Seaside Reunion (20 page)

His next move hadn’t been part of his strategy. And while he knew it might not be the smartest thing he’d ever done, Nate followed the urging of his own heart.

Resting his hands on her shoulders, he leaned down and kissed her.

Even as he made contact, he told himself to keep it quick and gentle. A mere touching of lips, lingering just long enough to test the waters. He didn’t want to compound this possible mistake by letting things get too heavy—despite the strong urge to tug her close and give her a true demonstration of the depth of his feelings.

Except Lindsey’s response changed everything. He’d expected her, at best, to accept his kiss. He hadn’t expected her to melt against him, throw her arms around his neck and return the kiss, holding nothing back.

One thing combat coverage had taught him was to remain flexible. Adapt to sudden changes.

So he adapted. Enthusiastically.

How much time passed, Nate had no idea. But when Lindsey at last eased back and he searched her flushed face, inches from his, he wished this moment could last forever. Because as he held her in the shelter of his arms, he knew with absolute certainty this was where he was meant to be. That after years of searching, after logging hundreds of thousands of miles all over the world, he’d come home at last.

Before he could speak, however, she wiggled free, slipped around him and made a beeline for the door.

He turned, but stayed by the desk. “Lindsey.”

She hesitated, her hand on the knob, and risked a peek at him. Her hair was mussed, her cheeks flushed, her respiration uneven.

“We still need to talk.”

“I know.” The words came out breathless. “But not today.”

With that, she slipped through the door and closed it behind her.

Nate didn’t follow. He didn’t have to. This little rendezvous hadn’t been designed to eliminate the obstacles in their path—only to find out whether Lindsey cared enough about him to make eliminating them worthwhile.

And when he finally strolled toward the door, stopping in front of the Paul Bunyan souvenir mirror on the office wall to wipe a smear of lipstick off his cheek, he grinned. They might not have talked much just now. But he had his answer.

It was time to put his plan into action.

Right after he took care of one other important piece of business.

“Did your editor really like it?” Jarrod leaned forward in his chair, eyes alight.

Nate smiled. The eagerness and enthusiasm on the boy’s face was more than enough payoff for the hours he’d spent working with him. “He loved it. I couldn’t have done it without you, though, and I told him that.”

The youngster beamed.

“Here you go.” Cindy exited the house onto the deck carrying two glasses of lemonade and set them on the round patio table where he and Jarrod sat.

“Nate’s editor liked our story, Mom.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. You both did an incredible job.” She sent a grateful smile his way, and Nate acknowledged it with a slight dip of his head. “Now I’ll leave you two gentlemen to finish up your business. I still have another load of laundry to do.”

As she disappeared back through the sliding door, Jarrod took a sip of his lemonade and furrowed his brow. “You know, I thought this summer was going to stink. Dad always tried not to travel as much when I was off school, and me and him would bum around together a lot. When he did go out of town, Mom thought up lots of cool stuff for us to do, too. Then everything changed.” He traced the partial ring of condensation on the table, using his finger to complete the circle. “I never thought I’d be happy again. But this summer turned out okay, after all.”

Yeah, it had. For him, too. Thanks in part to the boy sitting across from him, who’d helped him confront a lot of his own issues from the past—and write an article that had been as therapeutic for him as it had been for his young student.

But most of all thanks to Lindsey, who’d pushed him beyond his comfort level, into emotional territory he’d avoided for too many years. And who’d stolen his heart all over again in the process.

“So are you leaving soon?”

At Jarrod’s question, he forced himself to refocus. “I’m not sure of my timing yet.”

The boy swirled the ice in his glass, keeping his gaze on the opaque liquid. “It’s too bad you have to go back. Starfish Bay is a nice place to live. But I guess Chicago is more exciting.”

Not anymore.

“It has its good points, like any other place.” He kept his response noncommittal and changed the subject. “So tell me what book you’re reading now.”

He listened as Jarrod launched into an enthusiastic recap of the latest adventure novel Lindsey had recommended, three levels higher than his current grade. The boy’s reading skills had soared in the past few weeks. Another gratifying outcome of their tutoring sessions.

As they finished their lemonades and Cindy showed him out, Jarrod followed him to his car, then stood awkwardly, hands in pockets as they said their goodbyes. At the last second, though, the boy surprised him with a quick hug, then backed off and dipped his head to hide the telltale blush as he spoke.

“Thanks again. For everything. I sure wish you were staying.”

Throat tightening, Nate squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “I appreciate that.”

And as he climbed into his car, he couldn’t help hoping that if all went as he planned, a certain shopkeeper would respond with an impulsive hug of her own—and a similar sentiment.

Chapter Thirteen

L
indsey eased through the door of the Orchid Café, which was more packed than usual for Saturday lunch, the customers shoulder-to-shoulder in the small foyer area as they waited for seats. A quick scan told her Nate wasn’t among the diners who’d already been served, confirming what the absence of his car in the parking lot had already implied—he wasn’t around. For a man who’d said he wanted to talk, he was certainly making himself scarce. And he couldn’t have lost interest. Not based on that kiss two days ago in the Orchid office.

At the mere thought of that cozy encounter, a flush of embarrassment warmed her cheeks. What in the world had come over her? Nate might have initiated the embrace, but she was the one who’d taken it to the next level, despite her reservations about their future. Talk about acting completely out of character. Not that he’d seemed to mind, although…

“Lindsey? Is that you back there?”

At Genevieve’s query, Lindsey waved at the older woman. “Yes. Quite a crowd today.”

“I’ve got a counter spot if you’re alone.”

Truth be told, the only thing she was hungry for was Nate’s company. But maybe Genevieve could enlighten her about his vanishing act.

“That’ll work.”

Edging sideways through the crowd, she tried not to step on too many toes. Once she emerged from the crush, she followed Genevieve to the counter and slid onto the one empty stool.

“My goodness. I can’t recall ever having such a busy Saturday, except the time that movie company came up here to film for a few days. That was back when you were still in Sacramento. Best I can tell from doing a little eavesdropping, most of these folks heard about The Point in the media and came up to take a look. Might be a few donations out there.” She winked and gestured to the Save the Point brochures Lindsey had arranged to have printed. “I’m handing them out with every bill. What’s the tally now?”

“Close to twenty-five thousand, as of last night.”

“Mercy! That’s a chunk of change. And to think it all started with that piece Nate wrote.”

The perfect opening.

Lindsey made a project of unwrapping her silverware from the paper napkin. “I haven’t seen him in the past couple of days.”

“Oh. I thought you knew. He left this morning for Chicago.”

The fork slipped out of her fingers and clattered to the floor.

Heart pounding, she slid off the stool and bent to retrieve it. Nate was gone? Without a word?

A sense of déjà vu swept over her. Surely history wasn’t repeating itself.

“No. I hadn’t heard that.” She grabbed the fork and retook her seat.

“Here, let me replace that for you.” Genevieve gave her a knowing look, tugged the fork from her fingers, and pulled a clean one from below the counter. “He said he had some business to take care of. I don’t think he plans to be gone for more than a day or two.”

Lindsey let out a relieved breath.

He was coming back.

“You didn’t think he’d up and leave without saying goodbye, did you?”

At Genevieve’s slightly reproving tone, a wave of guilt crashed over Lindsey. “No. That wouldn’t be like him.”

“It surely wouldn’t.” Genevieve retrieved a sponge from below the counter and swiped at an imaginary speck on the spotless surface, using that as an excuse to lean close and speak more softly so the diners on either side of Lindsey wouldn’t hear. “But he will be leaving soon. Unless someone gives him an incentive to stay. As my grandma Wilson always used to say, when the Lord sends an opportunity your way, have the good sense to recognize it.”

“Genevieve! Tony’s going down for the third time.” Lillian bustled over, a stack of menus in hand. “Unless you want to lose the best kitchen helper we’ve ever had, you better get back there and pitch in. I’ll handle the hostess duties. But if this keeps up, we’re going to have to hire more help!”

Without waiting for her sister to respond, Lillian hurried toward the front door.

“Duty calls.” Genevieve pulled out an order pad. “What’ll you have, Lindsey?”

“Scrambled eggs to go with my scrambled brain?”

The older woman grinned at her rueful inflection. “I’ll bring you a chicken Caesar salad. You missed the boat on breakfast.” She wrote on the pad, tore off the sheet and winked. “Just don’t miss the boat with Nate.”

With that, she pushed through the door to the kitchen.

“Lindsey!”

Her mind still on Nate, it took Lindsey a few seconds to shift gears after Susan Peroni called out to her. As she turned toward the mayor, the woman said a few words to her husband, who continued toward the door while his wife joined Lindsey at the counter.

“What’s up, Susan?”

“I had a call from Louis Mattson while Dale and I were eating. He saw your interview on the news, and he’s been reading the articles that have been cropping up about The Point. The PR backlash has apparently made him rethink the project. He asked if we could defer making plans for a citizen vote at our meeting next week and instead let him come back to discuss the project again with residents. I’m going to send an email out to the council members this morning. And we’ll need to put up flyers around town and at the Mercantile. I expect we’ll have another full house.” Twin creases appeared on the woman’s brow. “I have a feeling he’s going to withdraw his proposal for a development.”

Though tempted to cheer, Lindsey did her best to maintain a neutral expression. “If he does, we’ll survive.”

Susan shot her a disgruntled look. “I know this is what you wanted. And I love The Point, too. But sometimes love isn’t reason enough to preserve something. Not if there are greater benefits in letting it go.”

“I’m not certain there are.”

The mayor regarded her. “Did you know Janice is thinking about closing her gallery?”

Lindsey blinked. “No.”

“It’s not public knowledge. Janice mentioned it a few days ago when I stopped in to buy one of those handmade greeting cards she sells. There’s not enough business in Starfish Bay to cover her expenses and provide her with a living wage. But there might be if we had an upscale resort nearby.”

Susan let that sink in for a moment before she continued. “And Janice isn’t the only one struggling in this tough economy. It seems to me part of our responsibility as council members is to do everything we can to make this community not only an appealing place to live, but a viable place to do business. Don’t you?”

Guilt tugged at Lindsey’s conscience. “Yes. But on the flip side, don’t we have a responsibility to preserve the natural beauty of this place for future generations?”

“Assuming there’s still a town here for future generations to live in. Dennis is having financial issues at the fishing camp, too. So is Jaz.” Susan adjusted the strap of her bulging shoulder purse. “Well, I’ll get the notices printed up and drop off a few at the Mercantile. Spread the word about the meeting, okay?”

“Sure.”

As Susan wove through the tables, Lindsey swiveled back to the counter. Her gaze fell on the placemat, which featured a slogan the sisters had written soon after they opened the café.

Wish upon a star in Starfish Bay—where dreams come true.

Was Susan right? Were the dreams of a lot of people—like Janice and Dennis and Jaz—about to go belly-up? Would Inn at The Point save them?

Yet if it did, other dreams would die. Starfish Bay Chapel and the headland—a touchstone for many residents—would disappear. Should those irreplaceable assets be sacrificed on the altar of economic prosperity?

A few weeks ago, her answer would have been an unequivocal
no
. But if Janice and Dennis and Jaz were in trouble, others were, too. Even the Mercantile was feeling the pinch. So where did her loyalties lie—with the town, or with the touchstone?