Chapter Five
James hated funerals. Not that anyone liked them, but for him they were torturous. As a kid he’d attended plenty with his family. They were long and boring and filled with sad people, but they’d never been for anyone he really knew so they hadn’t felt like much of anything. It wasn’t until he was a grown man of twenty-five that he’d really felt what they were about.
His father had died unexpectedly. A freak boating accident. The call had come in to James at midnight, while he was brushing his teeth. “Dad’s gone,” his brother Dave had said.
“What do you mean gone?” James asked, spitting a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink, not at all concerned.
“Jimmy, he’s dead.” Even a decade later the words made his eyes sting. He’d driven most of the night to get to the beach to be with his family. For the first time he knew what it was like to be one of the mourners. To feel the pain and the loss. To be swallowed up by the void of sorrow. He’d sat through the funeral, feeling like his body would implode. He finally understood.
He knew Kay was feeling that today. He’d watched her at the church, going through the motions. She’d been too surrounded by people for him to get close enough to say anything, but he could see she was keeping it together. He was still watching her as they took their places, lined up around the gravesite. Her gait had become less steady. Even behind the huge sunglasses he could tell her expression was more bereft. He’d seen her shoulders quake right before he’d heard her first sob. Instinct had almost made him leap over to her. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms, to steady her against the pain, but he knew it wasn’t his place. Rosalie and Trixie had it under control. All he could do was stand by as an on-looker. His throat ached, dry with sympathy as he listened to her cry.
“Hey, Jimmy, let’s get a move on.” Dave’s voice startled him.
“What?” He watched as Kay’s car drove down the street and out of sight.
“We’ve got fifteen pounds of shrimp cocktail and lobster salad to deliver to Rosalie’s house before all these other people get there. Let’s go.”
James carried the platters of food over to the long tables on the side of the rec room in Rosalie’s condo. There were swarms of old ladies milling around, but he didn’t see Kay anywhere. After his third trip in from the van he finally caught sight of her. She was standing with a group of women and was the only one without a plate of food.
She was politely nodding but not taking part in the conversation. He made his way toward her, and before he even reached her she looked up and smiled.
“Excuse me,” she said to the group of women, backing her way out of the cluster and heading straight toward James. “Hey, I’m so glad you came.” Her voice was smooth as silk, caressing him with each word.
“How are you holding up?”
A little smile twitched across her lips and she went up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “I’m a lot better now that Trixie’s valium has kicked in.” She wavered a little and caught herself by placing her hand flat against his chest.
He instinctively put his arm around her waist. “Easy there. Valium, eh? How much did you take?”
“Just a little.” She pinched her fingers together, squinting at them.
He laughed, taking note of the fact that she hadn’t pulled away and he was still holding her. Her hip felt warm and soft beneath his fingers, making him think thoughts that were less than appropriate for a funeral reception. “Have you had anything to eat?” he asked, trying to focus.
“Nope.” Her head wagged back and forth, and the citrusy scent of her hair wafted up to him.
He wanted to lean closer, but he forced himself to stay upright. “How about if we get you some food?”
“Okay.” She took a step and teetered a little, her hand returning to his chest. “Actually, maybe I’d better sit down. These heels seem to be giving me a bit of challenge today.”
He scanned the room and noticed that no one had gone out to sit on the deck. “Come with me.” He kept his hand firmly planted on her waist, ready to catch her if necessary and glad to have an excuse to keep touching her. The wraparound porch was completely empty, but he led her around the side of the building to a more secluded spot. “Why don’t you sit here and I’ll bring you a plate? Any special requests?”
She sat down on the top step with a thump, her purse toppling off her lap and onto the painted floorboards. “No requests. I’m easy.”
Jesus. “Try to stay put. I’ll be back in a minute.”
James made his way to the buffet table and quickly filled two plates. He balanced one on his arm and hooked his fingers around two glass cream soda bottles then headed back to Kay. She was sitting on the steps right where he’d left her, but now she was resting her head against the banister. Her eyes were closed, her honey-brown tresses fluttering around her shoulder in the gentle breeze. He swallowed deeply as he eased himself onto the stairs alongside her.
Kay’s eyelids fluttered opened and she gave him a slow smile. “That was quick.”
“I know my way around a buffet table. I took a gamble that you’re still a fan of lobster salad.”
“From your fish market?”
“Where else?”
“Oh, absolutely.” She took the plate and balanced it on her lap.
He bent forward and placed a cream soda on the step below her. The breeze swept his shaggy dark hair to the side, making him look impossibly sexy. It was shady, but with the sun off to the side his blue eyes sparkled like cut gems. Her stomach fluttered. He handed her a fork and she immediately scooped up a bite of the creamy red-and-white mixture.
“Good?” he asked as soon as she’d placed it in her mouth.
“It’s exactly like I remember. Isn’t it funny how tastes have memories? This tastes like my childhood.” The rich flavors filled her mouth, the slight chewiness of the lobster, the subtle crunch of celery, all enrobed in their secret blend of mayonnaise and sour cream and a few mysterious spices.
“I’m not surprised. I used to give you a free forkful every time you came into the store.”
I can’t believe he remembers that. “You weren’t just giving it to me. I was your official taste tester.” Her lips closed around another bite.
“I remember. You were always honest, letting me know if it needed a touch more mayo or had too much celery. I was happy to have your input rather than getting yelled at by my father for making it wrong.”
“Glad to be of service.” Although she remembered the taste clearly, what she remembered more was the fact that he was always the one to pass the fork to her over the high glass counter. She liked any excuse to have to talk to him and she’d loved feeling like she had a special role. As gorgeous as he was back then, he was far more attractive now. The boyish charm was still there, but now it was accompanied by the graces of a full-grown man. She’d never seen him in a suit before today, yet he wore one like he was born to. Broad shoulders, cut waist, long powerful legs. It was more than the lobster that was making her mouth water. It was barely noon and already a shadowy smudge of stubble accented his chiseled jaw. He was a photographer’s dream, all contrasts and angles. He’d been her dream, forever.
He turned to her, brow furrowed. “You okay?”
She felt the flush creep into her cheeks, exactly like it used to when she’d stared at him as a starry-eyed teen. “I’m fine. Just a little out of it. I can’t believe Trixie and Rosalie managed to get me stoned. I feel better now that I’m eating something.”
“Good.”
She twisted the cap off her cream soda and took a sip. “Did you know my grandmother planned this whole meal? Right down to the drinks? She had it all in her will, spelled out to the last detail.”
“Wow. That’s advanced planning.”
“I’ll say. If I didn’t know better I’d say she died in June on purpose so I’d spend a last summer at her beach house.”
“They say everything happens for a reason.”
Kay saw people lookin
g out the window toward the deck. “I guess I’d better get back inside. Some people probably want to leave.”
James craned his neck. “Looks like. Actually I’ve got to be heading out myself. I’ve got workers at the restaurant today and I need to get over there.”
He stood and extended a hand to help her up. His fingers were warm and strong, steadying her and sending a rush of heat through her body. “Thanks.” The word breathed out of her.
“Can I do anything else for you before I go?”
A montage of inappropriate answers flooded her mind. Kiss me. Pull me down on the deck and ravage me. Whisk me away to a deserted island. “No, I’ll be fine.”
He took her plate and stacked it on top of his. She wished he didn’t have to leave. “Let me walk you back inside.”
She followed, enjoying the view from behind him. Is it the valium or is he totally hot? The liquid rush through her body told her it was him.
He placed their plates on the sideboard and tossed his soda bottle into the recycling bin. “Try not to let Rosalie and Trixie corrupt you too much.”
“I’ll do my best, but I can’t make any guarantees.”
He shifted on his heels, looking shy and insanely appealing. “I hope to see you soon, Kay.” He leaned closer and kissed her cheek. A gentle brush of his lips, like a soft caress. She inhaled his rich, masculine scent, musky with hints of sandalwood. His face lingered near hers for an extra beat, and she imagined turning her head so their lips would meet. Before she could complete the image he pulled away, leaving her breathless.
“Thanks again for coming.” Her voice sounded deep and husky.
He smiled and gave a quick wave as he turned and walked out the door.
Trixie was by her side in a heartbeat. “He looks good coming and going, that one.”
“Trixie.” Kay felt her cheeks color.
“What, I can look, can’t I?”
Rosalie came up beside her. “What are we looking at now?”
“Trixie was ogling James Margolis.”
Rosalie rolled her eyes. “Of course she was.”
Trixie clucked her tongue. “He could leave his shoes under my bed any time.”
A sharp laugh left Rosalie. “Honey, the only way his shoes would wind up under your bed is if you hid them there.”
Kay laughed. The three of them standing around talking about guys and chuckling. That’s exactly what Gram would have planned. She’d have been so pleased.
Kay packed the last of the leftover food into her fridge. Rosalie had insisted she take home all of it. “Maybe James will stop by.” She’d winked after she said it and Kay had rolled her eyes, but she was secretly hoping the same thing. Her heart beat double time at the mere thought of seeing him again.
I never felt that way about Todd. Everything with James felt like it had when she was younger. Exciting. Heart stopping. Only now it seemed like maybe something actually could happen. Am I kidding myself? Just because he’s fed me a few times doesn’t mean he thinks of me any differently than he used to. Even the possibility was enough though.
She stripped off her dress and flopped into bed, exhausted. She stared up at the ceiling, watching the shadows shift and wondering if she’d dream about James.
Chapter Six
“No more women.” That’s what James had promised himself when he moved the last of his boxes out of Patricia’s apartment. After months of arguing about everything from where they should vacation, to how he folded his T-shirts, to whether or not he should buy the restaurant, they’d finally officially called it quits. It was a relief for the fighting to end.
He needed to focus on the restaurant, on his life, his dreams. I’ll be more than busy enough. I bet I won’t even notice. And he hadn’t, for the most part. Starting up the business, planning menus, working on the renovations and still helping out at the fish market had made all his days blur together. He fell into bed at night, too tired to remember hitting the pillow let alone think about the fact that he was there alone. The only time he noticed was in the morning. Those first waking moments when he’d roll to the side and realize that no one was sharing his bed. That was when he’d wish there was someone. A morning run was usually enough to shake the empty feeling.
All of that changed the second Kay walked into the market. Even though they’d only spent a little time together he found himself thinking about her most of the day. He could swear her scent lingered in the air after their chats, sweet and inviting, coming back to him each time she crossed his mind. The sunlight reflecting on the wood of the bar suddenly reminded him of the golden highlights that danced in her hair. Regardless of what else he was doing, he found himself thinking about the next time he’d get to see her.
He jogged faster as he rounded the last bend of the boardwalk, the one with her house on it. She was out on the deck, her feet propped up on the edge of the porch, long tan legs crossed at the ankles. He slowed his pace, but his heart doubled its speed, pounding loudly in his ears.
“Hey,” she said, her voice low and smooth. “I was hoping you’d pass by this morning. I have something for you.”
“Oh you do, eh?” He tried to sound nonchalant but wasn’t sure he pulled it off. The twinkle in her eye combined with the teasing in her voice tugged at his stomach, drawing him up the worn gray steps of her porch. She disappeared behind the squeaky screen door and returned a moment later with a plate of scones and a pitcher of iced tea.
He held the door, inhaling deeply as she passed by, unsure which smelled better, her or the buttery triangles on the platter. He wanted both with every fiber of his being. “Are those the cranberry chocolate chip?”
“They are. I was torn between these and the lemon blueberry, but I ate all the blueberries last night and I was too lazy to head to the store this morning.”
“I don’t think getting up at dawn to bake scones counts as lazy by any stretch.”
She bent to place the plate on the small wicker table. “I forgot the glasses.”
“I can get them,” he said.
“Okay. Thanks. They’re in the cupboard to the left of the sink.”
“I know.” He smiled as he disappeared into the house. “This isn’t the first glass of iced tea I’ve had on this porch.”
The house felt different without Maria’s presence. He picked two green glasses off the second shelf and headed back outside.
“I forget how much of a flirt my grandmother was. I’m sure she loved having a hot guy sit on her porch with her.”
So she thinks I’m a hot guy. His pulse drummed faster again. “I think she mainly liked having someone to feed. Rosalie and Trixie combined couldn’t finish a scone.”
“Here.” She held the plate out to him. The aroma filled his nostrils, making him impossibly hungry. He wanted to lean forward and kiss her, to see if she tasted as warm and rich as he imagined, but instead he grabbed the top scone and took a hearty bite. The buttery crumbs melted in his mouth, the tangy bits of cranberry mellowed by the deep flavor of dark chocolate, still gooey from baking.
A groan escaped him. “Your grandmother would be proud. These are amazing.”
“As good as hers?” The teasing was back in her voice, low and playful, her eyes dancing with laughter.
“Every bit.” He took another bite. The sea breeze washed over them and the hair on his arms stood up. His entire body felt sensitized, every nerve coiled. He swallowed then took a swig of tea. The sweet amber liquid cooled the heat that burned in his throat. “So, what do I have to do to get you to part with the recipe?”
The mischievous smile that spread across her face was enough to make him wild. “My grandmother always made it a condition that she’d show people how to make things. ‘I give you the recipe it comes out all wrong, I show you, it comes out like mine’.”
He laughed. “Man, you nailed her voice there.”
“Well, she did raise me. She was really the only family I had.”
Her eyes darkened, and he wanted to wrap
his arms around her. “I guess I didn’t realize that. I always thought you were just one of the summer kids.”
“I was. I was at boarding school the rest of the year, then I summered here with Gram. When I went to college I kept my apartment year-round so the visits got shorter. Once I started traveling for work I had to plan all my trips around my photo shoots. I should have come here more often…”
Her voice trailed off and she looked as if she were about to cry. He reached out and took her hand, trying to ignore the thrum of energy he felt just from touching her. “Maria understood how busy you were. She was so proud of you. These past few years you were all she talked about. ‘My talented girl’. She’d show your magazine photos to anyone who’d stand still. She always had a purse full of them.”
“She did?” Kay’s eyes widened, the tears making the golden specks glow brighter.
“I didn’t see Maria all that often, but I venture to guess that I’ve seen every picture you’ve had published. My favorites were the ones you took in Italy, the sunsets in Florence.”
“That was one of my all-time best shoots. It was magical.”
“It showed in the photos. I spent a semester there in college and that article took me straight back. You captured every nuance of the city.”
“Thank you.” A delicate flush colored her cheeks, and he realized he was still holding her hand.
He brushed his thumb across her slender fingers, wondering if he was the only one to feel the electricity humming between them. Her eyes met his for an instant and he tried to read what she was thinking. Desire jumbled his thoughts.
“I think you need more tea.” She slipped her fingers from beneath his and wrapped them around the ceramic handle of the pitcher.
“Thanks,” he said as she refilled his glass. He took another bite of scone. “If I agree to be a good student you’ll teach me to bake these?”
Then, Again Page 3
