Chapter Five

 

Despite all the growth in nearby towns, North Salem remained on the smaller side and clung to its small town traditions. It was one of the main reasons Brett had picked it last year when he’d decided to buy a home in Massachusetts. At the same time, it was close enough to larger cities for when he found himself in need of a night at a ball game or a concert. After making the drive into Boston and then back home all week, he was reconsidering his decision. He’d tried leaving his house at different times each morning, and it didn’t seem to help. The only thing it seemed to change was where he hit the majority of traffic. If he didn’t win the election and stayed working for Homeland Security, he might need to get a second place in Boston, because the commute every day would drive him insane. He honestly didn’t know how other people did it. Until November though, he’d suck it up and deal. It didn’t make any sense to make changes until after he knew whether or not he’d be heading to DC.

Brett took the exit for Salem and checked his watch. Nineteen—Brett stopped before he finished the thought. Regardless of where he found himself in six months, he needed to get back in the habit of using civilian time. “Seven o’clock. Damn,” he said.

They’d agreed to meet at seven. He’d have to call Jen and let her know he was running behind. He already felt bad enough she’d driven up tonight. He’d tried to change her mind, but she’d refused to budge. She’d insisted it was her turn to make the trip since he’d come down to Rhode Island twice already. Although he’d disagreed, especially since he’d visited his family as well as her during his first trip, he’d stopped trying to change her mind pretty quickly. Her stubbornness rivaled his own, and that was saying a lot.

Brett pressed the phone icon on the car’s touch screen. “Call Jen,” he said as he turned right and approached a yellow traffic light. The sound of a ringing phone came though the car speakers. After a few rings, Jen’s voice replaced it.

“Sorry, I’m still about ten minutes out,” he said after greeting her.

“No problem. I just got here. Do you want me to let them know I’m here so we don’t lose our table?”

He doubted they’d have a problem getting seated no matter when they arrived. For better or worse, his picture had been plastered on every New England news channel and newspaper this week. One look at him and the restaurant staff would know exactly who he was and what family he belonged to. He didn’t share his thoughts. Despite knowing who he was, Jen treated him like any other man, something his week had been lacking so far. He didn’t want to say or do anything to change her behavior. “Sounds like a good idea. Go ahead and order a drink if you want to. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

When Jen had insisted on coming up, he’d called his buddy Sean and asked for some nearby recommendations. While Boston boasted plenty of four- and five-star restaurants, driving in the city could be difficult and parking expensive. He didn’t want to make Jen’s trip any more inconvenient or costly. He knew she’d never accept an offer to pay for her parking. She wasn’t that kind of woman.

Sean had come back with three suggestions. One had been right in North Salem, but it would’ve added at least twenty minutes to her drive, so he’d dismissed it right away. He’d checked the other two out before settling on Turin. He’d learned at some point that Italian was Jen’s favorite food. Turin specialized in Italian and offered free onsite parking, something not all the restaurants in Salem had.

Brett picked the empty spot next to Jen’s car. He managed to get halfway across the parking lot before his cell phone rang. The device had rung more in the past week than it had in the past year. A quick glance at the screen confirmed what he already knew; the caller was Carl. When he’d hired the man, Carl had joked he should just move into Brett’s house since they’d be spending so much time together. He’d thought the guy was exaggerating, but after all the phone calls and lunch meetings they’d had this week alone, Brett realized how true the statement had been. It would probably only get worse the closer they got to the primary in November.

“Hi Carl,” Brett said. “Now’s not the best time. Can it wait until tomorrow?”

“I’ll be quick tonight.”

Carl’s understanding of the word quick and his were worlds apart. A fact he’d learned this week when a “quick” lunch meeting turned into a two-hour affair.

“I just got word Ted Smith is on the November ballot. He turned his nomination papers in late this afternoon.”

They’d already assumed the former lieutenant governor would be his main competition for the party nomination. In his mind, this news didn’t change the strategy they’d developed. “Thanks for letting me know. Any other important updates?”

Brett stopped in front of the restaurant entrance. Any discussion they needed to have, he’d prefer to do it outside. Once he sat down, he wanted to devote his attention to Jen, not his campaign manager or the upcoming election.

“Not at the moment.”

Thank you. Brett pulled open the door and stepped inside. “We’ll talk later.”

He shoved the device back into his pocket as he crossed the waiting area. Several people sat waiting for a table. Most were paying more attention to their electronic devices than each other or anyone else coming inside.

The hostess recognized him before he greeted her. He couldn’t recall it ever happening to him before unless he’d been accompanied by one of his cousins. Even then it was his cousins people recognized, not him. “Mr. Sherbrooke, welcome to Turin. I’ve already seated your guest.”

Brett forced a smile. Better get used to this. The first of his campaign television ads was scheduled to launch Monday. Once they did, his face would be even more recognizable. “Excellent. Thank you.”

He followed the hostess through the candlelit dining room. As expected for a Friday night, all the tables were occupied. In here at least most of the people were having conversations with each other instead of texting away on their cell phones or checking their e-mails.

“Here we are, Mr. Sherbrooke.” The hostess stopped at a table designed for two.

At the sound of the woman’s voice, Jen looked up from her cell phone and a welcoming smile spread across her face. She didn’t hesitate to put the device down.

Even though the hostess stood there, he walked around the table and brushed his lips across Jen’s cheek before taking his seat.

“Ann will be taking care of you this evening. She’ll be right over.” The hostess handed Brett a menu before walking away.

Jen’s menu remained closed on the table alongside an untouched glass of white wine.

“Sorry again for being late.”

“Don’t worry about it. Was traffic bad tonight?” she asked. “I definitely hit a little leaving the city.”

“Horrendous. The worst it’s been all week. I should’ve left earlier.”

“Getting out of Providence on a Friday is always worse than the rest of the week too, especially this time of year. It gets a little better in the winter when people aren’t trying to go away for the weekend. Sometimes I work late to avoid it. I imagine it’s even worse in Boston.” She reached for her menu and opened it. “I haven’t decided on a meal yet. Do you recommend anything?”

Brett watched the candlelight dance across her face, more interested in that than what entrees the menu contained. “This is my first time here. I asked a friend for some recommendations and decided on here because it specializes in Italian. We can check out the other ones he suggested another time.” He opened his menu but didn’t look at what was listed inside.

“You remembered Italian is my favorite. Why am I not surprised?” She gifted him with another smile. “I peeked at the menu when I first sat down. Everything sounds amazing. I don’t know how I’m going to decide.”

“I think you should go with lasagna or baked stuffed shells,” Brett said remembering well their conversation at Ambrosia about her dislike of ricotta cheese.

Jen looked up from the menu. “Since I know you’re joking, I’m going to forget you even said that.” She went back to reading the dishes available. “What are you considering?”

You. He wisely kept the thought to himself and finally glanced at his open menu. “No idea. I’ve had lasagna and fettuccini alfredo already this week. Carl’s favorite restaurant is in the North End. We’ve met there twice for lunch.”

“You should’ve made a reservation somewhere else tonight. I do enjoy other types of food.”

“Why? Italian is one of my favorites too. And it’s not like there aren’t plenty of options on the menu.”

Neither spoke again as they read over the dishes available and placed their orders. Only when the waitress left did Jen start a conversation.

“How was your first week at Homeland?” she asked.

“Different.”

“Different good or different bad?”

Brett thought for a moment. He’d both enjoyed and disliked the hours he’d spent at his new job. “Both. I’m not used to sitting behind a desk so much. I guess I’ll get used to it.”

“It’s not for everyone. Keith would go nuts in a chair all day.”

He agreed. Her brother would start climbing the walls if stuck in an office.

“Any updates on the—”

Brett saw the man walking their way but didn’t think anything of it until he stopped a few inches from their table. “Sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to introduce myself. City councilman Jeff Murphy,” he said, cutting Jen off midsentence. He extended his hand toward Brett and continued, “I represent Salem’s third ward. I’m also the chairman for the community and economic development subcommittee.”

He’d hoped to leave politics at home, but it looked like that had been an unrealistic expectation tonight. “Nice to meet you.” He shook the councilman’s hand. “Brett Sherbrooke.”

The man actually chuckled when Brett introduced himself. He interpreted the reaction to mean it’d been not only an unnecessary move but, at least in the councilman’s eyes, a silly one.

Unsure of how Jen would want to be introduced to the unwelcome visitor, he said, “And this is my friend Jennifer.”

“Very nice to meet you too,” the councilman extended his hand in Jen’s direction. After shaking Jen’s hand, he turned his full attention back to Brett. “I want you to know you have my full support in the primary.” The councilman opened his wallet and pulled out a crisp white business card. “Don’t hesitate to contact me if I can help you in any way.”

This might be his first trip into politics, but he knew help from other politicians often came with strings attached. “Thank you for your support. I appreciate it.” How many times had he read or heard Uncle Warren say that during his various campaigns? “I’ll keep you in mind.” He took the business card and dropped it into his shirt pocket.

The councilman smiled and nodded. “Enjoy your evening. Turin is one of our city’s finest establishments. My wife and I are frequent visitors.”

Brett watched the man walk away and rejoin a woman seated across the dining room. “I apologize for that too,” he said. “Tonight isn’t starting off well.”

Jen reached for his hand. “You had about as much control over his visit as you did the traffic tonight. No need to apologize.” She tilted her head in the councilman’s general direction. “Before our unexpected visitor showed up, I was going to ask how the campaign is going.”

They’d discussed the campaign a bit during their phone calls this week, but he’d made a conscious effort not to bore her with all the details. “Going as planned so far. I’ve got two town hall forums this week. One is Tuesday out in Amherst and the other is Wednesday in Boston. Thursday I have a meet and greet down in Westport.” Brett proceeded to fill her in on the rest of his upcoming week.

 

Just hearing him list all the meetings and interviews filling his calendar made her tired. “So basically you have something scheduled for every day next week,” she said after the waitress set down their main dishes. “How are you going to manage all that and work?”

“Creative scheduling as well as a lot of late nights and early mornings.” He placed his napkin on his lap and picked up his fork. “This looks amazing. If it tastes as good as it looks, I’ll have to thank Sean for telling me about this restaurant.”

Jen followed his lead and picked up her fork as well. She agreed, the osso buco she’d ordered looked and smelled divine. “And when do you plan on sleeping?”

“After I win the election.” He sounded a little too serious for her peace of mind.

“I’m not joking.” She sliced a corner off her braised veal shank and waited for his reply.

Brett’s hand paused with his fork almost to his mouth. “I wasn’t either. You’d be surprised how little sleep a body can get by on.”

Jen understood and respected his ambition, but no one could keep up the pace he was facing and stay healthy. “Brett, everyone needs some downtime. And I don’t mean just sleep. Some time to relax and unwind is important too.” She put her fork down because dinner could wait. This was a serious discussion. “You’re no different. I think you need to take a step back for a minute. Perhaps consider taking a leave of absence from Homeland. I think they’d understand considering the circumstances.”

His expression became grim, and he stopped eating. “Carl made a similar suggestion over lunch yesterday. I’ll keep it in mind.”

He sounded sincere, but for some reason she got the impression he was simply telling her what she wanted to hear. “Promise?”

Brett nodded, but she wasn’t quite ready to let him off the hook. In many ways, Brett was like her dad and brother. They were all stubborn men who did things their way no matter anyone’s opinion.

“Do you pinkie promise?”

Bella had asked her the same thing Sunday. Before Jen left with Bo, Bella had made her pinkie promise to let the dog stay with her again soon.

“A pinkie promise sounds serious.” His hand slipped over hers. “And not something I’d enter into with just anyone.” A grin broke free and overtook his features. “But I’ll do it for you.”

Jen raised the pinkie finger on her free hand and held it toward him. When he merely reached for his fork again, she said, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“I don’t think so.”

She wiggled her finger in the air, assuming he’d catch on.

“Something wrong with your finger?” he asked instead.

She thought she caught a twinkle of laughter in his eyes, but at the same time it might only be the candle flame playing tricks on her. “A proper pinkie promise entails joining our fingers. Now let’s see your finger, unless you didn’t mean what you said.”

Brett met her demand and linked his finger with hers. “In case you hadn’t already figured this out, I always mean what I say.”

His words sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. His voice told her he wasn’t referring to just his promise to consider taking a leave from his job until after the election.

***

Jen took a third bite of her dessert and pushed the plate away. “This is amazing, but I can’t eat another bite.” She shouldn’t have ordered dessert in the first place. Her dinner had more than filled her up. When the waitress brought the tray over, her sweet tooth had taken over and prompted her to order the limoncello panna cotta with wild blueberry glaze despite her better judgment.

Across the table, Brett’s dessert was already more than half gone. Exactly where he managed to put all the food was a mystery. Unlike her, he’d finished his main meal before indulging in the large chocolate torte he ordered.

“Any ideas of how you’d like to spend the rest of the night?” Brett asked, his fork already heading for his plate and the last piece of his dessert.

“If it was a little earlier and I had on more comfortable shoes, I’d say walk around the city. This is my first time to Salem.” She’d come straight from work. Although she wasn’t wearing heels—she rarely did—the sling-back flats she had one were not designed for long, leisurely strolls.

“First? You’ve never come up at Halloween time?”

“Nope. Until I moved to Rhode Island ten years ago, I didn’t spend much time in New England. When I did come, it was usually at Christmas to see my grandparents.”

Brett signed the bill their waitress handed him. “This October we’ll have to rectify that. Salem embraces Halloween like no other place I know. All set?”

Come October he’d be neck-deep in his campaign. Finding time for them to meet and visit the city might be out of the question. While she recognized this, she kept it to herself. “Similar to the way New Orleans celebrates Mardi Gras?” she asked, pushing her chair back.

“I don’t think any city or town in the country embraces a holiday the way New Orleans does when it comes to Mardi Gras.” He put his arm around her waist and started toward the exit. “Experienced it once, and that was enough for me. Halloween in Salem, though, I could do again.”

He filled her in on the events he’d seen on his one visit to Salem during October. From the sound of it, the city used the infamous witch trials held centuries ago and the hauntings associated with them to its advantage. Even if they didn’t make it back in October together, perhaps she’d recruit Kristen and spend a day up here. Her sister was always up for a little exploring, and they hadn’t had a girls’ day out together in months.

“Walking is out for the night. Anything else you want to do?” Brett stopped next to her car.

Nothing came to mind, especially not still wearing the wraparound rayon dress she’d worn to work. She hated to see the evening end though. Brett had a ridiculously busy week ahead of him, so who knew when he might have time to see her again.

“Sorry, no, not dressed like this.” She gestured toward her outfit. “You?”

The lights in the parking lot made it impossible to miss the way Brett’s gaze left her face and roamed over her figure. He took a step closer, and the air between them danced with excitement. “I don’t live far from here. Come to my house. We can watch a movie, talk, whatever.” Brett ran a finger down her jaw and across her bottom lip, and her heart jerked against her rib cage.

She had a good idea of what the “whatever” might encompass. If it were any other man standing there and asking her back to his place after only technically two dates, she’d be jumping in her car and leaving him in the dust. Brett she knew perhaps better than any other man she’d ever dated. “I’ll follow you.”

Brett’s car turned onto a street named Fender Drive. Although several businesses lined the street, including a grocery store and an automotive garage, the area radiated a small town vibe. As they passed through an intersection, the streetlights provided enough illumination for her to see the large town common. The streetlights ended though when Brett turned left. Now the only light came from the homes lining the street and her car’s headlights.

In front of her, Brett stopped and turned. Jen waited until Brett pulled into his garage before turning into the driveway. The colonial-style home resembled many of the homes in her neighborhood, only this one looked to be much older. Actually, all the homes they’d passed on the street looked on the older side, and she wouldn’t be surprised to find some had historical markers on the front.

Jen pushed open the car door as Brett approached. The sensor light attached to the garage made it possible to see the frown he wore. “What’s wrong?” Had he noticed a problem with the house? Even small towns experienced break-ins and vandalism.

He tilted his head in the direction of the car door. “I was going to get it for you.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to.”

She closed the door and added her keys to her purse. “Next time.” She looked around the front yard, her gaze stopping on the large front porch. “I love porches like that,” she said. “One of the houses I lived in growing up had one. I used to sit outside and read out there even when it rained. Sometimes in the summer we’d eat breakfast out there on the weekends.”

Brett’s arm wrapped around her waist. Together they walked up the driveway and into the two-car garage. “We’ll have to do that sometime.” He pressed the control panel on the wall to close the garage door and unlocked the interior door.

Jen expected to walk into a kitchen. Most homes, hers included, seemed to have a door in the kitchen that led directly into the garage. However, she hadn’t expected to walk into an empty kitchen. The only evidence someone lived there was the overly complicated looking coffee maker on the counter. There was no kitchen table or chairs. The counters gleamed as if recently washed. There wasn’t a single item in the sink, not even a dirty spoon. No matter how hard she tried, she always seemed to find a stray utensil or empty glass in her kitchen sink. The glass doors on the cabinets above the counter revealed that most were empty. Only the one closest to the stove contained any dishes. The cabinet doors below the counter weren’t glass, so she didn’t know what was behind those, but if she opened them she didn’t think she’d find anything.

“I thought your things arrived?” she asked.

“They did, and I finished unpacking.” He led her through the spotless kitchen and into another room. “Make yourself at home.” He left her side long enough to turn on more lights.

Although not as empty as the kitchen, this room didn’t contain much furniture either. “Did they leave some of it in Virginia?”

The leather sofa looked comfortable and high-end. Definitely not something he’d picked up at a discount furniture store. However, it and the large square coffee table were the only things in the room, unless you counted the huge flat-screen television mounted over the fireplace. The room could easily accommodate a few armchairs and an end table or two.

“Nope. I didn’t have a lot, just the essentials.”

“You consider a sixty-five-inch television more essential than a kitchen table?” she asked, guessing at the size of the television. At home she had a forty-inch mounted on the wall, and Brett’s was much larger than it.

He took the remote from the coffee table and switched on the obnoxiously large device mounted on the wall. “Affirmative. A movie or football game on anything smaller is a waste of time.”

Only a man would consider a television more important than a table. “You sound like my brother.”

He brought up his movie collection. “I’ll prove it to you. Pick anything you want.” Brett gestured with the remote. “But don’t worry, I’ll get around to buying more furniture, including a kitchen table. My sister offered, but we have different tastes.”

She wondered what else the house was lacking. If she walked into his bedroom, would she find a sleeping bag on the floor? “Okay, if you say so. You’re the one who has to stand up while he eats breakfast, not me.”

Jen didn’t wait for him, instead she sat down on the sofa. “Let’s test your opinion. What movies do we have to pick from?”

He sat down too, his thigh rubbing against hers, and put an arm across her shoulders. “Take a look and pick whatever you want.” He handed her the remote and then undid the top two buttons on his shirt.

She scrolled through the various movies, not at all surprised by what she found. Except for horror films, they liked all the same kind of movies. She’d never understood the appeal of horror movies or even books. What was so entertaining about being scared to death? She’d watched a few in college and then spent several nights sleeping with her dorm room light on and jumping at every single sound.

“I’ve got two in mind. Do you prefer A New Hope or the first Lord of the Rings?”

The fabric of his pants rubbed against her thigh, pulling her gaze to his long legs as he stretched them out. Many of the men she’d dated in the past had either been her height, or in one instance slightly shorter. She found it nice to be with someone taller than her for a change.

“Whichever will keep you here longer.” His breath drifted over her skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind before he kissed her cheek.

“We could always watch both.” She turned her head and met his eyes, the desire she saw in them kicking up the sensual excitement already humming inside her.

His gaze dropped to her lips before meeting her eyes again. “If it keeps you here all night, we can do that.” Brett touched her lips with his. It was the gentlest kiss she’d ever had, yet her pulse quickened and unimaginable wanting ran through her.

No one was expecting her at home, not even her dog. Before she drove to Salem, she’d stopped home to let Bo out and feed him. Since Kristen lived only a few miles away, she’d promised to visit after the family finished dinner. If Jen wasn’t home yet she’d take him back to her house. There was nothing to stop her from spending the whole night here.

She pulled her mouth away so she could speak. “Or we could find another way to entertain ourselves.”

Jen caught the spark in his eyes before she kissed the side of his neck. She made a path across his skin until her lips closed around his earlobe; then she gently raked her teeth across it. Brett’s soft groan reached her ears moments before he untied the knot on the side of her dress and pushed the material open. When his hand touched her bare skin, she sucked in a deep breath. She’d barely managed to exhale, when he cupped her breast and at the same time set his lips against hers.