Chapter 9
Nick checked his text messages for what seemed the hundredth time. Phoebe was driving him crazy.
You have to keep this going! Don’t be a slacker! I promised Ms. Sunjoy’s agent that you’d respond before the day is over. So where is Scurvy Rickets?! Tweet, my darling! Tweet!!
Two seconds later came another:
Tweet! Tweet! Tweet! Team Beanbottom wants a response from their fearless leader!
“Goodness. Someone wants to talk to you very badly,” Merry said. “Go ahead and make a phone call. I don’t mind.” She drew an olive into her mouth and sipped her dirty martini.
Nick shook his head as he tapped a response on his phone.
How many times do I have to tell you I’m in the middle of a dinner with M Sunjoy? Bug me again and I’ll shut off my phone. Please. Stop. Call you later.
Nick tapped ‘send’ and looked at Merry. “It’s my agent, Phoebe Rice. She’s pushing me to do something I don’t want to do, and she’s relentless. I can’t really complain about that aspect of her personality, because it’s part of what makes her a great agent. But right now she’s being a pain. I’ll deal with her later.”
“Phoebe Rice? She was at the top of my A-list when I finished my first Foundling Faeries book, but she stopped accepting new clients before I even had the chance to query her. I didn’t realize she repped writers like you—columnists, I mean. I thought she only took on fiction writers. My agent is Walter Weiderman. Walter is okay, but he’s only responsive when he wants something. It’s frustrating,” Merry said, and laughed when Nick’s cell beeped again. He groaned and glanced at the message.
It takes two seconds to shoot off a tweet, but fine, fine! You win! Enjoy dinner! But remember you’re dining in an enemy camp! Gather intel on her plans for this ongoing battle! Rickets must win! Sales up! Or should that be sails up? Haha. Call me later. Xo
“She’s ridiculous,” Nick murmured with a soft laugh, and shut off his phone. Just because Phoebe had signed off didn’t mean she wouldn’t get antsy and text him again in another five minutes. He tucked the device into his pants pocket as the waiter delivered two martinis.
“Will you be okay to drive?” Merry asked.
“Yes. I won’t have another, and by the time we finish our dinner I’ll be fine to drive. Relax, Ms. Sunjoy. They haven’t even delivered our appetizer yet.”
“Sorry for being a mother hen.” Merry sipped her drink and leaned down to pet Chula who sat leaning against Merry’s leg. The dog appeared to be keeping an eye on the foot traffic beyond the wrought iron fence separating the patio dining area of the restaurant from the sidewalk. “I worry about stuff like that. My mother—” She looked at Nick and shrugged. “She died in a car accident—drugs, drinking, and driving. I can’t tell you how many accidents she got into before that. She certainly didn’t care about the danger to other drivers, and it never seemed to bother her to have me and my sister in the car either.”
“I understand. My father was an alcoholic who had no concerns about getting behind the wheel. I don’t drive drunk. If I’m impaired, I’ll call a taxi or Uber. And I would never put anyone else at risk. You’re safe with me, Merry Sunjoy.”
Nick leaned forward and rested his hand over Merry’s, gave hers a gentle squeeze.
“Have you heard from your sister today?” Nick asked.
Merry shook her head. “No. But I’m sure Ben would call if there was a problem or her condition worsened. This is on the heels of a second miscarriage, so they’re emotionally wrung out at this point.”
“I didn’t know that. I’m sorry. I can only imagine how painful it must be for them.”
They thanked the server who delivered their calamari appetizer and dug in.
“Holly told me not to come yet,” Merry said when they were alone again, “but then asked me to be there for a trip to Mom’s gravesite. Saturday is the anniversary of her death. I’d hoped to avoid it, but I’ll probably leave tomorrow. I have to make arrangements for Chula first.”
“I’ve got the villa through the end of the month. You can stay as long as you need to, or come and go as necessary.”
“That’s very generous,” Merry said.
“No, selfish, not generous. I’m not ready to say goodbye to you.”
His words were rewarded with the appearance of the dimple he adored.
“I appreciate the offer,” she said.
“Do whatever you need to do, of course, but understand that as long as I have the villa you’re welcome to stay there. And don’t worry about Chula. She can hang with me until you either come back—which I hope you will—or instruct me on where to send her. This, at least, you don’t have to worry about.”
“Why are you being so nice?” Merry asked. “You barely know me.”
“I think you’ll agree that it doesn’t feel that way. For reasons I can’t explain,” he said, choosing his words with care, “I feel as if I’ve known you for a long time. And our family dynamics, a similar upbringing, puts us in a place of understanding that not everyone shares. I like you, Merry Sunjoy—genuinely like you. I like your impetuousness, your honesty, and your innate kindness. So I don’t know you well, but I do know you. And maybe this . . . whatever it is, will grow into something more.”
Nick leaned forward and touched her lips with his, a soft kiss of promise filled with hope, yearning, and a heart full of things for which he had no compass. Merry Sunjoy had come into his world and, somehow, everything had changed.
These were unchartered waters, and Nick didn’t care.
***
Merry stared into the flickering gold of Nick’s eyes and knew she was lost. The gentle touch of his hands on her face warmed her, and when he brushed her lips with his, a feather-light touch, the promise in them lodged itself in her heart. Here, finally, was a man she could trust. She felt it with every piece of herself and believed it down to her core.
She didn’t want to think of her ex, not now, not while she was spending time with the most amazing man she had ever met. But it was impossible not to make comparisons to Tom, because her marriage to him hadn’t simply been a failed relationship. It had been her only relationship, and since the divorce she had held herself in suspended animation, refusing to open herself to even the shallowest of associations.
She thought of all the kindnesses Nick had already shown during their brief friendship, considerations Tom would never have offered. Tom, she thought, would have told lies to evade everything Nick had already done without question.
“You’re far away right now,” Nick said.
“I was comparing you to my ex,” Merry admitted, and winced. “Sorry. According to Cosmo, that’s a big taboo, but on the upside, you come out way ahead.
“Thing is, he lied about everything, and he was so good at it that I didn’t realize how often or extensively he did it. When I called you to ask if I could come to the villa with Chula, you said yes without hesitation. Tom would have lied and said he was allergic to dogs. Go spend an afternoon with an eighty-seven year old woman just to be kind? Tom would have said he was already doing volunteer work at a homeless shelter. Of course, he would have spent the time at his favorite sports bar, and if he got caught in the lie, he’d make up another.” She shook her head. “I should have recognized him as a liar, having grown up with one. My mother lied all the time, about everything. With her it was because of her addictions, always trying to cover up. With Tom it was second nature.” She shook her head and smiled. “I only thought about it because you’ve been so great the last couple of days. I’m really grateful that you let me and Chula stay at the villa last night, and even more grateful for your time today. You sure charmed Ruth Canton. By the time we left, she was flirting with you.”
“She’s a fun lady. I’ll visit her again before I head for home.”
“Where is home to you, Nick? That’s one thing we haven’t talked about yet.”
“Chicago, for about ten years now. I’ve thought of moving down here, but I never act on it. I should, because I can write from anywhere. So can you, for that matter. I don’t suppose you’ve considered a move to the Gulf?”
“I think about it every time I vacation here. I think I told you already, but I usually stay on Siesta Key. This was my first time on Mimosa.”
“How big a move would it be?” Nick asked.
“I live in Asheville, moved there from Atlanta soon after my marriage. After the divorce, Tom left. I didn’t. I love it there, but I sold my condo recently and am crammed into my sister’s guest room temporarily while I hunt for another place.”
“So now would be the perfect time for you to move,” Nick said.
“I guess it would. But Asheville is great. It’s a dog friendly city, so Chula will fit right in.”
“Still, down here you’d have the beach, palm trees, sunshine year around.” He caught her gaze and held it. “And me, if I make the move.”
“You bribing me?” Merry asked.
“Is it working?”
Merry smiled and dropped her gaze to Chula. The little dog had abandoned her post to sprawl under the table. She relaxed now with her back legs stretched behind her and her muzzle resting on her paws.
Merry looked past the wrought iron fence at the Naples street, filled with rush hour traffic. A young man strode past with a waggy-tailed Golden Retriever tugging on a leash. An SUV with its windows down drove past, and a dog of dubious heritage stuck its head out, ears back, tongue lolling, black doggy lips drawn up in a smile, enjoying the evening air.
Merry could see herself living here, knew that over the next weeks and months she would daydream about it. But the reality was that even though all of her belongings were already in storage, an interstate move would be expensive and time consuming. And spending a few days in paradise with Nick didn’t mean they would have a long term relationship. It was more realistic that once they returned to their respective homes and the realities of life, that the friendship would dwindle. Oh, they might text or speak on the phone once in a while. But what was the likelihood that they’d pursue a real relationship?
Silver linings are everywhere, no matter how hidden they might appear, but you have to look for them. You have to expect to find them, and you have to try. You have to believe,” Moonflower whispered. “Believe . . .”
“So we’re agreed. I’ll take care of Chula for you. With your permission, I’ll bring her to visit Ruth a few more times while you’re gone, and I hope you’ll come back next week, Merry. I think we should take the chance to figure out what this is. What do you say?”
Merry leaned forward and Nick did the same. They met in the middle, and Merry whispered against his mouth, “Thank you for everything.”
“Is that a goodbye? Or does it mean you’ll come back?”
“I’ll be back,” she said, and sealed it with a kiss.
They finished their dinner with quiet conversation about their respective homes and had a good-natured argument over which city offered the best pizza. Nick insisted it was Gino’s East in Chicago while Merry bragged about Fahrenheit Pizza & Brewhouse in Asheville.
“Come to Chicago,” Nick said after they settled into his rental car for the ride back across the causeway from Naples to Mimosa Key and on to the villa. “You can try Gino’s East for yourself. And if you time it right, I’ll take you to Wrigley Field for a Cubs game.”
“Only if you come to Asheville,” she countered, “for a visit to Fahrenheit and a long drive through the Blue Ridge Parkway.”
“Count on it,” Nick said, and when his eyes focused on Merry’s, she believed him one-hundred percent.
***
Upon their return to the villa, Merry opened her laptop at the kitchen table to check flights from Fort Myers to Asheville while Nick stood on the patio watching Chula meander from bush to bush, sniffing everything within the limited reach of her black button nose. He yawned and tucked his hands in his pockets. His fingers touched his cell phone, and he withdrew it and turned it on, surprised that he had forgotten to do so. He snorted out a short laugh. Phoebe had texted him four more times, each one a plea for Scurvy Rickets to respond to Merry Sunjoy’s last comments.
Nick glanced behind him into the villa. No sign of Merry, so she was probably still in the kitchen looking for a decent flight out tomorrow. He shoved the phone back into his pocket. He knew he had to respond to Merry’s blog comment and tweet, but damn, he didn’t want to. This nasty back-and-forth upset her, and he doubted she’d be charitable if she found out the truth about him.
Not telling her he was Scurvy Rickets felt dishonest, even though he hadn’t technically lied. She had been open and honest with him, as far as he could tell, and given what she had gone through with her ex, Nick didn’t want to end up being painted with the same colors due to his omission. If he wanted this thing between them to continue—and God knew he did—he would have to tell her, at some point, in spite of the contract.
That damned contract. He had been the first to insist on it, to ensure that no one at the publishing house ‘accidentally’ let the cat out of the bag. Together he and Phoebe had cooked up the idea of Scurvy Rickets as a theatrical character, a pirate come to life straight from the pages of the books. Acting was not one of Nick’s talents, but he hadn’t been lying when he told Merry that he loved the theater, and playing the role of Scurvy Rickets at book signings and conventions fed Nick’s impossible ambitions while drawing kids and their parents into the zany world of the Pirates. Scurvy Rickets was larger than life. And, not to put too fine a point on it, but old Scurvy the pirate sold more books than Nick the sports columnist ever could.
But how was Nick to continue with Merry and keep his alter ego a secret? He knew he couldn’t. But neither could he tell her the truth. Not now. Not tonight. But soon.
***
Merry confirmed her airline ticket for tomorrow morning, shut down her computer, and visited the bathroom for a quick freshening up before joining Nick on the patio. She paused inside the doorway to watch as he squatted to pet Chula, who had finished her explorations and trotted up to him, tail wagging. His rich baritone voice carried as he promised Chula he’d take good care of her in Merry’s absence, and Merry’s heart melted with each word. She thought that if she were Chula she’d be wagging her tail, too. She laughed at herself and joined him on the patio. Nick picked Chula up and stood, evading the dog’s tongue with a twist of his head.
“You’re a natural,” Merry said, stepping beside him. She stroked Chula’s head and scratched behind her ears. “She might not want to come home with me after spending a week with you.”
“You might have to arm wrestle me for her,” Nick said, smiling. “She’s a sweet little dog. I always thought of myself as more of a Labrador Retriever kind of a guy, but Chula’s changing my mind.”
Merry smiled and looked upward where the moon’s glow brightened the clouds and cast a silvery light on everything below. The faint smell of chlorine from the pool disappeared among the aromas of tropical flora, and the Gulf breeze swirled around them with lavish gusts of salty air. She breathed in the scents of the night and closed her eyes as her hair danced with the zephyrs, the silky strands now fluttering behind her shoulders, now brushing her cheeks. She didn’t want this night to end.
Behind her, the door opened. Merry pictured Nick setting Chula inside, felt his presence even after the door closed. His arms slid around her from behind, and she kept her eyes closed and leaned back against him. His warm breath whispered in her ear as he nuzzled her hair, and she trembled when his gentle fingers slid against her neck to draw back her hair, exposing her tender throat. Merry tilted her head to allow him access. The stubble on his jaw teased her sensitive skin as his mouth and tongue explored. Merry shivered, her body tightening with need and desire.
She turned in Nick’s arms, desperate to meet his lips with hers. He held her face in his hands and took her mouth with his, an urgent kiss that deepened, ebbing and flowing like the throb of the sea. It brought her to her tiptoes, and she pressed her needy body against his, held him tight.
Closer. She wanted—needed—to be closer to this man, who had proven himself in a short time to be good and kind and honest. This man, who related to her childhood experiences, understood why she wrote the stories she wrote, why they were important to her on so many different levels. This man who somehow, impossibly, understood her.
It didn’t matter that she had known him only a couple of days. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t afraid of her own impulsiveness.
Closer.
It was all she could think as she lost herself in the sensate world they created, lost herself in him—until all she could do was feel.
***
The next morning, Merry woke to Chula pawing at the covers and Nick groaning in response. His complaint lodged itself against the junction of Merry’s throat and shoulder where Nick had buried his face, and the low rumble of sound permeated her skin and sent a quickening through her belly.
“She wants out,” Merry murmured, but didn’t want to move from this warm and delicious tangle of arms and legs. She pressed her nose into the top of Nick’s head and breathed him in. She combed her fingers through his messy hair and purred against him, “You smell like sunshine.”
His response was a short and disbelieving laugh, and she smiled at the feeling of his lips curving against her skin.
“That isn’t going to get me out of bed,” he said, and pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, then her neck, and then the sensitive spot behind her ear that sent another ripple of sensation through her. He nipped at her earlobe and rubbed his scratchy jaw against her cheek, laughing when she grabbed two fistfuls of his hair to pull him away.
“That feels like a hundred little needles,” she said with narrowed eyes.
“How about this?”
He repeated the brush of his morning whiskers against her cheek, this time with a butterfly touch. His lips skimmed her forehead, eyes, cheeks. His hands slid over her bare skin with the reverence of a morning prayer. He whispered her name, and she moaned in response, arching against him.
Chula jumped from the bed and settled on the floor with a huff. Her walk would have to wait.
***
Merry squirmed in her seat and mentally prepared for takeoff. Flying wasn’t her favorite thing to do, and she preferred to have a travel companion, someone to white-knuckle it with. Being stuck in the middle seat between two strangers added to her discomfort.
The woman with the window seat was engrossed in a book, and the businessman to Merry’s left was asleep before the plane even taxied to the runway. Judging from his twitching eyelids and open-mouthed snores, he wasn’t waking up anytime soon.
The plane lifted off and Merry closed her eyes and focused her thoughts on Nick. She replayed their morning lovemaking, the sunshiny scent of his hair, the strong play of his muscles beneath her hands. And after, the tender moment looking into each other’s eyes, abbreviated by laughter when Chula invaded their space with a wagging tail and enthusiastic doggy kisses. She had wriggled in to create a crevice between them, paws up, looking for a belly rub.
While Merry showered, Nick had fixed breakfast—cinnamon Pop Tarts that somehow tasted like nectar of the gods—and when he kissed her goodbye and waved to her with Chula in his arms, Merry had felt as if she were leaving someone she’d been with for years instead of days.
“There’s something you need to know,” Nick said before she left, his eyes a swirling mix of green and gold. “Something—damn it. I don’t want screw this up.”
“What should I know? That you’re amazing and sexy, and you’re going to be here waiting for me when I get back?”
“All of that,” he’d said, but the quick grin he flashed didn’t break through the underlying sobriety of his expression.
Merry’s heart had pounded in her chest, and she blurted the first thought to cross her mind. “Oh, my god. If you’re married, I swear to god—”
“What? No. Why would you even think that? I told you I’ve never been married.”
“Sorry. I’m sorry. You look so serious. You scared me there for a minute,” she’d said, and managed a nervous laugh. Guilt had trickled through her for thinking the worst of him. He had said he’d never married, though of course men lied about that all the time.
“To be clear, there’s no one else in my life. Only you.” Nick took her face in his hands and held her captive with his steady gaze. “I’m not your ex. I won’t ever lie to you.”
He’d punctuated his words with a kiss that still had Merry mentally fanning her face and licking her lips.
She opened her eyes and turned her head toward the narrow window, leaning forward to see around the other woman’s book. White clouds with silvery shadows dotted the endless blue, and an unexpected ray of sunshine stabbed Merry’s eyes and brought quick tears.
She smiled and closed her eyes, replaying Nick’s words.
I won’t ever lie to you.
God help her, she believed him.