by Terri Osburn
“Women like you?” she repeated. “Roxie, have you done time in jail?”
“No.”
“Ever beat a Girl Scout? Mugged an old lady? Drove sixty-five in a school zone?”
“None of the above.”
“Then what is wrong with you? Because this ‘watch out I’m trouble’ routine is pretty baseless as far as I can tell.” Henri set her cup on the counter and hopped to her feet. “You’ve been here for what, three weeks?”
“About that, yeah.”
“In that time, you’ve helped multiple islanders, doing everything from manual labor, to pregnant woman sitting, to herding an intimidating number of toddlers. All for no pay, I’m assuming. So explain to me, where is this horrible person I keep hearing about? Because the clothes do not make the woman, my friend. For heaven’s sake, Sid Dempsey is wearing cuffed jeans, and despite her occupation, she’s as far from gay as you can get.”
Roxie rolled her eyes. “I’m just not the girl next door, okay?”
Tapping her on the nose, Henri said, “In this case, babe, you are literally the girl next door. But has Alex ever said that’s what he’s looking for? I mean, you aren’t putting on an act here. That’s one of the things I like about you. You are who you are. And you are the woman he’s asking out.”
She had a point. Despite giving him attitude at every turn, warning him off, and insulting his toy car, Alex still wanted to spend time with her. And it wasn’t as if he was some stuffy doctor hanging at the country club and attending charity dinners. In fact, he was a pretty normal guy, and a definite upgrade from her previous poor choices.
The truth was, she liked him. A lot. Which made the stakes even higher.
“What if I screw it up?” she asked.
Henri snorted. “We all screw up eventually. The right person is the one who sticks around afterwards. The doc seems like the sticking kind, so why not give him a shot?”
There were a million different reasons, but Roxie couldn’t think of a damn one of them. “You’re really annoying, you know that?”
Retrieving her cup, she shrugged. “I’ve been called worse.”
“I’m sorry, but can one of you tell me where the garbage bags are?” Mia Stamatis asked. “The can is full, and I thought I’d empty it.”
“Sure.” Henri grabbed a bag from the cabinet under the sink. “Here you go.”
“Do you two know each other?” Roxie asked, stopping Mia from leaving the kitchen. Two could play this matchmaker game.
The brunette shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“Mia, this is Henri. Henri, Mia. She’s an artist on the island.”
“Really? What kind?”
“I dabble in a few mediums,” Mia replied. “Pottery, ceramics, mosaics. Watercolors now and then. I sell various pieces through Lola’s arts and crafts store.”
“That sounds interesting. I’ll have to check them out.”
Smiling, Mia said, “If you find something you like, let me know, and I’ll have Lola give you a discount.”
Henri returned the smile. “Will do, thanks.”
As the other woman turned to leave, Roxie elbowed her friend. When blue eyes met hers, she bobbed her head toward the exiting party.
“What?” Henri mouthed.
Roxie nodded again, this time more emphatically. Seconds later, the light went on.
“Oh. Ooooohhhh.” Leaning to catch another glimpse, she said, “She’s cute.” Then she turned narrowed eyes Roxie’s way. “I see what you’re doing here.”
“Tit for tat, my friend. Tit. For. Tat.”
“Are you sure this party won’t be too much for her?” Sam asked, pacing Dempsey’s scuffed wood floor like the expectant father that he was.
“As long as she follows the order not to move from the couch, there’s no reason Callie can’t enjoy her shower.” As her physician, Alex had used his sternest voice to instill the importance of sitting still. As a man who did not want to be hanged by the women who’d put months into planning this shindig, he’d gladly cleared the guest of honor from her bed.
“What if she gets too excited?” Sam asked.
“Are they bringing in a stripper?” Lucas teased with a chuckle. “It’s a bunch of women cooing over baby clothes and a cake-looking thing made out of diapers. How exciting could it be?”
Nick Stamatis took the seat next to Alex. The restaurant only opened for dinner during the off-season, so the cook had a couple hours before prep time. “Who the hell is making a cake out of diapers?”
A screaming toddler flew past the table, and not a single man flinched.
“Opal made the real cake,” Joe explained.
“Sid and Will made the diaper one,” Lucas added. “It’s been on my kitchen table for two weeks.”
Sam dropped into the seat between the brothers with a huff. “I don’t like it.” Connor ran past yelling, “Daddy, help!” as Lucas’ daughter Pilar chased him with a large balloon in her hand. The dad replied, “You’ve got to outrun her, son.”
Witnessing this circus made Alex question his friends’ parenting abilities. The only person actually engaging with the children was a man who didn’t have any. Randy Navarro sat at the next table over while Mary Ann painted his fingernails. There was something both enlightened and hysterical about a man the size of a yacht sporting pink, glittery nail polish. Thumb in her mouth, Daphne perched on Randy’s knee, watching intently.
“Should we break that up?” Alex asked, pointing to Pilar and Connor playing tug-of-war with the balloon, which popped, frightening the toddlers into stunned silence.
“They’re fine,” Lucas said. “We’ve got two weeks before the festival. How much repair work is left?”
The Anchor Island Spring Festival marked the return of tourists to the island, but the devastation from Hurricane Deloris threatened their ability to fully host the visitors.
Joe caught his niece mid-run. Holding the tiny dark-haired child above his head, he said, “Give the kid a break, peanut. Why don’t you guys sit at the puzzle table for a while?”
Squirming, she said, “Okay.”
He kissed her on the forehead before putting her back on her feet. Pilar walked calmly to Connor, took his hand, and led him to a low table by the windows.
As if there’d been no break in the conversation, Joe said, “Howard’s Cafe, Hava Java, and the Trading Post are all back up and running.”
“Both of my hotels are ready for guests,” Sam added. “The cottages along Lighthouse Road are the only properties of mine that still need work, and that’s on the schedule for this week. Do you have a full crew, Joe?”
Since Joe’s charter boat business closed for the winter, and he relied on the tourists return for the new season, he’d led the recovery efforts.
“There’ll be five of us including Beth’s cousin Roxie. She can swing a hammer better than half the guys on the team.”
“You need to bring her around here more,” Nick said. “I want to show her my skills in the kitchen, if you know what I mean.”
Alex’s jaw tensed, but he kept his mouth shut. One dinner didn’t mean Roxie wasn’t free to see whoever she wanted.
“I think the doc has dibs,” Joe said.
Lucas turned to Alex. “When did this happen?”
A gentleman didn’t kiss and tell. “I made her dinner a couple of nights ago.”
“You cooked for her?” Nick asked. “Dude, that’s my thing.”
“Everyone cooks, Stamatis,” Randy cut in. “It isn’t rocket science.”
Nick snarled before taking a swig of his beer. The other men all looked to Alex, as if waiting for him to elaborate. They could wait all day, but Alex wasn’t going to talk about Roxie’s private business. He knew her well enough to know that she’d hate being the topic of conversation.
To Joe he said, “If you need extra help coming down to the wire, I can clear my schedule and lend a hand.”
“I appreciate that. Two weeks isn’t a lot of time,
and I still need to get my boat ready for the season.”
A phone dinged, and each man pulled his device from his pocket.
“It’s me,” Lucas said, his eyes on the screen. “The party is winding down, and Sid says we’re expected to help with cleanup.”
“Not all of us,” Nick muttered. As the only single man in the group besides Alex, he looked quite happy not to be included. “You all answer to the crack of the whip. Not me.”
“Your day will come,” warned Randy, who rose with Daphne in his arms. The other fathers collected the remaining children and headed for the door.
When Alex rose, Nick said, “You, too, Doc? Roxie got you on a leash already?”
Though they weren’t friends, Alex had never had a reason not to like Nick. He was brash, as most chefs were, but doted on his grandmother, and was a fierce protector of his sister. Few likely knew the family man behind the tough persona, and at times like these, Alex looked forward to the day when the right woman would take him down a peg.
“I doubt Sam is going to relax until I check on Callie.” With a smile, he added, “Seeing Roxie is a bonus.”
“Four more to go,” Beth said, offering Callie some much needed rallying support.
“I just need a minute,” she replied, breathing heavy. After three more breaths, she nodded. “Okay. I can do this.”
While Henri and Will flanked the expectant mother, Sid, Beth, Roxie, and Mia hovered on the steps behind them like firefighters waiting for a panicking victim to jump out a four-story window. It was more likely they’d all be knocked down like bowling pins should Callie actually tumble backwards, but they were all determined not to let that happen. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when she reached the top step unscathed.
Mission accomplished, the catch team returned to their cleaning duties on the ground floor. “I can’t reach the banner,” said Beth, leaping in front of the fireplace.
“The guys will get it,” Sid replied. “I sent Lucas a text. They’re on their way.”
“Works for me.” Beth moved on to the coffee table, gathering all the empty cups and plates she could hold before heading to the kitchen.
“Bring the garbage can back with you,” Sid suggested.
Beth waved a cup in the air in response.
“I hear you’re really getting around,” Mia said to Roxie as they gathered the toilet paper used for one of the games.
Each attendee had cut a length of the paper they thought would span the mother’s belly. Most had been far too short, likely by design. No one wanted to remind a pregnant woman of exactly how big she really was. Especially not one carrying twins.
The tone lacked malice, but Roxie couldn’t be sure if Mia was talking about Roxie’s many volunteer posts or her date with Alex.
“What do you mean?”
“The work crew. The daycare. Helping Callie out.” She stuffed a large ball of paper in the can Beth set next to them. “You’ve been a huge help since coming to the island. We really appreciate it.”
Roxie wasn’t used to being noticed for something positive.
“That’s what I came for.” Not really, but she didn’t mind the work. Swinging a hammer was doing wonders for her upper arms, and it was nice to get to know Beth’s husband Joe. He’d been intimidating as hell when she’d first arrived, but the guy actually had a sense of humor. A dry one, but it was there.
“It’ll all pay off come festival time.”
“Festival? The pirate festival?” Hadn’t Alex said that was during the summer?
Mia gathered more paper. “That’s not until June. Later this month we have our Anchor Island Spring Festival. It’s the first big tourist event of the year, and the reason we’re all working so hard to get the island back in shape. Catering to tourists is how most of us make a living.”
How had she not heard about this before?
“So there’s a deadline on these repairs?”
“There is.” Mia moved to the pile at Roxie’s feet. “The goal is to have everything up and running in the next couple weeks.”
Then Roxie wouldn’t be needed anymore. She couldn’t justify living with Beth once that happened, and her efforts to find a job had gone nowhere. While reality sank in, the front door flew open, and chaos ensued. Children ran to their mothers, each talking over the next, while their fathers greeted their wives with open affection. Randy Navarro caught his wife coming down the stairs and swept her off her feet as if they’d been apart for years instead of hours. Seeing the door was left open, Roxie crossed the room to close it and walked right into Alex’s chest.
“Oh,” she said, hopping back. “I didn’t know you were out there.”
Alex steadied her with a hand along her waist. “I heard there was a cleanup duty assignment. I thought I could help and check on the patient at the same time.”
Roxie turned to survey the activity behind her. Lucas pulled the banner down over the fireplace, while Joe and Randy carried the long dining room table back to where it belonged. “I’m not sure there’s much more to do.” The trash had been picked up, the furniture righted, and Sid was putting a broom to good use.
“Then I guess I’ll do the one thing no one else here can. Is Callie upstairs?”
Standing so close made her remember the kiss from the night before. Kisses, that was. The memories hindered brain function as blood flow shifted in a different direction.
“Hey, Alex,” said Mia, joining them near the door. “What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to make sure Callie didn’t overdue during the party,” he said, his hand still lingering on Roxie’s hip. “Sam was on edge, and I figured he won’t relax until he knows she and the babies are okay.”
“We all made sure she stayed put, but she struggled a bit to get back up the stairs.” Noticing where Alex’s hand lay, Mia said, “Are you sure that’s all you came for?”
“You should head up,” Roxie said, putting space between them. “She’s probably exhausted so you need to see her before she falls asleep.”
“Right.” Looking as if he wanted to say more, Alex’s eyes lingered on Roxie’s. She took another step back. “I’ll be back,” he said, clearly for her benefit.
As he took the stairs two at a time, Mia turned her way, but Roxie spoke first. “Will you tell Beth that I wasn’t feeling well and went home?”
“Sure, but Roxie—”
“Just tell her, okay?”
Without waiting for an answer, she grabbed her coat from the rack by the door and stepped into the cold.
Chapter Nine
A run had always cleared Roxie’s mind. Until this week. But at six thirty on the nose Wednesday morning, she’d slipped out the door just as she had the two mornings before. The early start came with the added benefit of getting to watch the sunrise, while also guaranteeing she didn’t run into Alex.
He hadn’t been the reason she ditched after the baby shower, but she doubted he’d believe that. If she were being honest, he was part of the reason. Learning that her purpose here was coming to an end, Roxie made a startling realization. She liked Anchor Island. Hell, she’d even started to think of staying. Of giving this thing with Alex a chance and maybe even putting down roots.
But Roxie was not a freeloader. When the roommate situation had blown up and she’d found herself homeless, she could have couch surfed for a while. Crashed with this or that friend until they got tired of her. But pride hadn’t let her. Not that pride had played a part in running home with her tail between her legs, but despite how her family treated her, Roxie still considered her hometown a safe haven.
Or had until the latest fiasco.
Now she had no place to go. She wasn’t welcome at home, and without a job, she couldn’t stay here, but due to her meager savings, she couldn’t afford to go anywhere else. Despair hit like a punch and she bent over with her hands on her knees, fighting the panic that had been threatening for days. Gritting her teeth, she ignored her racing heart and straightened.
/> “There has to be something I can do here.”
She’d tried all of the small shops, and no one was hiring. She’d even asked about clerical positions at the medical center with no luck. Waitressing at Dempsey’s was the only option, and that was the one job Roxie had never done. Not because it was beneath her, but because she knew it was damn hard work with little pay and big headaches. Dealing with the public in retail was bad enough.
Scrubbing her hands over her face, she tipped her head back and felt cold drops hit her hands. No. Freaking. Way.
The clouds let go as if to say, yes way, and Roxie took off running again. She didn’t get far when a red dot entered her vision. Wiping the rain from her eyes, she spotted Alex coming her way, dry beneath a red umbrella. When they met, he stood close enough to keep them both out of the rain.
“Hi,” she said, trying to ignore the cold water running down her back. “What are you doing out here?”
“I saw you from the window.” Roxie never realized how intimate standing beneath an umbrella could be. Neither spoke for several seconds, their breath creating tiny steam clouds in the air, until Alex said, “Are you avoiding me?”
“I’ve been busy,” she replied, which was true. The repairs on the cottages had been the toughest labor she’d done since arriving, and due to the festival looming, they’d worked well into the evenings.
“What about Sunday?”
She didn’t owe him an explanation. They hadn’t planned to meet, and he hadn’t asked her to stick around. Maybe if he’d listened to her warnings, he wouldn’t be looking at her with that hurt look in his eyes.
Giving the same excuse she’d given Beth, Roxie said, “I didn’t feel well.”
Alex’s expression didn’t change. He just stared at her as if trying to read her soul. Unable to handle the forced proximity, Roxie stepped out from underneath the umbrella, but Alex extended his arm, keeping her out of the rain at his own expense.
