by Julie Miller
“Well, he isn’t that same carefree young man who used to jump out of my rose bushes and startle me when I went outside to hang up laundry.” Ah, yes. That had been a favorite pastime for what, three? four? years. Her mother was right—Tess had only seen glimpses of that boyish personality in Travis since his return. He’d become much more moody. More serious. Edgier. And if possible, that made her want to be an important part of his life all the more. “He has burdens on his shoulders that he never used to have. Could be the job. Your father came home from Vietnam with the same hard look to him. The experience changed him somehow. I had to learn to accept the new man he was, and fall in love with him all over again.”
Tess’s heart welled at the fond emotion she heard in her mother’s voice. They all had an empty place in their hearts that her father’s love used to fill. She stood and wrapped an arm around her mother’s shoulders. “We were lucky to have him, Mom.”
“That we were.”
Amy rose and joined them on the opposite side. “He was a good man.”
Maggie nodded and hugged them both before shooing them back to their seats to finish breakfast. “So is Travis McCormick. I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. I just hope he works through whatever’s troubling him. He’s lucky he has a trusted friend like you he can talk to.”
Tess choked down a bite of cheesy egg that suddenly tasted like rubber. Right. Talk. Except for that first night on the beach, she and Travis hadn’t exactly done a lot of talking. He’d pointedly steered their conversations toward a new topic whenever anything serious had come up. Like returning to Special Ops in two weeks. Like following doctor’s orders toward as full a physical recovery as possible. Like fear of failure or mistaking awakening desire for falling in love. None of those topics had been open for discussion, though she imagined he sorely needed to talk. Maybe she should concentrate more on being there for him as a friend and worry less about whether or not she made a lousy lover.
“And you?” Maggie refilled Amy’s coffee, thankfully turning her concern to her other daughter. “What makes you so cheery this morning?”
“Phone call from Barry.”
Enough said. Maggie Bartlett had no problem calling a spade a spade. “What did the Butthead want this time?”
“Sympathy. His girlfriend dumped him.”
“Maybe that bimbette is smarter than we gave her credit for.”
Finally, all three of them could share a laugh and Tess began to feel rejuvenated for the coming day. She still had issues to resolve, but support from her family would never be one of them.
With worries for her children temporarily appeased, Maggie snapped on her fanny pack and prepared to join her friend for some serious shopping. “The three of us are still on for lunch, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“You bet, Mom. You’ll have to show us all the treasures you and Nancy find.”
Maggie tucked in a folding umbrella as well. “Be sure to take your umbrellas or rain-coats. We’re supposed to have a storm coming in late this afternoon or this evening.” She popped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, my goodness. You two are grown women. You both have sense enough to come in out of the rain. And if you don’t, it’s your problem. Right?”
They laughed again.
“Hugs all ’round? Love you.” Maggie kissed Tess’s cheek. Then she hugged and kissed Amy. “Love you. You know, Morty Camden is a very nice man. You could do worse, believe me. Wait, you have done worse. Still love you.”
“Bye, Mom.” Amy urged her toward the door.
“Bye.”
Once they’d sent Maggie on her way to the festival, Tess sat down to quickly polish off the last of her breakfast. “Ooh. A ‘nice’ rating from Mom. Is that the kiss of death for a date with Morty?”
Amy rolled her eyes. “I already said yes. It was the least I could do after dumping on him after talking to Barry last night.”
“I bet that wasn’t pretty.”
“Not very. But since Morty didn’t run away, I figured I owed him. So he’s taking me to dinner and then along the historic Bay Walk to see the old shops that are open late this week.” Amy poured the last of her coffee down the sink and started loading the dishwasher. “I guess we’ll see if I can be content with nice and boring, or if I’m destined to have another bad boy in my future.” She winked over her shoulder with a suggestive smile. “Are you and Travis planning another late night?”
A wink? Was Amy still hoping for a permanent union of the Bartlett and McCormick clans? “Just what do you think is going on between Travis and me?”
“Something interesting, I hope. His nickname is Action Man.”
Tess refused to be baited by Amy’s nudge-nudge, wink-wink tone. Sex normally was a subject she was comfortable discussing with her sister, but until she had a better idea of where this was going with Travis—or if their two week deal would even continue after last night’s embarrassing retreat—Tess wasn’t prepared to share. She rinsed and added her dishes to Amy’s stack. “I have to work the concession stand until the street dance is over.”
“Maybe he’ll pay you a surprise visit.”
“Maybe.” The doorbell rang, saving her from more of Amy’s romantic speculation. “I’ll get it.”
Tess returned to the kitchen minutes later, her arms filled with a cut-glass vase, a dozen long-stemmed red roses and a mystery.
“Wow.” Amy dried her hands and came to the table to sniff the fragrant display. “Nice. Somebody spent a fortune on you.”
“They can’t be for me.” Tess held out the card. “There’s no name. It isn’t signed, either. But the delivery man verified it had been ordered for our address. I have no reason to expect anything like this. You?”
Amy raised her hands in surrender. “Don’t look at me.”
“What about Barry?”
First, a phone call, then an expensive gift to score some points. It wouldn’t be the first time Amy’s ex had tried to buy forgiveness. “He wouldn’t dare.”
“He wants you back.”
“If he thinks this’ll do the trick, then he knows damn well where he can stick his roses. Besides, he’d take credit for it if he’d spent this kind of money. What does the card say?” Amy’s frown echoed Tess’s own confusion as she read the typed message out loud. “‘Can’t wait to see you again. I’ll find you when the time is right.’ Huh?”
“Is it me, or is that message more creepy than romantic? ‘When the time is right’ for what?” Tess had a bad feeling about the extravagant gift.
Maybe the anonymous note was completely innocent. Poorly worded, but not a threat. But Travis had spooked her enough last night with his mysterious spy in the alley that the idea of a secret admirer for her or her sister held little appeal.
“Morty?” Tess suggested. She hoped.
“We haven’t even gone out on our first date. Why would he send flowers?”
“To cheer you up?” Tess was exploring all their possibilities. “You were pretty upset last night.”
“That’d be an awful lot of money to spend on a woman he barely knows.”
“He likes you.”
“I don’t think so.” Amy shook her head, expressing her doubt. “He doesn’t strike me as the grand-gesture kind of guy.” She snapped her fingers as an idea struck. “Maybe they’re for Mom.”
“That doesn’t change the creep factor.”
Amy agreed. “Wait a minute. Why wouldn’t a man send flowers to you?” Her gaze wandered past the bouquet and landed on Tess. Big Sis thought she knew something. “These aren’t exactly the type of flowers a man sends because you had a nice ‘chat.’ Is there something going on with you and Travis?”
“No,” Tess answered automatically. Other than her father and a couple of prom dates, men had never sent her flowers. Of course, she’d never given a man a hand job behind the candy counter before, either. Maybe it was his way of thanking her? Apologizing? Encouraging her to try again? “Our relationship’s not like that. It’s…�
�� completely skewed after last night’s events.
“It’s what?”
“It’s none of your business.” Taking in a deep, steadying breath, Tess slid the card into the pocket of her shorts, held up her watch and headed for the front door. Travis was the one she needed to be talking to about last night, not Amy. Even if she came off sounding like an insecure dope, he was the only one who could provide answers. “If I’m leaving early for lunch, I don’t want to be late for work. I’ll call the florist and see if they can track down the sender for us.”
Amy followed Tess to the door. “I’ll talk to Mom and see if she knows anything. Things are getting that interesting with Travis, huh?”
Tess paused in the open doorway. She should have known her sister’s curiosity wouldn’t be easily dismissed. They had talked about so many things over the years in confidence and commiseration. But she wasn’t sure she could explain what was happening between her and Travis—she wasn’t sure she understood it completely herself. She wanted him, as a friend and as a lover, and maybe even as something more. She just wished she knew which role she should be playing.
“Interesting doesn’t begin to describe it,” she said and let the door bang shut behind her.
“I WISH IT WOULD just rain and get it over with,” Nixa Newhaven fretted. “It’s keeping away the tourists.”
The ominous drumbeat of thunder rumbling in the distance drew Tess back to the service window at the front of the concession stand. Clouds were rolling in, high and wispy, bringing a tinge of green to the sky before the sun completely disappeared below the horizon. “Something’s brewing out over the water, all right. Hopefully, it’ll hit tonight and blow out this humidity that’s been hanging on all day.”
Weather had been the most exciting topic she’d discussed all evening. Not that Tess had had many customers to converse with. She’d even sent home the other volunteer with a visiting grandson because there just wasn’t enough to keep two people busy. She held up the hotdog she’d wrapped in foil. “Ketchup, mustard, pickles or onions?”
“The works.”
Tess returned to the work station and completed Nixa’s order. When she slid the hotdog and drink across the counter, she couldn’t help but recall how she’d sat on this very counter last night and let Travis have his way with her. She flattened her palms across the cool Formica and closed her eyes, replaying every gasp, every scream, inside her head. Remembering how she’d gripped the edge of the counter in glorious agony and—
“Tess?”
Tess snatched her hands away as if the venerable Miss Newhaven had actually caught her in the act. But it was a five-dollar bill the older woman held up, not an accusatory finger.
Breathe easy, girl, Tess coached herself. She wanted to change her reputation in Ashton, but she didn’t want to be known as the village crackpot. Masking her startled panic behind an apologetic smile, she got Nixa her change, then grabbed the paper towels and disinfectant spray and cleaned the counter for the umpteenth time that day.
Another swipe still couldn’t erase the erotic memory. And since Nixa didn’t seem to be in any rush to leave her quiet dining alcove beneath the awning, Tess made another attempt at idle conversation.
“Business certainly has been slow tonight.” Though not so slow that she could close up and go check out some of the waking nightlife herself. Every now and then a couple or group of friends would pass by, and most stopped for a snack or drink. “It’s early in the week though, so I wouldn’t worry. Crowds tend to start small and build up to Friday and Saturday, anyway. Unless something dangerous blows in, I imagine the streets will fill up the way they have in the past.”
“I hope so.” Nixa nibbled through her hotdog with the ladylike reserve of a dowager empress, so Tess was a little taken aback when the older woman stuck her fingers in her mouth and noisily licked the smeared condiments from each tip. “Mmmm.”
“Good stuff, huh?” Tess had to laugh.
“Divine.” Nixa dabbed her lips with a paper napkin and giggled as though her gusto for fatty meat products was as naughty a secret as Tess’s own favorite concession stand indulgence. “I look forward to one of these foot-longs every year. It’s one of the few times I really blow the diet my doctor has had me on for ages.”
“Sometimes, a gal’s just got to live a little.”
“I used to think that way.” Nixa’s euphoric smile was already beginning to fade. “I’m sure I’ll be paying for this in the morning.”
“But you enjoyed it, didn’t you?” Please let her say yes. If Tess wound up the grande dame of Ashton, Virginia, forty or fifty years down the road, she didn’t want to be so set in her tame, predictable ways that she couldn’t even splurge on one hotdog.
Tess breathed a sigh of relief when Nixa nodded.
“I did. It’s nice to know there are some traditions we can depend on year after year.” Nixa reached through the serving window and patted Tess’s hand. “Just like the town depends on you, dear.”
How could a compliment sound so sad? Had Nixa ever yearned for something more than what she had? Were there adventures in her life to look back on? Affairs? Summer loves?
The wind suddenly picked up, whipping a cool, damp blast of air off the bay. Nixa made a grab, but her napkin and paper cup blew off the shelf. “Oh, my.”
But before she could turn and scoot after her trash, a man appeared. He stomped the cup to anchor it while he bent down to collect the napkin. Then he straightened to a good six feet of well-proportioned height.
“Here you go, ma’am.” The thirtyish man in pressed jeans and a silky cotton shirt gave the items a gallant toss into the trash.
Nixa smiled coyly, blushing at the attention. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Tess might be blushing, too, if the raven-haired hunk had turned that sexy, megawatt smile on her. He lacked the scars and laugh lines that gave Travis’s face such interesting character, but dress those broad shoulders and chiseled features in a uniform and he could be the poster boy for whatever branch of the military he obviously served in. Yum-mee.
“Well…” Was Nixa preening? She smoothed her flawless silver hair from her forehead to her neck, and patted the trim bun at her nape. “Welcome to Ashton. It’s so nice to meet a gentleman with manners.”
“I find I catch more bees with honey than with vinegar, ma’am.”
“Too true. Too true.” The prim, predictable Miss Newhaven was flirting with the young stud! Tess didn’t know whether to cheer the old girl on or bemoan the fact the guy hadn’t even noticed her yet. After another few exchanges about the coming storm and festival events, Nixa turned to acknowledge her. Her normally wan cheeks had flushed a healthy pink. “Goodnight, dear. I’d better be going. I’m not fond of driving after dark.”
“Goodnight, Miss Newhaven.”
“Enjoy your evening, ma’am.”
“Enjoy yours.”
After Nixa’s departure, Stud Man pulled out his wallet and walked up to the window. From this angle, she could see that the man’s eyes were a clear icy blue—beautiful in color, but mysteriously hard to read. They sure grew ’em handsome wherever this guy came from.
“What can I get you?” Tess asked.
He looked through the screen to the displays inside. “What’s good?”
“Everything. Depends on what you’re hungry for.” Maybe it was this guy who brought out the flirt in women of all ages. Suddenly, every innocent word they exchanged seemed laden with a double meaning.
“What do you recommend?”
“Depends on what you’re in the mood for. Something spicy? Something sweet?”
“I like that combination.”
Then again, maybe she was learning a trick or two about how she presented herself to men from her encounters with Travis. “Okay, then a hotdog or nachos? And how about something chocolate?”
“Hotdog. No pickles,” he said and Tess slid around the display shelves to begin filling his order. “And I�
�ll take the chocolate peanut butter cups and an iced tea.”
“You’re in town for the festival, I assume?”
“I’ve been here a few times over the years. Actually, I’m looking for an old friend. Maybe you know him. He’s sort of a local hero type.”
Tess wrapped the ends of the foil around the hotdog. “I might. What’s his name?”
“Travis McCormick.”
Travis. I want you. Holding the warm dog in her hands instantly took her back to last night again. She barely suppressed a crazy urge to giggle at the thought. Her hands trembled and every pore in her body suddenly sprang open to release the heat surging inside her. Man, she had to get away from this food, this shack, so she could quit thinking about sex with Travis. How badly she wanted it, how desperately she wanted to improve her skills so that, drunk or sober, he would know it was her each and every time they came together. She wanted to shake this driving need to know that, no matter what form it took, their lovemaking would be a memory worth keeping.
But with no escape from her present drudgery in sight, she quickly set the food on the counter and sought out a colder task to cool her libido. She took her time filling a cup with ice and adding cold liquid before trusting herself to speak calmly and coherently again. “I know Trav. I haven’t seen him tonight, though. Did you two serve together?”
“Back in the day. Since I was in town, I thought I’d buy him a drink.”
“Are you from Special Ops, too?”
“No, I’m with the promotions and personnel department. I make sure we have the right people where they need to be.”
“Oh?” Oh. Maybe she’d been worrying about the wrong problem. Did this man bear the news Trav had been waiting for? More importantly, was it what Trav wanted to hear? Or would this man’s announcement destroy the career and ego of her very best friend? “And you want to talk to Travis? Is it important? I could call him.”
“You know him well enough to get him away from whatever he’s doing?”
She wouldn’t have offered, otherwise. “Yes.”
For a few silent moments, he held her gaze and considered her offer. But then he shrugged off her curiosity. “Nah, it’s not that big a deal. I just thought if he was around, I’d buy him a drink. I can call him myself if I need to.”
