Buck's Landing (A New England Seacoast Romance) (5 page)

At the small ice cream parlor on Ceres Street, she ordered a double scoop of mint chocolate chip and decided to treat herself to a walking tour of Portsmouth on her way to the car. She hadn’t been back to New Hampshire’s port city in a decade, though it seemed little had changed except for a few newer businesses. As she walked, she considered Silas, trying to pinpoint how he’d gotten past her defenses.

She put him at just under six feet, with an athlete’s body and a surfer’s collar-length, shaggy blond waves. His blue-gray eyes were long-lashed, and his smile easy. More than the sum of his parts, though, she thought, pausing to look at a fuchsia dress in a shop window.

It was long, nearly floor-length on the mannequin, and the fabric looked soft and cool where it gathered at the empire waist. A summer vacation dress if ever she’d seen one. Taking a bite of her cone, she looked it over with a critical eye, but the dress invited fantasy. The skirt would flirt with her ankles, play peek-a-boo with her toes. The V-neck and high waistline would emphasize all her best curves. Slim satin straps would show off the rather impressive tan she’d gotten working her off-hours in a tank top all summer.

She tamped down the vision of an appreciative fire in Silas’s eyes. Then she finished her ice cream and walked into the shop.

It was a summer for surprises, she told the cashier who rang up the sale. She hadn’t come to Portsmouth to buy a dress. She hadn’t come to New Hampshire to enjoy herself. She certainly hadn’t come to Hampton to flirt with her next-door neighbor, but Silas hadn’t gotten the memo. Ever since his troublesome cat had arrived at the Landing, he crept into her idle thoughts. His arrogant teasing, his determined flirting, ought to have set her teeth on edge, but she kept returning to how his gaze softened when he looked at her, to the humor in his eyes when he talked to his rebellious pet.

With her wallet lighter and her belly pleasantly heavier, she found her car and headed for the interstate. At the first red light, she rolled down the BMW’s windows and leaned her arm on the door, breathing in the salt and hot pavement scented air. Interstate 95 would bring her back to Hampton in half an hour, but the coastal road would only take fifteen minutes longer.

Halfway down Route 1-A, when the road swung up onto a rocky stretch of cliffs overlooking the sea in Rye, the memory of a forgotten night snuck up on her. The summer she was sixteen, she and Judy had driven up to Jenness State Beach, just for somewhere different to lie on the sand and wallow in Dave Matthews’s voice.

Judy was already seventeen that summer, and had the keys to an ’82 Volvo that maxed out at 45 miles an hour. It wasn’t sexy, but it was a set of wheels. They’d loaded the trunk with Coke and Doritos, beach towels and baby oil. They’d camped out with a CD player boom box, a couple of old bedsheets, and no intention of getting in the water.

The boys who moved their Frisbee game over to get a better look were definitely older, and definitely prep-school boys.

When the disc landed near her feet, she looked up over her Cosmopolitan and did her best to seem worldly.

Behind his Oakleys, the emissary had playful chocolate eyes. “What are you two doing tonight?”

Someone’s parents were away; someone else’s brother was bringing kegs. The address was right on Ocean Boulevard, one of the mansions on the cliff.

They’d gone, walking to the address in their cutoffs and bikini tops, leaving Judy’s station wagon in the state beach parking lot. They’d never found the boys from the beach, but they had found the beer and the shots of cheap vodka. Judy’s older sister had come when they called her from a phone in the house. Hallie had sworn not to tell, but Sofia hadn’t counted on her father.

She’d practically crawled up the stairs to the apartment and fallen through the door.

“Where the hell have you been?” Her father’s eyes were closed, his head lolling on the back on the couch, but his voice was clear and his grip on the bottle was firm.

“A friend’s house.” She couldn’t disguise the slur of alcohol and exhaustion.

“Bullshit, Sofia.” He sucked in a ragged breath and she’d thought for one brilliant moment he was going to care that something might have happened to her. The desire for a good, old-fashioned grounding bloomed in her heart. He rolled his head and opened his eyes, narrowing his bleary gaze on her. “You have the early shift at the register tomorrow.”

She’d pulled herself up and done her best to walk a straight line past her father’s slumped form. 

The memory carried her as far as the point where Ashworth Avenue split off from Ocean Boulevard, which was one-way going north along the boardwalk, but she drove the remaining blocks on autopilot. Swinging the car into the tiny parking lot she shared with her tenants, Sofia ducked into the snack bar to avoid passing the corner window of the Atlantis Market. It was time to get the Landing sold and behind her for good.

~~~

Silas wasn’t waiting for her, but it was hard to miss the European purr of Sofia’s car pulling into the narrow lot behind their buildings. When Sofia herself didn’t appear on her steps, he tuned back in to his sister’s monologue.

“I mean, I understand maybe you burned out at Stern & Lowe.” This was a variation on the same speech she’d been giving him since he’d escaped New York after New Year’s. “But Silas, you don’t need to prove a point to anyone. Dad says Larry Holbein would take you on as a junior partner, or maybe you could work as a public defender if you want to save the world?” She straightened one of the slats on the cheap plastic Venetian blinds. “I’m sure you could sell this … place, and come home. Theo says the store is doing well, I’m sure there’s a market for it.”

“Mal.” Silas couldn’t stop the warning from creeping into his tone.

“Or you could work on Senator Kingston’s campaign.” Her wheels were turning. “I could pull a few strings there.”

“Mallory.” He scooped Houdini up from his seat on the second hand coffee table. “Stop.”

“Stop what? Trying to bring my baby brother to his senses?” She straightened the sofa cushion.

“I like it here. I hated New York. End of discussion.”

She sat on the edge of the ratty sofa, crossing her legs and tapping her toe on the table. “What about when the money runs out?”

“It won’t.” He sat on the table opposite her, setting the gray cat down, and thanking the gods of Danish Modern furniture for their secondhand benevolence.

“How do you know?” Mallory leaned forward, searching for a chink in his armor.

“I’m going to be thirty this fall. I’m not your baby brother anymore.” The bell jingled in the shop below. “Do you hear that? That was income, and that bell jingles all day long. The guy who sold me the place had everything in pristine shape, he was just old and tired. He cashed my check and moved to Myrtle Beach. All I have to do for now is keep doing what works.”

“But what about after the summer?” She cast a woeful eye on the cheap replacement windows. “You aren’t thinking about staying here all winter?”

“Not everyone wants a four bedroom Tudor on a Short Hills cul-de-sac, sis.”

Mallory’s expression shuttered. “What do you want?”

Houdini chose that moment to hop into Mallory’s lap and start purring luxuriously. Silas thanked the little hairball for diffusing the situation. “I want to get a microchip for my escape artist cat. I want to breathe the air here for a while. I want to enjoy myself.”

His sister ran a manicured hand down the kitten’s spine. Houdini flexed his claws.

“I spent New Year’s Eve prepping for a case.” Silas got up and paced the small room. “I left the office at 1 a.m. I rode home in my Brooks Brothers suit and wool coat, on a train full of people celebrating. Kissing, drinking, fighting, laughing. Living, Mal. And I was working.” He stopped and willed her to understand. “I bought the Jeep from a listing in the Want-Ads. I didn’t even look at it first.”

He waited for Mallory to interrupt. When she didn’t, he went on.

“When I called you guys from Mystic, said I was taking some vacation time? I’d already found someone to sublet my apartment. A guy just like me. I hadn’t traveled in five years. My fat salary? Sitting in well-researched investment accounts, where it very likely would have stayed until I met a nice girl and we got married and moved to Westchester.”

Now Mallory’s cheeks colored. “There’s nothing wrong with that life.”

He kept going, afraid she might derail him, even though she was finally listening. “The first time I skipped my every-six-weeks haircut? I took myself out for a beer down the road. I was wearing jeans and a sweater, my hair was a shade too long, and I was happy. Some guys invited me to play darts with them. They didn’t even ask me my name. It was one of the best nights of my adult life.”

“Silas.” Mallory’s tone softened.

“I stopped here because something about the icy beach called to me. I found this place by accident. But it feels right.” He thought of Sofia. He could picture her all wrapped around him on the beach he loved. “And I think I met someone.”

The smug married woman on his sofa snapped to attention. “Someone here?”

“Not exactly. She’s from D.C.” He fought the urge to look out his window toward the Landing. “But she’s in town for a while.”

“I can see you in Washington,” Mallory said. Silas smiled. His sister was nothing if not determined.

“We’ll see.” He kept his voice light.

Mallory stood and wrapped him in a bear hug. She was twelve years older, and for his whole life she’d wanted to be a wife, a mother. She’d been married and rocking Theo to sleep in the starter home she and her husband had bought when Silas was just starting to sprout hair under his arms. Bossing him around was as natural to her as breathing. Silas wasn’t even sure she knew she was doing it.

“I’m still leaving Theo here for the summer to keep an eye on you,” she muttered into his shoulder.

“I love you.” He squeezed her hard. “You’re a nag, but I love you.”

She smacked his chest. “My boy says he hasn’t had a decent meal in weeks. I’m taking you all out for dinner when the shop closes. Where?”

“We close at eleven tonight.” Mallory’s face fell, and he did some quick thinking. “Let me see if I can’t find someone to cover the register for a couple of hours so I can join you.”

“I bet we can get good lobster around here.” Mallory tilted a lampshade true.

Silas chuckled. “The best. Let me walk you to your car.”

He escorted his sister out through the store so she could embarrass Theo. After she kissed her son extravagantly, Silas hugged her, and walked with her across the street to the parking lot for the beach. He couldn’t help sneaking a glance over his shoulder at Sofia’s door. Like the frozen sand in January, something about her called to him, promising heat and pleasure if he stuck around long enough. Something about her felt right.

~~~

Sofia was just about to head down and check on the snack bar and the register when she caught sight of Silas leaving the Market. He had his arm slung around a tall, athletic blonde. She wore her hair in an artfully messy ponytail, but Sofia knew a $200 cut-and-highlight when she saw one. The woman leaned into Silas’s side, her face hidden for the moment. She had a deep, rich laugh; it drifted back on the sea breeze. Silas kissed the woman’s forehead tenderly, and an ache lodged in Sofia’s throat.

She pressed a hand to the glass as Silas walked his blonde companion around to the driver’s side of a high-end SUV. The other woman ruffled Silas’s hair. He closed the car door and patted the hood affectionately as she backed out. Sofia reminded herself of her earlier promise. Her neighbor was undeniably under her skin, but that was no reason to delay her plans to unload the property and return to her hard-won life-in-progress. She didn’t belong in Hampton now anymore than she had when she left.

She arrived in the snack bar to Silas’s easy banter. He was trading a five for a large twist cone. Charlotte was working the ice cream window, and Gavin, whose day off it was, was loitering around. From just outside the staff entrance, Sofia held her silence watching Gavin preen, trying to distract Charlotte, who clearly liked being the focus of Silas’s attention.

“Gavin, you interested in a few hours work?” Silas asked.

The boy squared his shoulders. “Sure. What kind?”

Silas caught a drip of his soft-serve. “I need someone to cover the till at the Atlantis while I let a beautiful woman take me to dinner.” He winked broadly. “Since Charlotte here is working and can’t be my date.”

Charlotte flushed pink. She was newly seventeen, just barely old enough to work the evening shift. Her budding romance with Gavin, also seventeen, was the stuff of teen magazine dreams. Gavin was from nearby Salisbury, Massachusetts, which despite being two towns away, might as well be another planet when school started in the fall. Sofia felt strangely protective of them. Her own teenage years had been balanced so precariously between those youthful infatuations and the immense heartbreak that was her family.

Gavin was nodding at Silas. “I can do that. When do you need me?”

Sofia loitered in the hallway, watching Charlotte watch the men make their arrangements. Silas’s cheerful banter with the teens charmed her, even while she hated the gorgeous blonde in the Lexus who was his actual date. He tipped his sunglasses at Charlotte before taking his leave. Gavin was fast on his heels, but he turned quickly.