Take Me All the Way

by Toni Blake

  “Fletcher McCloud,” he said slowly. “Best man.”

  And Tamra watched as Bethany’s eyes grew slowly large.

  Reece took the tray from her hands. “That’s too much alcohol to risk you dropping it all.”

  Bethany just kept her eyes locked on the cleanly shaven man before her. “You’re not the same Fletcher McCloud I spoke to earlier today.”

  “Afraid I am,” he told her.

  But she shook her head. “No. No, this is like some weird movie where you’ve switched places with some other version of yourself from some other dimension.”

  Tamra realized he looked even more alluring when a slight smile reshaped his face—another thing the beard had hidden. “Is it a good movie?” he asked.

  “Oh, it’s a really good movie,” Bethany replied. “Blockbuster, in fact. I hear there’s Oscar buzz.” Then she bit her lip. “We need to get ready to announce Christy and Jack, but . . . I’ll tell you more about it later. The leading man is to die for.”

  And then she took Cami’s arm and pulled her away to announce the couple’s arrival, leaving Reece to hold the mojitos. He arched one eyebrow in Fletcher’s direction. “Did I miss something?”

  “Like?” Fletcher asked.

  “Like I’m thinking this movie she’s talking about has a hell of a lot of sexual tension in it. Going both ways. And that it’s suddenly not the Kim story anymore.”

  Tamra watched Fletcher draw in a deep breath, then let it back out. “I’m . . . trying to be more open-minded.”

  Reece looked back and forth between the two of them. “Don’t get me wrong—I dig everything that’s happening here. But I’m starting to feel like I’m in the freaking Twilight Zone.”

  A few minutes later, Cami stood next to the small bridal party table—for the couple, maid of honor, and best man. Bethany exited the breezeway, nodding to Cami that Jack and Christy had arrived. The crowd had grown and now most of Coral Cove gathered behind the Happy Crab, mingling and sharing mojitos on a beautiful late September Florida night.

  “Ladies and gentleman,” Cami said through the microphone, “please join me in welcoming the lovely couple who fell in love right here at the Happy Crab Motel, Jack and Christy.”

  Hand in hand, the two came whisking into the party looking like a fairy tale come to life. Christy appeared radiant, her long blond hair adorned with a flowered wreath, the colors echoing that of her dress. Tamra felt the happiness just dripping off them, flowing out to everyone around them who applauded their entrance.

  It would have been easy to be jealous of such idyllic happiness, but Tamra loved them and enjoyed just soaking up their joy in that moment. More than she ever had before, in fact.

  Maybe . . . maybe it has something to do with new hope.

  Hope that maybe, someday, I could have that kind of happiness, too.

  She hadn’t believed that, not really, since she was a young girl. She hadn’t believed that even last week. And she wasn’t sure she truly believed it now, either—but the difference was . . . all these new things in her life. A week ago she hadn’t kissed Jeremy. A week ago she hadn’t seen how pretty she could look. A week ago she’d been more afraid of change than she suddenly was right now, tonight. Tonight, it seemed almost like anything was possible.

  After Jack took the mike and thanked everyone for coming, he went on to say a few words about Coral Cove. “As Christy and I fell in love here, we fell in love with Coral Cove at the same time. You’ve all taken us into your lives, made us part of your community, made this place home for us. Words can’t express how blessed we feel and how much we appreciate you all celebrating our upcoming wedding with us.” Then he lifted one of the mojitos Reece had just shoved into his hand, adding, “To friends, and to always having a place to call home.”

  “And to Jack and Christy!” Bethany said, holding up her glass for a second toast.

  “And to Coral Cove—indeed a true home for many a wayfaring stranger,” Fletcher chimed in, offering up his glass as well.

  After which someone asked, “Who’s that talking?”

  And Fletcher replied, “Mrs. Mendoza, I’m Fletcher. I live around the corner from your shop, on Sea Shell Lane. I buy ice cream from you a couple of times each week.”

  And a low gasp went through the crowd as Mrs. Mendoza said, “The only Fletcher I know is a tightrope walker and you’re not him.”

  “I am,” he assured her. “I shaved, that’s all.”

  And from behind the buffet table Polly piped up. “Hon, if you been hidin’ that face under that beard all this time, that’s a crime. That’s all I’m sayin’. Now can we all eat some seafood before every stray cat in town shows up and turns things ugly here?”

  Laughter rippled through the crowd then, even though Tamra could still feel them all collectively trying to grasp that this was the same quirky fellow they’d come to know at the Sunset Celebration these past few years. Reece took the opportunity to turn the music back up and people got in line for the buffet.

  A few more acquaintances approached Tamra to tell her how great she looked, and though she normally might not have enjoyed standing alone at a party, once they drifted away, she found she didn’t mind a moment to herself at all. To take it all in. To feel her own new sense of confidence and comfort.

  Only . . . where was Jeremy?

  He lived right here at the motel, after all, so it didn’t make sense for him to be late.

  It doesn’t matter. Maybe he’d just be an awkward addition at the party anyway. And it’s not like you really care if he sees you looking pretty.

  Of course, she knew those very thoughts meant that she did care.

  But it’s okay anyway. If he doesn’t come, his loss.

  She almost considered asking Reece which room was his, then walking around the motel and knocking on his door.

  But again, no. You’re being open here—but that doesn’t mean you have to chase him. Especially since you’re still not even sure it’s wise to want him.

  Across the way, Fletcher and Bethany had their heads together, smiling, even laughing. Wow, that’s really happening. She was so happy for Fletcher, so happy he’d finally decided to look beyond Kim.

  A few minutes later, as she straightened the gift table and gathered up envelopes there to make sure none got lost or blew away, someone touched her elbow—and she looked up to find her newly transformed best friend. He smiled at her. “Come join Bethany and me for dinner?”

  “Oh—that’s sweet, but no. I can hang with Cami and Reece, and you two are supposed to sit at the bridal party table anyway. And I wouldn’t dare interrupt the blossom of new romance, regardless.” She winked.

  “We do seem to be hitting it off.”

  “I noticed,” she told him with a smile.

  He tilted his head. “No Jeremy so far?”

  “Nope,” she answered, trying to keep a small smile in place.

  “Well, he’s missing out if he doesn’t get to see you in this dress, Tam.”

  “Thanks,” she said, “but . . . whatever. It’s all good.”

  Though she knew Fletcher could tell she felt a little sad. “Worst case scenario, you see him on the job Monday, right?”

  She nodded. “Actually, I was nervous about seeing him tonight, so I should be relieved, right?”

  “Right,” Fletcher agreed.

  “But . . . I’m not.” The honesty snuck out because with Fletcher, it could. More than with other people anyway. But she put her smile back on to say, “Get back to Bethany—I’m fine.”

  Fletcher gave her hand a light squeeze and a small, consoling smile from the face it was still hard to reconcile as being his—but his eyes, she noticed, were filled with the same wisdom and kindness as always.

  As promised, she sat with Reece and Cami at one of the round tables eating Polly’s seafood buffet. Talk continued to revolve around things like Fletcher’s big transformation and Polly wearing something other than her waitress uniform. And people kept tellin
g Tamra how great she looked.

  She hadn’t realized it, but maybe somewhere along the way she’d stagnated. And she supposed people who stagnated never realized it—that was part of stagnation. But she felt revived, re-energized, and like a long forgotten part of her had been set free: the part of a woman that simply wanted to feel pretty.

  At some point she noticed a big gray cat standing at the leg of her chair, staring up at her longingly as she bit into a hush puppy. And oh—the poor thing was blind in one eye! So Polly hadn’t been kidding about stray cats coming around. And Tamra didn’t really want to encourage that sort of thing, but it was hard not to let a hungry, one-eyed cat tug at her sympathy, so she gave it a chunk of the crabcake she hadn’t yet eaten.

  “Well, look who just came rolling in,” Reece said then—and Tamra looked up quickly, a wisp of hope lifting her heart, but immediately realized Reece had meant the rolling part literally. Christy’s grandfather, who lived in a nearby retirement home and was in a wheelchair, had arrived. He was the reason Christy had originally come to Coral Cove.

  “Where’s Fifi?” good-natured Charlie asked as his lady friend from the home, Susan, pushed him up to greet them. The old man always seemed fond of Reece’s giant iguana.

  “Thought I’d put her on her leash and bring her out in a little while, after dinner,” Reece replied. “It’s good to see you out.”

  Charlie grinned. “Wouldn’t miss my grandgirl’s party for the world.”

  “Heard you’re giving her away at the wedding,” Cami chimed in.

  “You better believe it.” The older man beamed. “I’ll be there with bells on. Now, mind you,” he added, letting only a tiny shred of doubt show in his expression, “not sure how I’m gettin’ her down the aisle in this thing. Wheelchairs, and even walkers, don’t move too good in the sand. But where there’s a will there’s a way, so we’ll get it figured out, that’s for darn sure.”

  After everyone else had gone through the buffet line, Polly and Abner joined them with plates of their own, sitting down on the other side of Tamra. “See you met Captain,” Polly said.

  “Huh?” Tamra asked.

  Then she followed Polly’s gaze to the scavenging feline who still lingered. “He’s been . . . what you might call an unwelcome customer at our place lately.” Polly’s eyes grew bigger as she made a slight motion toward Abner, indicating the cat was more of a problem for him than for her.

  “But you gave him a name anyway?” Tamra asked, a little perplexed.

  “Oh no, not me,” Polly said. “That’s what Jeremy took to callin’ him. Don’t know why, really. But they seem to be buddies.”

  The mention of Jeremy brought her down a little. Why hadn’t he come tonight? She knew it was only a party, but . . . it had also been an invitation to be part of their community. And if he chose not to, the same way he’d chosen to decline Tamra’s invitation to the Sunset Celebration . . . well, it made it clear he didn’t care much about getting to know any of them.

  And if he was just her employee, it didn’t matter much. But on a more personal level, it mattered. His not coming tonight meant passing up an opportunity to be around her, that simple.

  Of course, that’s probably your own fault. She’d pushed him away. And she’d avoided him all week. So maybe she couldn’t blame him. But . . . it would have flattered her, moved her, if he’d made just one more effort to give her a chance to change her mind, to try to win her over.

  It doesn’t matter, though. It’s still a great night and a great party.

  After dinner, the music was quieted for more toasts, and Tamra shoved thoughts of Jeremy aside in favor of letting herself enjoy everyone else’s happiness.

  Like Christy and Jack’s as they again thanked everyone for coming—their love was evident as they stood hand in hand, addressing the crowd.

  And when dancing began, Cami pulled Reece into a slow dance, her arms looped around his neck, and Tamra could see how in love he was and was so glad her longtime friend had found that.

  Fletcher and Bethany stood beneath a streetlamp talking, laughing, looking like people who might be on the verge of falling in love. Maybe she was romanticizing that, but no matter what it was, it was the happiest she’d ever seen him.

  And even Polly and Abner seemed a little bit romantic tonight—Tamra watched Abner take Polly’s hand, the older woman’s eyes lighting with surprise as he led her to the dance floor. “Didn’t break out my fanciest hat for nothin’,” he said, and it made Polly laugh.

  Tamra sat alone, taking it all in. Sometimes watching someone else’s life, someone else’s happiness, was enough—if it had to be. The party was in full swing now—most of Coral Cove was mingling and dancing away a beautiful autumn night beneath the stars next to the bay, the tall sails and rigging of the boats along the dock providing the backdrop.

  Everyone was having so much fun, in fact, that Tamra realized they’d forgotten to cut the big sheet cake from the Beachside Bakery. They’d already gotten pictures of it, though, so she decided to make herself useful and start slicing and handing out dessert.

  She’d gotten through the first row, cutting and placing little slabs of white cake on yellow paper plates—when someone touched her arm. She looked up, slicer in hand, to see a handsome man with short, sandy hair and a small, well-groomed beard. “Hi,” she said politely.

  But then she stopped, froze. Because . . . his eyes. She knew those eyes.

  “Hey,” he said deeply, gently.

  She sucked in her breath. “Jeremy?”

  “Yep, it’s me, Mary.” Then he let his gaze run the length of her, head to toe and back again. “You look beautiful tonight.”

  She sucked in her breath harder. “Um, you too.” Because he did. He really, really did. But then she shook her head nervously, because that wasn’t what she’d meant to say at all. “I mean . . . what happened? What’s this all about?” She found herself motioning to his much-shortened beard and tidy hair with the cake slicer as if it were a pointer and he were a chalkboard.

  “The night we kissed you said you couldn’t see me,” he said. “So . . . guess I wanted to let you. See me.”

  Wow. It was a night for miracles in Coral Cove.

  When new beautiful thoughts began to push out of the old hideous ones, life began to come back to him . . .

  Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden

  Chapter 13

  “YOU . . . DID this for me?” She found herself blinking, repeatedly. Nervous and still trying to wrap her head around this new and improved Jeremy Sheridan. He looked improved anyway. He looked like . . . a hot, sexy dream come true.

  “It was time,” he said. “But . . . you gave me a reason.”

  She sucked in her breath once more, and finally let it out in a rush. Crap, she kept forgetting to breathe. But it was hard with him standing in front of her suddenly looking so . . . wow. Drop dead gorgeous. She could really see him now. And she couldn’t get over how much she liked what she saw.

  “Wanting to let me really see you,” she clarified, still taking that in, too.

  He nodded. “After you said that, I guess I wanted to let you see me more the way . . . I used to be. More like I used to see myself.”

  She didn’t know how to respond. It seemed like a profound gift at a moment when she’d least expected it.

  “In case it matters,” he went on. “In case it fixes anything. Between us.”

  When she pulled in her breath this time, she reminded herself to let it back out. And she was honest. “It matters,” she said. And it wasn’t just that he was suddenly so much more attractive to her—Lord, he even wore a short-sleeved button-down shirt with nicer-than-usual shorts—it was that he’d done it. He’d made the effort. For her. A big one.

  “There’s something about you,” he continued. “Something about us.” He moved his fingers back and forth between them. “War changed me. It made me see things clearer—but not in a good way. It made my life feel . . . small. And
pointless. And like I didn’t deserve to be happy. But since I came here, I’ve started . . . feeling a little better. Sometimes. And a little more normal. Sometimes.” He let out a small, self-deprecating laugh, then shook his head. “Maybe I should shut up. Maybe I’m saying all the wrong things when I want to say the right ones. But . . . I’m trying. Because you make me want to do that. You make me feel things I haven’t for a while. And maybe I just don’t want to let that go.”

  A lump had risen to Tamra’s throat. Because he was pouring his heart out to her. He was doing exactly what she’d asked of him and never expected him to do—really let her see him. And not just on the outside, either.

  So even as hard as it was—and had always been—to let herself be that open, too, she knew she must. And not only because she’d promised Fletcher. But because Jeremy made her want to. He made her feel like she could be real with him. Like she had to, in fact. Because if someone was real with you and you couldn’t give that back to them, at least a little, what was the point in even living? “You . . . make me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time, too.”

  “Why?”

  “Huh?” she asked.

  “Why haven’t you felt them? I know why I haven’t felt them—but why haven’t you felt them, Mary?”

  Just then, John and Nancy Romo came walking up. “Cake!” John announced happily, like it came as a surprise.

  As his wife said, “Why, Jeremy Sheridan as I live and breathe. I heard you were here—why haven’t you come and seen us?”

  Once again, Tamra let out a breath she hadn’t quite realized she was holding.

  “John, Nancy—hi.” He lifted a small wave, and Tamra could feel him being as nice as he could but also wishing they hadn’t been interrupted.

  “I owe your mother a phone call,” Nancy was saying now. “I’ll have to tell her I saw you. You look wonderful, by the way.” She was reaching out, grabbing his hand. “You’ll have to come over—we’ll grill out, make shish kebobs. You know how John loves his shish kebobs. And I want to hear how you’re liking our little town—we were thrilled to hear you’d come down to stay for a while. And you know if you need anything, you just give us a call. Or knock on the door, for that matter. You’re family, after all.”