Love on the Sound

by Matthews, Jamie

  “I’ll let you be. But, I was wondering, would you have space for a few friends of mine if I invited them up?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Just how many friends?”

  He could almost see visions of wild parties and trashed rooms dancing through her head. He grinned. “Just two. It’d be for a week or so.”

  She paused, her eyes closing for minute as she appeared to mentally scroll through her reservation list.

  “I’m not even sure they’ll come,” he added.

  “I’ve got room. Weekends are the busiest time this time of the season, but I think I’ll have two rooms open.”

  “Great.” He flashed her a smile. “I’ll let you know tomorrow morning. Have a nice evening.”

  When he was almost at the door, she spoke up. “Ben.”

  He turned.

  She smiled, the corners of her eyes crinkling. And damn if he hadn’t been right—her smile was fantastic. “Thank you, for the wine, and…everything.”

  “Anytime,” he said, meaning it. “You know where to find me.”

  He carried the memory of her smile up with him to his room and felt a ridiculous sense of accomplishment. Energized, he picked up the phone and prepared to grovel to his friends to get them to venture into what they would consider the wilds of the U.S. to see him.

  Chapter 10

  Amy hung up the phone and scrolled through her guest list for the weekend. With the two reservations she’d just gotten, the hiker who’d checked in yesterday, and Ben’s friends arriving tomorrow, On the Sound would be booked solid. She chewed her lip as she studied the names of Kevin’s friends—Lucas Charles and Steve Roberts. Probably aliases so the press wouldn’t get wind of them. Who was he friends with? She didn’t follow celebrity gossip much…God, what if one of them was Brad Pitt? Or, Leonardo DiCaprio? She was so out of her league. She eyed the computer, tempted to Google Ben’s name. But, he could walk in at any minute.

  When she’d tried to get more details from Ben, he’d seemed amused and told her that no, they didn’t have dietary preferences, and they really wouldn’t care which rooms they had. Hopefully they wouldn’t be staggering in drunk at 4:00 a.m. every day, waking up all her other guests. Or, they could bring a horde of paparazzi with them. Amy ran a hand through her hair and told herself to calm down. After all, the reports of Ben’s drinking problem seemed overrated—she’d noticed when cleaning his room that the man hadn’t touched the bottles of wine he’d bought at the vineyard several days ago. He was also surprisingly considerate—no towels on the floor, trash actually in the trash can, bed neatly made every morning. It looked like Hannah, in her eternal optimism, was actually right—he was a nice guy.

  Which made it that much harder to ignore his spectacular ass.

  Amy sighed and shook her head. When had been the last time she’d had sex? She’d briefly dated that tourist she’d met at the kayak shop at Friday Harbor. What was his name? Matt, she remembered. It couldn’t have been that long ago, probably only a few months…she frowned. Except, it had been cold, hadn’t it? She’d taken the kayak in to patch a small leak in a seam because spring was coming…February. Seven months ago. Jesus. No wonder she was ogling her guest.

  Too bad she had a firm rule about not sleeping with her guests. And, too bad he was a mega star who wouldn’t want to sleep with her anyway. Amy laughed at herself as she walked into the living room to straighten up the newspapers and magazines. Just a week ago she’d been fuming at the man’s very existence, and now…well, it wasn’t smart to forget he might not be the total jerk she thought he was, but he was still a Hollywood player.

  Right on cue, the sound of Ben’s footsteps clattering down the stairs interrupted her thoughts. She was beginning to pick up his steps from those of her other guests—he always bounded down the stairs full of energy. He headed straight for the windows that overlooked the backyard and out to the Sound and pumped his fist in the air.

  “Suck it, Katie!” he cheered, referring to the local weatherwoman. “No rain in sight!”

  Amy laughed. “For now, anyway.”

  Ben wandered back towards the fireplace. He picked up a map of the island that Mr. Henson, the hiker, had left unfolded on the armchair, and absently folded it, replaced it in the proper place on the end table. Amy wondered if his ability to make himself completely at home after a little over a week stemmed from his years traveling from movie set to movie set. Together, they’d already established a tentative routine—he came down just before breakfast ended and ate in the kitchen, asking her questions about the Island or suggestions on where to sail. Sometimes he asked for a box lunch, and if the weather was nice, he took off for the majority of the day on his boat. He often ran on the beach in the afternoon when he got back. If the weather was bad, which it had been yesterday, he holed up in his room, reading avidly, if his perpetually charging e-reader was any indication. Regardless of what he did, he always stopped by to chat when he returned to On the Sound, to ask her how her day was and to tell her what he’d seen, usually making her laugh with his observations.

  She found herself gradually relaxing around him, but it was still hard to forget that he was Ben Morrison, movie star. Today, he paced to the front windows, jingling the change in his pocket and peering down the road as if he expected his friends to arrive at any minute.

  “They’re not arriving until tomorrow, right?” Amy asked. She hid a smile when he glanced at his watch as if checking how many hours left until his friends got there—he reminded her of an excited little boy who couldn’t wait till play time.

  He turned and grinned at her, sheepishly. “I haven’t seen them in a long time. I guess I’m a little wound up. Hey, you’ve got kayaks that guests can use, right?”

  “Yep. I didn’t realize you kayaked?”

  “I never have. How hard can it be?”

  Amy eyed him dubiously. God knows he was fit—stop looking at his ass. And, he knew his way around a boat. But still….

  “You’ll pick it up quickly, I’m sure. But, it’s not really a good idea to go out your first time by yourself.”

  “I’ve got an expert guide right here,” he pointed at her.

  “I’ve got work to do. Laundry that won’t do itself.”

  “Oh, forget that. Don’t you have a million extra sheets and towels?”

  “Said the man who never does his own laundry,” Amy pointed out. She joined him at the window. The sky was a clear blue, the sun sparkling on the water. This window looked right out onto the red Japanese maple she’d planted one year ago today in honor of Kevin’s memory, the graceful branches sweeping the edge of the rocky beach. It’d been four years ago today that her life had changed forever.

  “Amy…come play with me. Please?” Ben’s lips curved in a devilish smile, his eyes beamed the same shade of dark blue as the water in the Sound.

  Fuck it, life was short, she thought, looking at the vibrant red tree against that perfect sky. And, the day was too damn gorgeous to spend inside. She’d be willing to bet if anyone knew how to make a day fun, it was Mr. Ben Morrison.

  “Let’s do it. But, if you fall in the water after five minutes, remember this was all your idea.”

  “I won’t fall in,” he said with absolute confidence. “Let’s go!”

  “Hang on, hang on.” She laughed. “I’m not dressed for it yet. And, hmmmm, let’s see.” She considered. “Have you been to Spencer Spit Park yet?” When he shook his head, she nodded decisively. “That’s perfect for a beginner—we can head up there, have a picnic lunch and rest, then head back.”

  “Excellent. How can I help? Can I haul the kayaks down to the beach while you get ready?”

  She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “Awww, I just love having a big, strong man around the house.”

  He grinned and flexed his arm, which, of course, Amy thought with an inner sigh, was perfectly toned and muscular. She handed him the keys to the garage, directed him down the driveway and hurried upstairs to change. She didn’t e
ven look back to watch him walk away—ok, maybe one quick glimpse.

  Upstairs, she quickly changed into waterproof pants and layered a sweater over a long sleeved shirt. She glanced over at her favorite photo of Kevin on her dresser, a candid shot of him sitting at his keyboard, one hand on the keys, the other jotting down notes on a piece of sheet music. He’d looked up just as she’d snapped the picture, and his lips were slightly curved with the beginnings of a smile.

  “Honey, I’m going out to kayak with a sexy movie star. There’s something I never thought I’d say. I hope you don’t think less of me if I ogle his ass and give some flirting a try.” She brushed a hand over the photo frame and smiled a little at the thought of him watching over her.

  Fifteen minutes later, she’d thrown together two lunches, added some bottled water and made her way down to the dock, where Ben waited with the kayaks, his life jacket already secured.

  “All right, mister.” Amy grabbed the tie line to one of the kayaks from Ben’s hand. “Getting in and out is usually the trickiest part for most folks.”

  She sat on the dock, legs dangling over the cockpit of the kayak. Expertly, she swung first one foot, then the other, into the boat, crouched down and slid in, stowing the lunches by her feet. She tilted her head up at Ben on the dock. “Okay, now—”

  Her mouth dropped open as he swung his legs over the dock and mirrored her movements. His kayak wobbled precariously when his full weight hit, but Amy reached out a hand to steady it, her own kayak bobbing in the waves.

  “I was going to get out and hold your boat steady for you,” she said, raising her brow. “Aren’t you Mr. Fast Learner, or have you done this before?”

  “Nah, I’m just a quick study,” Ben said, shifting to get comfortable. “I’ve done a fair number of my own stunts back in the day—gotta figure it out quick, or you’ve got hundreds of people milling around, cursing your incompetence.”

  “Makes sense,” Amy admitted. She gave him a quick lesson in paddling, stopping, steering, and instructions on what to do if his kayak tipped over. But, unlike the first—and only—time she’d taken Paul out, she doubted Ben would need them. After a few awkward paddles, he followed her lead easily enough. In fact, as they sliced through the waves, she had the feeling by the end of the trip, he’d be able to outpace her.

  As they paddled, Amy played tour guide, pointing out landmarks along the shoreline. She kept the pace easy, enjoying the way the muscles in Ben’s arms rippled as he pulled on the oars. He lifted his head to the sun once in a while, seeming to drink it in and asked questions about everything. What birds were those? Was that Orcas Island in the distance? How many miles away was the park? He seemed to soak in the information like a sponge.

  At the park, tall evergreens lined the sandy shore. They passed by the campground, where only a few domed tents stood amongst the picnic benches. Amy led the way up to the shoreline closest to the picnic area and gracefully extricated herself from the kayak, Ben close behind. After dragging the kayaks past the tide line, they headed off to the picnic area.

  Ben stretched his arms high. “Man, that felt awesome. We don’t need to worry about anyone stealing the kayaks?” he indicated behind them with a jerk of his head.

  “Nope.” Amy followed a path to the grassy picnic area. “During the height of tourist season in the summer, you might want to secure it to the dock. But for the most part, it’s pretty safe.”

  “The property next to yours looks pretty overgrown,” Ben commented. “I hadn’t noticed it on land but from the water, I noticed the shoreline was choked up with blackberry bushes, and I could barely see the house.”

  Amy sighed. “I know. I work so hard to keep On the Sound pristine, and I’m always hacking away at the blackberry bushes. No one lives there.”

  “Really?” Ben raised an eyebrow. “That’s prime waterfront property.”

  “Problem is, from what I’ve heard, the house is in complete disrepair. The son inherited the property some years back, won’t put any money into the house, and is trying to sell it for an outrageous amount—even given the location, it’s still not worth what he wants to sell it for. I’m hoping Marybeth will wear him down—I’d rather not have an abandoned house next to my inn.”

  They made small talk while unpacking the picnic lunch and settling in. While Ben said he loved being outdoors, the only activity he’d taken up had been sailing. Amy, on the other hand, kayaked, camped, hiked and wanted to try sailing, as well as rock climbing. The only thing she didn’t really do anymore was bike—it wasn’t as though the sight of a bike traumatized her, exactly, but she just couldn’t find pleasure in it any more after Kevin’s accident.

  “That’s one of the wonderful things about living up here,” Amy said, as she took a bite of her apple and pear fruit salad mixed with walnuts. “I used to work at a large corporation when I lived in Portland, and looking back, the cubicle life just wasn’t for me. I would have been miserable and having a full-blown midlife crisis when I turned 40. Here I’m my own boss, set my own hours, and I can be outside so much.”

  “It’s a pretty big leap,” Ben commented. “I have to admit, I’m impressed by your chutzpah.”

  “Now there’s a word you just don’t hear very often up here,” Amy said laughingly. “Chutzpah.”

  “You can take the boy out of the East Coast, but…” Ben smiled. He took a bite of his turkey sandwich, clearly not willing to let her off the hook.

  Amy shook her head. “I don’t know that it was all that gutsy, really. I was just going through the motions, day after day. And, then when I saw this place, it was all I could think about. Everyone said I was crazy. But, the truth was, the crazy thing would have been to keep going the way I was going.” She stared out over the water. “I smiled at all the right times, said what I should say. But inside? I was just…blank.”

  Ben nodded slowly, his blue eyes fixed on hers. “That’s the perfect way to describe it. We have that in common. You did the right thing. When you talk about this place, On the Sound, you…sparkle.” He laughed quietly. “Cheesy line, I know.”

  “It’s not that cheesy.” Amy met his eyes, and they stared at each other for a moment. Was it her imagination or was there a spark? Don’t be insane, she told herself. “So, why specifically did you come here? It’s a long way from L.A., and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t on Kendra’s recommendation.”

  “That’s putting it mildly,” Ben said. “Well, about a year ago, there was this incident, and I hired a security firm for a while. Ended up becoming buddies with the guy, Cooper—they had a cool company, called themselves guardians rather than bodyguards. Knew a lot of mixed martial arts and taught me some moves. Anyway, Cooper knew another client who has a summer home here, who also loves to sail—he mentioned I might want to lay low up here for a while. Ended up not being necessary. But, I’d seen photos of the island, and I guess it stuck. Quiet, secluded, plenty of spots to sail. It’s perfect.”

  “Incident?” Amy asked, zeroing in on the detail he was clearly trying to downplay.

  “Ah.” Ben wadded up his sandwich wrapper and napkin, then raked a hand through his dark blonde hair. “Nothing, really. I mean, it certainly won’t happen here.”

  Amy rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t asking out of concern for my own safety. And, I highly doubt you hired a freaking bodyguard over ‘nothing.’”

  He shifted on the bench, clearly wishing he were somewhere else. “There was a fan…well…not really a fan.”

  “Oh, my God. A stalker?”

  “Yeah. At first it was harmless, but then she found out my address and started leaving notes and presents and shit at the gate. And, then she found a way through the gate, which, I’ll admit, really freaked me the hell out. I mean, those gates were 12 feet tall! She had to have climbed over them!”

  “Well, she was persistent and physically fit. She sounds like a great catch. Men.” Amy snorted. “You’re so picky.”

  Ben kicked her lightly under the table. “Ha,
ha. I filed a restraining order, on the advice of my agent. The notes didn’t stop—they turned threatening. She talked about killing herself, killing me. We’d both go out together like Romeo and fucking Juliet.”

  Amy’s mouth dropped open. “Oh. My. God. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have joked. That’s horrible.”

  Ben waved it off. “It freaked me out, enough that I hired Custos Securities for protection. But, that kind of thing is more common than you might think. Cooper compiled evidence that she’d broken the restraining order, and of course, she was threatening me with harm, too. He tracked her down with all of his super spy technology that was just like something out of one of my movies and led the cops straight to her.”

  Ben stood up from the bench. “And, that’s pretty much a downer on a beautiful day. Come on, show me around the park a little before we go back.”

  He held out a hand to help her up, and Amy’s skin tingled all the way down her arm. The tingle only increased when he hauled her up seemingly effortlessly, and then held her hand a second longer than necessary, rubbing his thumb over skin. The man was awakening some long dormant primitive part of her that thrilled at the idea of Ben tossing her over his shoulder, hauling her off into a private part of the forest and pinning her up against a tree. Down, girl, she told herself.

  Amy led Ben down a wide trail along the beach, leading up to the spit. She pointed overhead to a soaring eagle. “There’s a nest here in the park. The lagoon at the interior of the park is a sanctuary for all kinds of birds.”

  Her phone beeped, and she checked the display briefly, then shoved it back in her pocket.

  “Problem at the inn? Do we have to go back?” Disappointment laced Ben’s voice.