s
o much as a ‘good morning.’ Everyone is staring at their phones or hooked up to their iPads. They avoid each other.”
“What’s the real estate like out there? Would Cady be able to find an apartment right away?” Cady looked over to see that Talia was still in the bakery and had wandered over to join the conversation.
“The affordable places aren’t in the safest neighborhoods. No doormen, no locks on the front of the building. Anyone can walk in, which means she’d be sharing the building with vagrants.” Burke frowned sadly at Talia, his expression surely meant to convey concern.
“Don’t worry, most of them are friendly.”
“Oh, for the love of Pete!” The man was a storyteller—that was for darned sure!
“And I don’t even want to tell you about the biggest problem with New York City apartments,” Burke told his ever-increasing audience.
“What problem is that?” Sophie asked him, pretending to wipe down the counter near his elbow.
“The cockroaches. They’re everywhere.” He shuddered.
The women in the group squealed, just as Cady knew Burke had hoped. This was no longer amusing.
“So the first thing I’ll buy is an industrial-sized can of Raid. Big deal. I doubt I’ll be spending much time in my apartment, anyway, what with all the exciting things I’ll be doing.”
“It’s just that these are your friends, and they want to know that you’re safe and happy out there. I feel honor bound to make sure you’re aware of the panhandlers and shysters. Oh, and of course, the pickpockets.”
“I suppose the big, bad city has gangs of homeless children running around like the Artful Dodger?” Cady rolled her eyes. “I guess I’ll just have to keep rolls of cash in my bra, then.”
“Those pickpockets are so skilled, you’ll be lucky if they don’t steal your bra too.”
The entire room erupted in laughter. Cady turned her scowl from Burke to see that he held every single patron in his thrall. Well, she didn’t have to stand here and listen to this. She waited for the noise to subside.
“Thank you, folks. He’ll be here all week.” She clapped her hands and gestured toward Burke, like she was suggesting he take a bow.
Trapped in Tourist Town Page 8
