But first he had to battle the shimmer in her eyes—the damp reminder of his arrogance or whatever the hell he’d displayed to piss her off. He caught her hands in his. Pulled her to his chest. Set his chin against the top of her head, to tuck hers against his shoulder. “I’m a grade-A ass. I know you don’t think there’s an us. Just because I want there to be, doesn’t mean I need to bully you about it. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” The murmured word was aimed at his chest, as if she asked for an interpretation of a foreign language.
“I pushed myself on you. Wasn’t straight about the way I feel. I like you…a lot.” He paused. “I was an attorney in the city.”
“You want to tell me about it?”
“Not now. Now I want to kiss you.”
When he didn’t make a move to lower his head and find her mouth, she relaxed against him, soft and warm and maybe willing to listen. Once he got his body under control enough to speak. Despite the baggy T, all her curves pressed against him. The curves she hated. The ones he—
Into hair scented with sunshine, he mumbled. “I’m cooking dinner.” She pulled back to peer around him, as if bags of groceries would appear. “Not here. My place.”
The wariness returned to her eyes, crept across her whole face like a mask of protection. Her arms hugged her waist, folding her shirt material like an accordion at rest. “Why?”
Always why? with her. His own fault for clamming up every time she asked a question. Not being straight with her about his past. “About time I shared.” Without giving her a chance to back out, he tugged on her hand. “Come on. Grab a coat. And a scarf.” Then, he thought better about forcing her to come. Let her think about his share comment. Hopefully feel enticed. He dropped her hand to give her space. “Meet you out front in ten?”
She nodded and his heart flipped over. Gray sprinted down her back steps. He revved up the vintage Mustang. Cranked the heat. Lowered the top. And waited, praying she wouldn’t change her mind.
He let out a breath when she rounded the corner, her autumn-orange hair wisped against her cheeks in the gentle breeze. Her golden whisky flecked with cinnamon eyes bright and wary at the same time, as she saw his mode of transportation—on an Indian summer afternoon soon to turn crisp as the sun lowered. She’d thrown a jacket over her arm, the sixty plus degree sun warming her cheeks to rosy. The scarf curled around her wrist, the ends clutched in her fist.
“Hope you can deal. Wrap your scarf around your head and throw on your jacket. The ocean wind bites.”
She smiled, so wide and welcoming her wariness flashed away. Game on. Time to prove he could be the man she wanted. She claimed she didn’t want anyone or anything, but he knew better. He knew all about wishing for more…passion, love, friendship. Even though he’d been born with a silver spoon, his family hadn’t been emotionally capable of helping him through the bad times. Lee’s passionate soul, like her aunt, was buried deep. Might be too late for Mindi, but hell if he’d let Lee go through life thinking she didn’t deserve more.
Even if more meant him wheedling his way into her life…and having to tell her the truth. Maybe coming clean would set them both free.
Chapter 8
Gray set the large rectangular baking dish on the slate counter. Lee stood on the other side, silhouetted by the now setting sun, drifting low toward the mountain top. She held a glass of merlot from a nearby vineyard, the shards of reflected sunlight dancing across her form-fitting lavender, wrap-around shirt. If he told her she was stunning, she’d turn to him in disbelief. Question his motives. Hell she already did that.
He allowed his smile to lift the corners of his mouth. Damn straight he had motives. Slipping open the ties crisscrossing under her breasts.
“Your dimple is showing. What the hell you thinking?”
He pressed his lips together and lifted his brows. Who me? “You’d never believe me.”
“Not an answer.”
He walked around the counter, lifted the glass from her hand and set it aside, brushed the beautiful red waves back from her face, his hand lingering. “I was thinking how beautiful you are. The exact word—stunning.”
“Stop.” She pushed his hand away.
“Knew it.”
“What?”
“You wouldn’t believe me. Look in the mirror, without thoughts colored by self-doubt.”
“What? I—ah.”
“You know I’m right. If you saw yourself as others do.” Be honest, ass-wipe. “As I do. Lovely.”
Doubt swirled around her like the incoming fog, shrouding her face with a frown. She walked around him, grabbed her wine and headed to the deck spanning the length of his cottage.
Damn. Someone had done a number on her.
He followed with a plate full of thick, marinated steaks, setting them by the built-in outdoor kitchen. What could he say to make her see?
“You planning to feed the town?”
As usual she changed the subject. “Sandwiches. Steak and eggs.” He snagged a Leaf-Peeping Ale, locally brewed, from the summer fridge. “Not home enough to fire up the barbeque. Extras for when Luke and I eat at home.”
“Answer me something. Luke—he calls you Boss. You own the Grille.”
He shrugged, not ready to give away all his secrets.
“Then why bartend?”
“I like being out front.”
“That’s your real reason?”
He turned, fired up the grill, and wondered why the hell he thought opening up to Lee would be a good idea. “I like the anonymity of being one of the folks.” She waited, obviously not satisfied with his answer. Finally he faced her. “Not many people realize I own the place. They think it’s some big corporation out of New York.”
“Is it?”
He nodded.
“So you have a corporation?”
“Me...and Luke. Buying the restaurant was his idea.”
“So he could play his music?”
“Needed space away from the city.”
“And now he’s mowing lawns and making you breakfast?”
“His choice to get out in the gardens. Grew up in the city, without much green space.” Gray grinned, hoping to shy away from more questions about his family and his work in New York.
“So you two formed a corporation, sneaked into town—how long ago?—and bought up the restaurant. What else?”
He strode across the deck to within inches, fingered a gold locket nestled in the V of her wraparound, and inhaled her scent. “You a detective?”
Her breath caught on the intake, before she tempered her features. “Pretty much figured you’re not the run-of-the-mill bartender.”
“Really.” The drawl crept into his voice, making light of her comments, as he dropped the locket back in place. His own self-protective wall rising between them.
“Figured maybe you’d come from some fancy prep school and college, or something….” She pulled back, leaving his hand cold. “When are you going to tell me about your work in the city?”
He sighed and glanced skyward, before facing her. “Defense lawyer.”
“And not the public type. Some high-priced, muckety-muck firm.”
“Oh yeah.”
“And coming to Maine?”
“The usual—running away.” He’d been ready to open up to her. Build her trust. Now, he couldn’t bear to see disgust cloud her eyes when she learned about his last client. “I’m throwing on steaks. Mind grabbing the potato salad and slaw—inside fridge?”
She stared at him—again, like he was a Martian invading earth. Yup, right not to spill his guts about the case curbing a career he never wanted. He turned his back, strode to the grill, and chucked on the steaks. Enough to feed the entire town. He grabbed the foil-wrapped asparagus with lemon butter from the mini fridge and set it on the top rack to steam. And waited for her returning footsteps.
And the questions she hadn’t yet asked. They would come.
* * *
Surprisingly, din
ner was quiet. An occasional—mmm, good.
Lauralee reined in the urge to question and spar with Gray, her way of learning more about him without allowing herself to get too close. Having a friend like Gray scared her.
For now, she’d store away the belly-ache of lust every time they got close. The second she’d set eyes on him, her need for him burrowed deep. The need that walked her over to the Starlight most nights.
With her plate half full, she leaned back. “This was nice.” Her nerves tangled in her gut as he nodded and stuffed another bite. Nerves never seemed to bother him. She craved his confidence. Silence loomed. Nerves hopped and jumped. Say something witty, intelligent, worthy of being here. At. His. Home. His invitation had both startled her and frightened her. She had to mean something to him. Or he never would have let her into his private world. Cooked for her. She knew it wouldn’t be wise to go beyond friendship with a man who outclassed her in every way.
“Nice to get out, away from the back and forth between gallery and apartment. Especially knowing none of this will last.” Shit. Last thing she meant to reveal. And so not witty or intelligent.
He laid down his fork and stared at her. “You leaving?”
She released a long sigh—partly to put him off—and glanced around the room, gathering the courage to look at him. Have this conversation. Pretend he was the friend she needed.
“No…maybe. It’s getting harder—”
“To what?”
She looked at her lap and willed her hands to stop trembling. “Keep Mindi’s dream alive. The gallery was her life. When she first got her diagnosis, she refused to admit she was sick. And now….”
“She didn’t tell you?”
“I would have been here sooner.”
“It’ll take time Lee. You’re coming at this at the time of year when business slows. Have you thought about a website?”
“And who would look at it. Honestly, without a mailing list, it would take all winter to build interest.”
“But by spring, you’d have a following—in time for the tourist season. You think about selling your own work?”
“My work is none of our business.” Her reaction startled both of them. She tossed her napkin on the table. “Sorry. I, ah…. You love Mindi’s work. Mine is so different. How could you—?
“Like them? I do. Yeah, they’re different from Mindi’s. But there’s a market for both.”
She straightened. “Truth?”
He nodded.
“I have a showing in Portland in October.”
“That’s terrific.”
She nodded. “But it might not be soon enough to save the gallery…if I sell any. I’m chewing through my savings to keep her dream alive.”
“Not much left.” His statement strangled her heart. Understatement at best. “Can I help?”
“Not your problem.”
“Every business in this town is my problem.”
“A bit egotistical.”
The smile tweaked his dimple back into place. The one making her weak at the knees, even as she sat.
“The Serenity Harbor Chamber takes care of its members. One business hurts, it affects us all. Ocean’s End is a focal point in this community—draws people to my restaurant, to Brewsters next door, the White Pine Lodge B&B, and the teashop a few blocks away. Even Montgomery’s Lobster Pound. We keep the Serenity Harbor Gazette alive by buying ads from tourist money. Taxes keep the library open. It all goes round, Lee.”
Yeah, she got it.
“Here’s an idea. Your upstairs storage room—ever think about renting it out? Make a great apartment with its ocean view.”
“Oh my god. I was thinking the same thing last night—an open-floor efficiency.”
His face lit. “Like it. Great view from the entire space. Put the kitchen and bathroom on the Ocean Avenue side, so the living/bedroom space faces the view.”
Lee leaned back against the cushioned wicker chair. “Kitchen. Bath. Crap load of money.”
“I’ll call in some favors. We can make deals. I bet’cha Dusty probably has a few outdated appliances taking up space on the sales floor. Jim at the hardware store will pitch in supplies at cost.”
She started to roll her eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure the entire town will jump to help a stranger.”
“Mindi always pitched in. We’ve banded together in everyone’s best interest. Luke and I can supply the labor.”
“Plumbing and electrical and pounding nails? Can’t picture it.”
“Ye of little faith. We wired and plumbed the Starlight. We bring in Bill and Jake to inspect our work, do the final hook-ups, and sign off. You pay for supplies and a couple of hours of their time.”
“Really? It works that way?”
He nodded. “Tomorrow I’ll draw up some plans and cost analysis. Then you’ll see if it’ll work. Bet’cha we get a renter signed with first month’s deposit before the place is finished.”
Lauralee leaned forward, ran her finger up and down the stem of the wineglass. “You think?” He nodded. Hope surged through her.
She could stay in Serenity Harbor. Allow herself to open her own heart to the community and to Gray. She’d never done that before. Never thought she could without getting hurt. Professionally and personally. Now Gray gave her an opportunity to take a chance.
Chapter 9
Gray stood. “Finished? Let’s clear plates.”
Together they stuffed leftovers into the fridge. Lee glanced at Gray as she rinsed and handed off plates to Gray. She quirked a smile at the meticulous way he placed dishes in the highly polished silver monstrosity of a dishwasher.
“What are you looking at? I know how to pack a dishwasher. I used to wash dishes with my grandfather.”
She leaned against the counter. “Your grandfather did dishes? All the men I know stay away from housework.”
“Only when we were—ah, spent summers together. Roughing it without the help.”
“You grew up wealthy?”
He shrugged. “Gram’s death devastated him. He’d get home late from the law firm. The housekeeper kept dinner warm. He wouldn’t have eaten otherwise.”
“You get your work ethic and drive from your grandfather?”
Gray shoved the steak platter into the bottom rack. “S’pose so.”
“What about your parents?”
He raised a brow. “Wasn’t drive—more like obsession.”
“Professionals?”
“Mom, a surgeon, dad…family law firm, senior partner. Thank god for Gloria.”
“Who?”
“Our live-in housekeeper, nanny, mother.”
“Sounds like neither of us had parents. Yours were there, but not. The few I ended up stuck with weren’t parents at all—in it for the bucks. Except my adoptive mom.”
He raised a brow. She’d said too much. With two steps he stood so close his citrus and pepper scent wafted around her. She drew in a breath.
“You loved her.” She nodded. Her throat hitched in pain. God, she didn’t want to do this—cry in front of him thinking about the loss of two mothers, and soon Auntie.
Leaning in a fraction of an inch, his lips met hers, warm and solid. A soft touch here. A nip there. Taking her mind off her childhood. When she thought she couldn’t kiss him any longer without being tempted to leap on him, wrap her arms and legs around him, go where she knew she—they—shouldn’t go, he lifted his head. His palm brushed her cheek and settled. “Want dessert?”
Breathing in a sigh of relief—since, yeah, she didn’t do relationships—Lauralee stepped back to rest her hand against her belly. “Stuffed. Later, maybe.”
He’d mentioned chocolate mousse. The last thing she wanted right now, as he brushed a wisp of hair away from her cheek. Unless she could lick it off his stomach and his— Shit. Do. Not. Go there.
He backed away, as if he could read her thoughts. “You like Serenity Harbor?”
Saved from lustful yearnings. She sucked in a breath to calm her fl
uttering heart. Thank goodness he’d changed the subject. “I do. I feel close to my mother here. Through Mindi.”
“You’ll always have your memories of her.” His arms wrapped her goosebump-pebbled body in his own warmth as if to protect her against the ghosts. She shuddered, before her hands inched up to press against his chest, as she tried to distance herself from his heat and scent and promises of more kisses. “I’m all right. Really. Being here gives me the chance to get to know the mother I never had.”
But Gray held on, somehow knowing she needed comfort, not kisses, and a chance to talk about her mom and her aunt.
“I’m sure watching Mindi is hard. The blessing is her memories of your mom still surface.”
“What could have been,” Lauralee mumbled against his chest. “Mindi rescued me.” His heart rate increased under her palm. She’d said too much.
He hugged her tighter, but didn’t ask.
With reluctance she pushed away from him. His scent, his warmth too much to handle. If she didn’t step away now, she might never let him go.
But he didn’t let her go. Snagging her hand, he pulled her toward the couch. “Chill’s moving in.” The barest of shadows shimmered across the deck, as the sun dipped behind the mountain. And on the horizon of the Atlantic rose the rounded top of the moon. “Brandy and full moon watching?”
She glanced at the ocean, and wished like hell she dared take the next step with him. Trusted in herself enough not to get so wrapped up in falling for him, that she would forget this was a fling and nothing more. She couldn’t make herself say yes. “Gray, this dinner has been nice, but I should go. It’s not—look, I told you I’m not so good at relationships.”
“I’m not in a hurry, Lee. You and I—we can be friends as long as you need. But know I want to be friends…and more. When you’re ready.”
* * *
Gray twisted off the cap and handed Luke a Bar Harbor Thunder Hole ale. He took a swig off his own. “You’re moving.”
Welcome to Serenity Harbor Page 33
