Caught Up in You

by Kim Boykin

  Danny gave Holly a look. She was absolutely glowing and not because she was in Declan Enright’s presence. Danny smiled and pulled her closer. “Yeah, the baby was a surprise, but we’re happy. How about you? I hear you’re back. You staying?”

  “Not sure about that.”

  Of course, Shelby thought. A guy like Declan would probably go nuts after a few months of living in a tiny place like Magnolia Bay. He might not even last that long. “I’m renting the Renault place, but I still have my apartment in the city.”

  Okay, tuck that little tidbit away. One foot out the door already. Definitely take him off the list of possible candidates for husband. If Shelby ever got around to making that list. Since she’d returned from Florida, a million other things had taken precedence.

  “Hey, Shelby. You with this guy now?” Danny said.

  “Honey,” Holly said, elbowing him, “that’s personal.”

  “So.” He shrugged, “They look good together.”

  “No.” This was getting awkward. “We’re just having dinner.” Shelby looked at the menus Holly was clutching to her chest.

  “Oh, right. I forgot. These hormones are making me an idiot. I’ll just show you to your table now.” Holly headed to a cozy little table for two that overlooked the marina. “Relax. Enjoy.”

  Yeah, Shelby needed to relax. She looked down at her menu, big smile, almost laughing. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen that before.”

  “Seen what?”

  Declan had to know the way he affected women. Didn’t he?

  “Danny’s pretty possessive. Sometimes when the gentlemen tourists get a little handsy with Holly, he’s been known to throw them out of this place. Literally.”

  “First of all, I wasn’t handsy. Second of all, Danny knows I’m no threat to him. Holly and I started out as friends, we’re still friends.”

  “So, what’s that been like for you?” She perused the appetizers, trying to keep a straight face.

  “Seeing Holly?”

  “Seeing the half of Magnolia Bay who dated you and the other half who worshiped you from afar. Most of whom still do.”

  “I’m sorry, how much have you had to drink?” He grinned.

  “Not a drop,” she said, laughing, hiding behind her menu. “It’s just at book club—the other night.” Oh, God, she was going to lose it.

  “Stop covering up, I want to look at you.” He took the menu away, smiling. “And stop laughing, and say what you have to say.”

  “There’s a pool.”

  She reached for the menu and he grabbed her hand. She halfheartedly tried to take it back, but he held on. He raised his eyebrows. “What about this pool?”

  “How many of your old girlfriends will you—you know.”

  “No, I don’t know. What?”

  “You’ll reconnect with, so to speak.”

  He threaded his hand in hers. “And did you place a bet?”

  “Are you kidding? The winner takes home four hundred dollars.”

  “And what did you bet? As I recall, you were four years behind me in school. I highly doubt you were paying any attention to me or who I dated.”

  Or bedded. But you’d be wrong. She’d hated every girl she’d seen him with when they were in college. And she felt like she’d been kicked in the stomach when she heard he’d given Holly an engagement ring. A few years later, she would have bet big money she was completely over him, until he got engaged to Denise. Even twelve years after the night he’d rescued Shelby, his engagement to the model-actress chick had given her pause. “Or put a ring on it, but yes,” she said. “I paid attention.”

  “So, what number did you choose in the pool?”

  She snatched away the menu, hiding her grin that was so big, her face hurt. “Twelve,” she squeaked.

  He pushed the menu down until it was in her lap. “And how about connecting with new girls? Was there a pool for that?”

  She nodded, tears streaming down her face from holding in the laughter. “Mrs. Scott had the best bet.”

  “My tenth grade geometry teacher? Are you kidding me?” She shook her head, full-blown laughter. “What was her bet?”

  “In-fin-i-ty,”she snorted the end of the word.

  Declan snagged the waiter when he went by. “When you get a minute, I really need a drink.”

  Chapter Eight

  It was just dinner. Dinner with those shoes and the long gorgeous legs attached to them. And Shelby.

  Best part of the night? Hard to say, but carrying her to the steps had to be right up there with the way she’d smiled at him as he’d signed that receipt for those shoes. He could have been signing his life away, and he wouldn’t have known it. She was captivating. Intoxicating. And man, he loved hearing her laugh. They’d swapped stories about growing up in the Bay, and before Declan knew it, three hours had passed.

  There were still a few customers in the dining room, some in the bar. When Danny announced he was closing up for the night, people started finishing up their drinks and closing out their tabs. Declan motioned for the waiter to bring the check. He was having a good time; Shelby seemed to be too. They’d shared two bottles of wine with dinner, and she was definitely tipsy. Cute tipsy.

  That was okay, Magnolia Bay was so small, both of them could walk to their homes in just a few minutes. Except Shelby was still in those shoes. And he didn’t want her to go home. To her home.

  “I probably shouldn’t drive.” He nursed his bourbon while she devoured Danny’s special tiramisu. Taking time to savor every bite.

  “Don’t look at me, I’m pretty toasted,” she said laughing. And yet, as she ate the last bite, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He wanted to kiss her. Taste her. “Mmm,” she sighed. “So good.”

  Did she know she was making him crazy with her little sounds and that face that he’d bet was pretty close to her O face? He’d like to see for himself. And then he wanted to paint her. He’d committed every nuance about her to memory and wouldn’t need her to sit for him. But her? Sitting for him? Definitely a turn-on. Although she was a little too tipsy, so none of that was happening tonight.

  They could head to one of the bars to listen to some music or just talk. Whatever the case, he wasn’t ready for the evening to end, and would gladly take whatever she would give him.

  “We could go to Bottoms Up if you want, or the Sand Bar has a band tonight.” When he reached for her hand, she looked at his fingers threaded in hers and was still laughing. “Or we could walk to my house.” She wasn’t laughing anymore and seemed more wary than willing to see where this thing between the two of them was going. “Maybe sit on the piazza. Talk some more. Look at the moon.”

  “I’d better not.” She made a halfhearted effort to take her hand back and then looked at him with those green soulful eyes. “This was fun, Declan, but—.”

  “But what?”

  “It’s not what I’m looking for.”

  He nodded. “You’re saying I’m not what you’re looking for.”

  “I don’t mean anything by it. And, by the way, I didn’t charge your credit card for the shoes.”

  “What? Wait, I signed the receipt.” While his eyes were glued to her legs.

  “You should probably pay better attention to what you sign. It was just blank cash register tape.” She shrugged, took them off, and pulled a pair of flip-flops out of her handbag to presumably walk home.

  “But I wanted to buy them for you, Shelby.” He motioned to the shoes as she slipped them into her giant purse. “What’s the problem?”

  “It’s just that I’m me and you’re—you.” More blushing. “Is it hot in here?”

  “It’s called chemistry.” And he definitely felt the heat between them. Wasn’t that enough for her? Maybe he’d noticed their chemistry, and she hadn’t. But how could she not? “And what does I’m me and you’re you even mean?”

  “It means you’re a big famous artist who’s most likely here temporarily, and I’m not. And we definitely do no
t have chemistry,” she said, like she was bound and determined to convince him. “And please don’t let me drink any more wine. I’ve had too much already. I should probably just shut up now. Definitely shut up now. I—.” She clamped her hand over her mouth.

  “No, continue. Please.” He glanced down at the ice cubes swirling around in his glass. Yeah, this was going to sting.

  “It means you’ve known half of Magnolia Bay, which I have to say is more than a little intimidating. Can I please shut up now?”

  “No, Shelby, I really want to know what you think about me.”

  “Okay, since it doesn’t appear that I can stop myself. And you’re the—.”

  “The what?”

  “It’s not nice. I don’t want to say it.”

  “Say it.”

  “The Runaway Groom of Magnolia Bay. And you know what, Declan? I’ve had just enough to drink to admit that I am actively seeking a groom, but you? You scare the hell out of me.” The moment the waiter took her dessert plate away, she was facedown on the table. Groaning. “God, I’m such an idiot. This wasn’t even a date, and I was so nervous, I drank too much and now I can’t shut up.”

  He crooked a finger and turned her chin up to face him. Her face was flush, and she was quite possibly the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

  “I like you, Shelby. But you’re wrong about me; and you’re exaggerating about the other women.”

  “Promise?” She licked her lips that were a little pouty. She was adorable and sexy and very tipsy. Yeah, taking her to his place wasn’t a good idea right now. Not that he didn’t want her. He did. If she’d let him, he’d walk her home, and if she said no to that, he’d get one of the Pedicabs to take her home.

  “Declan Enright,” a very familiar voice growled.

  Denise Marie Holcomb Stout strutted across the room with a drink in her hand and came to stand beside their table. “So, it’s true. You are back in town.” Her very brawny date joined her.

  “Hello, Denise,” Declan said.

  She always did have perfect timing, and taste. She was dressed in some kind of short flowy dress and platform heels that made Shelby’s shoes look like flats. Part Irish. Part Italian. All gorgeous. All temper.

  He hadn’t seen her since he left her at the altar four years ago. He’d tried to reconnect, to apologize in person, on the phone, but he either got a door slammed in his face or hung up on. After a while, he quit trying. Sure, he’d deserved all of that and more, but by now, he’d thought she would have seen it would never have worked out between them. Their problem was things were so good in bed, neither of them wanted to recognize one huge glaring difference. He wouldn’t give up living in New York for her, and she had no intention of ever leaving Magnolia Bay for him. “You’re looking well, Denise.”

  “Come on, babe, let’s go.” Her date pushed her hair to the side and kissed her neck possessively, while glaring at Declan. That was fine by him; the guy could have her.

  “Hi, Denise, love the shoes. I told you that dress would look adorable on you.” It was kind of cute that Shelby seemed to be trying to save him by distracting Denise. “But you really should have bought that cream-colored lace number you tried on. It’s on sale now, you know. Twenty-five per—.”

  “Zip it, Shelby,” Denise bit out.

  “Don’t talk to her that way.” Declan barely had the last word out of his mouth before Denise tossed Shelby’s wine in his face. Okay, he had left the woman at the altar. He had that coming. But four years later?

  “What the hell did you do that for?” Shelby yelped.

  “I wasn’t about to waste my drink on him, and you should run from this one, Shelby.” Denise turned up the rest of her drink and slammed it down on the table. “He sucks at love.”

  Which was exactly what she’d screamed at him the day he’d exited the church.

  Maybe it was just the wine talking, but Denise was right. Shelby should have run as fast and as far away from Declan Enright as possible, but she’d have to leave Magnolia Bay for that. Nope. Not happening. And Declan? Unfortunately, her lady parts turned cartwheels every time she got near him, and when he’d threaded his fingers in hers, she’d felt more than connected by just sinew and bone. Yes, this was bad, very bad.

  But taking a Pedicab ride home, alone, will sober a girl up fast. Well, she was almost sober. Maybe when she woke up tomorrow, she would feel differently about Declan. She wanted to like him, but that was it. Okay, she did like him. The problem was he’d seemed so sincere when he said he’d changed. And the other problem was Denise was so angry and very sure that Declan Enright really did suck at love. Did Shelby really want to take a chance on walking in Denise’s perilous shoes?

  The Pedicab came to a stop in front of her house, and the driver offered to walk her to the door. She waved him off and said she was fine, but she wasn’t fine.

  Okay, note to self. If she ever saw Declan again, she would pretend she was a tree or maybe that she had amnesia. Thank God, she hadn’t mentioned that night he’d rescued her, but had she really told Declan Enright she was husband hunting? Oh, how she wished he had amnesia.

  “Got your text,” Chelsea said the moment Shelby walked through the door. She was eating one of those huge Kitchen Sink cookies Stacia sold at Bay City Beans, the ones with extra chocolate. “You went on a date with my boss?”

  “You sit in a chair for him motionless, I’d hardly call him your boss. Besides it was just dinner.”

  “Maybe, but you’re all flushed and a new pair of shoes is peeking out of your purse. I’d say it was more than just dinner.”

  “Nope. Not really.” Although for about three blissful hours, it had seemed like more.

  “Good, then you won’t mind if I ask him out?” Chelsea opened the fridge and rummaged around until she found the bottle of pinot they opened the night before.

  “What?”

  “He’s gorgeous, and I’ll probably be getting naked for him at some point. It would be a lot less awkward if we’d spent some quality time together, don’t you think?”

  “But you’re married.” Chelsea’s smirk said she was just yanking Shelby’s chain. “Oh. You weren’t serious.”

  Chelsea shoved another cookie in her mouth. Eyes brimming with tears. Maybe she wasn’t joking.

  “He texted me. Today,” she said.

  “Declan?”

  “Matt,” she squeaked.

  “Oh, honey, that’s great.” Chelsea gave Shelby a very teary stinkeye. “Okay, clearly, that’s not great.”

  “Nothing’s changed. I still want what I want, and he just doesn’t.” Chelsea’s voice was ragged. “Cookie?” Shelby shouldn’t; she really shouldn’t. But it’s rude to say no when your baby sister is grieving with really good cookies. “The Chicks said you blew them off too. You know it was blues night, don’t you?”

  Yes, all of the Chicks were supposed to go out to the Awendaw Green, their first girls’ night out to celebrate Miranda’s impending wedding to Logan Mauldin. Shelby loved the place. It was a little gem up Highway 17 and the coolest music venue in the Lowcountry. There wasn’t much to it, just a glorified stage shaded by hundred-and-fifty-year-old oaks, and good music. Mostly bluegrass, Southern rock and roll, the blues. People brought coolers and built bonfires; it was always lots of fun.

  “Stop worrying about me, Chelsea. You needed to do something fun. Take your mind off of Matt.”

  “Sometimes, I think, look at me, I’m starting to get over him, and then I’ll see a Pampers commercial, and I’m right back where I started. I should have gone to the Green with the Chicks. They asked.”

  Yeah, Shelby wished she’d gone with them too. She’d be a whole lot better off than she was now, feeling like an idiot for getting nervous and then drinking too much. Watching Denise in action was unsettling at best. And oh, God, the whole husband hunting thing. She should just crawl under her very cute rug she got at Pier One for half price and never come out.

  Headlights shone in the livin
g room window. There was a rapid succession of car doors opening and slamming shut and then the Chicks streamed into the living room. Darcy, Hannah, Stacia, Dusty and Emma, with Miranda leading the pack, wearing a blinking Bride tiara.

  “Oh, my, God, did I miss your bachelorette party? Nobody told me,” Shelby said. Yep, the night just kept getting worse and worse.

  “Relax, sugar. I’m just practicing.” Miranda gave Shelby a hug, almost losing her tiara.

  “Looks good on you,” Shelby said, putting it back in place. But it probably wasn’t good for Chelsea who’d worn the exact same model just a few weeks ago. Chelsea had known the rest of the Chicks most of her life but had yet to meet Darcy who’d married Trent Mauldin in a gorgeous New Years Eve wedding. When Shelby introduced the new bride, Chelsea had just nodded and stuffed another cookie in her mouth.

  “We couldn’t settle on a designated driver, so none of us drank,” Miranda drawled. “Danced up a storm though. Sure could use a glass of wine.”

  “She’s out of everything,” Chelsea said, pouring the last of the pinot into her glass, “has cookies and mustard. And tap water.”

  “That’s not true. I just went to the grocery—.” Shelby yanked open the refrigerator door. Chelsea was definitely on the Reverse Breakup Diet.

  The only thing Shelby hated more than going to the grocery store, well, she wasn’t sure what that might be. But Chelsea was living here now. How long was anybody’s guess. After the Chicks were gone, Shelby would tell her baby sister, she had two feet and a debit card. She could run by the Piggly Wiggly just as good as Shelby.

  “Tell Shelby the real reason we’re here,” Dusty said.

  Hannah pulled out her phone and started scrolling. Oh, shit, this couldn’t be good. “It’s all over Facebook. There’s even a snippet on Tumblr.”

  Shelby’s face burned bright. Even though she’d bet her last cookie there were no embarrassing pictures of her on the internet, no one wants to hear those words. Hannah pressed Play; the video showed Denise headed for her and Declan’s table. Either the person who took the video knew what was coming, or they’d wished they had done the same thing.