Summer Secrets

by Barbara Freethy

  "Maybe someone else in your family will be more accommodating."

  "There's no story, Tyler. Let it go."

  "I can't," he said as he stood up, using his height to remind her that he was in charge of this situation.

  She frowned, throwing back her shoulders and lifting up her chin, as if that could give her a few extra inches of courage. He found the gesture strangely appealing. He liked the way she didn't back down. In fact, he was liking way too much about her. He wished they had met under different circumstances. But, then again, different circumstances would not have brought them together.

  "How much will this article pay you?" she asked abruptly.

  "That depends on how good it is."

  What if I paid you to stop writing it? What would you say to that?"

  "I'd say you don't have enough money."

  It can't be worth that much. A couple thousand dollars? You could leave tomorrow, earning the same amount of money for absolutely no work. It's a good offer; you should take it."

  He smiled as he gazed into her blue eyes. Innocent eyes, he realized. Eyes that expressed pain and hurt and a discomfort with the whole situation. "And you should realize," he said deliberately, "that offering a bribe to a reporter raises the curiosity level. You obviously have something to hide." He reached out and let his finger drift down the side of her face. "What on earth are you trying so hard to protect? Or maybe it's not a what. Maybe it's a who. What happened during that race, Kate? What are you so afraid I'm going to find out?"

  Chapter Eight

  He was impossible, Kate fumed, as she strode briskly away from the restaurant. She didn't bother with her car. She needed to walk off the anger and frustration building inside her. She should never have agreed to have dinner with Tyler or thought she could handle him by telling him just a little. A little would never be enough for a man like him. He was ambitious and ruthless, determined to get what he wanted.

  Why couldn't she just accept that she had absolutely no way of making stubborn, strong-willed men in her life do what she wanted them to do? Her father had certainly never caved in to her demands. Why should Tyler be any different?

  Kate stopped abruptly as three people spilled out of a local bar, stumbling across the sidewalk, obviously having tossed back a few drinks. She recognized one of them, a young man who worked in the marina office.

  "Hi, Kate," he said with a cheerful slur. "Your sister is one hell of a good singer."

  "What?" she asked, not sure she'd heard him right. He tipped his head toward the bar he'd just left. "Check it out."

  Kate stepped inside the doorway of Jake's. The room was smoky, the tables packed with tourists, and the music loud enough to demand attention. Or maybe it was the singer.

  Kate's jaw dropped at the sight of Caroline holding a microphone in her hand. Her sister was dressed in a micro-mini denim skirt, knee-high stiletto boots, and a spaghetti-strap top that barely covered her breasts. But it wasn't her looks that took Kate by surprise, it was her voice. Her sister was belting out a pop song as if she'd been doing it all her life. And she wasn't bad. In fact, she was pretty good. Apparently the crowd thought so, too, jumping into brisk applause when the song ended.

  "Thank you," Caroline said, her face aglow with excitement. "That was fun. And now more of Deke and the Devils." She waved her hand toward the band behind her, which broke into a fast beat.

  Kate watched her sister step down from the stage and move slowly through the crowd, chatting with friends and strangers alike. She seemed to laugh every other minute, as if she'd never had such a good time before. It struck her then how much her sister and her father liked the spotlight. Being the center of attention was their favorite place to be.

  Kate frowned as she saw a man approach Caroline. It was Mike Stanaway, and he was forty if he was a day, a rough, bearded man with dark eyes and a grim expression. Ashley had mentioned something about Caroline and Mike, but she'd dismissed it as a rumor. Now she wasn't so sure.

  Caroline didn't appear happy to see him. They exchanged a few words. He waved a hand toward the door, but she shook her head. After a moment, he shrugged and walked away. Caroline sat down on a bar stool, then lit up a cigarette. As she took her first puff, she saw Kate. Her smile faded, and a defensive expression swept across her face. For a moment it looked like she was going to hide the cigarette, but then she took another defiant puff, got up, and walked across the room.

  "What are you doing here?" she asked.

  "I heard you singing."

  "That was just a spur of the moment thing. Deke thought it might be fun."

  "You were good."

  "I was?" Caroline asked, that familiar little sister insecurity in her voice. "Did you really think so?"

  "Yes. I can't remember when I last heard you sing. It must have been when we were on the boat."

  "Probably." Caroline paused. "Are you going to hang out?"

  "No," Kate said with a shake of her head. This wasn't her scene. It was too loud, too chaotic, too young. Her sister would think she was crazy if she said that. After all, she wasn't even thirty yet, but sometimes she felt a lot older. "You shouldn't be smoking, Caroline."

  "You're not my mother," Caroline said for probably the thousandth time. In fact, if Kate had a dollar for every time she'd heard those words from either Ashley or Caroline, she'd be a millionaire by now.

  "It's bad for you," she persisted.

  "Maybe that's why I like it." Caroline coughed at the end of her sentence, making a mockery of her words.

  "I can see how much you like it." Kate took the cigarette out of Caroline's hand and walked over to the bar, snuffing it out in a nearby ashtray.

  "I'll just light another one."

  "We have more important problems than your smoking." Kate pulled her sister over to a quieter corner. "I just met with Tyler Jamison. He's not going to quit digging into our lives. He's been talking to Sean and God knows who else. I don't know what to do."

  Caroline looked at her in amazement "You don't know what to do? You always know what to do."

  "I don't this time, all right?" Kate snapped. "I need some help. I need to find a way to distract him."

  "Well, that's easy. The best way to distract a man is with sex, or the possibility of sex. In fact, anything to do with sex."

  "I'm not going to have sex with him." Kate was shocked her sister would even suggest such a thing.

  "He doesn't have to know that. Flirt with him, Kate. Kiss him. Get his mind off the past and on the present and the future."

  "That's your advice? Why did I bother to ask?"

  "I have no idea why you asked, since you never take my advice. But that doesn't mean it isn't good." Caroline laughed as a young man slipped his arms around her waist and nuzzled her neck from behind.

  "When are you going to run away with me?" Curt Walker asked.

  "When you let me cut your hair," Caroline said, twisting around in his arms to give him a kiss on the cheek..

  "Kiss me on the lips, and I'll let you shave my head," Curt said.

  Caroline looked over at Kate. "See how easy it is? You ought to try it. You might even like it."

  Kate turned away as her sister gave Curt a flirtatious kiss. Everything was so simple for Caroline, so easy. She walked out of the bar, telling herself firmly there was no way she was going to kiss Tyler Jamison. It was a ridiculous idea. She didn't know why she was even thinking about it. Nor did she understand why her cheeks were suddenly warm and her heart was beating so fast. She didn't want to kiss Tyler. She couldn't want that. And even if she did, it wouldn't work.

  Tyler wanted a story. He didn't want her. She'd have to find some other way to distract him. She waved a hand in front of her face, wishing for a cool breeze, but strangely enough there was not a speck of wind tonight. Another bad sign. She would have to be patient, wait Tyler out. He wasn't a man to stay in one place for long -- wind or no wind.

  * * *

  Sunday morning had come and gone, and Tyle
r was getting nowhere fast. He stopped at the edge of the pier, out of breath and out of patience with himself. His run around the town had done little more than raise his pulse; it certainly hadn't brought him the peace or the answers he craved. He needed a different approach, a new plan. Kate wasn't going to tell him anything willingly. That was certainly clear. It was also clear that she was a very good candidate to be Amelia's mother. She'd been engaged to Jeremy, planning to get married, then her fiance was killed, and she was devastated. Sounded like a good reason to give a baby away. At least the best reason he'd heard so far.

  If Kate was Amelia's mother, Mark was in trouble, because as far as he could see, Kate was a good person. She ran her own business, owned a house, took care of her family She didn't appear to have any overt vices. She was damn near perfect.

  He scowled at the thought, knowing that he liked her much more than he should. He needed to stay objective and detached; otherwise, he would have no hope of helping his brother.

  The sound of an argument brought his head around. About fifty feet away a couple appeared to be arguing heatedly about something. The man tried to pull the woman into his arms, but she pushed him away with a small cry. Tyler tensed. There was no way he would stand by and watch some jerk hurt a woman. He moved closer, assessing the situation as he did so. The woman's back was to him, but he had a clear view of the man. He was older, forties maybe, a rough beard on his face, a tattoo on his right biceps. He was strong, muscled; a man who would be formidable in a fight.

  "I can't do this anymore," he heard the woman say.

  "You don't have a choice," the man replied, grabbing her arm once again.

  "Just let me go."

  "You don't want that, Caroline. You know you don't."

  Caroline? Tyler's gaze flew to the woman. Sure enough, he recognized that spiky hair. It was Kate's baby sister. He walked quickly down the path. "Everything all right here?" he called.

  The couple split apart. Caroline looked upset. The man appeared wary.

  "Tyler," she said warily. "What are you doing down here?"

  "Jogging. How about you?"

  "Me, too," she said.

  He wondered how she could have been running in a pair of flip flops and cut-off shorts, but be refrained from commenting.

  "Call me later," the bearded man said. "I'll expect to hear from you."

  "Sure, whatever."

  "Are you all right?" Tyler asked when they were alone. He didn't like the desperate look in her eyes, and even though she shrugged off his comment, he had the feeling she was far from all right.

  "You don't have a cigarette, do you? I could really use a hit right now," she said.

  "I don't smoke."

  "That figures."

  "Who was that guy?" he asked.

  She started walking down the path the same way he had come. "A friend."

  "He didn't look too friendly. What's his name?" He fell into step alongside her.

  "Why do you care?"

  "It's the reporter in me."

  Caroline stopped and rested her elbows on the rail overlooking the boats. "Mike Stanaway," she said. "And I don't appreciate the third degree or the questioning look. I don't need a big brother. I already have two big sisters butting into my business."

  "I understand." He leaned on the railing next to her. "There are a lot of boats in the harbor today. Do you still sail?"

  "Sometimes."

  "But you don't race?"

  "Not anymore."

  "You don't miss it?"

  "Sometimes," she said, repeating her earlier answer with a smile. "Is this the best you've got?"

  "Why don't you and your sisters want to talk to me?"

  "I'm talking to you right now. I had dinner with you the other night."

  "And we talked about the different kinds of clam chowder. You prefer the white over the red."

  "Good, you were listening," she said with a laugh, her mood obviously changing. She took in a breath and stretched her arms over her head. "It is a nice day, isn't it? Why can't I just enjoy a beautiful day without wanting more?"

  "More what?"

  "I don't know. More something. Do you ever feel like there's a hole in your stomach that you can't fill, no matter what you try to do?"

  "Every day about four o'clock."

  "I'm not talking about food. I'm talking about life."

  "I'm not that philosophical. I'm usually too busy."

  "Trying to get from one place to the next," she said. "You're not exactly an island-living kind of guy, are you?"

  "I haven't been."

  She sent him a curious look. "Does that mean this place is growing on you?"

  "I make it a rule not to get too attached to any place," he said. "It makes it easier to leave."

  "What if you find somewhere you want to stay?"

  "I haven't yet."

  "You sound like my father."

  Tyler frowned. Kate had made the same comparison the night before, and he hadn't liked it then, either. "Why do you say that?"

  "He's a wanderer, a traveling man, a gypsy at heart."

  "Your father doesn't seem to have wandered too far in recent years."

  "I'm not sure that's completely by choice."

  "He stays for the family?" When she didn't reply to that question, he asked another. "What's your father like?"

  She thought for a moment. "Daddy is one of a kind. He's bold, brave, crazy, selfish at times, generous at others. He's complicated. He's like an upside-down cake. All the ingredients are there, but they're not in the right order. Does that make sense?"

  "It's an interesting description."

  "That's Duncan McKenna -- interesting. Not always smart, not always right, but always interesting."

  "You admire him," Tyler said, reading between the lines.

  "He lives over there." Caroline pointed to the marina. "In a small sailboat. When we first came back here, he rented us all an apartment. He lasted three months there, then he bought the boat and left us on our own. He couldn't sleep on land. He still can't."

  "So you and your sisters stayed together?"

  "For the first year or two. It wasn't easy. We'd lived together on a boat for almost three years, but we were suddenly bumping into each other and tripping over things. We argued all the time. Kate wanted a house. Ashley wanted a job. And I was trying to finish high school, but I didn't really belong there. I was a lot older than the other kids -- maybe not in years, but definitely in life experience. I took an early test and got out as quickly as I could. Once I was out of school, Kate got going on her plan to buy the bookstore, and Ashley started taking classes in photography. We eventually split up and got our own places."

  "What happened to the family home -- the one you lived in before you took off on your three year adventure?"

  "My dad sold the house when we went to sea. He needed the money to finance the trip." She paused. "I wish he hadn't sold it. I think we all would have liked to go back there to live, Kate especially. She loved that house."