Authors: Julie Lessman
“Yes—prepare to die!” The bounce in her step told him he’d succeeded in diverting her attention, both from his former faith and the row with her father. She had the line cast in the water before he could get a shrimp on his hook, and fumbling to hurry, he pricked his finger. The hook immediately drew blood, only the first of many times Lacey Carmichael would make him bleed, no doubt, now that Chase was in her life. She chattered on while she popped the cork in the water like a pro, tripping his pulse with a sexy grin over her shoulder. “Lucky for you, Dr. Jock, that the only fishing Pastor Chase does is at church.”
She reeled in and cast again, and his gaze roved white capris that molded to every curve, just like he’d hoped to do once, after Lacey became his wife. Smile thin, he joined her at dock’s edge, casting the shrimp—and his regrets—as far away as he could, sinking them both into the bottomless memory of the Skidaway River. “Yeah,” he said with a grunt when Lacey squealed over a bite. “Lucky me.”
“You’re joking, right?” Lacey gaped at Cat and Shan, knife poised over a home-baked cherry pie donated to the Camp Hope anniversary fundraiser going on all weekend. The smell of popcorn and funnel cakes competed with wood smoke and barbecue while a large crowd of orphans and adults milled and mingled on a lawn crowded with booths, games, and carnival rides. Lacey blinked, hardly able to believe she’d heard correctly. “You think
Jasmine’s
the bad influence?” Shock threaded her tone while she sliced the pie in eighths before shoveling pieces onto paper plates. “From what Nicki says, Jack has quite the reputation at the hospital—a player every nurse is dying to get her hooks in.”
“Well, that much is true,” Cat said with an off-center grin, snitching a brownie from the plate Shannon was arranging at the bakery booth where all three had volunteered. All around them, children’s giggles and shrieks echoed in the warm night air, the sound as melodious as the circus music that drifted from the carousel down on the shore. “Dr. Romeo is one of his nicknames at Memorial, according to my friend Kathy, because he dates no less than three nurses at a time.”
“Or did,” Shannon corrected, calmly swatting Cat’s hand as she attempted to filch another brownie. “Till Jasmine. And you’re on a diet, remember?”
Cat’s eyes narrowed to slits of sapphire. “We’re in a flippin’ bakery booth, Shan—have a heart.” Her scowl instantly morphed into a blazing smile as sweet Carol Green delivered a pie she’d obviously overbaked for the fundraiser, given the charcoal crust around the edge. “Mmm, blueberry lattice, Carol, one of my favorites, thank you!” she said, sniffing the pie that no doubt smelled like charcoal too, given poor Carol’s reputation for inedible baked goods.
“They’re
all
your favorites,” Shannon muttered, scooping an arm to her sister’s waist. Her smile tipped as she bumped Cat’s hip with her own. “You swore me to hold you accountable, remember? ‘One-brownie limit on pain of death?’”
A wicked grin slid across Cat’s face as she snatched another brownie behind her sister’s back. “I wasn’t talking about
my
death,” she said with a chuckle, promptly popping half in her mouth.
“I swear, Cat, you are the sidetrack queen,” Lacey said with a shake of her head, her grin matching that of her friend’s. She snapped her fingers in front of Cat’s face. “Uh, focus, please? We were talking about Jasmine and Jack?”
A scrunch crinkled Cat’s delicate nose, making her look more like ten than twenty-five, especially with brownie crumbs at the edge of her mouth. “Now there’s a brownie deterrent if ever there was—talk about loss of appetite.”
It was Lacey’s turn to wrinkle her nose, eyeing the cherry pie with a rumble of her stomach. “What—you don’t like Jasmine?” she asked, downing a swig of her bottled water.
Cat answered with a grunt, tearing off a piece of plastic wrap to cover the newly cut pieces of pie. “The Queen? Oh, she’s okay I guess, just not for Jack. She’s the daughter of the head doc at Memorial
and
Jack’s boss, so Kathy says whatever the queen wants, she gets, if you get my drift.” Her lips swerved sideways. “And Kathy says she wants Jack—in the worst way—so I just worry she’ll break him down.”
“Break him down?” Lacey halted, water bottle suspended at her lips. She tried to ignore the twinge in her gut that felt too much like jealousy. “You mean marriage?”
Tucking the plastic wrap around a second piece, Cat paused to give Lacey a droll look, her shapely blonde brows arched high. “Uh … no … I mean virtue, as in Jack’s?”
Lacey began to hack, the water she’d just sipped clogging her throat. Shannon patted her back with firm taps, concern wedging the bridge of her nose. “You all right, Lace?”
Lacey’s ponytail bobbed frantically in response while she waited for her airway to open back up, finally emitting a raspy reply. “Yeah—fine, thanks. Went down the wrong pipe.” She nailed Cat with a piercing gaze. “Are you trying to tell me that Jack Carmichael—the bachelor catch of Isle of Hope, who’s dated scores of women and has a player reputation according to Nick—
that
Jack Carmichael doesn’t—” Her throat bobbed as she circled a hand, hoping Cat would get her drift so she wouldn’t have to say it aloud. No such luck. Unleashing a silent groan, Lacey dipped her head in question, face flaming brighter, no doubt, than the stupid cherry pie. “You know …
get around?
”
Cat grinned, obviously pleased she could rattle her best friend. “Nope.” She repositioned several wrapped pieces of pie, her perfectionist tendencies in play as she arranged the baked goods into a perfect display. “Kathy says Jack’s reputation is all bark and no bite, and she should know.” She turned to give Lacey a pointed look. “
She’s
the nurse we all liked before Jack dumped her for getting too serious. Kathy claims Jack may play around, but he refuses to sleep around, a fact verified hotly by the nurse he dated before Kathy—Miss Marisa ‘Va-Va-Boom’ Brown.”
Lacey spun to grab a plate of cookies off the back table, more heat broiling her face. She snatched one from beneath the plastic wrap and set the plate on the front counter, completely disrupting Cat’s handiwork. “I find that very hard to believe,” she mumbled, cheeks chunky with cookie. “A hunky doctor
and
red-blooded American male who’s ditched all prior morals and beliefs? In today’s world that all but guarantees sexual activity.”
“No,
really
, Lace …” Shannon said with a blink of blue eyes that seemed more intense than usual, as if underscoring a point with more depth than her words could convey. “Jack made a pact with Cat and me that if we kept it ‘above board’ as he put it, he would too, and I believe him. He always sleeps at home and usually gets in at a pretty decent hour too.”
“That’s because Mom’d kill him if he didn’t,” Cat quipped, tossing a loose brownie crumb into her mouth. “But Shan’s right, Lace—Jack did make a pact with us a few years back.”
Lacey shook her head, sagging against the counter with an open-mouthed smile. “Well, I’ll be. Shades of the minister coming back to haunt, I guess.” Feeling spunky, she snitched a brownie with a wide grin. “You know, I do believe that’s the best news I’ve heard in a long, long while. Good for Jack!”
“And bad for Jasmine,” Cat said with a waggle of brows.
“All right, ladies, your shift is up.” Miss Myra marched up to the booth with two volunteers in tow, apparently unruffled by the humidity in her crisp, white peasant top and colored maxi. Her trademark single strand of pearls completed the ensemble. “Go get your dinner.”
“Yes!” Cat fist-pumped the air, and Lacey grinned, herding the twins out of the booth toward the picnic tables, corralling Debbie, Davey, and Spence on the way. They found Tess and Mamaw chatting, along with several of Mamaw’s card-club friends, all waiting on them to eat barbecue.
Davey darted toward his mother. “Mom, Mom—Lacey dunked Jack a gazillion times!”
Lacey grinned, recalling the highlight of her day, when she and the twins doused Jack and Matt in the dunking booth.
“Did she, now?” Tess gave him a squeeze while her gaze met Lacey’s. “Good girl—it’s always been my opinion a boy can never have too many baths.”
“I hate baths,” Davey muttered, shrugging his mother’s arms off to run after Spence and Debbie as the twins ushered them to the cotton candy stand nearby.
Tess patted the seat next to her. “Sit down, Lace,” she said with a gentle smile, “how are you doing, sweetheart?”
Lacey slipped onto the bench beside Tess, grateful for the woman who was both a mother and a good friend. The night she and her father had fought, Tess had joined her and Jack in the kitchen to finish off the apple pie from dinner. Somehow the woman had tugged the truth of Lacey’s awful evening with her dad right out, etching deep concern in Tess’s brow. The same concern Lacey now saw behind the tender look on her face.
Lacey released a quiet sigh. “Better,” she whispered, grateful Cat and Shan had taken Debbie and the boys to get cotton candy while Nicki was chatting with Mamaw and her friends. She hadn’t told anyone else what had happened that night because it was too painful to share, but she knew she needed to soon. Both Nicki and Mamaw cared too much to keep them in the dark over how deeply her father had wounded her, but she wasn’t ready quite yet.
This evening was the first time she’d been able to really laugh all week, other than the night Jack had worked his magic on the dock, deftly removing the initial sting of her father’s painful revelation. She’d been in a bit of a malaise since then, but tonight it had finally begun to lift. Maybe with lots of time and prayer, she might be able to consider reaching out to her father again, but one thing she knew for dead sure—it wouldn’t be anytime soon.
Tess squeezed her waist. “Good. I’ve been praying for you.” A shadow passed over her eyes as her smile dimmed, reminding Lacey how upset Tess had been over her father’s callous remarks. Even now, her lips thinned into the same stubborn look as her son when he was ticked about something, indicating Tess’s anger at Ben Carmichael had yet to wane. “
And
for that mule of a father of yours to wake up.”
“Hey!” Lacey’s voice came out as a high-pitched shriek, the feel of cold water dribbling down her back causing her to jump a mile. She spun halfway on the bench to see Jack standing behind her, wringing his sopping polo over her head with a flash of teeth that provoked laughter around the table.
“So … how’s it feel, Carmichael? Because every single drop belongs to you.”
Nicki squealed across the table, attempting to fend Matt off after he tugged her onto his wet lap, their tussle making everyone laugh while egging Matt on. Grinning, Lacey scooted away when Jack sat down, wedging his dripping body between his mother and her. He spiked fingers through his wet hair while a puddle of water pooled on the bench, forcing both Tess and Lacey to move further away.
With a twist of his shirt, he flicked the excess water at Lacey. “Hey, since the men gave their lives for the cause, it’s only fair the women who took aim serve them BBQ, right, Matt? And I’ll even buy for the table.” Jack reached in his jeans pocket and tossed a wad of smashed paper tokens down in a soggy splat.
“Hear, hear,” Matt said with a pound of his fist on the table. “We almost drowned, so it’s the least you girls can do. And since Jack talked me into volunteering for the dunking booth, I’ll have double everything.”
Lacey chuckled as she hopped up from the table, snatching the stash of pre-paid tickets good for food, booths, or rides. She pinched them by the corner till they dangled limp from her hand. “Gee, you’d think a doctor’d be smart enough to empty his pockets before he goes for a swim.” She snapped her fingers in front of Jack’s nose. “Ante up, Dr. Romeo, I’m starved, so I doubt this’ll be enough. Worked up quite an appetite vindicating every nurse at Memorial.”
Jack grinned, hands braced behind his neck to reveal well-defined muscles. “What’s the matter, Mike?” he asked with a leisurely drawl. “Jealous?”
“Ha—dream on, Doc.” Lacey held her palm out, chin nudging up to deflect the heat broiling her cheeks. “Come on, O’Bryen, buck up—I’m hungry.”
“Yeah, Jack.” Cat and Shannon nudged in on the bench next to their mom while Davey and Spence sat across the table with Debbie to share a huge cotton candy. “Shan and I had a late meeting at school, so we didn’t have lunch.”
Chuckling, Jack turned his pockets inside out, tossing a wet tissue onto the table. “Sorry, ladies, clean out except for a very used Kleenex.”
“Here, sweetheart.” Tess rifled in her purse, calmly removing five twenties from Jack’s wallet before handing it back to her son. “Donate whatever’s left, all right? Jack’s loaded, aren’t you, darling?”
“Uh, thanks, Mom, but not anymore, apparently,” he said with a dry smile. He glanced up at Lacey with a lazy grin that flash-froze her pulse when it fluttered her stomach. He winked. “Unless, of course, we’re talkin’ brains and brawn.”
“Thanks, T-Tess,” Lacey stuttered, whirling around to escape Jack’s teasing gaze, blatant quivers of attraction sending shock waves through her body. Her throat parched as dry as the kids’ cotton candy.
What on earth is wrong with me?
This was Jack, for heaven’s sake—an ex-boyfriend, yes, but one with whom she’d managed to forge a very comfortable friendship. So where were these annoying tingles coming from? Anxious to dodge unwanted attraction, Lacey ambled over to Mamaw. “How ’bout I buy back one of your famous peach crumble pies for the table after I fix you and your friends a plate? Jack’s buying.”
“Why, that would be lovely, dear,” Mamaw said with a twinkle in her eye, the elfin smile on her lips an indication she was enjoying the tease at Jack’s expense. She dug her Purell from her purse to hand it to Lacey. “Here, dear, dab a little on before you handle any food, all right? And with so many at our table, perhaps two pies would be better if Jack doesn’t mind.”
“Sure, why not?” Jack said, tone droll. “And take orders from the next table while you’re at it, Lace, why don’t you?”
“Oooo no, let me do it …” Cat popped up with Shannon to give Lacey a hand, nabbing Jack’s wallet while Shannon diverted him with a massage of his shoulders. She tossed it to Lacey before he could stop her. “Here, Lace—now we can check out the silent-auction table, too.”