Return to Rose Cottage

by Sherryl Woods

  His situation with Stephanie resolved, Josh had finally let his thoughts turn to Ashley. It had taken him a ridiculously long time the night before to get it straight that all three women in the room were D’Angelos and that they were the granddaughters of Mrs. Lindsey, the woman who’d been a good friend of his own grandmother.

  As a kid, he’d envied the boisterous activity that went on just up the road at Rose Cottage. He’d been a bit of a nerd, far too studious for his own good, and way too much of an introvert to ask to be included in the impromptu gatherings that seemed to be going on all the time whenever the four granddaughters were in town. Besides, those four beautiful girls had drawn admirers from at least two counties. Josh hadn’t stood a chance.

  He’d matured a lot in the years since then, in both attitude and physique. He’d found a sport he loved—tennis—and a gym he hated but used regularly. A brilliant student, he’d gained confidence in law school, then added to it when he’d been selected for Richmond’s most prestigious law firm. Beautiful women no longer intimidated him. Nor did money and power.

  Knowing that he could have it all—lovely, well-connected Stephanie Lockport Williams, the money and the power—had somehow been enough. Discovering that he didn’t want any of it had been the shocker.

  That’s why he was here, in fact, to wrestle with himself over how incredibly stupid it might be to throw it all away. He was having far fewer second thoughts today, now that the breakup with Stephanie had gone so smoothly and left him feeling so thoroughly relieved. It had made him wonder if the timing wasn’t precisely right for a lot of dramatic changes in his life.

  He was up at dawn, anxious to get out on the water, where he could while away the morning fishing…or pretending to. He rushed through breakfast, put away the few clothes he’d brought along, then made a quick call to his folks to let them know he was settled in.

  Eventually, armed with bottled water, a sandwich, a fishing pole and bait, he headed for the bay where it lapped against the shoreline at the back of his family’s property. He climbed into the seaworthy old boat at the end of the dock and pushed off. Paddling just far enough away from shore to sustain the pretense that he was at sea, he dropped anchor, cast his line, then leaned back, his old fishing hat pulled low over his eyes.

  He was just settling down, content with the warmth of the fall sun against his bare skin, when something crashed into the boat, tilting it precariously and very nearly sending him over the side. The splashing of icy water all over his heated skin was as much a shock as the collision.

  Oddly enough, he wasn’t all that surprised when he peered over the bow to see Ashley with her face buried in her hands, the paddle floating about three feet away from her kayak.

  He couldn’t help chuckling at her crestfallen expression. “You know, if you wanted to see me again, all you had to do was call. If you keep ramming into me like this, I’m not going to have any modes of transportation left.”

  “Obviously I am completely out of control on land or sea,” she said in a tone that bore an unexpected edge of hysteria.

  Josh stared at her. “Are you okay?”

  “Sure. Fine,” she said at once, putting on a brave smile to prove it.

  She was reasonably convincing, but Josh wasn’t buying it. She might be physically fine, but there was something else going on, something that had to do with this vacation she was taking with such obvious reluctance. Her sisters had alluded to it last night.

  “Maybe you should come aboard,” he suggested, not liking the idea of her being on the water alone when she was obviously shaky. On closer inspection, he thought he detected traces of dried tears on her cheeks. Maybe if he focused on her turmoil, he could put off his own decisions.

  “I have my kayak,” she protested.

  “We can tie it up to the boat.” He gestured toward the paddle that was drifting rapidly away. “You won’t get far without that paddle, anyway.”

  “Story of my life lately,” she muttered, but she held out her hand to take his, then managed to gingerly climb into the rowboat. “You’re very brave, you know.”

  “For taking you in like this?”

  “Exactly. I’m obviously a danger to myself and everyone around me.”

  “Something tells me that’s a relatively new condition,” he said, keeping his gaze away from her, hoping she would feel free to tell him what was going on that had her behaving with what he suspected was uncharacteristic carelessness.

  “I suppose,” she conceded.

  To his disappointment, she stopped right there. He decided not to press. Instead he asked, “Know how to bait a hook?”

  She regarded him skeptically. “With what?”

  “Shrimp.”

  She nodded. “That’s okay, then. If you’d said worms, I’d have jumped overboard and swum home.”

  “Squeamish, huh?”

  “No, absolutely not,” she said at once, rising to the challenge with predictable indignation.

  “Some sort of animal-rights stance?” he taunted.

  A faint flicker of amusement lit her eyes for the first time since they’d met.

  “Hardly,” she said. “They’re just… I guess messy describes it.”

  “Then I can assume you won’t be cleaning any fish we catch for supper?”

  “I don’t expect to catch any,” she said, even as she gingerly dangled the baited hook over the side of the boat, then studied the line with total concentration. After a minute, she glanced at him and asked, “Do you do this every day?”

  “Every day I can. I get some of my best thinking done out here on the bay.”

  “You’re not bored?” she asked wistfully.

  Josh bit back a grin. Maybe that was the trouble with Ms. Ashley D’Angelo. She didn’t know the first thing about relaxing. Even now on this beautiful fall day surrounded by some of the most glorious scenery on earth, she was obviously edgy and uptight.

  He studied her intently for a minute, trying not to let his gaze linger on those endless bare legs. He certainly couldn’t spot any other flaws. Maybe he could help her work on the relaxation thing.

  “I’m never bored,” he told her. “I like my own company.”

  “No significant other?”

  “I’ve been seeing a woman,” he admitted. “But I’ve just recently reached the conclusion that she’s not significant. She’s a great woman, just not right for me. We broke it off last night.”

  “Last night?” she asked, obviously startled.

  “I called her after I got home from dinner at your sister’s.”

  She seemed to be wrestling with that information. He waited to see if she’d ask if there was a connection, but she didn’t.

  After studying him with undisguised curiosity, she eventually asked, “How did you conclude that the relationship was over?”

  “I was faced with fishing or cutting bait, so to speak. It was time to get married…or not. I couldn’t see myself with her forever. Fortunately, as it turned out, she couldn’t see that, either.”

  “Is there something wrong with her?”

  “Absolutely not. She’s beautiful, intelligent, well-connected. She’ll be a dream wife for the right man.”

  “But not you?”

  “Not me,” he confirmed.

  “If beautiful, intelligent and well-connected aren’t right for you, then what kind of woman do you want?”

  “I’m still figuring that out,” he admitted. “Offhand, though, I’d have to say one who’s comfortable in her own skin, someone who knows who she is and what she wants.”

  “And this woman isn’t like that?”

  “She is.” He shrugged. “But the sparks weren’t there. Who knows why that happens? Seems to me that love is just as mysterious as all the philosophers have claimed it is.”

  She seemed to deflate a little at that. If they hadn’t just met, Josh would have said she was actually disappointed.

  “That whole bit about being comfortable with who and what you are
would definitely let me out,” she said a little too brightly.

  “Going through an identity crisis?” Josh asked, relieved to finally have something specific to work with to try to figure her out.

  “Yes, that’s exactly it.”

  “Welcome to the club.”

  “You, too?”

  Josh nodded. “But I’m not going to worry about it today. Neither should you. Relax and maybe the answers will come to you when your mind’s clear of all the clutter.”

  “Relax?” she said again, as if it were a foreign concept.

  Josh chuckled. “Like this,” he explained patiently. “Lean back.”

  He waited until she’d followed his directions. “Okay, then. Now pull the brim of your hat down low to shade your eyes.”

  She did that, her expression totally serious.

  “Now close your eyes and concentrate on the water lapping against the side of the boat,” he suggested soothingly. “Feel the sun on your skin.”

  She sighed. “It feels wonderful.”

  “There you go. It’s all about getting in touch with yourself and letting everything else kind of drift away.”

  She followed his advice as dutifully as if her life depended on it. He might have been amused, if there had been time. Unfortunately, a fish picked that precise moment to snag Ashley’s line, and the next thing he knew he had his arms around her waist and was hanging on for dear life as she tried to reel in the rockfish that was just as determined to get away.

  He was all too aware of the soft, sun-kissed scent of her skin, of the way her muscles flexed as she worked the line, of the softness of her breasts against his forearm. She was strong and fiercely determined not to be beaten by a fish. In fact, he had to bite his lip to keep from chuckling at the string of curses she muttered when she seemed to be losing the battle.

  Only when the rockfish was finally flopping around in a bucket of salt water onboard, did Josh finally dare to meet her gaze. “Competitive, aren’t you?”

  “You have no idea,” she murmured.

  Josh nodded slowly. The revelations were coming bit by bit, each one adding to the enigma that was Ashley D’Angelo. Things were definitely going to get very interesting before he had a complete picture of this woman who was so triumphant about landing a fish.

  And if the jangling of his pulse right now was any indication, this vacation of his might not turn out to be half as relaxing as he’d imagined.

  4

  “That’s three for me,” Ashley announced triumphantly as she reeled in her third rockfish of the morning. She grinned at Josh. “And how many for you?”

  He laughed, obviously not the least bit intimidated by her success. “None. I haven’t had the time. I’ve been too busy trying to get your fish in the boat without you going overboard. You really need to curb your enthusiasm just a little. A rowboat isn’t as stable as, say, a fishing pier. You can’t jump around on it.”

  “That sounds like an excuse to me,” Ashley said, enjoying goading him. He refused to take her seriously. She supposed it was that nice thing again. He actually seemed happy that she was doing so well and having so much fun. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been around a man who wasn’t out to get the better of her. Maybe that was because most of the men she knew were prosecutors. They tended to be driven, focused and devoid of humor.

  “Now what?” she asked Josh, surprisingly eager for more of the kind of lighthearted banter and entertainment he was providing. She hadn’t thought about work for several hours now.

  “We take them home and clean them,” he said. “The person who catches them is definitely responsible for cleaning them.”

  “I don’t think so. I’ve done all the hard work,” she retorted. “We have these fish because of me. I think that makes it your job to clean them.”

  “Excellent point,” he said.

  “Thank you,” she said modestly.

  He held up his hand. “However, and this is important, you did not reel them in entirely on your own. I did help.”

  Ashley considered his claim. Fairness dictated that she acknowledge his role in the day’s catch. “I’ll give you that.”

  “So we clean them together.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “How would you suggest we divvy up the labor?”

  She thought it over. “You clean ’em. I’ll cook ’em. How about that?”

  “Can you cook?”

  She laughed. He had her there. Maggie was the cook in the family. “At least as well as you can fish,” she said eventually. “I’ll call Maggie. She’s the professional in the kitchen. I’m sure she can coach me through it.”

  Of course, even as she uttered the words, Ashley knew what a bad idea it was to call her sister in on this. She’d never hear the end of it. “Better yet, I’ll find a cookbook. There’s bound to be one at Rose Cottage. If I could pass the bar exam, I’m sure I can follow directions. How hard can it be?”

  Josh held out his hand. “Deal.”

  Ashley accepted his outstretched hand. “Deal,” she agreed, as her pulse did a little bump and grind at the contact. Her gaze sought Josh’s to see if he’d felt it, as well. With his cap pulled low over his eyes, it was impossible to read anything in his expression.

  When they reached the dock at Rose Cottage, he tied up the rowboat, then stepped into the shallow water and secured her kayak.

  After helping her from the boat, he picked up the bucket of fish and his cooler and headed for the house. “I’ll just put these inside, then head home to get cleaned up. What time do you want to have dinner?”

  “Actually I’m starved now,” she admitted, surprised to find that it was true. Her stomach was actually growling. It must have something to do with the salt air and exercise. “Much as I appreciated it, that half sandwich you shared with me didn’t do the trick.”

  “Same here. How about I come back in an hour? It shouldn’t take me more than fifteen minutes to row back to my place. That’ll leave plenty of time for me to shower and drive back. Anything you want me to pick up for dinner?”

  Ashley thought about the contents of the refrigerator. She’d brought some things with her, and Maggie had seen to it that it was stocked with plenty of salad ingredients before her arrival. The only thing missing was dessert. Normally she was content with fresh fruit, but the first full day of her vacation seemed to call for something decadent. If nothing else, it might demonstrate that she was starting to view this time-out as something worthy of celebration, rather than as punishment.

  “Would you mind going to the bakery if there’s time?” she asked.

  “Let me guess. You want chocolate,” he said, grinning.

  “The richest, gooeyest chocolate they have,” she confirmed. “Brownies, cake, fudge, mousse—I’m not choosy.”

  “And if the bakery’s closed?”

  “Why would it be closed?”

  “It’s almost five now.”

  She stared at him in shock. It couldn’t be. “We spent the entire day on the water doing nothing?”

  He laughed. “Pretty much. You got the knack for relaxing a lot quicker than I expected you to. The nap you took filled an hour or so.”

  “I did not take a nap,” she protested. “I merely closed my eyes for a couple of minutes.”

  “Whatever. Bottom line, the day has slipped away. Let me get going before any more of it slips by. I’ll do my best on the chocolate thing.”

  She watched him go with an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. She’d spent an entire day in the company of a man she barely knew, doing something that hadn’t exactly taxed her mind, and she hadn’t been bored. Not for a single second. Amazing.

  She was still pondering that when she went inside and discovered the phone ringing. She debated ignoring it, but realized that would only bring her sisters rushing over here in a panic. She picked it up reluctantly.

  “Where the devil have you been?” Maggie demanded at once. “I’ve been c
alling for hours. I was beginning to think you’d run back to Boston. Melanie was about to start packing so we could come after you.”

  “I’ve been fishing,” she responded.

  “Excuse me?”

  “You know, the activity in which a person puts bait on a hook, puts the hook in the water and reels in a fish. At least that’s how it’s supposed to work. It turns out I’m pretty good at it. I caught three rockfish.”

  “Uh-huh,” Maggie said, clearly stunned. “When did you learn to fish?”

  “Today.”

  “Who taught you?”

  Ah, there was that minefield she’d been dreading. “Josh,” she admitted. “I sort of ran into him on the water this morning.”

  “Ran into him?”

  “Literally,” she confessed. “I took the kayak out. When I slammed into his rowboat, I lost the paddle. He took me on board his boat.”

  “As in kidnapped you or offered you refuge?”

  “Refuge, I suppose.”

  “I see. You sound surprisingly upbeat for a woman who has spent the entire day in the company of a man who supposedly annoys you, doing something that you wouldn’t have been caught dead doing a week ago.”

  “Times change.”

  “And your attitude toward Josh—has that changed, too?”

  “I always said he was nice. He just got on my nerves last night at your place.”

  Maggie laughed. “Oh, this is too good. I’m picking up Melanie and coming over. I want to hear more about this fishing excursion.”

  “Forget about it,” Ashley said emphatically.

  “Why?”

  “Because Josh is coming back for dinner. I’m cooking the fish.”

  “You’re cooking the fish?” Maggie repeated so skeptically it was insulting.

  “Yes, dammit. You could help and just tell me how. It’ll save me having to look up a recipe.”

  “Who’s cleaning the fish?” Maggie asked.

  “Josh.”

  “Thank God. For a minute, I thought the world might be coming to an end.”

  “Stop it. Are you going to help me out here or not, Maggie?”