Chapter Five
IT WAS NO use. Kurt couldn’t run on the beach without thinking of Leanna. Yesterday morning he thought about her in his arms as he carried her to the beach, and this morning all he could think about was her delicious curves in that obscenely small bathing suit. She’d forgotten her clothes when she left yesterday evening and he’d washed them last night, then spent two hours debating taking them over to her. Every minute he spent thinking about her was a minute he wasn’t thinking about his writing. And that, it turned out, was a major problem. He’d stayed up until two o’clock in the morning writing what he should have written while she’d been there in that itsy-bitsy bikini—and in the hours afterward when he couldn’t concentrate.
He jogged up the beach access road and ran the rest of the way home on the hot pavement to try to refocus on Dark Times instead of Leanna. By the time he returned home, he was drenched in sweat and only moderately more focused. He showered, ate breakfast, skimmed the newspaper, and checked his email. While refilling his coffee cup, he eyed Leanna’s shirt and shorts, folded neatly on the counter. He doubted she’d even miss them. She didn’t seem like the type of woman who worried about where she’d left her things, given that she’d left his house without shoes the first night. Neither of them had remembered to put her bike into her van, either.
He fought the urge to drive them over to her now. He couldn’t afford any more distractions. He had to focus on his writing. On his way out to the deck, he glanced at the basket she’d given him and smiled.
You really are sweet.
He opened the apricot-lime jam and tore off a hunk of bread. Inside the basket he found a plastic knife, which, given Leanna’s propensity for forgetting, struck him as quite thoughtful. He layered the thick jam on the bread and sank his teeth into it.
“Mm.” He closed his eyes and savored the sweet, tangy flavor. He finished that helping and made himself another. He’d never tasted anything like it. The bread was fresh and also a little sweet. He took the basket inside before he devoured the whole loaf.
A few hours later, with the afternoon sun high in the sky and his fictional victim safely tucked away in the cellar of the villain’s secret hideaway, Kurt closed his laptop and stretched his legs. He’d written a fair amount and chewed on the idea of bringing Leanna her clothes at the flea market. He should write more. Another four or five hours and he would be comfortably ahead of schedule.
A few days ago this would not have been debatable. He’d stretch, freshen his ice water, and return to the keyboard inspired and ready to write for hours.
A few days ago he hadn’t known Leanna.
Now he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Kurt took a quick shower, threw on a pair of khaki shorts and a short-sleeved, button-down linen shirt, and headed toward the flea market. His cell phone rang as he pulled onto the main road. He clicked his Bluetooth button and answered his sister’s call.
“Hi, Siena. How are you?”
“Hey, Kurt. I’m great. You? How’s the Cape?”
“Perfect.” Almost.
“Are you doing anything other than writing, or do I need to come out there and drag you down to the beach? It would be a hardship to spend time at the Cape and all, but if you need me to…”
Siena was a model in New York City, and he pictured her wide smile and bright blue eyes with a glint of tease in them. Siena and her twin, Dex, were Kurt’s youngest siblings. He’d always felt protective of them, but not in the same way as his brothers Jack or Sage had. They had no issue prying into their siblings’ lives or forming an intervention of some type—gathering all the siblings together to take a stance—and giving their two cents. Kurt preferred to remain in the background, and when he took issue with something, he’d talk with his siblings privately. Siena, on the other hand, took far too much pleasure in prying into all of her brothers’ lives.
“Actually, I’m on my way to the flea market right now.”
Siena gasped. “No.”
“Yup.” He smiled, because he knew she wouldn’t believe him. He left his keyboard only under duress. She’d had to bug him for seven weeks before he’d agreed to go on the blind date with her friend, and then he’d accepted only to shut her up. “Listen.” He clicked off his Bluetooth and held his phone up in the air, then brought it back to his ear. “I’ve even got the top down.”
“Holy cow, Kurt. Are you sick? Have you lost your mind? What will your poor laptop do without you there pounding away at it?” She laughed.
Kurt smiled. It was just the reaction he’d expected.
“I’m actually calling about Jack’s wedding. Do you need me to do anything for you here in New York? Do you have your suit? Are you coming straight from the Cape, or are you going home first?”
Kurt lived just outside of New York City, and when he summered on the Cape, Siena often took care of things for him back home. “Thanks, sis, but I’m going straight from here. I’ve got my suit, and my flight arrangements are all set. I land in Colorado the night before the wedding.”
“Perfect. Are you really going to a flea market? That’s so unlike you.”
“Yes, I really am. Hey, listen. I’m pulling in, so I have to run. How are you?”
She sighed. “Good, although dating is a nightmare in this town.”
Siena was bossy, noisy, and gorgeous, but she also had a softer, more vulnerable side.
“Don’t stress over men, sis. You’ll find the right one soon enough.”
“Let’s focus on finding you the right woman. I’m going to start advertising for a woman who can drag a six-foot-something man around by his ear. Once I find her, I’ll send her your way.”
He thought of Leanna and almost told Siena about her, but he didn’t want to deal with the litany of questions that would surely follow. “You do that,” he teased. Siena had been saying the same thing for five years. He knew he was safe from her doing any such thing. Despite the blind date a few weeks back, Siena had been all talk. “Love you, sis.”
He ended the call and pulled onto the grounds of the Wellfleet Drive-In. There were only about two dozen cars in the parking lot, and when he glanced at the clock, he realized it was already four. Each parking place had a metal pole with a speaker attached, which were used to hear the movie playing at the drive-in theater. Kurt had never watched a movie at the drive-in. He parked by the snack bar, and as he stepped from the car, Leanna came into view. He wondered what it would be like to go to the drive-in theater with her. Actually, he’d like to go anywhere dark with her.
A banner hanging from the front of her table read LUSCIOUS LEANNA’S SWEET TREATS in red letters on a white background. She was talking with a young guy in the next booth as Kurt approached. Pepper began barking and running toward him, but he was tethered to the table by a long white rope. The jars on the table collided.
Leanna flipped her hair over her shoulder with one sharp turn of her head. “Peppe—” Her eyes widened. “Kurt.”
Pepper clawed at his legs. Kurt narrowed his eyes at him. “Sit.”
Pepper sat on his butt, wagging his tail.
“What are you doing here?” Leanna asked. She glanced back at the young guy in the tank top she’d been talking with.
Kurt sized him up as he loaded crates full of records into his old orange van. Handsome. Well built. Looking at Leanna like she’s the main course. He nodded in greeting to the guy, then handed Leanna her clothes.
“You left these at my place, so I thought I’d bring them over.” Now he had the guy in the next booth’s full attention.
“I did? Oh gosh. I’m sorry.” She put the clothes in her van and began packing the jars into insulated coolers.
“I’m not.” Kurt felt the guy’s eyes on him.
She stopped packing and met his gaze. “But you brought them all the way here and you could be writing.”
“You look familiar. Are you that thriller writer?” the guy from the other booth asked.
“Oh gosh. Carey, this is Kurt. Kurt, Carey.” Leanna continued packing the jars as she spoke.
Kurt held out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”
The guy’s eyes lit up. “Cool. I read all your books.”
“Great. Hope you enjoy them.” And keep your eyes off of Leanna.
“Yeah, they’re really good.” His eyes darted between Leanna and Kurt.
Pepper began whining and pulling against the rope again. Kurt caught two jars as they fell from the table.
“Sit,” he said to Pepper.
Pepper obeyed with another whimper.
“Good catch.” Leanna came around the table and reached for the jars.
Kurt trapped her finger beneath his, and when she looked up at him, his pulse sped up. She was breathing hard, and he could see the strap of her dark bikini beneath her tank top, and the image of her in the itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny bikini sent heat right through him.
“So, Leanna, are we still on for the beach?” Carey asked.
She looked at Kurt and trapped her lower lip between her teeth.
On for the beach? Come on, you’re dating this guy? He glanced at Carey’s beaten-up old van parked behind Leanna’s van. I’m a complete idiot. He released Leanna’s fingers.
“Um.” She looked up at Kurt again with an oh-no look in her eyes.
“Hey, don’t let me interrupt. I just wanted to bring you your clothes.” He nodded at Carey, then forced a smile for Leanna. “I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah. I guess,” she said.
He turned to walk away, feeling like a complete jackass. Of course a woman like her would go out with a young, free-spirited guy with similar interests. What was he thinking? What would a woman like Luscious Leanna see in a man who spent hours behind a keyboard, found the ocean sticky, and rarely left the house? Pepper barked and barked. He whimpered and whined, and Kurt kept walking.
There he was getting excited just thinking about taking her to a stupid drive-in movie when he should have been writing. He shook his head. What the devil was wrong with him?
He tried to block out Pepper’s incessant barking. A loud crash—glass shattering against pavement—broke through his thoughts. He turned as Pepper arrived beside him, barking, clawing at his legs. With his eyes, he followed the trail of rope hanging from Pepper’s collar to Leanna, standing among several broken bottles of jam, her legs splattered with red goo.
Kurt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Walk away. Just get in the car and leave. Carey had staked claim to Leanna, and she obviously was interested in him. Kurt should climb into his car, drive away from there, and go write. Wasting time was not on his agenda. He had no business walking to the men’s room and filling his hands with wet paper towels. He shouldn’t have made a beeline for her, or gotten down on one knee to wipe off the jam from her lean, sexy legs. She wasn’t his to take care of, and Carey was right there beside her. But Carey was busy taking down his own booth, and other than handing Leanna a towel, he was doing nothing to help her—and that pissed off Kurt. He didn’t deserve Leanna. What type of man didn’t help a woman in a situation like this? Kurt wasn’t working on what he should or shouldn’t do. He was driven by something stronger—something he hadn’t ever felt before—the desire to be someplace other than in front of his beloved keyboard. He wanted to be right there, helping Leanna.
He picked up Pepper and put him in the van with a sharp, “Stay.”
“I’m okay. It’s okay. Really. Go write. I’m a total time suck,” Leanna said.
She had a sliver of a cut along the top of her right foot, and he knew she could handle a few broken jars—although the thought of Leanna with a broom and broken glass scared the life out of him. She’d be fine without him, but darn it, he wanted to handle it with her. For her.
“I’ve got this.” He borrowed a broom and dustpan from the snack bar manager and arranged to have buckets of water brought out to clear the sticky jam from the area.
Half an hour later, he returned the push broom and other supplies he’d borrowed, and Leanna’s booth was clean, her van full.
“So? Off to the beach?” Carey flashed a smile and ran his hand through his hair.
Leanna met Kurt’s gaze. The sun was slowly descending, and it cast a soft light along her hair, highlighting nearly blond natural highlights in her brown hair that he had somehow missed yesterday. Her skin glistened from her efforts, her tank top hung off of one shoulder, wet between her breasts from sweat, and her short, white cotton skirt was speckled with red jam. She looked like the most adorable hot mess he’d ever seen, and Pepper stuck his head out of the van window, panting happily, as if he hadn’t just caused the mess.
Kurt touched the edge of her skirt and tsked. “Make a paste with baking soda; soak those spots and then wash it. That’ll come out.”
Leanna tilted her head. “How do you know that?”
“I looked it up on the Internet last night before I washed your shorts. I didn’t think you wanted red handprints on your butt forever.” He nodded at Carey. “Have fun at the beach.” Lucky bastard.
As he walked away, he felt the heat of Leanna’s stare on his back, and while it brought a smile to his lips, it wasn’t nearly enough.