Kiss and Tell (12 page)

“You always do have something to add, don’t you? So what’s your advice? Let’s hear it, Leila. Should I sell or not?”

She felt like crying. All of the warmth in Marsh’s eyes was gone. He leaned back against the jeep and gazed at her with that mocking glint that was part amusement and part disdain.

“I think it would be wise to sell, particularly for what he’s offering.”

“His offer is really little more than charity,” Marsh said flatly. “It’s Seaholm’s way of helping me out of this financial bind.”

“He
does
get the land.”

“The same way I get watermelon and zucchini when I trade the Hopkinses for all that pork.”

“Pres Seaholm has a vested interest in keeping you here, on the key,” Leila pointed out. “You’re the only doctor in more than forty miles. Besides, if that kind of trading doesn’t bother the Hopkinses, why should it bother you? You said it yourself. That’s just the way things work down here. People look after each other. Is it so terrible if someone does a little looking after you?”

“You didn’t like it when people looked out for you.” Marsh stared at the burned shell that was once his house, his home. “I like this particular view of the ocean. I don’t want to sell.” He looked at Leila. “I’ve decided. I’m going to rebuild.” He smiled. “There. That was easy, wasn’t it?”

“Even with those insurance checks I found, you’re still forty-four thousand dollars short,” Leila warned him. “But if you want, I can help you organize your financial records. You’ll stand a better shot at getting a bank loan and—”

“I can rebuild without borrowing any money from the bank,” Marsh said.

“What, you’re planning to win the lottery?” Leila crossed her arms.

“Sort of.” Marsh went around to the passenger side of the jeep. “Drive me back to Simon’s. It’s time for me to sponge off the bastard a bit more.”

Leila sighed with exasperation. “Marsh, I don’t know why I said that.”

“Forget about it.” He climbed into the jeep. “Come on, the sooner we get back, the less hellish I’ll feel in the morning.”

But she
did
know why she’d said such a cruel thing to Marsh.

She had been terrified.

Marsh had been talking about making love to her. He’d as much as confessed that he wanted her, desperately. That word still echoed in her head.
Desperately. Desperately
…

And Leila wanted him, too. She wanted him to make love to her. She wanted it badly, desperately. Desperately…Forget about the ninja. Forget about Elliot. Forget about her job as an accountant back in New York City. Forget about everything but Marsh and the way he could make her heart pound with just a look and a smile.

It was terrible, it was awful, but it was undeniable.

Leila had it bad for Marshall Devlin.

EIGHT

T
HE LIFEGUARD CHAIR
stood like a sentinel on the white sandy expanse of the town beach. The afternoon was hot and still, and Hayden Young, the lifeguard, opened the colorful beach umbrella that was attached to the back of his chair.

Leila and Frankie sat in their beach chairs and tried not to stare, at least not too obviously.

Hayden was everything Frankie had said he was. Blond, tanned, and muscular. As she strolled casually past the lifeguard chair, Leila had even had a glimpse of the electric blue eyes he normally kept carefully hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.

He was almost laughably gorgeous.

His hair was long and thick, and he wore it back in a ponytail. His jaw was strong, his cheekbones were chiseled, and his nose was perfect, just the right size for his face.

“So this is what’s coming out of the university’s philosophy program these days,” Leila mused, spreading more sunblock on the tops of her feet and that one badly sunburned place she had along the edge of her bathing suit. Lord, it was hot today. She wished
she
had an umbrella to shade herself, too.

“He’s also a trained EMT,” Frankie reminded her. “You know, he’s teaching a CPR course down in the church basement over the next four Monday nights. I tried to sign up. I figured in my line of work, CPR might be good to know. But apparently, the class was filled to capacity weeks ago.”

Leila grinned. “You could always ask him for private lessons.”

“Or
you
could. You’re the one who wants to kiss him.”

They watched as several little children approached the lifeguard chair carrying a yellow bucket. They talked to Hayden, craning their necks, pointing inside the bucket. Hayden climbed down from his perch and crouched in the sand to talk to the children.

“My God, he’s nice to kids, too,” Leila said. “Tell me, honestly, what would you do with a guy who’s that good-looking? Everywhere you went, you’d have a swarm of women following. Or at least looking.”

“And drooling,” Frankie added. “Definitely drooling. It would get very soggy.”

“Who needs it?” Leila asked. “Not me.”

“Me neither.”

Hayden Young ruffled one of the boys’ hair and waved good-bye as the children ran off. He climbed up the ladder to his chair, his muscles rippling in the sunshine.

“On the other hand…” Frankie said.

“Mmm, I know what you mean.”

They lapsed into silence, and Leila closed her eyes. Her ninja hadn’t been Liam Halliday or Preston Seaholm. Hayden Young was last on her list of suspects, except for good old married Robert Earle in Atlanta. But what if it hadn’t been Earle either? That would mean that somewhere on Sunrise Key there was another ninja.

But who could it be?

Leila tried to remember the night of Simon’s party, tried to remember the man who had silently asked her to dance, who hadn’t taken no for an answer.

Hayden Young’s shoulders were awfully broad. Had her ninja really had shoulders like that?

Try as she might, she couldn’t conjure up any clear memory of her mystery man. Except for those kisses. If he kissed her again, she’d recognize him, that was for sure. But as far as his height and weight and the width of his shoulders went, she couldn’t remember a thing.

Instead, a picture of Marsh, sitting on the hood of the jeep, gazing at her in the moonlight, kept popping into her head.

He’d left the house before she even woke up this morning. Simon told her that Marsh had scheduled appointments all day; he wouldn’t be back until nearly seven o’clock.

Marsh must feel like hell. He wasn’t a heavy drinker, in fact he barely ever touched the stuff. He’d told her years before that he stopped drinking after he went to medical school and found out exactly what alcohol did to the human body. He’d become a vegetarian at about the same time.

“What’s your plan for Hayden Young?” Frankie asked. “Are you gonna go for the direct approach again? The way you did with the sheriff?”

“I don’t know. Hey, Frankie?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you think of Marsh Devlin?” She opened her eyes and looked at her friend.

Frankie was wearing sunglasses, so Leila couldn’t see her eyes, but her eyebrows were definitely raised.

“The accent’s to die for, and he’s really good-looking. Different from the beach boy,” she added, gesturing toward Hayden with her chin, “but still handsome.” She shrugged. “He’s got nice hands, too. Remember the time I thought I broke my ankle? Marsh checked it out. It hurt like hell, but it would’ve been a lot worse if he hadn’t been so gentle. He seems nice. He’s always so polite….”

Leila sat forward. “But?”

“He’s so reserved.” Frankie smiled apologetically. “I don’t know, Lei, it’s hard for me to be objective because he’s definitely not my type of guy.” She grinned. “Of course, I haven’t quite figured out yet who my type of guy is. But Marsh, he’s too chilly, you know? Like if you get too close, you might freeze to death.”

Leila shook her head. “I used to think that, too. But lately, when I’m around him I definitely don’t feel as if I’m going to freeze to death.”

“Using my superior observational skills as a private detective, I’d say you sound like you’d rather kiss Marsh Devlin than Hayden Young.”

“Isn’t that weird?” Leila said. “Marsh and I have done nothing but fight for years, and now, all of a sudden, I feel as if there’s some bizarre magnet pulling me toward him. I’ve been really talking with him, too. I’ve been finding out things about him that I never knew before. He’s not at all chilly, not even close. He’s warm and kind and wonderfully sweet…and I sound like an idiot, don’t I?”

Frankie grinned. “Do you remember that summer back in high school when you had a crush on Alan Johnson?”

Leila shook her head. “This isn’t a crush.”

“I know,” Frankie said. “Back
then
you sounded like an idiot, going on and on for hours about how Alan wore his hair and the shape of his chin, and whether or not his hitting his car horn whenever he drove past you on Main Street meant something. What you’re saying now sounds very different to me.”

Leila closed her eyes and lifted her face to the warm sunshine. It sounded different because it was different. What she felt about Marsh wasn’t a schoolgirl crush. It was more than that. It was bigger. It was…No, she couldn’t even bring herself to
think
the
L
-word.

Falling in love wasn’t a bad idea. In fact, it was something she’d always hoped would happen to her. But falling in love with Marshall Devlin was the last thing she wanted to do.

Marsh wanted her to move back to Sunrise Key, to be reabsorbed by the small-town life that she’d worked so hard to leave behind. But she prided herself on her independence. If she came back, she’d be treated like a child again. She’d suffocate from the lack of privacy.

Yet…

Leila opened her eyes and glanced over at her friend. Frankie wasn’t suffocating. Frankie had lived on Sunrise Key all her life, but she didn’t feel penned in or trapped by the constant gossiping and prevalent nosiness. In fact, she joined in, happily keeping track of the island’s goings-on.

But they were two different people, with two different sets of priorities.

Leila sighed, closing her eyes again and letting her thoughts drift. They drifted directly to Marsh, but she was too sleepy to fight it. She fell asleep, dreaming about the way he wore his hair and the shape of his chin—and the way he talked to her, sharing his secrets with her, sharing and showing her the warmth of his soul.

“Excuse me, miss.”

The voice was deep and resonant and very male, but Leila was too tired to open her eyes. Besides, whoever he was, he probably wasn’t talking to her. He was probably talking to someone else farther down the beach, and the wind was probably carrying his voice, making him sound as if he were standing right next to her.

“Miss, I couldn’t help but notice that you’ve been asleep for nearly two hours,” the voice said, “and the sun’s way too hot to stay in one position like this and…Hey, aren’t you Simon Hunt’s sister?”

He
was
talking to her. Because as far as Leila knew, Simon didn’t have any other sisters. She opened her eyes.

It was Hayden Young, suspected ninja and hunk lifeguard—live and in person and standing directly in front of her.

“Yes.” Her voice sounded rusty from sleep, and she cleared her throat. She glanced over to where Frankie’s chair had been, but the beach was empty. She vaguely remembered Frankie telling her good-bye, that it was time for her to go to work. “Simon’s my brother. My name’s Leila.”

Hayden held out his hand. “Yep, I know.” He gave her a smile worthy of a men’s fitness magazine cover.

“You do?” Leila shook his hand. It was big. Big fingers, big palm. It engulfed hers almost entirely.

“Simon’s mentioned you the few times we’ve talked,” Hayden said. “And so has the town doctor—what’s his name?—Devlin. Dr. Devlin. The Englishman.” He didn’t let go of her hand. Instead he tugged on it. “Come on. I’m on my way up to the concession stand. You should get out of the sun for a while and put some liquids into your system.”

“All right.” Leila let him pull her effortlessly out of her beach chair. This was perfect. Or almost perfect, anyway. It would be perfect if she could only think of a way to get him to kiss her. How on earth was she going to do that?

More than just Hayden Young’s hands were big. Standing next to him, he was close to half a foot taller than she was, and even more muscular up close. With his long hair, he looked more like a professional wrestler than a philosophy doctoral candidate.

The effect of being pulled to her feet so suddenly after being sound asleep made her light-headed, and she swayed. Hayden reached out to steady her, putting his hands on her waist. His touch was extremely impersonal. In fact, it was remarkable how it
didn’t
make her heart flutter.

“Yep, you definitely need some fluids.” He kept one arm around her as they started up the beach.

Leila was grateful for his support but very aware of the many curious eyes watching them. “Careful.” She glanced up at him. “You may want to grab hold of my elbow…or someplace a little less friendly looking. If we walk up the beach arm in arm like this, telephones all over Sunrise Key are going to start ringing.”

Hayden grinned down at her. “I’ve noticed that gossip is a team sport here on the key. It doesn’t take much to get those rumors flying, does it?”

Leila arched an eyebrow. “You sound like a man who’s been burned.”

“My third day on the key, I had lunch with Maggie O’Banyon. Do you know her? She works in that little souvenir shop on the road that leads out to the point?”

Leila nodded. “I know Maggie. Let me guess. You and Maggie had a friendly lunch, and by that evening, the entire town was planning your wedding.”

“You got it.” Hayden released her as they went under the open-air roof of the concession stand, watching her carefully to make sure she was all right. “Maggie was more upset about it than I was.” He moved to the end of the refreshment line and took off his sunglasses. “I thought it was funny. But it seems she had been seeing a man who lived out on Captiva Island for quite some time, but no one knew. In order to kill the rumors about her and me, she had to tell everyone about this other guy.”

“And you weren’t upset by the rumors at all?”

“Like I said, it was funny. Although I have to confess, I haven’t asked anyone to lunch since then. Or dinner either.” He smiled. “I haven’t wanted to risk starting any other rumors.”

“I don’t blame you.” So much for kissing him. He may have put his arm around her, but he’d never in a million years kiss her right there on the public beach.

Oddly enough, Leila didn’t care. It simply didn’t matter. Despite the fact that Hayden Young was friendly and gorgeous, she couldn’t picture herself falling in love with him. Even if he
was
her ninja and could kiss like a dream come true.

They’d reached the front of the line, and Hayden leaned on the counter, turning slightly to look back at Leila. “What’ll you have?” he asked.

“I don’t need anything,” Leila said. “My purse is in the trunk of my car and—”

“My treat,” Hayden offered. “What’ll it be? Soda pop? Or a fruit slush? Or maybe some juice?”

She
was
thirsty. “A small ginger ale? No ice?”

“Make it a large,” Hayden told the teenaged boy behind the counter. “And I’ll have a large orange juice.”

Leila leaned against the rough wood of the building’s center support pole. She wasn’t light-headed any longer, but she felt slightly odd. “I have to point out,” she said to Hayden, “that you
have
risked starting another rumor by putting your arm around me on the beach, and now—horrors—by buying me a ginger ale. Don’t you know that buying a woman a soda pop from the town beach concession stand is just a mere step away from buying her an engagement ring?”

Hayden laughed, his straight, white teeth gleaming. “If you want to know the truth, Leila, I figured you were safe.”

Safe? What did he mean by
safe?
Safe enough to flirt with over a soda at the town beach? Or safe enough to kiss the heck out of at midnight on New Year’s Eve?