The Chesapeake Diaries Series 7-Book Bundle: Coming HOme, Home Again, Almost Home, Hometown Girl, Home for the Summer, The Long Way Home, At the River's Edge

by Stewart, Mariah

  “Great. What time can I stop for you?”

  “Really, Grant, I don’t know if this is such a good idea …”

  “I think it’s a great idea. Hey, we’re old friends, right? It’ll be fun to catch up after all these years. And it’ll be just like old times. Me living here, you visiting, although briefly this time, I suppose.”

  “Not so brief,” she told him. “We’ll be here till just after Labor Day.”

  “Really?” He took a moment to digest the news. “I hadn’t heard that.”

  “Cody’s having a great time. This trip has done him a world of good. And I’m getting some work done, so I thought we might as well stay for the rest of the summer.”

  “You could tell me about it over dinner.”

  For a moment, Dallas felt like a cartoon character with a little tiny angel on each shoulder. Go. Have fun. Think of what it could lead to! the bad angel whispered, hinting that a hot time might be had before the night was over. Tell him no. The good angel tugged on her earlobe to get her attention. Think of what it could lead to!

  When she hadn’t answered, Grant said, “How ’bout I pick you up around seven and we drive up to Cameron? There’s a great place there, right on the water. Picnic benches outside where they cover the tables in brown paper and dump your crabs directly onto it. Messy, but fun. And they have music on Friday nights.”

  “You know, it does sounds like fun.” Dallas smiled. “And it sounds like maybe I should toss a spare T-shirt into my bag. When it comes to neatness, I’m afraid my crab-eating technique hasn’t improved a whole lot over the years.”

  “You’re just out of practice. I’ll see you at seven …”

  The drive to Cameron seemed to take forever.

  “I should have picked you up earlier,” Grant told her when they’d finally made it through the traffic onto Route 50. “I wasn’t thinking about how much traffic we get around here on Friday nights.”

  “It’s not that far to Cameron, though. At least, I don’t remember it being that far.”

  “True enough.” He ejected a CD from the player and slipped it into its case. “There are some CDs in a box under your seat,” he told her. “See if there’s anything in there that you like.”

  “What did you just take out?” She reached under the seat, found the box, and picked it up.

  “Audiobook. The latest Harlan Coben. I never have time to read anymore, but I hate to miss any of his books, so I listen to them while I drive. It takes me longer to get through the book this way, but it’s better than missing out all together.”

  “I know exactly what you mean. I used to love to read.” She thumbed through the box. “I’ve been so busy these past few years, it seems I’ve had no time to myself. I’m making up for it this summer at Berry’s, though.”

  “Barbara’s made sure everyone at Book ’Em knows whenever you come into her shop.” Grant grinned. “We all know what you’ve bought and whether you’ve given it a thumbs-up or a thumbs-down.”

  “Well, I have been in there a lot lately, so she’s had a lot to talk about.”

  “So what did you read that’s been good?”

  She handed him the Eagles’ Hell Freezes Over, and while he slipped the CD into the dash, she told him about Pretty Maids and her plans for turning the book into a film.

  “That’s what I’ve been working on this past week,” she confided. “Premature on my part, I admit, but I can’t seem to get the story out of my head.”

  “What’s it about?”

  “It’s about two women, grandmother, granddaughter, both of whom have dark secrets in their pasts that are coming back to haunt them now, and how they help each other survive.” Dallas went on to explain the plot.

  “It sounds very complex,” Grant noted, “but you’re right. It would make a really interesting movie.”

  “With the right actors, it could be golden.” She hastened to add, “Not me, but the role of the younger woman would be perfect for a friend of mine. And only Berry could play the part of the older woman.”

  “I thought Berry was permanently retired.”

  “She is, but maybe I could talk her into doing this one last project. I haven’t discussed it with her, but I will when the time comes. And it occurred to me yesterday morning that it would be an excellent vehicle for Jason Milhouse’s music. Haunting melodies, those electric guitars, the horns and strings.” She beamed just thinking about it. “Gorgeous—and perfect.”

  “Sounds like you have it all planned.”

  “All but having the rights to the book and the backing to make it. Otherwise, yeah, I’ve got it all planned.”

  “I hope it works out for you,” he said softly. “You obviously want it badly.”

  Dallas nodded. “I haven’t wanted anything this badly—anything professional, anyway—since I first auditioned for my first film role.”

  “Rose Everlasting.”

  Her jaw dropped. “You saw that movie? I didn’t think anyone saw that movie.”

  “I admit I didn’t see it when it first came out. I caught it a few years later on tape.”

  “I’m stunned. How did you even know about that film?”

  He hesitated for a moment. “Okay, here’s the truth. I knew that it was your dream to go to Hollywood and make movies, but it never occurred to me that you did it. Not that I didn’t think you weren’t beautiful enough or talented enough,” he hastened to add. “It’s just one of those things that you never think about someone you know actually doing.”

  “So someone here in St. Dennis told you that I was in some films?”

  “No.” Grant shook his head. “Some guys I lived with when I was in vet school were going to the movies one night and asked me if I wanted to come along, but I had a test first thing in the morning so I passed on the invite. The next day they were talking about this girl who was in the movie, going on and on about her, and I’m half listening, you know? And then one of them mentioned your name. I said, wait, is this girl blond, like really light blond …?”

  The expression on his face as he re-created the conversation made her laugh out loud. It was so incredulous.

  “So I figured out it was you. I mean, Dallas MacGregor. How many beautiful blondes with that name could there be in Hollywood? So that night, I went to the movies to see for myself.”

  “Did you drag your buddies back with you?”

  “No. Actually, I went alone, and sat in the back row of the theater.” He appeared somewhat sheepish at the admission. “And then the movie started and there you were. It was surreal. My jaw just dropped. All I could think of was, ‘She did it. She really did it. Just like she said she’d do.’ ”

  “Which movie was that?” Dallas smiled with no small amount of satisfaction that he had noticed, that he had been impressed. That he’d remembered her dreams. “That first one that you saw in the theater?”

  “Dear Olivia.”

  “My first speaking role. I had five whole lines.” Dallas leaned back against the seat. “No one was more surprised than I was to have landed in that film.”

  “Well, except possibly me. After that, I had to go back and check out all your movies, starting with Rose Everlasting. And I never missed one after that.” He slowed the car and made a right turn into the parking lot, which was overflowing. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and someone will be leaving.”

  Two turns through the parking lot later, he drove back onto the road. “Guess we’ll have to park out here. Do you mind?”

  “Of course not. This is fine.”

  Grant parked along the marshy area where red-winged blackbirds sat on cattails that swayed in the breeze and marked their respective territories with song. Beyond the marsh lay the Bay, where the big bridge rose like a steel rainbow.

  They walked to the restaurant through the parking lot and entered through a side door. Dallas kept her dark glasses on even as they waited for the hostess.

  “How many? Just you two?” The young woman wore printed shorts and a
brightly colored T-shirt and held a clipboard in her hand.

  Grant nodded.

  “Bar, dining room, or deck?”

  “Feel like eating outside?” Grant asked, and Dallas nodded.

  “Five minutes,” the woman told them. “You might want to grab something from the bar and listen to the band. They’re just setting up but they should start soon.”

  “Sounds good.” Grant took Dallas’s hand and led her to the bar, where they ordered beers. They’d just been served when the hostess tapped Grant on the shoulder to let him know that their table was available.

  “You’re lucky,” she said as she led them outside. “We don’t have that many tables for two.”

  They walked past the bandstand, where the musicians were just beginning to play, and the marina, where several dozen boats were tied up. Their table was the last one in the row, and overlooked the water.

  “This is really cool.” Dallas nodded and looked around. “I like the vibe here.”

  “Me, too,” he told her from across the table.

  “So you folks ready for some crabs?” The waiter appeared out of nowhere.

  “Sure. A dozen jumbo jimmies to start,” Grant told him.

  “Coming up.” Their server pointed to their half-empty glasses. “Another beer?”

  “With the crabs?” Grant asked Dallas, and she nodded.

  “I’ll send someone out with them.” The server smiled down at Dallas, then looked at her more intently. She put her head down and kept her glasses on.

  “So. We’ve talked about my plans,” she said after the waiter left their table. “Let’s talk about yours.”

  “Build up my practice in St. Dennis. Finish renovating my house. Find a home for all the homeless animals that cross my path. And of course, most important, raise my daughter to be a happy, well-adjusted, responsible human being.” He counted them off on his fingers. “You can probably figure out which of those is proving to be the most challenging.”

  Dallas nodded. “Parenting under the best of circumstances is just flat-out hard. Tougher still if you’re doing the job of both mother and father.”

  “Krista—that’s my ex-wife—is a really good mother. I can’t complain about her, except that …”

  Dallas raised a questioning eyebrow, wondering if he’d finish the sentence.

  He did. “Except that I’d rather have Paige with me all the time. I’m grateful to have her for the whole summer, don’t misunderstand, and we get weekends and holidays together during the school year, but …” Grant shrugged.

  “But you’d rather she stay with you full-time.”

  “I can’t stand not having her around. I’m selfish that way.”

  “It’s not being selfish. You love your daughter. You want to spend time with her. I totally understand. I don’t know what I’d do if Emilio tried to win custody from me.”

  “After the last few weeks, I think the possibility of him getting custody of Cody is pretty slim. I doubt that you have much to worry about.”

  The waiter approached with a basket full of cooked crabs.

  “Here you go, folks.” He dumped the contents of the basket on the table, handed them each a pick and a pair of crackers, and left the empty basket for the discards. “Enjoy.”

  Dallas perched her sunglasses on top of her head, picked up a crab, and took the back of the shell off with one twist of her wrist. Grant whistled appreciatively.

  “I thought you said you were out of practice.”

  “You said I was out of practice. I said I was still messy.” She dug out a hunk of crabmeat and popped it into her mouth. “Berry was teaching Cody her technique and I’m not ashamed to say that I eavesdropped.”

  “I’m impressed. Damn.” He shook his head. “You can take the girl out of St. Dennis …”

  Dallas grinned. “The girl is glad to be back.”

  “The girl is not the only one.”

  She decided it best not to comment further. She was still debating the wisdom of having listened to the bad angel and accepted Grant’s offer of dinner. The tone had been casual, a sort of let’s-catch-up between old friends, definitely nonthreatening, definitely easy. But hadn’t that always been part of Grant’s charm? The easy smile, the gentle humor, the feeling you always had when you were in his company that the entire world was as laid-back as he was, there was no chaos or strife, and that everything would always turn out all right?

  “So how’s Wade?” Grant pulled her out of her reverie.

  “I guess he’s okay.” Dallas shrugged. “I’ve left several messages for him to call me—as has Berry—but we haven’t heard from him. I’m starting to get concerned. It’s been a while since I talked to him, and I haven’t seen him since Christmas.”

  “I’ve seen him more recently than that. He was here for Beck’s wedding,” Grant told her.

  “Berry did mention that. She said he didn’t stay over, though. That he was here for the ceremony in the afternoon and for most of the reception, but that he left before it was over.”

  “Yeah, Steffie was pretty pissed off about that.”

  “Steffie?” Dallas frowned. “Why would she care about what time he left?”

  “Hot and heavy on the dance floor.” Grant wiggled his eyebrows.

  “Really?” Dallas put down the crab leg she was working on. “Wade and Steffie?”

  Grant nodded. “She’s always had a thing for him, didn’t you know?”

  She shook her head. “No. I had no idea. Wow. Wade and Steffie …” She pondered the possibility. “I could see that, though, you know? He needs someone who’s strong enough to not take his guff. Someone who could kick his butt. And Steffie is one tough cookie. Yeah. I can see the attraction.”

  “Well, for the love of all that’s holy, don’t let her know I told you.”

  “Afraid of your little sister, Grant?”

  “You betcha.”

  Dallas laughed again. And that’s why I came with him tonight, she told herself. Because no one, ever, has made me laugh the way Grant Wyler does. Not back then, not in all the years between, not now. No one has ever made me completely forget myself the way he did—and still does.

  Dallas wasn’t sure how she felt about that. It made Grant dangerous in a way that no one else was.

  “Dallas?” Grant reached across the table and touched her arm. She was vaguely aware of a flash from somewhere off to her left. “All of a sudden there are a lot of people staring at us.”

  “Shit.” She slid her glasses back down onto her face.

  “Oh, good move,” he deadpanned. “Now they’ll never know it’s really you.”

  “I wasn’t thinking. I should have left them on,” she said, referring to the glasses.

  “To tell you the truth, I don’t know that they do all that much to disguise you. At first, yeah, you could be any beautiful blonde walking by. But even with the dark glasses, anyone who looks at you for more than a minute is going to realize it’s you.” He took a swallow of beer from the mug he’d been holding, then put it down quietly. “Would you like to leave?”

  “How bad is it? I don’t want to look around.”

  “It’s … well, it’s pretty much spreading like wildfire, from where I sit. Lots of whispering, then people turning to look this way. Of course, we are sitting at the last table on this side, so maybe they’re looking at something behind me. Or maybe they all just recognized me.” He lowered his voice. “Hey, you think it’s easy being the Dog Rescuer? It’s the same everywhere I go. The whispers. The cameras. Everyone wants a piece of me.”

  “I’m sure that must be it.”

  He used one of the wet wipes to wash the Old Bay from the crabs off his fingers. “So what do you think? Want to split?”

  “I think I want one of those wet things to clean my hands. I smell like … well, like crabs.” She busied herself wiping off both hands. When she finished, she said, “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind? Are you finished …?” She pointed to the few crabs that remai
ned uneaten.

  “I’m fine. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

  “All right then, as long as you—”

  “Don’t say it. Just smile, stand up, and walk out as if you are not aware that you’ve suddenly become the main attraction.”

  She tossed the wipe onto the table and stood, grabbed her bag from the deck near her feet, and waited for Grant, who, having signaled the waiter, handed over enough cash to cover the check and the tip. Then he took her hand and casually led her to the exit. Several times she was stopped and asked for her autograph, and each time she politely complied.

  “Is it always like that?” Grant asked when they got to the car. “People gawking and taking your picture and stopping you every time you go out?”

  “Not so much in L.A.,” she replied. “People there are more used to seeing film people. In St. Dennis, people mostly leave me alone, and even the tourists are very considerate. Most of the time, I’m not bothered by anyone. Tonight … I guess one person pulling out their camera just encouraged everyone else to do the same.”

  “I’m sorry your dinner was ruined.”

  “My dinner wasn’t ruined,” she protested. “It was delicious. Was your dinner ruined?”

  “Well, no, not really.”

  “It’s no big deal unless it bothered you.”

  “I thought I toughed it out pretty well.”

  “You did. You were very brave.” She patted him on the shoulder and buckled her seat belt.

  “Yeah, well, you know, like I said, I have to deal with this sort of thing all the time, so I’m used to it.”

  “That’s what happens when everyone knows your name, pal. It’s the price you have to pay for your fame.”

  “So what do you think?” He turned the key in the ignition. “We head back to St. Dennis?”

  “Sure.”

  “We can stop for ice cream if you want dessert. I heard my sister made something today with raspberries and fudge.”

  Dallas groaned. “Your sister is going to be the death of me. And as tempted as I am, I’m trying to limit my visits to Scoop to three per week. I was just there yesterday.”

  “Stef’s got a good thing going.” Grant waited for a car to pass before pulling onto the roadway. “She’s worked really hard to get her business off the ground. I’m really proud of her.”