“You tend towards taking care of everyone—everything—like now.”
His stilted smile told her she hurt his feelings. “Taking care of my own business. Win-win. You’ll see.”
She forced the fork to her mouth and chewed, choosing her words carefully. “I’m sure it will be. I admire your business sense. So shoot.”
She leaned against the back of the stool, trying for casual. Only her churning insides weren’t picking up on the trying-for-causal message, as she pushed her toe against the front of the bar to swing her seat around to face Gray. Face Gray to find out what the hell he’d dreamt up this time.
Chapter 11
Gray studied Lee’s face. She tried to show confidence and bravery with her half smile, but the shadows in her eyes showed her suspicion.
What he liked about her. Her bravado at trying for an I-can-do-this attitude. What he didn’t so much care about was her reluctance to trust, thwart everything in her path, and throw around her I-can-do-this-on-my-own surliness. Contraction? Yeah.
Who didn’t need help at some point? As if he should talk. He and Lee were a bit too much alike.
He got it. Mindi told him about her search for Lee. How her own father had been beyond unreasonable when her sister got pregnant. How he’d wanted nothing to do with his grandchild, despite the wealth to hire someone else to take care of Lauralee. How she’d been shuffled from adoptive home, given up again and thrust into foster homes, some caring but unable to handle a teenager, others abusive.
Her grandfather had given her away the day Lee was born. The day Missy died.
Gray’s agony had been the verbal beatings—live up to your legacy, son. Never Gray or Grayson. Never a pat on the back. Always stupid move, or what were you thinking, or how dare you tarnish the family name.
Lee had no clue Gray knew about her childhood. He waited for her to show her trust, so he could broach the subject, tell her he understood because of some warped and shared experience. Now wasn’t the time to spill his guts, like he’d planned to over dinner at his place. He’d chickened out. Okay, he’d freaked out with her questions about his grandfather. If she found out about his wealth and the real reason he escaped to Maine, she’d never accept his help.
For some reason, helping her had turned into a mission to keep her in Serenity Harbor. When she wasn’t tense and tight-lipped, her creative spirit sparked. She breezed through conversation, until she censored herself. She smiled. He wanted to help her wash away her fears and doubts and live to smile all the time. Because when she smiled, he smiled.
He couched his next words to appear self-serving and business-like. “Now we’re slow. Soon, the surge of leaf-peepers descends.” Her brow furrowed. “The retired or wealthy who like the clean, crisp autumn air and spectacular color of changing trees. And, look for five-star accommodations without the chaos of family-filled summer tourist traps.”
“I get it—leaf-peepers. The ones we want to attract to our businesses.”
“Hoping they’ll love this place enough to come back year after year. They’re the ones who’ll take a little piece of Maine back with them—like a painting by a local artist.”
“How do we make them want their own little piece of Maine?”
He flashed a palm and a teasing smile. “I know the type. I was brought up among art connoisseurs. They want to believe they discovered an unknown artist and lord it over their city friends.”
“Really? People do that?”
“Oh yeah.”
“What next?”
“Remember my idea of a reception honoring the Mindi I bought for the Grille?”
The grin spread across her face. “Loved the idea of showing off Mindi’s work.”
His eyes widened. “We. Go. Bigger. Soup Night—or our own take on the Detroit Soup Night idea. Community coming together to raise money for a cause.”
“I’m—Ocean’s End isn’t a cause.”
“Purely selfish. If you go out of business it affects me, Brewsters, and a whole lot of businesses up and down Ocean Avenue. We’re all a cause, if you think about it.”
“What’s your plan?”
“A crowdfunding gala to help save the gallery. Brings business to the Starlight. Boosts your business presence and your artists.”
Lee straightened. “Isn’t it a bit public—letting everyone know Mindi’s, ah my, business is in trouble?”
Gray squeezed her hand. “Every business in this town has had troubles. Spin the event as moving the business to the next level.”
The corners of her mouth quirked higher in a show of hope. “This will work?”
“You bet. It means publicity for all the business owners.”
She tilted her head, her brow creased. “How?”
“Reception here. I donate food and get publicity. We’ve got micro-breweries and vineyards who can donate. Smaller businesses can pony up door prizes—anything from five dollar coupons for coffee to little items to brand their business. They all get publicity. The gallery gets the proceeds.”
Lee laughed, her eyes sparkling. “I like it.” She reached into her bag and rummaged around. “I need to jot down notes, make lists.”
“I’ll grab the computer.” Gray returned from his office and set up the laptop on the bar between them.
“Where to start? Guest list. Everyone in town already knows about the local businesses. And many will hopefully donate. How do we get those leaf-peepers to come?”
“Entice them with sizzle—a lineup of local artists. Talk them up. Unveil Mindi’s landscape as lost treasure found in the attic.” He held up his palm when she tossed him a look. “Partially true—boxed and stored upstairs—it’s close enough to being an attic.”
Lee turned to rest her elbows on the bar and her chin on her interlocked hands. She glanced sideways. “And? I know there’s more. I can see it in your eyes. You’re up to something.”
“We get the word out through all the resorts in town. I talk them into footing the ticket price as part of their reservation package. We bill the event as be the first to discover….”
“What?”
“Bring back an unknown artist to the big city—wow your friends with Maine folk art.”
“This will work?”
“The huge egos of people who live to one-up their friends. Believe it.”
“But how can we make money? The ticket price can’t be too much.”
Gray reached over and covered her hands in his palm. “It will work. We go for twenty dollars a person. We can pack in over a hundred for a cocktail party, by clearing out most of the furniture. Luke plays in the background. We loosen them up with good food and drink. Then we unveil….” He squared his hands to frame her as if through a camera lens. “The Mindi.”
Lee almost crossed her eyes, then laughed. Her belly laugh went straight through him. “The Mindi?”
“Yup.”
She swung her bar stool toward him, until her knees brushed his. And the echoes of her laughter that had coursed through him now turned to molten heat.
Her laughter, tuned down to a nervous giggle as she shifted, the movement now wedging their knees together. A vacuum hit his brain at the warmth of her touch, sucking out all thoughts of anything except touching her. All of her. He fingered an errant autumn red curl at the nape of her neck—fire and gold shimmering in the muted lights from the bar. As she moved forward, their lips inches apart, her eyes sparkled. Her naked red lashes, a change from her usual mascaraed brown, fluttered like a butterfly intent on landing, before her eyes went wide and inviting. Cupping the back of her neck, he pressed his mouth against hers. Gentle. Testing the waters before he deepened the kiss.
She didn’t pull back, as he moved his tongue along the seam of her mouth until she opened. Her palms pressed warm against his biceps. His knees spread to encompass hers. He ached to pull her so close there was no room for air. Feel her warmth. Taste the spice of jalapenos and rum and Lee.
Hands tightening around his arms, she opened to him. And in
those moments all thoughts of business and tourists and paintings were replaced with a longing to have this woman in his life. Maybe forever.
Forever. The word churned through his brain and pumped through his veins. Warm and right. For the first time ever, he thought he might be able to share his life with someone else.
He couldn’t say why, except Lee settled him. Made him want to be the kind of man she could trust enough to let in. Made him want to spill every ugly secret he held so close.
As if the raging feelings scorched each of them, they drew back and stared at the other. Gray swallowed a groan at the interruption. Tried to cool his fired-up libido and remember what they had been discussing.
“I—ah—the idea.”
“The idea.” She mimicked his words as if she couldn’t form her own.
He knew the feeling, as each sought safety against the solid back of their bar stools.
She turned back to the computer, her fingers poised above their to-do list. “Date?”
It took the beat of a few seconds to wrap his mind around her question. “Three weeks from Saturday. Second weekend in October.”
“Too fast. We can’t make this happen.”
“Have to. A good wind and rain storm and the leaves are gone. So are the leaf-peepers.”
“Okay—lists and assignments. I’ll head across the street and work on them so you can close up.” She shoved back from the bar.
“Not until you finish your burger. And dessert.”
“I—ah, I can’t.” She took a deep breath as she eyed the half-eaten burger.
Damn. “Lee, you’re not fat. You’re not even close. To me—” Shit. He looked away before he stood. “Eat the burger. I’m making dessert.”
Lee stood too. “No. I need to go.”
His fingers wrapped around her wrist. Say it. Tell her. “Lee, to me you’re perfect the way you are.”
She glanced up, her expression softening. “Not why I’m leaving. I’ve work to do.” She gestured at his computer and the notes she’d scratched out on a napkin. Despite her words he knew she lied.
“Stay. I want the company.”
She sucked in a deep sigh, as he counted off the seconds before she sat. “Work on your burger. We can wait on dessert.” He pulled the computer between them. “We can make lists together. Deal?”
She took a bite and moaned. For a flash, he wished she was nibbling on him. Her gaze caught his and her pleasurable expression turned to guilt. If he ever got his hands on the fuckers who’d made her feel bad about herself, he’d kill them.
Chapter 12
For Lauralee the next few weeks flew by in a blur.
Mindi remained the same—good one minute and back in the past another. Lauralee stopped by every day—the visits taking their toll, as Mindi’s memories were about her childhood and she didn’t call Lauralee Missy anymore.
Time was running out to find her father. Her search was put on hold as Lauralee kept her head down, fixed up the gallery, worked on the apartment, and helped plan the reception. She and Gray enjoyed occasional late dinners and a few stolen kisses. Lauralee hadn’t let things progress beyond those. Okay, she couldn’t deny Gray had tried. And she had wanted to allow herself to escalate the growing relationship, but not with so many uncertainties. She was used to moving on…often. Until she knew if their crowdfunding plan would work, she held tight her hope for a future in Serenity Harbor, and her want for Gray.
Reception night arrived. Exhaustion etched Lauralee’s eyes as she applied makeup.
She smoothed the skirts of her knee length, little black dress. She’d never owned one before. She couldn’t beat the price at Carol’s Next-to-New. The slim skirt accentuated every curve. She told herself the black slimmed her down. Reality was, she didn’t look at herself with such distain anymore. Not after meeting Gray who liked her this way.
Digging in Mindi’s jewelry box, she held up a silver necklace adorned with bold porcelain shapes glazed in bright primary colors. It added a little pizzazz to the all-black outfit.
Slipping on a pair of black heels, another score at the next-to-new and inches higher than her usual pumps, she reassessed. As good as it gets.
She grabbed her bright red silk shawl and headed across the street, her tummy fluttering in step with her gait. With everything planned down to minute detail, she pulled forth a positive attitude that the evening would go without a hitch. Still her nerves jangled. She wasn’t so good in crowds. Nor was she adept at speaking with people who outclassed and out-earned her.
Lauralee paused at the curb. Dark had overtaken the little town early, so she watched her step. Gingerly she lifted her heel over the curb, sure one misstep would have her falling flat on her face. In more ways than one. She still wondered why she’d let Gray talk her into this? Hope. That’s why. And if she were honest with herself this whole plan had given her a confidence she’d gone a lifetime without. Thanks to Gray.
She smiled. Gray would have made a stellar con artist. Handsome and sharp-tongued, pulling her into his world without her knowing what hit her. Helping her find the confidence that had always been buried under the self-doubt.
Good thing I trust him.
Lauralee paused outside the entrance to the Starlight. She did trust him. Really trusted him. The thought startled her.
Before she could analyze why, she entered the sultry atmosphere of the Grille, transformed. Her breath caught. All day they’d cleared furniture, strung various sized white bulbs overhead, and draped white gauze inches below the lights. Standing under the twinkling lights, she hadn’t realized the effect until this moment. Tall cocktail tables festooned in long shimmering silver skirts and topped with flickering battery-powered votives ringed the perimeter and added to the modern but intimate atmosphere.
Seven easels rimmed the corner beyond the piano, displaying one piece up for auction from each of their local artists. Wait. Seven? She’d commissioned six artists.
“What do you think?” The deep voice at her back sent shivers up her spine.
Slowly she turned to face Gray, forgetting about easels. “Magical.”
He tugged on the ends of her shawl, pulling her closer. His lips hovered inches from hers. “Exactly. Magical. Look at you.”
The subtle lighting hid the heat pulsing up her neck to her face—she hoped.
His thumb caressed her jaw line, then up her cheek. “I love your blush. You look…stunning.” Then he kissed her. Gentle and sweet, a bare press of his lips, before he stepped back. With his tender hint of a kiss, an overwhelming need to be with Gray shivered down her spine. His sweet kiss sent awareness rushing to her brain. She did trust him. Not only with her business but with her heart.
And that thought terrified her. The only person she’d even given her heart to was her aunt.
The kitchen door banged open, scattering her revelation, and yeah her fear, into the fairytale setting. Out paraded Luke and Belinda, followed by the wait staff, each carrying a case of chilled champagne for the toast to the Mindi and the Ocean’s End.
Luke hollered from the back of the bar as he set down his case. “Times a wasting. Guests arrive shortly.” The spell was broken, until Gray leaned in, nipped her earlobe, and whispered, “Later, Beautiful.”
Need shot straight through her. Her knees threatened to buckle. Anticipation, one more thing in an endless list to make this night agonizingly long.
* * *
Gray scanned the wall-to-wall crowd. Never in his wildest dreams. Outreach to local breweries, wineries, and resorts had worked magic at a time of year when Serenity Harbor was within weeks of rolling up its sidewalks. Each donating business had already received huge publicity from the Gazette and radio stations reaching every corner of Maine.
The smell of money filled the air. Luke flashed him a thumbs up before bending over the keys to tickle out some background music—loud and melodious enough to seep into the depths of souls, but soft enough for the chatter to be heard from one ear to the next.
>
Gray’s gaze scanned the crowd for a red shawl. Then he saw her. Red shawl discarded. Curves in black making his own favorite part stand at attention. Despite his fervent wish for a successful evening—one to bolster Lee’s pocketbook and confidence—he willed the show to go on and wing toward a hasty, profitable end.
Tonight, he planned to make Lee his. And from the affluent gentlemen surrounding her, salivating over her, possession could come none too soon. He started to stride across the room to claim her. Dumb-ass idea. He’d never before developed a caveman mentality for a woman. Until now.
Gray slammed on the brakes to will his cool, professional head to prevail. Lee smiled, chatted, and seemed in her element for a change. If Lee charmed them, the coffers would fill. Her anxiety would decrease. Her trust would build. She’d have time and energy and confidence to give to their relationship.
He stepped behind the bar and stuffed fists into his pockets. As if stilling his hands would stay his need to reach out. Touch her. Breathe in her scent. Nip at the back of her neck. Piece by piece remove her slinky dress and anything underneath it. The heels and necklace he’d leave. Kee-rist. This line of thinking was not helping.
Instead he enlisted Belinda’s help to line up bottles of champagne along the bar, in preparation for the Mindi unveiling.
With Belinda behind the bar ready to pop corks and his wait staff poised to distribute filled flutes, he sauntered toward the mic beside the Mindi.
“Thanks for stopping by tonight.” He waited for the chatter to settle. “Folks, I want to introduce you to Lauralee Adler.” Gray paused, allowing the applause to explode as Lee made her way to the stage with a look to kill arrowed straight at him. Okay, so he hadn’t warned her. Knew she’d do better if he didn’t. Second guessing his decision, he gathered her close to his side and squeezed her waist in a you can do this gesture.
“Many of you know Lee arrived in town a few months ago when her aunt Mindi was hospitalized. Mindi never let on about her illness, so Lee has some rebuilding to do. Now she wants to ensure her aunt’s dream of a gallery to support local Maine artists stays alive.”
Welcome to Serenity Harbor Page 35
