Chapter Ten
To Do:
Paint rooms
Fly kite with Sabrina
Get eye drops
Pain, horror, misery! With a screech, she bolted into the kitchen, knocking over the burglar, and ricocheting off the table, groping for the sink. Her face was on fire. Her eyeballs were going to melt.
“What the hell are you doing?” demanded the burglar from behind her.
Pete? What was Pete doing in the kitchen this time of night?
“You could have broken my hip.”
“Never mind your hip. My eyes,” Jenna cried, fumbling for the faucet.
Pete turned it on and shoved her head underneath the water. “Of all the dumb things to do.”
First, he’d scared the snot out of her, now he was practically drowning her. She shoved his hand away, and positioned her eyes under the cool water. Misery, torture.
“You shouldn’t have that stuff if you don’t know how to use it,” he scolded.
“I never had to use it. And I was scared. What are you doing in here, anyway?”
He shoved something into her field of vision. Through the curtain of water it looked like a jar of mayonnaise. “I was making a sandwich.”
“At eleven at night?”
“I got hungry. So sue me.”
“How did you even get in?”
“I have a key.”
Were her eyes ever going to stop burning? She rubbed them and whimpered.
“Water alone isn’t gonna do it,” Pete said. “Hold out your hand.” Jenna held out her hand and he squirted dish soap into it. “You gotta wash out the oils.”
Jenna soaped up her eyes and let out a screech.
“Keep washing,” he instructed.
“How do you know this, anyway?” He was probably simply trying to torture her, the old goat.
“I demonstrated in the sixties.”
Never mind his political beliefs. “What were you doing with a key to the house?”
“Your aunt gave me one,” he replied, sounding offended. “In case she fell or something.”
“Or in case you get the munchies in the middle of the night?” Talk about taking advantage.
“I earn my keep,” he muttered.
Yes, she’d seen how he’d earned his keep before she arrived. She held out her hand again. “You don’t need a key anymore. I’m here.”
“You don’t own this place yet.”
“Pete, give me the key. You’re not going to be coming in at all hours scaring the tar out of us.” It was hard to look authoritative when you had your head stuck under a faucet.
He stood there for a moment, then finally slapped the key in her hand. “I’m gonna talk to your aunt,” he threatened.
“So am I,” she shot back.
From outside a siren sounded. “Did you call the cops?” he demanded.
“No.”
“Well, they’re here,” he snapped, and to prove it there was a banging on the front door.
“Give me a towel,” Jenna demanded.
“Get one yourself,” he said, leaving Jenna to fumble for a kitchen towel and stomping off toward the back door. He opened it to find a police officer standing there.
The officer was short and husky with a receding hairline and a bulbous nose, and he looked about as intimidating as a mushroom. “Put your hands on your head and step back,” he said.
Rule follower that she was, Jenna obeyed immediately.
“Not you, miss,” said the cop. “I can tell you’re not a perp.”
“I’m not a perp,” Pete growled as he put up his hands. “I live here.”
The banging on the front door continued and the officer lifted his shoulder and spoke to it.
“I’ll go let your partner in,” Jenna said, and hurried down the hall, wiping at her stinging eyes as she went.
The officer at the front door was much better looking than his partner, probably thirtysomething, with sandy-colored hair and hazel eyes. He wasn’t much taller than his partner but he sure filled out his uniform well.
He took in Jenna’s pink Old Navy camisole and her sleep shorts and blushed. “Are you all right, ma’am?” he asked as she let him in.
“Yes, I’m fine. I didn’t call the police.”
The officer nodded. “I know. Your sister did. She said she was on the phone with you when you had an intruder.”
“My intruder turned out to be our handyman,” Jenna said, leading him down the hall. “I’m so sorry we bothered you.”
“No bother. That’s what we’re here for.”
He had a nice, rumbly voice. She hadn’t seen a ring on his finger. For such a small, sleepy town there sure seemed to be plenty of single men around.
“Will you tell him I’m not a burglar?” Pete demanded when she returned to the kitchen with her police escort. He was still standing in the middle of the room with his hands up and looking none too happy about it.
“He’s not,” Jenna said as she wiped her poor watering eyes. “This is our handyman. I didn’t know he had a key to the house.”
The short officer looked him up and down. “Where did you get the key, sir?”
“Edie gave it to me,” Pete snarled.
The officer frowned and nodded.
“I’m sorry we bothered you,” Jenna added. “This was all a big misunderstanding. I was on the phone with my sister and made the mistake of telling her I heard a noise.”
“It’s better to be safe than sorry,” said Officer Mushroom.
“Says who?” Pete demanded.
She walked the two officers to the door and thanked them for coming.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” asked the tall one.
She would be after she’d poured another ten gallons of water over her face. She wiped at her eyes. “I’m fine. I just accidentally sprayed myself with pepper spray.”
“Keep washing your eyes,” advised Officer Mushroom.
She nodded and opened the door.
“And call us anytime,” he added as they walked out. “We’re not busy.”
That was comforting. She didn’t think she’d want to live in a community where the police were busy all the time. She waved goodbye to the officers, then went back to the kitchen to deal with Pete. She found him putting together a bologna sandwich.
His cheeks turned russet under her disgusted gaze, but he braved it out, calmly returning the mayo and bologna to the fridge. Then he picked up his sandwich and started for the door. “I could have had a heart attack, you know.”
They should be so lucky. “Well, you didn’t. You’ll live to mooch off my aunt another day,” she retorted.
“You should talk,” he shot back, and left, slamming the door behind him.
“Hey, I’m family,” she called after him. “What’s your excuse?”
No response.
“Bon appétit,” she muttered, and stuck her head under the faucet again.
The next morning, she had a little talk with Aunt Edie before Sabrina came down and before Pete the mooch showed up, and explained what had happened.
“Oh, my! I didn’t hear a thing,” Aunt Edie said. “I took out my hearing aids and was dead to the world.”
“If he had been a burglar, you could have been dead, period,” Jenna scolded.
Aunt Edie waved that concern away. “Nonsense. Pete wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
“That’s not the point,” said Jenna. “We can’t be giving out house keys right and left. And why does Pete need a key?”
“In case of emergency,” Aunt Edie said.
“Was that his suggestion?” Jenna probed.
Her aunt got suddenly very busy making coffee.
“So, it was.”
“I was in perfect agreement. We’ve become good friends and we’ve been helping each other.”
It appeared the one getting most of the help had been Pete. If there was one thing Jenna was becoming an expert on, it was men who were users.
“And it made sense for him to have a key. I was here alone.”
Guilt popped up and bit Jenna in the behind. “I know,” she said, and moved to put an arm around her aunt. “But I’m here now, so he doesn’t need a key anymore. Besides, he takes advantage of you. Do you know that I caught him making himself a sandwich? He already eats three meals a day thanks to your generosity and does practically nothing to earn them, plus he’s got a room he’s not paying rent for.”
“With no furniture in it,” Aunt Edie pointed out.
“Beggars can’t be choosers. Besides, I walked by the other day when his room door was open and saw he’s put an army cot in there. So he’s fine. And really, considering how little he does around here he should be grateful he even gets a bare room.”
The subject of their conversation walked into the kitchen at that moment. Of course, Aunt Edie had already unlocked the back door for him.
He scowled at Jenna. “Did she tell you she called the cops on me last night?” he said to Aunt Edie.
“Call the cops,” suggested Jolly Roger, who was stationed at his kitchen perch.
“I thought you were a burglar,” Jenna said. And her eyes were still smarting from the experience.
“A burglar who turns on the light?” Pete scoffed.
“How do I know what burglars do? Anyway, it was Celeste who called the cops.”
Aunt Edie’s brows shot up. “Your sister?”
“I was texting her and told her I heard a noise. She panicked.” And she hadn’t been the only one. Thank God Sabrina, who would sleep through an earthquake, had missed the whole thing. She’d have been terrified.
“I almost got arrested,” Pete continued, looking accusingly at Jenna.
“Well, I got pepper spray in my eyes, so let’s call it even.”
“She took my key,” Pete tattled.
Jenna spoke before her aunt could cave and insist on giving back the key along with free access to the fridge. “She knows. We’ve talked about this. It’s just not good to have keys out there all over the place.”
Pete’s eyebrows dipped. “I’m not all over the place. And I’ve been here with your aunt, watching over her and—”
“I know. And I do appreciate that,” Jenna added, trying for some level of diplomacy. “But really, Pete, it’s best that only the family have keys. Anyway, the door’s unlocked all day long. It’s only locked after we turn in for the night. Surely there’s no reason you need to be in here in the middle of the night, right? I mean, what reason could you possibly have?” Other than to gobble up more food you didn’t pay for.
He frowned and grunted, but dropped the subject when Aunt Edie said, “Poached eggs for breakfast.”
“That sounds good,” he said, and plunked himself down at the table as if he belonged there.
Maybe, after all this time, he did. But not in the middle of the night.
“Now, what’s on the agenda for today?” Aunt Edie asked, obviously determined to steer them away from any further conversation about the night before.
“We need to start painting the rooms,” Jenna said, and Pete scowled.
“Well, I think I’ll make some beach sandies,” said Aunt Edie. “Your favorite,” she added, smiling at him.
Sure, reward his bad behavior. Honestly, it was a good thing Aunt Edie never had kids.
The promise of his favorite cookie coaxed a smile from Pete, and by the time they were done eating, he was almost in a cheerful mood.
Until Jenna stood and said, “We’d better get to work. Come on, Pete. If Sabrina wants she can help you make cookies,” Jenna said to Aunt Edie. “Tell her if she comes help paint we’ll fly her kite this afternoon.”
It would mean an afternoon of work lost, but mother-daughter bonding time gained. It was a good trade-off. No, better than good.
Sabrina did show up to help and worked hard, and Jenna was happy to reward her. They hit the beach after lunch.
They had just assembled her kite when Seth Waters came walking up the beach. He was barefoot, in jeans and a gray T-shirt, and he looked like a cover model on his way to a shoot.
“Great. Now you’re gonna stand around and talk,” Sabrina grumbled.
“Be nice,” Jenna said, and waved at him.
“Your aunt said you were out here. I just came to check and see if you wanted some help painting.”
“Actually, we’ve quit for the day. We’re taking the afternoon off to play. Aren’t we, Sabrina?”
Sabrina nodded. “Can we start?”
“Sure,” Jenna said, and handed over the kite.
Sabrina took it and began to run down the beach. She failed to catch the breeze and the kite trailed after her halfheartedly.
“First time?” Seth asked.
“Yes. I guess I should have given her a little more instruction. It’s been too many years since I’ve done this.”
Sabrina came back. “This kite is lame.”
“Here.” Seth took the kite from her hands. “You hold the string.”
Sabrina’s brows knit. “He’s walking off with my kite.”
“He’s going to help you launch it,” Jenna told her.
“Okay, I’m gonna let go,” he called. “Tighten your string a little when I do.”
He let go and the wind caught the kite, taking it into the air. The octopus on it began to dip and bow with the currents, the kite tail dancing.
Sabrina concentrated on keeping the string tight, her top teeth clamped on her mouth.
“All right. You’ve got liftoff,” Jenna said to her.
“Now what do I do?”
“You can unspool the string and let it go higher. Keep your back to the wind.”
Sabrina smiled. “It’s so pretty!”
So was her daughter, with the wind blowing her hair, her eyes shining with the joy of a new experience. Jenna pulled her phone from her pocket and snapped a picture.
Seth was back with them now. “Here, let me get one of both of you.”
Sabrina was busy concentrating on keeping her kite in the air, so Jenna stepped next to her and smiled.
“Nice,” he said, and handed the phone back.
She checked out the picture. Yes, it was nice. They both looked relaxed and happy. Caption this A good day at the beach.
“Who knew you were an expert at kite flying,” Jenna said to him as Sabrina worked on becoming one with the wind and the octopus.
“I used to like to fly kites as a kid.” He watched Sabrina and smiled. “Being out here brings back good memories.”
Something in his voice made her wonder if he’d racked up some not so good memories since then, but she refrained from asking him. He wouldn’t appreciate it.
“If you don’t need me, I think I’ll go work on drumming up some business,” he said.
She kind of hated to see him go, but the man did have a life. “Maybe you could help me Monday afternoon?” A few hours painting together would be the perfect opportunity to get to know her new handyman better. Okay, to be nosy.
“Sure,” he said. “See you around.”
She watched him walk away. The man had a beautiful butt. So, maybe she liked to see him go, after all.
Kite flying followed by a cookie break left her daughter in a happy mood, which put Jenna in a good mood, as well. Sabrina’s mood wasn’t quite so happy when Jenna started getting ready to go out with Brody.
“I don’t see why you have to go out,” she muttered. “You don’t spend any time with me.”
Oh, boy. Guilt trip time. “Oh my gosh, was that your clone I was out with this afternoon?” Jenna asked in mock horror.
“Funny, Mom,” Sabrina said sourly. “You’re going out to have fun and leaving me here.”
“To have pot pie and play Monopoly with Aunt Edie.”
“I don’t need a babysitter,” said Princess Thundercloud.
“No, you don’t. But she needs company. She’s been lonely down here. Maybe you haven’t noticed how much she’s enjoying having you helping her in the kitchen.”
“Yeah,” Sabrina said with a half shrug.
“And she’s looking forward to you spending some time with her tonight.”
Sabrina pursed her lips. “I guess I could do that.”
Jenna rewarded her with a smile and a kiss. “Good.”
“What are we going to do tomorrow?” she asked when Jenna went back to putting on her mascara.
“Church, for starters.”
“Yuck,” Sabrina said, falling against the doorjamb. “Those kids are mean.”
“They can’t all be mean.” Well, maybe they could. “We’ll do something fun after church. I think Tyrella’s going to have us over for dinner.”
“She doesn’t have any kids,” Sabrina grumped.
“Yes, but Mrs. Singleton has a granddaughter your age and she’ll be down here soon.”
“She’s probably mean.”
Ah, yes, the glass was half-empty.
* * *
“How’s it going?” Brody asked as he drove Jenna to Sandy’s.
“I’m loving it. My daughter, not so much.”
“Kids adapt,” he said.
“Do they? I wonder.”
It seemed like most of her life there’d been a daddy-shaped hole in her heart no one could really fill. Although heaven knew the grandpas and Uncle Ralph had done a good job of taking up a lot of space. And what about Sabrina? What was going to fill that hole that Damien had left when he chucked them for the Disney princess with the big boobs?
“They do,” said Brody. “My kids turned out fine. They come down here with all their friends, windsurf, tear around on mopeds, party and eat me out of house and home. Hit me up for money.”
“And then leave again. Don’t you miss them when they’re gone?”
“Are you nuts? My place is a madhouse when they’re here. Love it when they come, love it when they go.” He smiled at Jenna. “Don’t worry. Your girl’s going to be fine.”
She hoped so.
They pulled up in front of the restaurant. “Come on, let’s go in and wash away your worries with some wine. You need to try their coconut shrimp. It’s the best.”
By the time she’d sipped some wine and eaten some coconut shrimp and let Brody regale her with tales of life at the beach she was feeling much better.
“Of course,” he concluded after his last story, “no one ever let poor Bruce live down the fact that he’d spent all that money on clam guns and shovels and the bucket and collecting net and then forgot to get boots. We nicknamed him Mud Man.”
Jenna giggled and had some more wine. It was her second glass and she was definitely getting giggly. Was it her imagination or did she have trouble holding her liquor?
After wine, coconut shrimp, followed by prime rib and baked potatoes the size of small boats, she was feeling stuffed. But Brody convinced her she had to try the coconut cream pie.
“I’ll split it with you,” he said.
One bite and she pulled the plate away. “Sorry. It’s too good. I can’t share.”
“I figured as much,” he said, and signaled the waitress for another piece.
By the time they left, though, she was wishing she had shared. “I shouldn’t have been such a pig,” she groaned. “I’m going to explode.”
“Please wait till you get home. I don’t want a mess in my car,” he teased.
But he didn’t take her right home. Instead, he drove out onto the beach where they watched the waves throw themselves onto the sand and the sky start to turn rosy as summer twilight turned to sunset.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said, laying her head back against the seat.
“So are you,” he murmured.
She turned her head and smiled at him. “My ex found someone prettier.”
“I can’t even imagine.” He smiled and leaned in, and the next thing she knew, he was kissing her.
It had been way too long since someone kissed her with such...appreciation, and for a moment, she lapped it up like a cat, letting him have at it and threading her hands through all that beach-boy blond hair.
But then she came to her senses and pulled away. “This is not a good idea.”
“Really? I thought it was a great idea.”
“Brody Green, I’ve got you figured out. You’re the playboy of Moonlight Harbor.”
He pouted. “You wound me.”
“Oh? You take in even more territory?”
“I’m not a shallow ladies’ man.”
“You may not be shallow,” Jenna conceded, “but it doesn’t matter because I’m not in the market. Remember?”
“You don’t want to be alone all your life,” he told her.
“Maybe not. But I do want to be alone for the next year. Well, not alone,” she amended. It was nice going out to dinner with someone with a low voice and different body parts. It was nice to be wanted. “Just not involved.”
“You’re right. I’m a shit,” Brody said, moving back behind the wheel. “You’re still reeling from your divorce. The wound’s still fresh. I remember that feeling.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah. I went through a phase, believe me. Every woman was a user.” He shrugged. “Sometimes I wonder if there’s really not some truth to that. Present company excepted,” he quickly added. “A lot of the ones I met were. I don’t want to be somebody’s ticket to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.”
Yep, there’d be no hitting Brody up for a loan.
He smiled at Jenna. “You’re different, Jenna. There’s something so...honest and vulnerable about you. You’re like a movie heroine trying to make a go of something that doesn’t want to go.”
“I will make a go of that place,” she said as much to herself as him.
“I hope you can,” he said, and started the car.
Back home she gave him a smile and a heartfelt thank-you for a nice time. And her phone number. (“Not that I don’t mind stopping by, but it would be handy to have,” he’d said.)
But no kiss. One had been one too many. Kisses on a beach at twilight were how a woman lost all perspective. Not to mention control.
Would she ever lose control with a man again?
Maybe in her dreams.
She came dangerously close when Seth Waters invaded those dreams. There she was, bobbing happily on the water in a little dinghy, and a giant pirate ship pulled up next to her. He stood at the bow of the boat, his feet firmly planted, his chest bare and glistening. He’d grown his hair and it hung under his pirate hat in dark dreadlocks. He’d grown a moustache, too, and he looked like Johnny Depp’s Jack Sparrow from all those Pirates of the Caribbean movies she’d loved to watch when she was a sweet, young (horny) thing.
“Come with me,” he said in that deep voice of his, and held out a hand to her. “We’ll sail off to the Caribbean and make love on the beach.”
How could she resist? She let him pull her up onto the boat and against his broad—oh, baby!—chest. “I’ve wanted you ever since I first saw you,” he whispered in her ear.
“Well, here I am,” she told him.
“Just a minute!” She turned and saw Brody Green striding toward them. He, too, was dressed like a pirate. Only, unlike Seth, his clothes were clean. “She’s already kissed me,” he informed Seth.
“Poor her,” Seth sneered.
Brody grabbed her arm and pulled her away. “Come with me. I’ve got more money.”
“I’ve got more sex appeal,” shot back Seth, taking the other arm and pulling.
“I’ve got a sore arm,” she protested.
Neither man listened. In fact, they became so intent on fighting over her that she got shoved aside. The next thing she knew she was pitching overboard and falling. Here came the waters, which had gone from sparkling blue to inky black. And what was that rising from the waves? Some sort of giant squid, wearing a T-shirt that said Damien.
And it could talk. “Oh, boy. Dinner!”
Jenna awoke with a yelp.
She pushed her hair out of her face and shook her head. “Dream on,” she told herself. “We’re not going there.”
Brody and Seth and the squid would have to carry on without her because she was sticking to her no-man vow.
She settled back down into the pillows. Still...where were those two pirates? Could she find them again?