Bold (5 page)

“Sooo?” Vic owned the Whispering Salon and had the pulse monitor on all rumors, but she was a friend, a trustworthy friend. Still Tabby didn’t want to air her dirty laundry, especially when her emotions were so close to the surface.

“What?” Her defensive tone didn’t help much.

“Oh honey, you’ll have to tone down the attitude if you want me to believe nothing is wrong. Even Hauk arrowed in on those nasty vibes you’re emanating.”

Damn. “It’s that obvious?”

The light brunette nodded, snapping her gum. “What’s up, sweetheart?”

“I’ve made a decision.” Tabby appreciated the note of confidence in her voice.

“I’m listening.”

“I’m moving on with my life.”

Vic raised one neatly plucked brow. “Which means?”

“Reece. He’s history.” Without being encouraged to say more, she blurted. “He’s just like that damn Adam Collins.” The local playboy and fireman who had put out more hearts on fire than she cared to think about. “Neither one of them is looking for anything other than a quick lay in the hay, and then they’re off having dinner with someone else in less than two hours.”

“Ohhhh…now I see.” The longer Vic stared with those knowing eyes, the faster tears rushed to Tabby’s.

“I have to get out of here.” She spun around, but before she got to the door a hand jutted out and snatched her forearm. Teeth clenched, she raised a fist, ready to throw a right hook, when she noticed it was Jack who held her. She trembled, trying to control the barrage of emotions assailing her from all directions like missiles.

“You okay, baby?”

“She’s fine.”

Now where the hell had Reece come from?

“
I’m
talking to her,” Jack growled.

“And I’m talking to you,” Reece sharply countered.

Tabby rolled her gaze toward the rustic ceiling. “This is just great.” She jerked her arm out of the man’s grasp. “While you two barbarians continue with your pissing contest, I’ll just mosey outside for a little air—alone.”

The second she stepped outside, a cold breeze swirled around her and she shivered. She should have grabbed her sweater. The days were exceptionally warm, but the nights were still chilly. Chalk that up to just another bad decision in a long list of them today. Inhaling the salty ocean air helped to hold on to the reins of her control as she wielded the invisible straps like an expect horseman, mentally pulling back so hard she choked on a sob perched on her tongue. Successfully she held her tears in check, barely.

Yay!
One point for Tabby.

When Vic sashayed through the still open door, she wasn’t surprised. Her friend didn’t say anything, only leaned against the weathered wood siding, her closeness enough to lend support. After about ten minutes, she blew a puff of warm air against the cold night, creating a cloud of white.

“Ready?”

“Yep.” Tabby inhaled, steeling herself for whatever else the night would bring.

Together they walked back into the Seaside Pub. The second Jack saw them he came forward.

“Dance with me?” he said to Tabby.

“I’d love to.”

As he led her onto the dance floor, she resisted the urge to scan the room for Reece. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, it was none of her business—not that it ever had been.

The music played a sweet melody as Jack took her into his arms. She pressed her cheek to his chest, soaking in his warmth and shutting her eyelids to close out the world. That is until she heard Reece’s sultry crooning. She pinched her eyelids tighter, holding on to Jack as if he were an anchor in a rough sea.

The chorus of Keith Whitley’s song “Don’t Close Your Eyes” sent a pang straight to her heart that forced her eyes wide.

God. She loved Reece’s voice. He used to patronize her from time to time, singing to her just to get her to do something she hadn’t wanted to when they were children. As they had grown up, so had his voice. Deep. Sexy. In their teens she had deliberately caused problems or acted out just to hear him sing.

The memories proved too much for her to bear. “Let’s get out of here.” She hated the weak plea, but she wouldn’t stay there and put herself through such torture.

“Sure.” Jack weaved his fingers through hers. Before they left the bar they stopped to retrieve her sweater. They had just slipped outside when Devon called her name.

Pushing her arms through the sleeves of her cardigan, she glanced over her shoulder at him. “What?” she snapped.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he grumbled.

“For a walk.”

“You won’t get far in those useless shoes.”

She whirled around so fast that she nearly lost her balance in those useless shoes. “Cram it, Devon. I’m twenty-one. What I do is my business. Now deal with it.”

The concern burning in her brother’s eyes nearly undid her, but he had to learn she was responsible for her actions. Good or bad. He couldn’t watch over her forever. Feeling like something scraped off the bottom of those useless shoes, she released Jack’s hand and strolled over to Devon.

“I love you, bro, but it’s time to let me go.” Just like she had Reece.

His strained gaze darted to Jack before returning to hers. “I know, but I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Too late—been there, done that, bought the fuckin’ heartbreak T-shirt.

Perched on tiptoes, she eased up and kissed him tenderly on the cheek, whispering, “I’ll be okay,” in his ear.

“Promise me.”

Forcing a smile, she said, “Promise.”

She could feel Devon’s gaze on her back as she returned to Jack.

As they ambled in no particular direction, he asked, “You okay?”

“Honestly? I’ve been better.” She pulled to a stop. “You know, Jack, I’m really sorry, but I think I’ve had enough fun for one night.”

“Will you be around tomorrow?”

“I have a full day of preparing for the festival, but I might drop by the Seaside Pub later in the evening, if you’ll save me a dance.”

“It’s a date.”

Jack slid an arm around her waist and drew her to him. When his mouth captured hers, she expected some spark of chemistry. Maybe not Fourth of July fireworks, but anything other than the numbness he left on her lips, the complete opposite from Reece’s kiss.

Hell. She could still feel the tingles of delight that man had left behind along with his memories. With nothing more to say, she turned and walked away.

It was going to be a long, lonely night.

“Damn, McGrath! What’s wrong with you?” Devon flinched, missing the careless swing of Reece’s hammer. “You’re acting like a bear with a thorn in its paw.”

Reece silently swore. He hit the shutter so hard a chunk of wood and paint fell off. He’d have to remember to patch it later. His mind hadn’t been on what he was doing. Instead, he kept wondering where Tabby was this morning. She had left the bar alone while he’d been singing at Hauk’s last night. He knew that since her friend had returned without her.

“I didn’t sleep well,” he mumbled past the finishing nails squeezed between his teeth and lips. It was as good an excuse as the truth. Surely his friend didn’t want to know that images of his sister naked beneath him had interfered with his slumber.

“Something has been screwing with your head these last couple days. I’ve never had to say this to you, but whatever it is, shake it off.” Out of nowhere Devon smacked his palm against his forehead. “Ah hell, Reece. It’s Lauren, isn’t it? Please don’t tell me you’ve gone and fallen in love?”

Reece nearly swallowed the last two nails in his mouth.

Love?

No. He couldn’t possibly be in love with Tabby. He didn’t even know what love was, but they were friends. Of course, friends didn’t screw friends. He liked Tabby.

Uh. What was he saying? He more than liked Tabby. But love?

“What are you two jabberwocking about?” Harold barked, arms crossed over his barrel chest.

Reece nearly jumped out of his skin. Where the hell had the man come from, or was he so lost in his thoughts he couldn’t see past his nose?

“Our boy has gone and fallen in love.” Devon said the words with a sappy, lovesick tone that really pissed Reece off.

“Fuck you,” he snarled. “The idiot doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

A big grin flashed across Harold’s wrinkled face. “That Tabby, she be quite a catch.”

“Tabby?” Reece and Devon’s voices rose in unison with marked surprise.

“Hell no!” Devon rumbled. “Where the hell would you get a fool idea like that from? We’re talking about Lauren, Brody’s secretary.”

“No. We’re not talking about anyone,” Reece corrected, more confused than ever that this old man could have seen an attraction between Tabby and him when it had taken nearly a lifetime for him to see it.

There was no use fighting it, he did desire the imp. When she had climbed beneath his skin and into his heart he had no idea, but the thought of never being with her again made him physically ill. And no woman had ever made him feel this way. The kicker was he had no idea what to do about the revelation.

“Well then,” Harold paused as if he were mulling over the last few seconds, “You probably should know that our lassie won’t be around today.”

“Damn her. She’s not hanging out with those muscle-bound linebackers, is she?” Devon sneered and Reece’s spine went instantly rigid.

“No,” Harold replied.

When he said no more, Reece ventured out on a limb. “Where is she?”

Something close to laughter danced in the damn man’s weathered eyes. “She be working on the sultan tent and pillows.” Harold pulled several folded papers from his back pocket and opened them. “Tabby sent these over.” He handed the wrinkled papers to Reece.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he breathed.

Tabby had drawn schematics for the shell of the tent, and she’d done an impressive job. He could easily work off of these. Needless to say, he hadn’t put much thought into the framework of the tent and that was so not like him. Just one more thing off kilter in his life since he’d opened his eyes about Tabby.

“The tent panels will be delivered to you by one o’clock or sooner.” Harold scrutinized the cottage with a keen eye. “Doesn’t appear to have taken ye long, thanks to Tabby.”

Reece cringed. If it hadn’t been for Tabby and her friends, they wouldn’t be able to start the sultan booth today. Her plans had saved some time, because what she proposed for the last booth, he and Devon could whip out in less than three hours.

“She has made a difference,” Devon admitted. “The extra help moved us ahead of schedule. The light coat of stucco applied yesterday was dry enough for us to apply the paint. All that’s left is finishing up the small details.”

“That Tabby. She be a jewel. Don’t you agree, McGrath?” The old man’s eyes twinkled and Reece got the damnedest feeling he was gloating.

“Maybe a jewel in the rough,” Devon chuckled, but Harold’s gaze was still pinned on Reece.

He gave Harold a curt nod.

“Well then, if ye lads don’t need anything, I’ll be off.”

When Harold was out of earshot, Devon released a breathy huff. “Can you believe he thought you were in love with Tabby?”

Reece refolded the plans and stuffed them in his utility belt. “Yesterday when you verbally attacked us, you didn’t think it was such a farfetched thought.”

Devon waited until Reece aligned the shutter, before he hammered the first two nails. “Yeah. Well. I let my good senses take a hike.”

Reece seesawed his jaws, carefully holding on to his anger. “Should I be offended you don’t think I’m good enough for your sister?” His gut tightened, waiting for a response.

Devon’s hammer stopped mid-swing. “Hell, Reece. You and I both know you’re not the settling kind. Tabby deserves a family, children. Not someone who is gone more than he’s home.”

Reece couldn’t argue with Devon so he didn’t try. His friend was right. He would be better off just forgetting about Tabby.

The trim and final touches to the cottage were completed by ten o’clock. He was studying Tabby’s drawings when Devon walked up.

“What do you say we catch an early lunch at the Seafarer.”

The Seafarer was a famous East Coast lobster house owned by Katie Wilson-Parker’s folks. Katie was Whispering Cove’s biggest celebrity, a master chef with her own television show, and she was one of Reece’s sister-in-law’s closest acquaintances.

“Sounds good. By the time we clean up and move everything to the other site, the Seafarer should be open.”

As Reece projected, it took about an hour to wipe the site clear of debris and transfer their building materials and tools to the new site where the sultan’s tent would be constructed.

He was pulling off his gloves when Devon said, “Ready?”

Reece nodded.

It was a short walk down the cobble street. Several tables had been placed outside on the sidewalk in preparation for the added customers the festival would attract. The red-and-white-checked tablecloths were new and matched those on the tables outside on the patio overlooking the ocean. The Wilsons usually used white butcher paper as a covering with a can of canyons for their guests. People would scribble whatever messages they deemed appropriate, while waiting for their food. The yearly festival brought about all kinds of changes. Whether the tablecloths would be temporary or stay, he had no idea.

As they neared the restaurant, one of today’s specials filled the air. Hush puppies and sweet, succulent crab drenched in butter or served over a crisp bed of lettuce with a dressing Katie had concocted. The scent of another delicacy baking in the oven rose in the air, stroking Reece’s senses, making his mouth water.

When they stepped inside the rustic, wood-planked restaurant, the place was a chatterbox of women. In the middle of them was Tabby surrounded by strips of material that used to be the high school’s old theater curtains. She hadn’t seen their arrival as she gave directions like a drill sergeant.

Reece was impressed.

He had never seen this side of her. Amazing didn’t quite capture what he thought of her as she directed Mrs. Thomas which two panels to sew together while stopping another elderly woman from putting the wrong fringe on a pillow.

Devon burst out laughing. “Never thought I’d see my sister like this. She actually acts like she knows what she’s doing.”

Tabby must have overheard her brother because she glanced over her shoulder. Her eyes met Reece’s, the link between them immediately broken when she turned away without a glimpse of a smile.

She remained upset with him and who could blame her. Yet for the life of him, he didn’t have the vaguest idea how to breach the distance between them and get things back to how they use to be. He couldn’t help wondering if that would be enough now that they had moved from friendship to something more intimate.

Devon took the lead, walking ahead of Reece, while he chanced another look in Tabby’s direction. She had her stiff back to him.

“Patio or inside?” his friend asked.

“Inside.” Maybe he’d find an opportunity to speak to her. Then again, maybe he should let sleeping dogs lie.

Devon chose a place to sit in the back of the large room containing tables and long benches for bigger parties. A cool, salty and somewhat fishy breeze swept through the area from the open doors of the patio.

Tish Martin, who had worked at the Seafarer for ages, strolled up to them with a broad smile for him. “Hey, Devon. Reece.” The willowy teenager had to be eighteen or at least nearing it. She’d had a horrible crush on Brody, which had transferred over to him after Brody and Andie married.

“Hi, Tish,” Devon said.

“Know what you want?” She fidgeted with the pad of paper she held.

“I’ll take whatever Katie is concocting in the oven.”

“Me too,” Reece added. One could never go wrong choosing Katie’s specials.

“Beers?” Tish grinned.

Devon placed a palm to his chest. “Ahhh…a woman after my own heart.”

She giggled. Her grin broadened at Reece, and then she scooted off.

After an older waitress delivered their drinks, Tish came by with a basket of Italian bread. Reece tore a chunk off and took a bite while his gaze roamed over to where Tabby sat measuring a length of material. Vic walked by and said something to her and she laughed, the melodic sound caressing his ears.

They didn’t have to wait long for their lunch since the crowd was just starting to arrive. He took a bite of the seafood casserole and it melted in his mouth while something crunched as he chewed. Seasoned breadcrumbs he guessed and savored the different textures.

“Katie is amazing.” Devon wolfed down another forkful. “I’d marry her if she wasn’t already hitched to Trent.” Trent Parker was a fireman and one of Brody’s closest friends.

Another round of drinks arrived and both men nodded their thanks since their mouths were full.

“So what’s planned for tonight?” Devon took a long pull from his bottle.

“Dinner with Brody and Andie, and then Hauk’s.” For at least one song.

“Hauk got you good.” Devon guffawed. “First time I’ve ever seen anyone get the best of you.”

No. Someone else had gotten the better of him way more effectively than Hauk. Reece glanced toward where Tabby stood folding a huge panel into squares. What the hell was he going to do about her?

They had finished the last of their beers when Vic joined them. “Tabby wants to know, since you guys are here, if you can take the tent with you?”

“You mean she isn’t going to help us install it?” he asked.

“No. She said, and I quote, ‘The instructions I pinned to each panel even dummies could follow.’ So you boys should be good to go.”

“Ha-ha. Funny, Tabby,” Devon yelled across the room.

She flashed a strained smile and turned away.

Dammit. Reece fumed. She couldn’t just ignore him.

Pushing back his chair, he rose to his feet. Tabby must have heard the scrap against the wooden floor because she hightailed it straight to the bathroom.

Coward.

When he glanced at Vic, her friend and the local hairdresser, she cocked a brow, her eyes simmering accusingly.

Tabby wouldn’t have told Vic about them. But it didn’t take a genius to see something was said to the woman, who spun on the balls of her feet and headed over to where they were still sewing pillows.

Devon looked up at Reece. “That was strange.”

“You’re telling me.” Reece licked his lips. “Maybe we should get those damn curtains and get the hell out of here.”

His conscience mentally poked him in the side. Now who was the coward?

Knock. Knock.

“It’s safe to come out.” Vic’s muffled voice bled through the locked bathroom door.

Feeling twice the fool, Tabby turned the handle and stepped beyond the door. But who could blame her? The second she sensed Reece rising, the need for escape had throbbed in her veins, pounded in her heart.

Concern burned in Vic’s eyes. “You okay?”

No.
But it was “Yes,” she opted to say. “I just had to use the restroom.”

“Yeah. Like I’m going to believe that.” Vic paused. “He’s gone.”

Tabby inhaled a shaky breath. “Thanks.”

“You know you can’t elude him forever.”

“I just need breathing space today.” After waking up depressed and weepy, she was on edge. When this booth was complete, she’d be fine. At least that’s what she kept telling herself. She just needed to keep busy and keep as much distance between her and Reece as possible until she was stronger. “Let’s get back to work.”

They worked until four o’clock, with many people coming up and asking them what they were doing. Strangely, it had been a good marketing ploy to use the Seafarer. Their activities hadn’t only aroused interest in the festival, but for Madame M, the psychic. She came highly recommended by Josie Wells who just happened to stroll into the restaurant at that moment.

The kindergarten teacher’s eyes sparkled as she looked at the progress they had achieved. “Tabby, I can’t believe you accomplished all this. It’s going to be a fantastic festival.” She tucked a strand of her silky blonde hair behind an ear.

“I couldn’t have done it without everyone’s help. Even Mrs. Thomas stepped up to help. And Vic has been a lifesaver.” In more ways then one.

A grin spread across Josie’s face. “So when will we get a sneak peek?”

Tabby fussed with the buttons on a pillow. “If you want to help Vic set up, you can do that right now. I also need someone to string the vines and flowers on the cottage. Oh, and don’t forget the wind chimes.” Yeah. She might be delegating a lot of things she would have done herself, but today she needed her friends—their help and support.