Up to Me (Shore Secrets) (7 page)

“Yeah, actually.”

“Figures,” she sniffed.

Gray wanted to jump to his defense. Of course, he’d done that last night, and look what it had netted him; aching ribs and a shoe-shaped bruise on his thigh. So if Ward didn’t want to explain the situation, Gray would keep his mouth shut, too. But he did nod. “Hey.”

“Hey,” said Ward with a corresponding nod.

Finally. Someone who didn’t give a shit if, when, or how he kissed Ella. What a difference a little testosterone made. Guys didn’t care. Guys rolled with the flow. Didn’t ask a million questions.

Ella slid a cup in front of Ward, then sat back down. Gray immediately grabbed her hand again. If they weren’t going to get the opportunity to talk, he’d damn well take the opportunity to touch her.

“I had to drive into Corning yesterday afternoon to pick up a part for my labeler.” Ward sucked down about half his mug in one long gulp. “Forgot my phone at home. Didn’t see Brooke’s text until about midnight. Sorry I didn’t vote on the hot guy. I say go for it.” He fished in his back pocket. Pulled out a familiar, shiny foil packet. And shoved it across the table at Ella. “Here. I brought you a condom. Safety first.”

Holy Christ. Gray was used to thinking on his feet, always having a ready answer, no matter how tricky the topic. According to his last three performance reviews, in fact, he excelled at it. A glib tongue was one of those unspoken job requirements for living life undercover, on the road. But there weren’t enough coffee beans in all of Brazil to give Gray the mental capacity to cope with this conversation.

Ella wiggled out of his grasp and proceeded to studiously crumble a muffin into about twenty pieces. Casey dissolved into giggles. After a withering glare at Ward, Piper used the tip of a long, wine-red nail to move the condom in front of Gray. “You might as well give it to its eventual wearer.”

“Huh.” Humor and surprise crinkled Ward’s eyes. Gray could tell he was trying to smile, too, but the swollen lip turned it into more of a sneer. “I still vote yes.” His hand whipped out, covering the foil packet. “But buy your own damn condoms.”

Gray preferred a tidy and self-contained emotional life. This group, however, poked into his business with the invasiveness of kudzu. And short of getting up and walking out, he didn’t see a way to fight it. So he grabbed a blueberry muffin with a faint smile. “No worries.” Gray winked at Ella, who’d kept remarkably quiet during the entire exchange. “I’ve got it covered.”

She surprised him, yet again, with a toss of her ponytail and a reciprocal wink. It was as if she were bubble-wrapped in shyness, but her true nature kept poking through. This breakfast wasn’t going at all how Gray had expected. But he wasn’t complaining, either. While also riding the fine line of wondering if this woman he barely knew was worth subjecting himself to this much crazy.

“I appreciate the gesture, Ward, but this is the twenty-first century.” Ella put her hand on Gray’s thigh. “Not only am I not ashamed to buy condoms, but we have big bowls of them at the guest services desk. Mayhew Manor believes in, ah, covering a guest’s every potential need.”

“Really? Covering?” Casey snorted. “Worst pun ever. Can’t believe you went there.”

As they all laughed, another door slammed. Moments later, the static of a sound system clicked on. Something by The Beatles—all their songs sounded the same to Gray—provided a cheery soundtrack to breakfast.

“Oh, good.” A tiny brown dachshund scampered in front of a middle-aged blonde woman. Hanging out of the pocket of her flower-embroidered cardigan was a leash and a lanyard full of keys. “You all have food. I ran out to walk Mitzi and got waylaid by Betsy Peltz. You know how she always talks your ear off.”

“You know you’re always happy to listen,” Casey gently teased. She bent down to give a good rub between the dog’s floppy ears.

“I’ve got a scoop. Big scoop. The mother lode of all scoops.” Unloading her pockets behind the counter, the woman stopped, then stared straight at Gray with the faintest crease of suspicion between her brows. “Nobody told me it was Bring A Stranger To Breakfast day.”

Wow. Talk about a contrast to the easy friendliness everyone else had shown him. Gray didn’t know what to make of her overt hostility, but he figured it would be safer to let Ella handle it than to open his mouth and unintentionally make things worse.

“He’s with me,” said Ella. She eased off the stool to put her arm around the waist of the older woman with a reassuring squeeze. “This is Graydon Locke. He’s a guest at Mayhew Manor for the next couple of weeks.”

“I can vouch for him, too,” said Ward. He wiped powdered sugar from his one-day-closer-to-a-beard scruff.

Even weirder. Gray wondered why, exactly, did he need to be vouched for? They were eating donuts, not attempting to breach the entrance gate to Area 51.

“Gray, I’d like you to meet Dawn Cosgrove.” Ella used the arm at her waist to pull her a few steps closer to Gray. Then she picked up the dog and dumped it in his lap. Guess Ella figured the snuffling pup would soften Dawn towards Gray. Worked for him. He loved dogs. To make friends fast, Gray let Mitzi lick the piece of muffin he’d palmed. “She runs the general store.”

“More importantly, she’s my stepmother,” said Casey.

“And unofficial godmother to all of us,” added Piper. She took a sip of her coffee, crinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out.

As Ward got up, he said in a low voice to Gray, “Dawn gets spooked when we pull new people into our group. Don’t take it personally.” Then he grabbed the pitcher of milk and poured a hefty stream into Piper’s mug. “Don’t know how you always forget the milk,” he muttered under his breath.

How could Dawn run a store and be uncomfortable at all with strangers? This place definitely had just earned a ding on his mental report. Gray would need to come back and sniff around solo. The store was well positioned for tourists on the lake, but if the proprietor’s rudeness scared away customers, it was an albatross. Just the sort of thing he was paid to notice and identify.

But then she visibly relaxed. Whether it was the sight of Mitzi licking Gray’s throat or Ella and Ward vouching for him, he didn’t know. Dawn mustered a genuine smile that brightened her face and shaved off ten years. “Welcome to Cosgrove’s. I’ve known these kiddos for what feels like their whole lives. Can’t help being a little protective.”

Okay. He’d play along for now, but dig a little deeper into Dawn Cosgrove and her questionable customer service later. “Sounds like you’ve got an enviable connection.”

“Ooh, thank you. That’s a perfect segue into my news.” She tapped a spoon against the silver milk pitcher. “Listen up, everyone.”

“Dawn, we’re all less than a foot away from you,” said Ward with a sigh. “Just spit it out.”

Dawn looked from one expectant face to another, clearly trying to heighten the anticipation. Finally, with her eyes bugged out, she blurted, “Larry Paulson was seen leaving Pam Flickinger’s house at dawn this morning.”

Ward grunted. The women gasped. Everyone’s mouth dropped open. Comical to watch. Nevertheless, Gray didn’t expect it to hold his interest for more than another minute.

What would a small town be without gossip? It had been interesting enough to meet Ella’s friends, but Gray didn’t want to sit here listening to them dissect the bedroom antics of people he didn’t know. He could sit in the hotel dining room and hear the same crap.

Thanks to the demands of his job, Gray spent way too much of his life in restaurants. Almost always alone, unintentionally listening to other people’s stories, other people’s drama, the ups and downs, ins and outs of random strangers’ love lives. Well, not today, damn it. Today he wanted to give in to impulse and find out more about the intriguing Ella. Maybe lick off the sugar crystals clinging to her lower lip. As soon as Gray finished his coffee, he’d drag Ella out of there, whether or not they were finished chewing over the latest rumor.

Ella sat back down, facing Gray. Took both his hands in hers. “You need the backstory to understand just how huge this news is. Pam’s the town treasurer. She’s had the job as long as I can remember. Her husband got laid off a while back, and picked up work as a long-haul truck driver.”

Sounded like the perfect recipe for a little hanky-panky. Boring job, AWOL husband. Nothing earthshattering so far. Gray handed Mitzi off to Casey so he could scarf another muffin, while still keeping a tight hold of Ella with the other hand. “Unless she’s screwing this guy on a bed stuffed with the town’s cash reserves, I’d downgrade it from huge to mildly noteworthy.”

Piper picked up the story. “Larry is the city planner. He’s been here less than a year. We never had one before, but when our tourist revenue started dropping, we decided it was time for drastic measures.”

Gray didn’t think it would disclose his years of business expertise to at least comment. Especially since nobody knew his cover story yet. Seeing as how he hadn’t decided between generic “consultant”—which always seemed as plausible as James Bond’s import/export excuse—and “policy advisor.” “You’ve got to spend money to figure out how to make more money.”

“Precisely. Tourist season kicks off in a matter of weeks, though, and bookings look to be dead even with last year at this time. No big events, no corporate sponsors, no indication Larry’s been doing anything.”

“I’d say he’s been doing Pam.” Ward brought Piper a refill. Added her milk again, too. She gave him the stiffest of nods in thanks. Gray wondered why she went all ice princess on the guy when he waited on her hand and foot. Harboring a grudge? Lovers turned frenemies? And then wondered what it was about these people that sucked him into their small-town dramas.

“The point is, he’s an adulterer. A low life. Untrustworthy.” Piper ticked the points off on her fingers. “It casts a cloud over the mayor for hiring someone so questionable in the first place.”

“This isn’t the eighteenth century. Not a lot of contracts have a morals clause anymore.” Gray wanted to hear from his still mostly silent date. He noticed that she sat back, let the conversation swirl around her. Was she waiting her turn? Waiting to hear what everyone else thought before chiming in with her own opinion? Or biding her time and her words until the first furor died down? “Why do you care?” he asked Ella.

“Because I’m the mayor,” answered Dawn, with a self-deprecating shrug of her shoulders.

Well, now it was getting interesting. Political intrigue that could tear the small town of Geneva apart from the inside out. That would definitely impact his recommendations on the future of Mayhew Manor. Gray looked from the den mother to this tight circle of friends. “How pissed are you right now?”

Silence hung over the table for more than a few beats. Then Dawn laughed, throwing her arms up in the air. “You pegged it exactly right. I rushed in here to share the salaciousness of it. Pam’s married. Started throwing Botox parties right after Larry moved here. Larry’s sniffed at the skirts of every woman between thirty and sixty, and doesn’t like to take no for an answer. It never crossed my mind that I’d look bad until Piper pointed it out.”

“Piper has the gift of being able to look at an issue from every angle. It’s a good thing that she pointed out the potential fallout.” Ella sat up a little straighter as she spoke. Gray saw that her friends all leaned forward infinitesimally. They hung on her every word, like she was pouring glue into the jagged cracks of the situation. “It gives Dawn the head start to try and put a lockdown on this rumor. If that doesn’t work—”

“You know it won’t.” Casey shook her head. “Betsy Peltz will be going door-to-door to deliver gossip this juicy. You watch. This news will make it back to Mayhew Manor before the two of you do.”

“Then she’s got the morning to come up with a good spin. A way to buffer herself. This doesn’t have to be a tragedy.”

“Except for Pam’s husband,” said Ward dryly.

“If we all work together, this can be turned into little more than a colorful anecdote in a few weeks.” Ella sounded calm and determined, as if merely by saying it, she could make it so. Her confidence impressed Gray. Turned him on a little, too. Or maybe that was just the heat where her palm burned through his shorts, while her fingertips grazed his bare thigh.

“You think this’ll blow over?” Ward shook his head. “Look, I’ll do what I can to help. I’d still put five bucks on it being the talk of your party.”

“What party?” Gray asked.

Ella’s eyes sparkled. “Mayhew Manor throws a party every year on Memorial Day, for the whole town. Everyone’s invited. Our gift to them before the craziness of tourist season kicks off. We shut down the hotel and basically throw open the doors from noon until the last stragglers leave at dawn.”

“It’s the party of the year.” With a final scratch behind the ears, Casey set Mitzi on the floor. “Every year.”

“Nonstop food and booze. And plenty of trees to hide behind with a willing partner once the booze kicks in.” Ward wrapped his hand around his chin and shot Piper a look. A significant look that she shied away from with a head twitch. What the hell was the story between those two? But then Ella’s words sank in—or the vat of coffee Gray had drunk finally kicked in.

“You shut down your entire hotel? At the end of a three-day, holiday weekend?” The idea was so preposterous, Gray couldn’t help himself from asking. “How much revenue do you lose?”

“It’s a tradition, Gray,” she said gently. “A family tradition. Those are priceless.”

He disagreed. Everything, and everyone, had a price. Especially family. Gray, for example, would empty his bank account to the last dime if it meant never hearing from his father again. No wonder her hotel was ripe for takeover. Emotional baggage—and this woman had more than her fair share—had no place in business. “Sentiment can’t be cheap.”

“It shouldn’t be,” she shot back. Tension gathered in the air.

“Gray, would you like more coffee?” Dawn hovered at his shoulder with a carafe at the ready.

“No, thanks.” He regretted revealing his utter shock. Someone might wonder why he knew anything about hotel profit margins. Now, more than ever, Gray felt it was time to extricate themselves and get started on the real date. There were four people too many in this room. They steered him off the safe path of first date conversation. Gray tossed his napkin onto the plate. “Ella, we should go.”