Conor stepped closer to her and put a hand on her shoulder. She flinched at the contact. “My apologies. I couldn’t help myself. I never let an opportunity for a good joke pass me by.”
Great. Of all the people who could have saved them, it had to be the town jokester.
“When we’re back in town, you’re welcome to come to my pub and have a drink on the house,” Conor said, as soon as the boat’s engine roared to life. “I’ll throw in a burger, too.”
Jerika clapped her hands and cheered. Giorgia smiled half-heartedly, wondering if her friend would believe her if she faked illness and stuck to her initial plan instead. Judging by the way Jerika immediately jumped into a conversation with the two guys as if she’d known them all her life, she had a feeling her evening was pretty much already planned. And it didn’t include pajamas, cookies, and a book.
“Where are you ladies from?” Jack asked as he stood behind the helm, looking exactly like a pirate steering his ship would. Only, he wore sunglasses and a cap, and his beige shorts showed he didn’t have a wooden leg. Maybe modern pirates wore shorts and sneakers these days, though. Conor leaned against the railing, his back to the sea, looking like an extension of the boat.
“I’m from California and Giorgia is from Italy,” Jerika said, looking quite at ease on the bench on the side of the boat. Giorgia, on the other hand, was focusing all her energies and attention on making sure her stomach didn’t lurch. The first impression she’d given had been poor—she didn’t want to give them another reason to think she was a fool.
“I met her in Miami and we drove here. Just like Thelma and Louise.”
Conor chuckled. “I’m afraid there are no canyons in Fortune’s Bay, but you can definitely drive off Butterfly Hill if you really want to re-enact the movie.”
“No, thanks. Agreeing to a kayak trip was as reckless as I was willing to be.”
Conor tilted his head as a corner of his lips lifted in a lopsided grin. “You think kayaking is a reckless activity?” He didn’t bother hiding the incredulity in his tone.
“She’s the least adventurous person in the world,” Jerika replied. Giorgia knew contradicting her would be useless. She was right, after all. “Convincing her to meet me in Miami has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I didn’t even tell her I’d planned this trip to Fortune’s Bay, or she wouldn’t have boarded the plane. She doesn’t even know I’ve enrolled both of us in the Treasure Hunt.”
Giorgia’s head whipped toward her friend and her mouth dropped open. “You did what?”
Jerika shrugged. “You needed to shake up your life, so when I came across a post on Facebook advertising the event, I knew it would be the perfect place to start creating the new you.”
“Well, we haven’t earned the nickname of most adventurous town on the East Coast for nothing,” Conor said, chuckling. “We take the Treasure Hunt pretty seriously, so expect some wicked times.”
“Fantastico.” Giorgia mumbled under her breath.
“You guys both from around here?” Jerika changed the subject, satisfied with having had the last word on the sore topic of changing Giorgia’s life.
Jack nodded. “I’m Fortune’s Bay born and raised, while Conor was born in Cork. His family left Ireland when he was three and we’ve been friends ever since.”
“Really?” Jerika perked up. Giorgia grabbed her friend’s hand and gave it a vigorous tug. Jerika ignored it, just as she did the hard squeeze that was meant to be painful but didn’t even make her flinch. “Isn’t this just an awesome coincidence? We love Ireland, like, crazy in love. We actually met in Ireland.”
Giorgia let out the breath she’d been holding. She was glad that for once she’d been wrong about her friend. She’d really thought she was going to tell them that—
“Giorgia wants to marry an Irish guy. Isn’t it funny we should be rescued by one? In Florida, on top of it all? It must be some kind of Christmas magic.”
Giorgia’s stomach plummeted to her feet, bounced on the wooden floor of the boat, and skyrocketed up into her throat.
Both guys chuckled, and Giorgia wished really hard that a killer whale, a shark, or even the Lochness Monster would jump out of the water and swallow her whole.
“Oops, sorry. I wasn’t supposed to say that.” Jerika gave Giorgia a smug look that showed she wasn’t sorry at all.
“No, you weren’t, because it’s not true.” Giorgia emphasized the ‘not true’ part, even though she knew her trembling voice would give her away.
“Haven’t you girls heard about the legend?” Jack asked, slowing the boat as they approached the small harbor. Both women shook their heads. “You can’t be in Fortune’s Bay and not know about it. Come to the pub later. We’ll tell you all about it.”
After they reached the safety of the mainland, Jack went with the two women to the rental shop and managed to convince Randy to keep the fifty-dollar deposit as compensation for the lost kayak, which was way better than the scenario Giorgia had envisioned while they were on Jack’s boat. She doubted the man would’ve let them off the hook so easily if Jack hadn’t been there.
Once they’d thanked him for his understanding, and thanked Jack for his help, they went back to the B&B for a shower and a change of clothes, before walking back into town to take advantage of Conor’s offer.
The Wilde Pirate very much resembled one of the Irish pubs Giorgia frequented in Dublin. If you didn’t count the beachy feel the outside tables and umbrellas gave, and the pirate references, starting from the wooden sign at the side of the door with a pirate skull wearing a white-orange-and-green bandana and an eye patch decorated with a shamrock. The inside definitely reminded her of Ireland, with pictures of Oscar Wilde and Irish landscapes hanging on the walls, as well as Irish flags and the inevitable Lovely day for a Guinness ad with the trademark toucan.
Like all of the businesses in town, it was adorned with fairy lights and Christmas decorations. It felt weird to see palm trees decorated with tinsel and baubles, and hear Christmas tunes playing everywhere while everyone was wearing T-shirts and sunglasses. The perfect Christmas was supposed to include snow and woolen gloves, not flip-flops and tank tops. The atmosphere in the pub gave off a much more Christmassy vibe than any other places she’d been in so far, though, and for a moment she was back in Ireland, dreaming about her future as a cook in an Italian restaurant in Dublin or Galway.
Conor was behind the counter, serving a pint to a middle-aged man, and Jack sat on the stool next to him, a glass of what looked like soda in his hand. Conor looked over and smiled broadly.
“Ahoy, ladies!” He winked at Giorgia and she could swear her heart skipped a beat. He’d kept his sunglasses on all the time while they’d been on the boat but now that a pair of clear-blue eyes stared at her from underneath long, black lashes, she could swear something in her world had suddenly shifted. As if she were still on the boat and a huge wave had rocked it, making her lose her balance, and throwing her overboard.
Jerika strode to the counter without hesitation, and Giorgia had no other option but to follow, even though her first instinct had been to spin on her heels and head out, away from the danger she knew Conor represented. She couldn’t let herself like this guy. Her life was already a mess, and she didn’t need to add more trouble. She’d never had a summer fling in her life, and the guy looked very much like the epitome of player; with his good looks, witty talk, and charming manners, Giorgia was sure he had women falling at his feet more often than not.
But if he thought she was going to be one of them, he had another think coming.
“So, what do you do when you’re not busy eating pizza?” Conor asked, tilting his head to the side.
“Ha. Ha.” Giorgia accompanied each syllable with a clap of her hands, nodding in approval. They’d been sitting at the counter for half an hour, and already the guy was making stupid jokes. At least he hadn’t asked her if she belonged to a Mafia family—yet. “Very funny. I don’t know, maybe I
eat spaghetti and speed in my Ferrari, dressed up in Armani clothes?”
“Thought so.” He grinned, and for the life of her, she couldn’t help the tingles in her belly. He swiped condensation from the wooden counter with a rag and stared at her from under his dark lashes. Those blue eyes, the color of a stormy sea, were going to be the death of her. She didn’t know what the matter with her was, but she definitely wasn’t going to act on any of those stupid flutters or whatever other reaction those eyes provoked in her.
“What about you? Shouldn’t you be outside chasing Leprechauns?” With one elbow propped on the counter, her chin in the palm of her hand, she picked up a fry with her other hand and stared at Conor as she popped it into her mouth.
This time he laughed, and the sound ignited full-bodied lightning inside her chest. “Touché.”
“You see, she can be funny, when she’s not busy worrying about non-existent mortal dangers.” Jerika joined the conversation. For a moment, she’d completely forgotten about anyone else around her—just the two of them, wrapped up in a bubble nobody was allowed to invade. Had Jerika noticed the way Giorgia responded to Conor’s flirtatious comments? Did she think Giorgia was actually flirting back? She could tell Jerika already had her mind set on playing matchmaker, from the very minute she’d discovered Conor was Irish.
“Nothing bad can happen to you in Fortune’s Bay. Don’t let the pirate and ghost legends scare you away,” Jack said, from the other side of Jerika. Giorgia frowned, and he grinned wickedly at her. “I promise you they never killed a tourist. More like… they brought people together.”
Giorgia’s frown intensified. What was he talking about?
Conor nodded vigorously. “Yep, at least half of the marriages are said to have been helped by Destiny. The ghost.”
“Um…ghost?” Her voice cracked as a sliver of panic set in. Giorgia didn’t believe in supernatural things, but judging by the way the two guys were talking, it felt awfully real. And scary. She didn’t like scary things.
“Our town matchmaker, yep.” A man came up from behind her, making her jump on her seat—and nearly out of her skin. She looked over her shoulder at a man with white hair that reached his shoulders and was pulled back into a low ponytail, a gray beard, and blue eyes that wrinkled as he smiled. Actually, his whole face was wrinkled, as if he’d spent all of his life outside in the sun and the salty air. “Since she could never marry the love of her life and is forever stuck on this island, her favorite pastime is bringing true lovers together. Ale, please, Conor.”
The nonchalant way with which he said those words followed by his drink order made Giorgia think the legend was as normal to him as if it was something that had happened just the day before. Was the man crazy, perhaps? She moved her gaze between Jack and Conor, but neither of them seemed to find the man’s comment odd or funny. When her eyes met Jerika’s, her friend’s face lit up. Giorgia closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and started counting backward. Three. Two...
“This sounds awesome. I want to know more.” Jerika clapped her hands and nudged the old man’s elbow. “Please have a seat. Tell us the whole story. You’ll never know, maybe this Destiny girl will help my friend find her soul mate.”
Giorgia hated that her friend had been staring straight at Conor while saying the words.
Please kill me now.
“Destiny was an Irish maiden, promised to William, her true love. She was kidnapped by a pirate at seventeen, and was brought here, while the pirate and his crew went off to raid more towns in the Gulf. She waited for William to come rescue her, but he never showed up.” The old man, who introduced himself as Marland Nash, took a sip from his glass, looking like he was enjoying the attention. Giorgia wouldn’t be surprised to discover he was the town’s official storyteller, hired by the mayor to impress tourists. “She didn’t know William had died only a day before reaching the bay, on the British Royal Navy ship he had embarked on to save her. She waited and waited, but nobody ever came back for her. Not even the pirates, who died when their ship sank in the Gulf waters. Eventually, she died of starvation right where the pier is now. That’s the reason for the statue with outstretched arms.”
Jerika let out a sigh. “Poor girl. It’s such a sad story.”
Giorgia nodded but the practical, maybe even a little cynical woman in her, reminded her this was just further proof that happy endings only existed in books and movies.
“What about the ghost legend?” Jerika perked up.
The old man smiled and took another sip of beer, savoring it as if trying to buy time. Was he making the whole story up? Was this some kind of joke Conor and Jack had orchestrated?
“Destiny’s ghost never left the bay. She’s been hovering around ever since, and because she never could marry her true love, she’s made it her mission to bring soul mates together. To give them the happy ending she never had for herself.”
“Aww!” Jerika brought a hand to her heart. “This is so romantic. Do you think there could be a reason behind me stumbling upon that Facebook post advertising the town? Because Destiny wanted me, us, to come here?”
Giorgia rolled her eyes. “Not sure you remember your fiancé is waiting for you back in Orange County?”
Jerika huffed. “I’m obviously not talking about Destiny wanting to work her magic on me. I was talking about you. She wanted me to bring you here so you could meet your soul mate.”
Giorgia’s face heated, and she stood up from her stool, ready to call it a day. It was early but who cared. If she knew her friend, she was going to start playing matchmaking tricks on her and Conor, and Giorgia didn’t want him to think she agreed with Jerika’s schemes.
“I think we should go,” she said, just as a yell and a loud thump came from behind the swinging doors to the left of the counter. Muttered curses followed. Conor rushed into the kitchen, followed by Jack. Jerika stood up and tried to spy through the small glass at the top of the doors, while Giorgia wondered if now might be a good time to sneak out and back to the B&B. But the polite, responsible part of her stopped her before she had even taken a step. Sometimes being a good girl sucked.
Ten minutes later, after Jack left to take the chef to the clinic so he could get his hand stitched and the bump on his head checked, Conor disconnected the third call and sighed.
“I guess I’ll have to close the kitchen for tonight. None of my friends who can cook can stand in.”
“No, you don’t.” Jerika reached out her hand and patted his forearm. He looked up from her hand with a frown. “Giorgia is a great cook. She could help you out to thank you for rescuing us.”
Oh, please, no. All the blood left Giorgia’s face. Conor’s eyes moved from Jerika to her, and the blood went back up to her face.
“You’re a cook?” Why was his tone so surprised? Was it that unlikely?
“I’m an accountant. Jerika is exaggerating, as usual.”
“You worked as an accountant, but cooking is your passion.” Jerika focused her attention on Conor again, turning her back to Giorgia as if she wasn’t even there. Nice. “I don’t know how many times I told Giorgia she should pursue a culinary career. She was just meant to cook; it’s in her DNA. She can come up with awesome recipes with just a couple of ingredients in the fridge. I even told her she should create a food blog and share her recipes.”
Conor looked at Giorgia, and tingles pervaded her body. She’d never been the bragging type and never liked being the center of attention. The appreciation in Conor’s eyes made her feel self-conscious, to the point she wanted to squirm in the chair.
“I don’t offer a gourmet menu, but if you can make burgers, fish and chips, and other simple bar food, you would save my life.” The look in his eyes was bordering desperation. Closing the kitchen would likely cause him a financial loss for the night and it just wasn’t fair. He’d saved their lives, after all, so the least she could do was help him sort out this little crisis—while doing something she loved as a bonus.
She took
a fortifying breath and nodded. “I’ll be your cook for the night. If you promise to be patient if I take longer than your chef to send dishes out.”
A huge smile brightened his face. “I’ll be the most easygoing boss ever. Scout’s honor.” Then he handed her a white apron and pushed open the swinging doors. “Please follow me into the kitchen, chef.”
After working in Conor’s kitchen, Giorgia was more excited than she’d been in years. Although she’d cooked only basic bar food, she’d loved being in a professional kitchen. For nearly three hours she’d finally lived her dream and experienced the life of a chef. Her safe and monotonous accounting job had never made her feel this good.
She’d also enjoyed being around the handsome pirate a bit too much for her peace of mind, though. His walking in and out of the kitchen, his teasing and devilishly gorgeous smiles had nearly made her burn her hands on the grill more than once. To the point she’d started to believe the silly legend about the ghost might be real, after all.
Despite Jerika’s clear matchmaking intentions, Giorgia managed to stay away from the Wilde Pirate—and Conor—for the next two days. Jerika booked a boat tour with Jack but Conor wasn’t part of the crew that day, much to her friend’s chagrin. They visited Shelter Island, the biggest of the five islands off the coast, and during the thirty minutes stop, they were able to take a look around and stop at the fancy hotel for a fruity cocktail. Jerika threw Conor’s name into a couple of conversations but Giorgia was a master at changing the subject. They spent the following day at the beach, and Jerika convinced her to try jet skiing—something a couple of weeks ago she wouldn’t have imagined doing but that she truly enjoyed.
Now, the day before the Treasure Hunt, Giorgia strolled aimlessly down the streets in the town center, holding a paper bag from the chemist’s with the medicine Jerika had asked her to buy to help settle her stomach. She realized she was standing in front of the Wilde Pirate just as the wooden door opened. A man stopped on his way out and stepped aside to let her in. She hadn’t meant to go in, but since he’d been so polite, she figured she could stop for a quick drink. The walk had made her thirsty and she wouldn’t mind a glass of soda.
A Brush With Love In Fortune's Bay: A Fortune's Bay Novella Page 11
