“Have some coffee with me.”
“Uh…” He didn’t look hostile. He wouldn’t bring up the wedding, would he? She should leave, but the stomach flutter at the nearness of his powerful pitcher body, the tightness in her throat as though her lungs were trying to capture and hold his spicy male scent, made her want to stay. She nodded and returned to the living room while Jason went to the kitchen. Coffee aromas wafted into the sunny room. She was perched on the sofa when he arrived and handed her the warm cup. He sat in one of the chairs.
“How’s your elbow?” She’d read that he couldn’t play any more, which made her sad. She’d wanted to call him, but they’d ended on such bad terms at the wedding, it didn’t seem like he’d welcome a phone call. At Christmas he’d avoided being alone with her, and she hesitated bringing it up in front of everyone. “Does it hurt?”
“Nope. Can’t pitch a fast ball any more though. At least not fast enough.”
“I’m so sorry, Jason.”
“Thanks. That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about.”
He wanted to discuss his career with her? Cara shifted to the edge of the sofa. “What’s going on?”
He stared at the floor. “I found out I couldn’t go back to the majors the day of Maya’s wedding.”
She remembered his anger, the way he stormed off, how hurt she’d been at the time. “Oh no! I’m so sorry.” That news made Maya’s wedding day one of the worst of his life. “I had no idea.”
“I know. That’s why I wanted to tell you. I was in a really bad state of mind that day. I acted like such a jerk.”
Her heart constricted. “The whole kiss thing was an accident, and I made it worse by not sorting it out right away. Now to find out you had that awful news hanging over your head makes me feel even worse.”
He frowned. “I overreacted.”
“Well, it’s understandable now.”
He cleared his throat, meeting her gaze. “Now that we have that cleared up, are you seeing someone?”
Did he want to try again? Her heart gave an inappropriate little bump. Remember your MBA, your new job. And remember how many times Jason disappointed you. “No. I’m not seeing anyone. I need to get my career settled before I think about anything like that.”
He frowned, and then nodded.
“So what have you been doing since you can’t go back to baseball?”
“Ah, you know.” He leaned forward and picked up his coffee. His features closed down. Pure Jason retreat mode.
“No.” She drew out the word. “I don’t know. Which is why I just asked you.”
His green eyes shifted to the right. “Stuff.”
Cara fought back a smile. Why could he still charm her? Maybe because he was showing his vulnerable side, which she hadn’t seen in a long time. “What kind of stuff?”
He met her gaze with a sheepish expression. “Cooking.”
Huh? That was the last thing she expected, but then it dawned on her. “Oh, you mean down at the food truck.”
“The food truck…and I’ve been taking classes at Cook it Right in Bar Harbor.”
He really was talking about cooking. Jason Ward a chef? Wow. Cara sat up straighter and leaned forward. “Good for you!”
He watched her closely. “I don’t know where it will lead…”
“Tell me about it.” Cara settled back and sipped the sweet creamy coffee. “How long have you been in school?”
“One year.”
“Are you going for a degree?”
“A certificate. I have it.” A note of pride entered his voice.
“That’s great, Jason. I mean it. I guess it turned out well that you helped Maya at the food truck when you first came back to recuperate. She was desperately shorthanded, and you ended up discovering a new interest. Win win.”
He grinned. “Tell me about you. How was school?”
The last thing she wanted to talk about was her MBA. She smothered a yawn with her hand. “It was okay, but let’s not talk about that right now. This is so nice.”
“You must be tired, but before you go, there’s something I want to say. I’d like to give us another try.”
Did she hear that right? “Another try?” She must be more tired than she thought.
“Yes.” He studied her. “You know, go on dates, see where it leads us. I want to start over.”
“I’m going to Chicago in September.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t have the summer together.”
“But what about me standing on my own two feet?”
“What are you talking about?”
“When we were eighteen, you said, ‘Cara, I don’t want you counting on me.’ Then you left and proceeded to sleep with every woman who crossed your path.” The sting of the memory added an acid edge to her tone. Old news maybe, but never addressed.
Jason cleared his throat. “I didn’t mean for us to break up. I was under a lot of pressure and just starting my baseball career.”
“And?” He shook his head, but she wouldn’t let this go. “Say it, Jason. We’re both adults.”
“You were always talking about getting married. We were kids. I had no idea if my baseball career would take off or not. I didn’t want to fail like my dad.”
“Then why did you become a man-whore and blow all your money?” Oops. Where did that come from? Pent up resentment. That’s where.
Anger flashed in his green eyes. “It wasn’t like that.”
His anger tempered her outrage. She didn’t want to push him completely away. “You hurt me, Jason, and I don’t want to be in that position again.”
His chin came up, and his eyes narrowed. “Very well. Goodbye, Cara.” He stood and strode from the room.
Chapter Two
Jason drove into town and parked in front of Sawyer & Son Hardware on Second and Pine. The cowbell on the door rang, announcing his arrival. Inside the dim interior, three men huddled around the coffeepot in the corner. When Jason’s eyes adjusted, he recognized some of the regulars and waved.
“Hey, Jason!” Jim, the tank manager at McClintock and McClintock Lobster Company, motioned him over.
He didn’t want to talk to anybody today, but he couldn’t be rude. The conversation with Cara yesterday cycled through his head. He needed some good hard physical labor to settle his gut. He was here to get parts, so he could fix the lawn mower, but he didn’t want to offend the gang of older locals, so he ambled over. “Hey, how’s it going?”
They all grunted and nodded.
Samuel, the retired fire chief, said, “How’s your mother doing?”
“Good,” Jason said, automatically.
“Heard your neighbor’s back in town,” KS, the silver-haired former caretaker of the lighthouse said, being his usual troublemaker self.
“Uh-huh,” Jason said.
KS said, “She’s lookin’ mighty fine. Even better than when you were goin’ ’round with her when you was in high school.”
“Yeah, so?” Jason said.
“Well, I’m just sayin’. You used to be our hero. We read about you in the papers with all them gorgeous models. Time was you’d be tappin’ that, not leavin’ it on the side.”
Jason saw red. “Hey, watch the way you talk about her. Time was I’d pop you for sayin’ something like that.”
Jim said, interrupting, “What ya lookin’ for today, Jase?”
Jason unclenched his fists, shifted his glare from KS to Jim. “Lawn mower won’t start.”
“Always going out,” Sam said.
KS shuffled his feet back and forth. “Hey, Jase, I didn’t mean nothin’ by it.”
“Just watch it.”
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Jason stalked over to the lawn-mower aisle and picked up the spark plug he was looking for. At the counter, Jay Sawyer took his money, and Jason headed back to the truck, throwing the small bag on the seat.
KS reminded him of a past he wasn’t proud of. He was
just lucky Cara was still available. He needed to stop blowing it. What was he thinking, walking out on her last night? Her words struck his tender underbelly. I don’t want to be in that position again. He’d taken her words as meaning she didn’t want to depend on him financially because he lost his money and didn’t have a good job. Since then, he’d worked out what she really meant. The way he had interpreted what she said was bogus. She seemed happy for him about his cooking aspirations. She wasn’t referring to his career. No…what she meant was that when it came to their relationship, he had two strikes against him, and she wasn’t betting on him hitting a home run any time soon.
Was walking away last night strike three? Was he out?
Jason parked in front of Sweet Bea’s, a small bakery in a string of shops on Oak Street. Would Cara like a scone? Maybe he could bring one over there. Or invite her to his house. Maybe drop some off for her family and invite Cara over? The smell of baked bread and pastries washed over him.
Beatrice O’Brien, a redhead who’d been a couple years ahead in school, finished helping a customer and turned her green eyes his way. “Hey there, Jason. What can I do for you today?”
“Hey, Bea. Half a dozen scones.”
She grinned. “Any particular kind?”
“Maple.”
“I’ve only got three left.” Bea slid open the pastry cabinet and started adding the scones to a bag.
“Maybe a cheese one.” Jason’s mouth watered. “Couple lemon.”
Bea raised a brow. “No blueberry?”
“Uh…” Dang that sounded good, too. “Okay, blueberry.”
“Instead of lemon?”
“No, plus.” Oh hell, that was too many. “Instead. One lemon, one blueberry, one cheese, three maple.”
“You feeding an army?” Bea bagged the scones, putting the cheese one in a separate bag.
“You should be happy.”
“I am. I hardly see you anymore. No longer shopping for Love Caters All?”
“I made some on my own. They turned out okay, so I made more.”
Bea frowned. “Oh. I’m losing business.”
The bell on the door announced another customer.
“I think you’re doing okay.”
Bea grinned. “Just don’t out sell me. Hi, Jeannie!”
Jason inclined his head to serve as a farewell to Bea and greeting to Jeannie. He headed back up Oak Street, snagging a glance at the bay. Tourists milled around Pier 2 and ambled along the boardwalk. A massive white cruise ship sat anchored farther out while sailboats added color to the blues of sea and sky.
The pastries might work. Last night’s strike might be converted into a ball if he explained himself. And he’d sure as heck be just as glad to walk to first base.
He’d drop a maple one at home for Mom and head next door to the Cruz’s house. Wasn’t the way to a woman’s heart through her stomach?
He didn’t need to score a home run. He didn’t need a fancy win. He’d get home whichever way he could as long as he won Cara back. Too bad his chances hung on whether or not she had yet eaten breakfast. But big games hinged on the smallest details, the most minor of things, so much of the time. Why should love be any different?
****
Jason opened his front door to a hint of Cara’s floral scent lingering in the front hall.
“Hi honey,” Francie called, “I told Cara I’d share my scone.”
Hope flowed through him. Cara was here, and he had a peace offering. “Thank you, Mom.”
Cara sat on the couch with her legs crossed, her long dark hair in a ponytail.
“Hey, Cara.”
“Hey yourself. Don’t worry, I won’t eat half your mom’s scone.”
“You didn’t have breakfast yet?”
“No, but don’t worry.” She laughed a little. “I’m not here to scavenge.”
She was pretending like nothing happened last night. He hadn’t struck out! “You’re in luck.” He held up the bag. “I have enough for you and your family.”
“No way.” Cara pushed off the couch, came over and grabbed the bag. Opening it, she sniffed, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. “Have I ever told you I love you?”
She was kidding, but his throat closed. Yeah, she had said those words, but a long time ago, when they were in high school.
He couldn’t figure out anything to say, so he stayed silent. In the kitchen, he laid out some paper towels on a tray and piled on the scones. “I’ll let you take the other three over to your family.” Jason handed a napkin to his mom and Cara, then offered the tray. “I figure whatever is left over you can take to Pilar and Blanca. Or should I run these over there now?”
“No problem. Mama and Blanca aren’t home. They can have theirs later, or not, depending on if we manage to hold ourselves down to one each.”
He loved that about Cara. She appreciated food. Now if he could get her to appreciate a chef. “Scone okay, Mom?”
“Mmmm,” Mom moaned around a bite. “I don’t think Pilar is gettin’ any.”
“What?” Jason said.
“Oh my gosh, what do you mean she isn’t getting any?”
Francie giggled. “Any scone! What did you think I meant?”
“Mom! You did that on purpose.”
With wide innocent eyes, Francie said, “How did school go, Cara?”
Cara coughed, picked up her napkin, and coughed some more. Well, that was interesting. Had Cara choked because she was thinking about Mom’s remark? Or did something happen at school?
Cara took a sip of water.
Jason deposited his scone on his napkin. “Did something go wrong with finals?”
Cara took another sip of water. “You could say that.”
“Does that mean you didn’t graduate? I thought you had a job lined up.” He held his breath.
“I have to redo my final presentation at the end of the summer. Then start the job. No big deal.”
Cara was definitely taking the job. He heaved himself from the chair. In the kitchen he stuffed the rest of his scone in a plastic bag, his appetite gone.
His mom cleared her throat. “Why don’t you two to go take a walk? It’s a beautiful day, and Cara needs to lose some of that library tan.”
What did he have to offer Cara at this point in his life? Maybe he could talk her into…what? Staying in Lobster Cove.
Cara appeared in the kitchen doorway. “You up for it, Jase?”
“You bet.”
****
The early morning clouds had cleared. Lobster Cove wasn’t such a bad place to end up. If only he could have Cara there with him, he’d never complain. Maybe she’d be tempted to stay if she remembered how nice the summers were. She probably hadn’t taken a proper walk here since she started grad school.
They strolled a mile and a half down the country road, sharing a comfortable silence. Birds called out to each other, and wind stirred the trees. A soft smile played over Cara’s mouth. Her shoulders relaxed, and she breathed deeply. He let her soak up the atmosphere, reluctant to distract her with conversation.
They came to Pine Avenue and made their way down the busier road until they reached the downtown area, making their way past the seafood market and Merlot’s.
A big smile lit Cara’s face. “Oh, Merlot’s Wine Bar. I’ve missed that. Sitting there sipping pinot noir and looking out over the water is on the agenda for this summer.”
There were a lot of things on the agenda, if he had his way. “The gang still gets together there sometimes.”
She tipped her head to the side. “What? Not at Murphy’s Bar?”
“The girls demanded we alternate.”
Her chirp of laughter made him grin. It was so damn relaxing to be with her.
“Good!” She inhaled deeply and raised her face to the sun, closing her eyes. “Ah, the air is so good here.”
“Berkeley is on a bay. Does it smell the same?” Hopefully the place was a stinking industrial city.
“There’s ai
r coming in off the bay, which is nice, and the campus has a ton of trees. But it’s not like this. Exhaust fumes and traffic noise are everywhere, too. It’s crowded.”
Jason fought the urge to discuss the negatives of Chicago. Don’t be too obvious. “The nice thing about Lobster Cove is it’s not a total backwater. The summers have a lot going on. Between the Oil and Water Art Festival, Fourth of July celebrations, and the lobster crawl, there’s just the right amount of tourism, I think.” Hell, next thing he knew, he’d be running for mayor.
Cara nodded. “I know.”
At Maple Avenue, he said, “Do you want to keep going?”
“This has been so nice, Jason, but no, I have some chores to do.”
They turned back toward home but stayed on the sidewalk on the bay side of Main Street. Time to do a little fishing. “So tell me what happened at school.”
Cara sighed. “There’s this class called Entrepreneurial Concepts and Practice.”
“I hate it already.”
Cara giggled. “Jason,” she drew out his name, lowering her brows and squinting, reprimanding him the way she’d done since they were kids. “Anyway, it’s the last class I have to take, and it’s known as The Deal Breaker, a name recently earned. Lately, a lot of people haven’t passed the first time, although I didn’t realize that fact when I blew it. I thought I was the first ever student to flush her graduate degree with one temper tantrum.”
“What did they do to you to make you lose your temper?”
Cara explained about a grueling presentation. His radar went up when she described one of the people on the panel, how he was famous for abusing people.
Cara continued. “Anyway he started calling me a slut, an idiot, and—”
Jason’s shoulders tightened and his fists clenched at his sides. “Wait a minute. Who is this guy, and where does he live, so I can rip his arms off?”
Cara snorted. “Jack Pratt. Don’t worry, I told him off.”
Anger pumped through his body, but he managed to say, “Go on.”
“There I was, strutting back and forth on the stage. I had my magic wand, as I called the laser pointer my advisor loaned me.”
They passed Cove Secrets, a curiosity shop, and Merlot’s. He led her across Main to Oak Street, so they could return a different way than they’d come. The quaint row of businesses along Oak Street should remind Cara of the charms of Lobster Cove. A car came down Oak and pulled into Maggie’s Diner on the corner.
Third Strike's the Charm Page 2
