The Palisade (Lavender Shores)

by Rosalind Abel

  He was the test. And I had even less hope I’d be able to pass the hurdles Andrew presented than any of the ridiculous laws and ordinances the city council could put in our way. Moreover, I wasn’t sure I really wanted to jump over Andrew’s hurdles. It would be so much more pleasurable to crash into him and get lost.

  That notion made me want to stay here forever, and run away as quickly as possible. I hadn’t had feelings for another man outside of pre-sex butterflies for over a decade. I thought I’d burned out whatever receptors caused that to happen. Hadn’t even realized I needed to be on guard anymore.

  When Andrew walked into Lavender Leaves a little before five, it only confirmed how truly fucked I was. He stepped in, glanced around, and then found me. And when he did? Those blue eyes lit up, as did his smile. Sure, maybe somewhere in there he was thinking of the sex we’d have later, but… maybe not. He actually seemed happy to see me, relieved I was waiting for him. Had to be in my mind. We didn’t know each other. He couldn’t feel that way. Not really.

  Then I realized I was smiling and willing to bet my smile matched his.

  Maybe he was truly happy to see me, because I, sure as fuck, liked seeing him.

  “Why hello, Mr. Kelly! Can I get you your usual?”

  Andrew looked away from me to address the old coffee queen, and I instantly wanted his gaze back on me. Just me.

  Ridiculous.

  “Nah, thanks, Pete. I’m just dropping in.”

  Pete’s gaze darted at me then back to Andrew. “This pretty guy your fella?”

  There was that blush, combined with that blue glance at me, then away, then back.

  And there was that lurch in my heart. The one that wasn’t supposed to happen anymore.

  He stuttered at Pete. “Oh, he’s, uh… Joel’s just a…”

  “I am, Pete. I’m his fella.” Even if just for another night.

  The expression that crossed Andrew’s face cut through me. Shock, confusion, embarrassment, and yep, happiness. Clear as day.

  Pete wasn’t affected. “Well good, then. You tell your fella I’m not selling this place to anyone for anything. He’ll have to burn it down around me.”

  Okay, I officially hated Pete.

  “Uhm, I’ll do that.” Andrew gave an awkward nod, crossed the shop to take a seat by me, and then leaned in to whisper. I thought he’d comment about my claiming to be his fella, of all things—where the fuck had that come from? He didn’t. “You offered to buy Lavender Leaves?”

  I hesitated just a moment, unsure how much to say. Things had already been close to out-and-out lying to him, which I’d never intended. Better to be as honest as I could. “Yeah. You’re the one who said there could be only one coffee shop. Is there a law against someone buying one that’s already here?”

  He seemed to consider and then shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. That’s actually a good solution, one I hadn’t thought of. Though probably because I know Pete. Not a chance.”

  “Yes, got that.” I relaxed a bit, glad that truth hadn’t caused a hiccup. “Your showing went okay?”

  Andrew nodded. “Yeah. Better than my ones this morning.” He winked. “Turns out, lesbians are a lot less demanding than gay guys with coffee shop dreams.”

  Without meaning to, I burst out laughing. “I suppose that’s true.”

  His smile widened. “You’ve got a great laugh.”

  I was fairly certain I blushed, which I didn’t think I was capable of. Nor could I remember the last time someone teased me or gave me a hard time. Everything was always, Yes, Mr. Rhodes. Sometimes, but not often, a No, Mr. Rhodes, but then always followed by an I’m sorry, Mr. Rhodes. Dear God, the man truly was killing me. “Say, I’ve been here for so long that my ass is going to fall off if I sit a minute longer. Did the other property come through?” I rushed ahead, surprising myself. “If it didn’t, no big deal. We could grab an early dinner or something.”

  He beamed. “It did. There’s a little more paperwork with this one, but yeah, I can show it to you if you’re interested.” His teasing tone came back. “And either way, let’s get out of here. Your ass is way too fine to fall off.”

  I laughed again. How strangely wonderful.

  Andrew stood and waved toward the counter. “Thanks, Pete. Tell Ruby I hope she feels better.”

  “Sure will and you tell the rest of the Kelly clan we’re sure looking forward to y’all’s Fourth of July party.”

  “Pete, that’s more than a month away.”

  He shrugged. “At my age, that feels like twenty minutes. Hell, I’d better start looking for my stars-and-stripes suspenders tonight.”

  Another goodbye and we were out on the sidewalk. I leaned into Andrew, whispering though Pete couldn’t hear. “Ruby? You’re telling me that guy’s straight?”

  He threw his head back and roared, and then gave a sideways glance through the coffee shop window before whispering back, “Dear God, no. Ruby is Pete’s bloodhound. She’s been at the vet since yesterday.”

  “Oh.” That made more sense. Kinda. “You know when the coffee shop owner’s dog goes to the vet?”

  “It’s a small town.” He shrugged, and then his expression brightened again. “Speaking of, the property I want to show you is about a mile away, and it feels like rain. You okay with going in my truck?”

  “Sure, but it’s not one of the shops downtown?”

  “Nope. You asking about other locations was what made me think about it. I think you’ll love it. Even if you don’t know what kind of shop you want there.”

  Guilt bit at me, as I knew exactly what type of store I’d have there. I pushed it aside. I’d convince Pete to sell. It would all be on the up and up. Maybe, instead of money, he’d want a couple litters of bloodhound puppies. Who knew? Whatever the price, I’d find it.

  The mile drive showed me more of Lavender Shores than I’d seen so far, and suddenly everything made sense. Every inch of the place was out of a fucking storybook. The houses weren’t mansions or anything—nothing like the neighborhood where I grew up in San Francisco— but they were lovely, classic, and stylish, with playful colors and cottage charm. They were surrounded by nearly mystical natural perfection. It was easy to see how someone might visit and get wrapped up in the allure of living here.

  We didn’t speak as we drove, but our silence wasn’t uncomfortable, outside of the constant buzz of attraction, which was pleasant. We’d barely started to drive when I reached over and settled my hand over Andrew’s. We both glanced down—I was nearly as startled as he was—then looked at each other. Luckily, he was driving, so the moment had to pass quickly, but I left my hand on his, captivated by that simple contact. A little terrified as well. Okay, more than a little. But the feel of his skin, his warmth… it made the world slow down, made it quiet in a way I’d never experienced before.

  When Andrew stopped and put the truck into park, I stared at that little house through the windshield, then at him. “Are you serious?”

  “Oh.” Disappointment laced Andrew’s tone. “I thought you’d like it.”

  I turned back to the house. “Are you kidding? It’s perfect. At least from the outside. I can tell it’s not huge, but after what you showed me this morning, I was expecting little more than two matchboxes nailed together.”

  “Well, wait until you see inside.” He sounded excited again.

  I got out of the truck and then paused. The little cottage really was ideal for the vision I had for the new coffee chain. Walls of rounded river rock, weathered logs trimming the door and windows, a wraparound porch, all topped with wooden shingles over the pitched roof and a chimney covered in matching river rock. Again, like stepping into Goldilocks’s cabin. Tall oaks, fir, and pine trees sheltered the north and east sides, but on the west, several hundred yards off, the land fell away to cliffs overlooking the ocean. I followed Andrew up the curved cobbled walkway and paused as he unlocked the door. My veins tingled with the awareness of… something. I wasn’t sure. Whatev
er it was caused me to hold my breath as the door opened. Then I was able to label it—destiny, another sensation I wasn’t familiar with, and one that made utterly no sense.

  Andrew flipped on the lights.

  I froze in the doorway for a heartbeat. The perfection continued inside. Flawless.

  I had to get myself under control. This was about coffee. Ultimately, about billions of dollars. About legacy. Not about a house. My legacy wasn’t attached to this place, other than it being a stepping-stone to the top. I gave Andrew the side-eye. “You do remember I need commercial, right?”

  He grinned. “Yeah. This is both. Ideal for someone to live where they work. Granted, it’s not been used that way for a few decades. It’s just been in the Bryant family, but back in the day, this was Lavender Shore’s bakery. There’s no commercial oven or anything like that. Like I said, it’s been just a house for a long time, but the commercial zoning sticks, since that was its original purpose.

  It was the epitome of log cabins, with a huge open floor plan, though I figured the upstairs, where the bedrooms probably were, was less open. I wouldn’t have to change a thing. It was nearly exactly what I’d have chosen for the new Comfort Coffee brand. Hell, I was going to scrap the logo I’d commissioned and just use a sketch of this place.

  It was out of a dream, though someone else’s dream. I did not dream of cabins, woods, and trees. Mine were of glass, steel, and gold. Not this. Yet… I managed to tear my gaze away from the cabin to look at Andrew. “I can’t believe no one lives here. Who would pass this up?”

  “That’s what I’ve been saying for years.” Andrew gave a laugh, a different kind, and the first hint of hesitation I’d picked up from him in a while. “It belongs to my best friend, Gilbert Bryant. You met his mom Regina this morning.” He made a sweeping gesture at the house. “This was passed down to him from his grandparents. But he’s decided… he’s not the kind to live in Lavender Shores anymore, and he’s talked about selling this place for a long time. I called him to make sure it was something he really wanted to do. It is.”

  I was almost giddy—talk about passing my father’s test with flying colors. The only hoop to jump through was stubborn fucking Pete. But something about Andrew’s tone bothered me, and it sapped some of my excitement over the place. “Are you okay? Were you hoping to buy this place for yourself or something?”

  “No. I’d never considered that. Though it’s gorgeous.” He shrugged and then seemed to force a smile. “I’m okay. I always hoped Gilbert would move back. But if he’s not going to live here, then I’m glad it’s you.” His cheeks flared brighter than I’d seen yet, and he suddenly sounded panicked. “Not that I’m expecting anything from you. I just meant… Shit, sorry.”

  All thoughts vanished other than a desire to erase his embarrassment and nervousness. Both things I was causing for no reason. I wanted to take them away from him. Two steps and I wrapped him in my arms. “It’s okay. I think we don’t quite know what to do with what we’re feeling.”

  His arms circled around my back, and his jaw tucked into my neck. “You are too?”

  I nodded but couldn’t speak. Realization after realization slammed into me. Not only was what I’d just said true, completely true, but I’d said it out loud. To a man I’d known less than a day. To a man I didn’t know at all. Maybe if we hadn’t touched, I could take those words back, but not with his head so close to my heart. Wanted or not, understood or not, there were feelings. Feelings that were way too sudden and way too illogical.

  But none of that stopped it from being true. Or terrifying.

  Then I realized what Andrew had said. If it wasn’t his friend living here, he was glad it would be me.

  Andrew thought I was moving to Lavender Shores.

  How I hadn’t seen that connection made me question my intelligence. Of course, he did.

  Even as we’d discussed that issue in his office, I’d leaped to having an employee live here, owner in name only, not even playing with the idea that I’d leave San Francisco. The thought was so ludicrous it was laughable. It hadn’t even been a consideration. But of course, Andrew didn’t know that. How could he?

  Oh, holy fuck.

  I had no idea what was happening between us. I knew it couldn’t go anywhere. It didn’t have a chance. It was bad enough that the end goal was to turn Comfort Coffee into a chain, but now… I realized what he thought. What I’d unintentionally caused him to think.

  I should tell him. Pull away from the embrace and tell him that it wouldn’t be me living here.

  But then this would end. Whatever this was. He’d step out of my arms and not return. It would be over. And if all we had was one more day, I wanted that.

  I pulled him closer, and he sighed.

  Another thought—if I told him now, I wouldn’t have a chance at the property, and I’d completely fail on this deal. It would take years to get another opportunity at solidifying things with my father.

  I pushed away that idea, that fear. Easily. Too easily. While Andrew was in my arms, the only thing that mattered was being able to spend every moment I could with him. I’d worry about my father later. I wouldn’t risk losing a second of my limited time with this man.

  Andrew pulled away and I searched the little cottage for anything to distract. I didn’t want to have to talk about any of it or lie to him more than I already had, whether it had been intentional or not.

  Then I found it. The sigh that escaped me was of both relief and wonder. “Holy shit.”

  Andrew looked at my face and then followed my gaze to the large window on the other side of the house. Outside, the forest stopped abruptly in an arch—a sea of purple flowers over massive dark stone cliffs that dove into the ocean.

  Pride filled his voice as he spoke. “That’s the palisade.”

  I didn’t take my eyes off the view as we walked to the window, but my hand instinctively reached for Andrew’s. “Palisade? The cliffs?”

  “Yeah. That’s what they’re called.” His voice lifted. “I’ll take you down there. It’s my favorite place in Lavender Shores. Well, technically, this house is on the edge of Lavender Shores. Everything else is Point Reyes National Seashore, but still, it’s part of home to me.”

  It looked like a dream. The late afternoon sun hung low, changing to the yolky yellow of early sunset. A mist formed over the ocean, and the purple flowers carpeted the cliffs.

  Andrew stood at the window, and I took my place at his back, wrapping my arms around him once more, captured by the magic of the view. More so by the magic of holding him in my arms. How was I supposed to let him go?

  The mass of purple flowers rippled in the slight breeze. “Oh.” My words were barely more than a breath, and I laughed at my own slowness. “Lavender. That’s lavender.”

  He nodded, the motion causing his dark hair to rub against my cheek. I gave in to the temptation of breathing in his clean scent.

  No wonder the town named everything Lavender. This was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen.

  As we stood there, the expected rain finally arrived. Not torrents, just a steady fall of glistening diamonds, completing the magic.

  Andrew’s voice was still a whisper. “I’ll take you there tomorrow when it’s not raining. If you have time before you leave.” He sighed, happily. “That would be a lot sadder if I didn’t know you were coming back.”

  There was the clench of my heart again. So painful I had to swallow to catch my breath. I couldn’t say anything. If I did, it would either be a lie or rip my heart out.

  Seven

  Andrew

  The palisade had been my special place growing up. I would go there to think, to dream. To wonder if something was wrong with me when most of the other kids in my graduating class dreamed of leaving our small town and rushing off to San Fran, New York, or a million other cities that had much more exciting things to offer than tiny shops, forests, and cold beaches. I never had those dreams. I tried to make myself. Even attempte
d rock-star fantasies. They never lasted more than a moment. Hell, I’d made it a solitary semester in college before rushing home.

  The rest of the world was fine, but Lavender Shores was in my blood. In my twenties, I’d still sit at the top of the palisade, staring out at the sea, and dream of a man coming to town and loving me. Of fulfilling my fantasies of house, home, picket fence, kids, and a dog. Maybe a hamster or two. Though I’d never admit as a grown man to being such a sick romantic, I’d picture Sandra Bullock in Practical Magic, casting her spell up to the stars, calling her perfect lover to her. I didn’t have a spell, but I’d pick the petals from the lavender and toss them over the cliff, watching them fall or sometimes get caught up in the breeze. Each one carried a small vision of what I hoped my future would be.

  Those fantasies dried up with each little heartbreak and were pounded into dust by the larger ones. But still, I’d visit the palisade, and for a moment, I’d feel a man’s strong arms around me, the scruff on his cheek scratch against mine. Maybe that would never happen in real life, but in those moments, in the beautiful, sad moments, those sensations were enough.

  As Joel pulled me against him, his warm breath tickling my skin as we watched the rain over the lavender and sinking sun, I held my tears at bay.

  He’d come. Just like the sheriff with his two-colored eyes and his shiny pointed star had answered Sandra’s spell.

  He’d come. Strong arms around my chest, around my heart.

  We weren’t on the cliff like I’d pictured, but this was better. The palisade was there, and we were in a home I loved. Though I knew it would hurt later, hurt so much, I let myself get lost in the illusion that Joel Rhodes was actually my man, and this was our house; we would love, build a home, raise a family, and grow old—all by the forest, the sea, and the lavender cliffs.

  I twisted away from the window and captured Joel’s mouth with mine. Pouring every bit of those years of longing into the kiss. Searing every sensation to my mind. The feel of his large strong hands, one on my neck, the other on the small of my back, pulling me to him, seemingly unable to get me close enough. His small gasps told me he was as caught up as I was. My heart soared higher and freer than I’d dared to hope.