by Donna Fasano
“Sorry,” he told her. “Gotta run. There’s a tempting tourist waiting for me at Seacrets.”
Hot tears rushed to her eyes, scorching her eye sockets. Jealousy and resentment walloped her with the force of a well-aimed baseball bat…
And she gasped her way out of the dream turned nightmare.
“What the hell?” She blinked in the darkness, and once she realized she was alone, she huffed out a breath meant to dispel the emotion and the achy need that tensed every muscle in her body.
She kicked and shoved her way out of the tangle of top sheet and blanket to sit on the edge of the mattress. A dull remnant of lust continued to pulse low in her abdomen.
Why on earth had her subconscious conjured that dream? For sexual release, sure. That was understandable. But what was up with those fireman’s boots? And Brad’s comment about the tempting tourist… and those overwhelming feelings of—
Cathy shook her head and stood up.
The glowing numbers on the clock told her she had another hour to sleep, but she sure as heck wasn’t interested in trying. Taking a deep breath, she headed to the bathroom.
What a way to start the day.
* * *
Maple syrup dribbled down Mia’s chin and plopped on the top of Cathy’s desk. The little girl had arrived at the back door of the kitchen in her pajamas and fuzzy slippers with the coal black kitten tucked securely under her arm, saying her daddy told her if she wanted to bring Midnight for a visit she had to do it before the customers arrived. Cathy whipped up a batch of silver dollar blueberry pancakes and then the two of them went into the office to keep the cat away from the cooking area.
“She’s so soft.” Cathy made kissy noises and Midnight mewed. Like every other animal, this one loved to be scratched behind the ears.
“She’s my favoritest thing in the whole wide world,” Mia said. She wiped her mouth on her bare arm.
“There’s a napkin there,” Cathy reminded her.
Mia promptly picked up the napkin, dabbed at her already clean lips, and picked up her fork. “These pancakes are really delicious. Blueberries are my very favorite.”
Cathy smiled. “Mine, too.”
In the silent seconds that followed, Cathy cradled Midnight and wiggled her fingers several inches above the animal’s front paws, enticing her to play. The kitten watched for a moment and then batted at Cathy’s hand.
“Are you comin’ to the baby party?”
Mia’s question came out of the blue.
“The baby party?” Cathy went still, her voice softening as she repeated the phrase.
Sara’s baby shower. Heather was planning the shower.
Several emotions welled up in her at the same time—annoyance, frustration, sadness. She should be helping with the plans. She was Sara’s friend, too. But causing a ruckus would only cause Sara more stress than she was already under. Heather was obviously still plenty angry, and that’s why she was making plans on her own, Cathy guessed.
She could poke, prod, and vex with those smartass texts she’d been sending, but until Heather decided to forgive her, there was really nothing substantive Cathy could do except wait it out.
Patience wasn’t a virtue Cathy possessed.
Mia’s beautiful dark eyes went round. “Did you know Sara has a baby in her tummy?”
Thankfully, before Cathy could respond, Mia continued.
“I’m not sure how it got in there.” The child’s brow wrinkled. “I asked Daddy and he ’splained it.” She shook her head. “But I’m still confused.”
Please don’t ask me any questions! Please. Please. Please! The thought ricocheted through her brain like a ping pong ball that had been given a hefty swat. That’s all she needed; Heather’s already heated anger being further fueled by some misstatement Cathy made to Mia about the birds and the bees.
Without thought, Mia dropped her fork, twisted her wrist, and licked a blob of buttery syrup off the fleshy part of her hand. Then she looked up at Cathy.
“You don’t know either, huh?” Mia picked up the napkin and rubbed at the sticky spot on her hand. Her mouth screwed up as though she were in deep thought. Softly, she asked, “How’d that baby get… in there?”
Cathy picked up Midnight in one hand and stroked the kitten’s back with the other. Casually, she said, “I’m sure if you ask your dad he’ll be happy to explain it all again.”
She seriously doubted Daniel would be happy about it. But that wasn’t Cathy’s concern. She’d clearly overstepped the bounds when she’d told Daniel about Heather’s most vulnerable secret, but Cathy had no problem whatsoever steering clear of the how-do-babies-get-in-there conversation.
She wasn’t going there. Nope.
The sound of keys tapping on the front door had her thanking her lucky stars. She leaned forward and peered out her office door. Al and Lyle stood in the yellowy gleam of the outside light.
Cathy stood up. “I’d better get that. There are hungry people at the door. Time to open up the café.”
Those ornery, lovely men! There was a free cup of coffee in their very near future due to their serendipitous arrival.
Mia immediately climbed down from the desk chair. “I gotta go,” she said as she rounded the desk. She scooped Midnight out of Cathy’s hand. “Daddy said I need to come home as soon as customers start coming.”
Relief flooded Cathy and she released a pent up breath. What a wonderful, obedient child. She grinned.
Just a few minutes later, Cathy poured coffee into mugs for Al and Lyle. She had escorted Mia and Midnight out the back door into the hallway and watched the little girl trek up the stairs that led to The Lonely Loon. The relief she felt over having avoided more of Mia’s questions continued to make her smile.
“Here you go, gentleman,” she nearly sang the words. “Coffee’s on the house this morning.”
Al looked pleasantly surprised and automatically reached for the cream pitcher. Lyle, on the other hand, frowned as he leaned away from the counter.
“What’s going on?” he asked Cathy. “You don’t give away free coffee. Is this left over from yesterday?”
“Lyle, quit examining the horse’s teeth,” Al warned.
The other man scowled. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Al sighed. “You know. The gift horse? You don’t look in its mouth?”
Lyle waved him off grumpily. “Bah.”
“It’s a fresh pot, Lyle,” Cathy assured him. “Hot and strong.”
“I’d say that’s exactly what he needs,” Al murmured, “to draw out his sunny disposition.”
She chuckled as she plunked two blueberry muffins onto plates and set them down in front of them. “On the house.”
“Okay.” Al leaned back, arching his brows and nodding at Lyle. “I agree with you now. Something really is up with her.”
“Maybe she’s afraid no one is going to bid on her for the lunch auction,” Lyle surmised.
Al swiveled his head to look at Cathy. “But we already told you we would pool our cash.”
“It has nothing to do with the auction.” Cathy went to put the lid back on the muffins. “You two saved me from an awkward conversation with Mia. She’s wondering how that baby got into Sara’s tummy.”
Instantly, both men understood the reason for Cathy’s gratitude.
“I hope you sent her back upstairs to Heather and her dad,” Al said as he stuck his spoon in his mug and stirred.
“That’s exactly what I did.”
The three of them were still laughing and joking about the kiddy-talk pitfalls she had barely avoided when the wait staff arrived, and Cathy slipped into her office with them to dole out the day’s table assignments.
Soon customers filled the café. Bacon, sausage patties, and ham sizzled on the wide surface of the screaming hot grill along with eggs, pancakes, and hash browns.
She had just plated three lemon ricotta pancakes, a new recipe she was trying out on the menu, when she overheard Ly
le let out a long-winded whistle.
“He must be mortgaged up the eyeballs,” he told Al.
Cathy added three sausage patties to the plate and walked the order to the counter. “Order’s up!” she called. Then curiosity drew her over to the men sitting at the counter.
“Who are you gossiping about today?” she asked them.
“Brad,” Al said. “The clerk over at Town Hall told me he’s the new owner of the arcade on Stargrass Avenue.”
Lyle tapped the counter with his spoon. “That place takes up a whole block. Must be worth a cool million.”
“Or more,” Al added.
“No way.” Cathy scoffed. “He doesn’t have that kind of money. And he doesn’t have collateral for that kind of loan.” She shook her head hard enough to set her pony tail swinging as she repeated, “No way.”
Al lifted his shoulders and hands, palm up, in an exaggerated shrug. “I’m just telling you what I heard.”
Three orders came in right on top of each other, and Cathy had to scurry back into the kitchen. She added another half pound of bacon to the grill and poured out three portions of pancake batter, then slid a baking pan covered with biscuits into the oven, all the while feeling a tense consternation knitting her brow.
Either the clerk had given Al some bad information, or Brad was getting himself into some deep doo-doo.
Chapter Five
The noise of the shop-vac blared in Brad’s left ear. He shifted the dust mask to cover his nose and then stuck his whole upper body, along with the vacuum’s hose, into the now-empty display cabinet. Dust, bits of paper, and years of accumulated grunge disappeared into the nozzle. He could hear the debris pinging its way through the hose as it was sucked from every surface, corner, and crevice. It was clear the place hadn’t been very well maintained, and having sat empty and unused hadn’t helped.
Once it was clean, the cabinet would display various toys, from small plastic doodads to more elaborate prizes, that kids could choose from in exchange for the coupon tickets spit out by the coin-operated game machines. Brad remembered, as a kid, spending hours playing pinball machines or Donkey Kong or Pac-Man, and then saving up his tickets, sometimes for weeks, just so he could have that one perfect prize.
Looking up through the hazy glass shelf, he noted that one of the light bulbs in the roof of the cabinet needed replacing and he made a mental note to buy bulbs at the hardware store. Dirt and dust were his main enemies at the moment; every surface inside the arcade had been covered in a gray film. He’d hired a small crew, and slowly but surely, the place was being scrubbed down, worked over, and oiled up so he could open before the season ended.
Jack had been a godsend. While Brad was busy with life guard duties during daylight hours, Jack had been helping to supervise the cleaning crew by popping in several times a day to keep them on track. Luckily, Brad had found most all of the arcade games in working order once he’d had the electricity turned on, and he had Landon working on the machines in need of repair which included two skee ball lanes and one of the animated dinosaurs outside on the mini golf course.
The light tap on the front of the display case had him gazing up through the glass. Jack motioned to him, pointing toward the front door as he mouthed the word visitor. Brad pulled his upper body from the close confines of the cabinet and flipped off the shop-vac.
He looked toward the front of the building and saw that Cathy had stopped near the row of skee ball lanes to talk to Landon. She laughed at something he said, and then Cathy swiveled her head, her gaze latching onto Brad, her perfectly arched eyebrows lifting just a fraction.
He felt like an alley cat caught hacking out yellow feathers, and he had no idea why. Well, that wasn’t quite true. He felt guilty that he hadn’t told her about the arcade himself. Evidently, she’d learned about it from someone else. Cathy sauntered toward him, her Bermuda shorts and next-to-nothing sandals showing off the lean muscles of her sexy calves. She stopped and smiled.
“Hey there, Jack,” she greeted.
His friend nodded. “How are you, Cathy?”
“Fine,” she quipped. “You?”
“Good,” Jack said. “Real good.”
She turned her attention to Brad, her smile never wavering as she stood on one side of the waist-high display cabinet and he stood on the other. Despite the odd feeling in his gut, the corners of his mouth drew back, curling into a smile.
Two or three awkward seconds ticked by, silent only in the fact that he and Cathy hadn’t exchanged a greeting. The air around, however, was alive with a wild array of noise from pinball machines and other electronic games. Rock music rained down from the speakers in the rafters.
“Well,” Jack told them, lifting the screwdriver he held in his hand, “I’m sure I could find more screws to tighten someplace. See you around, Cathy.”
“See ya, Jack.” Cathy’s deep brown eyes continued to study Brad’s face.
He rounded the cabinet and reached out to glide his fingers along her bare upper arm. She felt good, looked good. Silky smooth and pale as moonlight.
“It’s good to see you,” he told her.
Her lids lowered in a slow blink and her lips compressed slightly, but she didn’t resist when he leaned forward to kiss her cheek. Her strawberry blond hair smelled of coconut and almonds, and a spark of desire clenched in his belly.
He stepped back. “I want to hug you but I’m covered in dust.” Without waiting for her to respond, he asked, “So who told you? How’d you find out?”
Her chuckle rippled over him like shallow waves of sun-warmed sea water.
“It’s a small town, Brad. You know that.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Nobody can keep a secret for long.”
“I wasn’t keeping a secret,” he assured her. Then he looked out across the arcade. “I just wanted to get the place cleaned up a bit before I told you.”
“Things do look a little run down.”
He tamped down the insult welling in him and sighed. She was only speaking the truth.
“We’re working on that.”
“We?”
“Yeah,” was all he said. But his hope that she’d leave it alone was quickly dashed.
“Well, I know Landon didn’t go in on this venture with you,” she said. “Sara would have told me. So this is something you cooked up with Jack? How long have you been thinking about going into business together?”
The curiosity she exhibited was normal, he guessed. As was her assumption of a business partner. He expected the same sort of questions from family and friends, once they discovered he owned the arcade. But something in her tone poked him like a blunt-tipped stick to the ribs.
“Jack has nothing to do with this,” he said. “Well, other than helping me get the place ready to open. No, this is all me.”
Her dark eyes widened just a fraction. A stranger might not have noticed, but he could read this woman. Like words on a page.
Before she could ask any more questions, he took her hand in his. “Come on. I want to show you something.”
He tugged her along with him toward the north wall of the building. He shoved open the door of a long, narrow room, flipped on the light, and pulled her inside.
The cleaning crew hadn’t touched this area. Cobwebs draped in the corners and dust floated in the air. Replacement parts for games sat on the counters lining the walls, a half dozen paint cans were stacked on the floor, plastic and metal containers were filled with nails and screws, nuts and bolts. This was clearly a workroom used to repair the machines, but Brad had other ideas.
“I’m going to turn this into a snack bar.” He moved several feet into the room and opened his arms waist high. “I’ll open this wall and put a counter here for seating.” He turned a hundred and eighty degrees. “A small grill here for burgers and hot dogs. A deli fridge here to hold sandwich fixings. A deep fryer for French fries. A pizza oven back there, maybe.”
“It’s an awfully tight space.”<
br />
She’d followed him further into the room.
“Once that wall is removed and the counter is installed, it’ll feel bigger. More open. And there’s a broom closet back there,” he told her, indicating the wall opposite the door where they’d entered. “It’ll give me at least six more feet of space.”
“Well… maybe…” Doubt dulled the edges of her tone.
Dust and grime be damned. He turned to face her, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her close. He kissed her mouth hard and then grinned down into her beautiful, surprised face.
“I’m excited about this, Cathy,” he said.
The lines on her forehead softened and a hint of a smile toyed with her lips. She glanced down where their bodies were pressed together and then lifted her eyes to his.
“Believe me. I get that,” she teased.
He laughed, stepping away from her. “I realize I have to get approval from the town. But I’ve got time. Once I get the paperwork sorted and I find the right construction crew, I figure the snack bar could be up and running come spring, don’t you think?”
As he spoke, the flat of her hand made contact with the raw plywood counter, and she immediately pulled it back, her nose wrinkling. She swiped her palm off on the butt of her shorts.
“That sounds like a reasonable time frame to me.”
“So do you think you could help me?”
Her dark gaze found his and he rushed to clarify.
“I’d like some help with the planning,” he said. “What equipment should go where, the width of the counters, how large the refrigeration unit will need to be and the best place to put it. That kind of thing.”
She licked her dusky lips.
“And next spring,” he continued, “I’ll need help staffing the place. I have no idea what makes a good short order cook. You could sit in on the interviews with me.” He stopped long enough to swallow. “If you don’t mind.”
Finally, she said, “I don’t mind.”
Relief flooded through him and he wrapped her in a bear hug. The happiness that filled his chest made him want to dance around with her, but the narrow floor space made that impossible.
