Sweet Tidings

by Jean C. Gordon

  Blaming the hollow feeling in her stomach on hunger, she stuck all the leftover pizza in the microwave and went to change into jeans and a light sweater. Despite the ocean breeze, the evening temperature was holding in the mid-60s. Perfect for sitting out. She debated for two seconds whether to bring her day planner or the new novel she’d picked up earlier in the week out with her. When the microwave dinged, she pulled out the plate and juggled it, along with the goblet, wine bottle, and book, so she’d only have to make one trip.

  Amanda placed her feast on the round wooden table and sank into the chair facing the ocean. Its cushions were still warm from the earlier direct sun. Peace and quiet. Nothing but the sound of the waves and a few seagulls. She savored a big bite of pizza. That was one of the reasons she’d bought the cottage when she’d moved to Indigo Bay. The solitude and the challenge of fixing it up herself.

  With next to no architectural clients at first, she’d had lot of time on her hands—something she was envious of now. And after years of being rented out, the cottage had needed a total makeover. She leaned back and sipped her wine, closing her eyes to take in just the melodic evening sounds.

  Amanda opened her eyes to a young couple, teens, really, walking barefoot in the sand, arms hugged around each other so tightly, she doubted a grain could get between them. They stopped for a lingering kiss. Ah, young love. She closed her eyes again to give them privacy. Any love. She could hardly remember the last time she’d felt genuinely close to someone she’d dated.

  A sound on the wood stairs made her sit up wide-eyed.

  “Sorry if I woke you.” Eric stood on the top step with a plastic bag in his hand.

  “I wasn’t dozing, just listening to the sounds. Do you ever do that?” Why did she say that? Amanda took another bite of pizza to occupy her mouth.

  “It’s not exactly the same, but I like to sit and listen to the fountain behind my house and the birds singing in the trees. It gives me kind of a Zen feeling.”

  “Yeah. Have a seat.”

  He sunk into the seat across from her and placed the plastic bag on the table. “But to put things in perspective, I can achieve that same Zen listening to a finely tuned motorcycle or sports car.”

  She laughed. “Speaking of motorcycles, I didn’t hear yours drive up. Or were you in stealth mode.”

  “You watched another of my early movies.”

  “I enjoyed it. For what it is,” she teased. No need to tell him that since they’d first met, she’d been periodically watching his movies in order and what she’d particularly enjoyed was watching him mature—both as an actor and a man—from a limited-dimension young 20-something to the many-faceted man sitting across from her, staring at her with interest.

  She jumped up. “You want some wine? I’ll get you a glass.”

  He looked up at her with a lop-sided smile. “I guess that’s a yes, since you’re up now and halfway to the door.”

  She wasn’t. Really. She just needed to step away and reorient herself.

  “And you might as well take this with you.” He handed her the plastic bag. “It’s some of the leftover fried chicken.”

  It must have weighed three pounds.

  “That’s why you didn’t hear my bike. I walked to try and burn off some of the chicken I ate. Sonja was right about your mother’s fried chicken. I’ve never had any other close to it.” He patted his stomach, drawing her attention to it.

  “You don’t look any worse the wear for overindulging.” Amanda pictured what she imagined from his movies were a well-toned set of abs under the thin fabric of his t-shirt. She truly needed to get herself inside for a moment before she opened her mouth or imagination again.

  She escaped inside, put the chicken in the refrigerator, and grabbed another wine goblet before standing still and taking three cleansing breaths. Better. Back outside, Eric rested his head against the padded chair back, eyes closed. So still and relaxed, he looked more like he did in the early movies she’d watched than a man closing in on 50.

  His eyes opened. She stopped staring and busied herself pouring Eric some wine.

  “You know,” he started.

  His voice startled her, and she sloshed wine over the rim of the glass to the table.

  “Let me.” Eric took the goblet with one hand and reached for one of the napkins she’d brought out with her pizza. He wiped up the spill. “What I was going to say was that I think you’re onto something with your ocean listening. It’s relaxing.” He eyed his full-to-the-brim wine glass before continuing. “Maybe you should try some more.”

  Her face heated. No, she said to herself as if that could stop her blush. He should be used to women staring at him. Amanda sat, lowered her gaze, and allowed herself a reasonable sip of her wine.

  He leaned over and drank enough of his wine to lower the level to where he could pick it up and drink. “You should have come to dinner at your mother’s.”

  “That bad?” she asked, trying to imagine what her mother might have said or done.

  “Not really. Let’s just say, I now know just about everything about Amanda Jade Strickland from birth to age 18—with pictures.”

  Amanda palmed her face. She’d thought she was embarrassed before.

  “Fortunately …” Eric paused and drank some more wine, his gaze lowering, taking her in, as he placed the empty glass back on the table. “She left the adult Amanda as a Christmas gift for me to unwrap myself.”

  She squirmed and tried to still the turbulence inside her with a quick, “I don’t think you’ll find any surprises.”

  Eric rose, his eyes darkening, “I don’t know about that.”

  She stared, unable to find her voice, and that was before he smiled.

  “Thanks for the drink. I’d better get going,” he said.

  “Um hmm.” Her mind was still back on unwrapping.

  “Your mother said you might need some help tomorrow with your outside Christmas decorations. I can come by after lunch.”

  “Sure.” She’d never needed help before, but Eric might have said anything, and she would have agreed.

  Eric mentally kicked himself all the way back to Lisa’s place. He hadn’t meant to slip into his actor-on-the-move persona with that smarmy unwrap comment. He and Amanda were friends, and he didn’t want to jeopardize that friendship. Other than Jeff, he had few real friends. He’d panicked at the way Amanda’s embarrassment had made him all protective feeling and lapsed into the cover he wore for most people.

  But Amanda wasn’t most people. She was someone he could usually be his real self for. And then she’d gotten that dazed look that he normally basked in. From Amanda, it tore at something inside him. As much of an oxymoron as it sounded, he wanted to be as honest with their pretend romance as possible. He’d turn things around with her tomorrow.

  Chapter 5

  The next morning Eric was at Seaside Cycles before Jeff. He sat in the small back lot waiting for his friend to come and open the shop. The sooner they got his bike tuned and he could clean up, the sooner he could get over to Amanda’s cottage and make up for last night. The only way he had thought of to do that was to be truthful and admit that Hollywood sex-symbol Eric Slade was intimidated by women he felt more than a shallow attraction to. Sure he was physically attracted to Amanda. What man wouldn’t be. But his attraction went a lot further than that.

  Jeff pulled in beside him, shut down his bike, and took off his helmet. “What kind of plot are your hatching?”

  “What do you mean?”

  His friend swung off his bike and Eric did too. “I know the look.”

  Eric wavered. “I want an honest relationship with Amanda.”

  “The only kind worth having.” Jeff unlocked, and Eric pushed his bike in.

  As he lowered the kickstand, Eric said, “Maya, my last co-star, has been stalking me.”

  Jeff grabbed a toolbox from a shelf. “Yeah, Sonja and I suspected that. Maya is, what, Chris’s age? Not your style.”

  Ha
sn’t been for a good while, at least.

  “She was good. You were good together in the movie, though. I didn’t see any more in it, except you might be hiding out from her here.”

  Jeff’s words were some relief. But the bigger question was whether his friend also suspected his and Amanda’s holiday romance deal. He pushed that thought from his mind. If Jeff did suspect, he’d be all over him about it. They were no-holds-barred friends.

  “Kind of, the hiding out part. Now, let’s get to work. I have an afternoon appointment with a certain mayor to help her put up her holiday decorations.”

  Jeff patted him on the back. “I wouldn’t want to keep you from that.”

  With service customers and bike and ATV rentals, his bike tune-up had taken the full morning. He had just enough time to clean up, eat the lunch Lisa had offered to make for him and be at Amanda’s by 1:00. Not that he’d given her an exact time. He started to text her that he’d be there in 45 minutes and ask if he should bring any tools, then stopped. He’d told her after lunch. Better to keep it vague, build anticipation.

  Eric roared off toward Amanda’s cottage. Yeah, build anticipation. His at least.

  He slowed when he saw an Indigo Bay police car ahead.

  Or was it uncertainty in his case?

  Amanda finished her lunch dishes, making it officially after lunch. That was what Eric had said. That he’d help her with the decorations after lunch. So where was he? She glanced over the kitchen bar out the living room’s seaside window for the…she’d-lost-count-of-how-many times. After lunch could be anytime from now until the end of the day. She had to stop. She wasn’t 100% sure that’s what Eric had even said. The second glass of wine must have fogged her mind. The goblets held more than she usually drank.

  She pulled the stool from its place by the refrigerator and stepped up to open the ceiling door to the cottage’s storage area. Her inside and outside Christmas decorations were about all she had stored there. Her ladder, tools, and other things were in the outside shed.

  “Hello,” Eric’s call through the screen door almost made her drop the door she was holding open with one hand onto her other hand.

  She calmed herself and climbed another step to secure the door open. “Hi. Come in.” I was getting the decorations.”

  He let himself in. “I’ll do that.”

  She frowned at him over her shoulder, not quite ready to face him for whatever reason now that he was here.

  “I mean, I’m taller.” He shrugged.

  He looked almost as uncomfortable as she was.

  Eric closed the distance to the step stool. “About yesterday evening.”

  “It was the wine,” she blurted. “That’s why I was so spacey.”

  His voice lowered as if he were drawing it from somewhere deep inside. “I want to apologize for being sexist, my sexist unwrap comment, however you want to word it, yesterday.”

  Sexy? She didn’t say that aloud, did she? No laughter. She must be safe. “Apology accepted.” Amanda turned back to her task.

  “So, what do you want me to do?”

  “I’m already up here, so I’ll hand the boxes down to you, once I have them moved to the edge.”

  “Okay and while I wait, I’ll enjoy the view.”

  A quick glance showed he was still facing her. The heat from the attic combined with her internal temperature. Eric wasn’t talking about the ocean view. She resisted fanning herself. Instead, she cleared her throat. Loudly.

  “Hey,” he teased, standing there in his muscle shirt, despite the fact that it was December, and thigh-hugging faded jeans. “I didn’t say I wasn’t a man.”

  That Eric was a man was an understatement.

  “We men can’t help ourselves sometimes.”

  “Is that right? Well get your manly self over here and help me.”

  She handed him the boxes with the outdoor lights and garlands, followed by the plastic bag covered wreath for the peak of the cottage. Then, on her toes, Amanda reached with her fingertips for the larger box holding her indoor decorations.

  She wobbled with the strain.

  “I’ve got you.” Eric gripped her hips firmly.

  As if that was going to make her less wobbly. With great forbearance, she inched the box toward the edge where she could grasp it firmly. “I’m good. You can let go any time.”

  Eric released his grip slowly, weakening her knees and her balance again. They needed to have a talk about touching boundaries as soon as she figured out a way to broach that topic without giving away what his touch was doing to her.

  She turned and handed him the box. “That’s it.”

  He took the box, and she scrambled down. When she turned, he’d already deposited the inside decorations box on the floor and picked up both of the outdoor boxes, leaving her just the wreath to carry.

  “I can take one of the boxes,” she said.

  His face became a picture of mock indignation. “What will the neighbors say if they see me letting you carry out big boxes.”

  She snorted. “Probably what they’ve said every other year I’ve carried them out to decorate. Nothing.”

  “Ah, so seeing me carrying them out may make them talk. That’s what we want, isn’t it?”

  Amanda picked up the wreath. That was what he wanted to quell the rumors about him and his last co-star. She’d been so thrilled about his being here boosting the city celebrations and the animal shelter fundraising that she hadn’t thought about her reputation, and position as mayor.

  “To be honest, I hadn’t thought of that.” She followed Eric out.

  He looked around as if checking for neighbors or anyone in the vicinity before placing the boxes on the deck. “It shouldn’t matter. We’re consenting adults, and I don’t recall our agreement requiring anything off-base that would stretch the boundaries of our friendship. I mean friends hug and kiss, don’t they?” He grinned.

  An itch crept down her spine at the thought of Eric’s arms around her, lips pressed to hers. “I supposed. It’s not like I’ve never let a guy who I never dated again kiss me goodnight.”

  His grin retreated some.

  “I didn’t mean that as a dig,” she said. “Small public displays of affection are certainly within our agreement.” She’d find a way to control any undue reactions on her part to them as the need arose.

  “Okay, then.” Eric opened the light box. “Let’s get this show going. We’re going to need a ladder to get these lights up.”

  “In the shed,” Amanda said, her emotions grounded again.

  A while later she stood back and admired their work. It had taken them less than half the time it generally took her to put the lights and the garlands up. All that was left was the wreath, which Eric was working on centering in the triangular peak.

  “A little more to the left, a voice behind her called.” Lucille and Princess were on the beach, starting for the cottage steps.

  “She’s right,” Amanda confirmed to Eric’s back before greeting Lucille. “Nice day for a walk, and for putting up decorations.”

  “It’s warm enough,” Lucille agreed. “But the wind is playing havoc with my hair.”

  Amanda couldn’t see that the older woman’s hair looked any different than it ever did.

  Eric joined them, impressing Lucille if not Amanda by hopping down from several rungs up the ladder.

  “Thanks for the help,” she said. “Why don’t I go in and get us all a drink of sweet tea?”

  “I could use a drink.” Eric wiped his brow with his hand. “The sun’s hot up there.”

  “I have a few minutes I can spare for a drink.” Lucille made herself at home in one of the two chairs.

  “If you don’t mind, Eric, can you get another deck chair from the shed.”

  “Sure. I’ll put the ladder away, too.”

  Amanda smiled and nodded her thanks. She returned with a tray with three glasses and a pitcher of tea.

  “Sit,” Lucille urged. “I have something to
tell you before Eric gets back. You know I don’t gossip.”

  Amanda fought not to roll her eyes.

  “But I thought you should know. He’s seeing someone else.”

  “Ah, if you mean Maya, that’s over.” Had never began, according to Eric.

  Lucille lowered her voice and shielded her mouth on the side toward the steps he was climbing. “Not Maya. Someone right here in Indigo Bay. I saw it on Facebook. On his fan group page.”

  “Something interesting on Facebook?” Eric asked.

  “Put that chair down and sit, young man.” Lucille pointed to the other side of Amanda.

  He situated the chair, petted Princess, and sat. It looked like he was in trouble about something.

  “I’m going to ask you a question right here in front of Amanda, and I want an honest answer.”

  “Certainly.” He took the glass of tea Amanda had for him and avoided eye contact with her so he could keep his amusement out of his expression.

  “Are you toying with our Amanda’s affections?”

  Amanda made a choking sound, and he almost lost it. “What do you mean?”

  Lucille fanned her hand toward the decorations ending with him and Amanda. “I keep running into you two together, and here you are again.” She paused dramatically. “But your Facebook fan page shows you right here in Indigo Bay at Seaside Cycles with an unidentified woman on the back of your motorcycle.” Lucille crossed her arms and Precious barked in agreement.

  Amanda laughed. A false laugh if he was hearing right, and he might be getting older and falling apart in other ways, but his hearing was fine.

  “That was me,” Amanda said.

  “Yesterday at Seaside Cycles?” Lucille asked. “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Good. I’m relieved. Now, Princess and I need to finish our walk.”