Crazy About You (2 page)

“Hey, howzzit going?” the stranger said on his way into the bar. His accent gave him away as a New Yorker.

A whirlwind of random thoughts spun through Chase’s brain like a bad mix of the 80’s pop song lyrics he’d been subjected to for the past few weeks at sea.
Is she really going out with him? How long has this been going on? What does she see in him?
But above all, he could hear Madonna singing an old refrain,
Who’s that girl?

Todd cleared his throat. “Are we going in or not? I thought you said you were buying?”

Reaching into his pocket, Chase extracted his wallet and slapped a twenty in Todd’s hand. “I’ll be there in a minute. I need to check on something.”

Todd laughed and swung the pub door open. “Something or someone?”

“Both.” Chase walked away. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to follow the blonde into the gift shop, but it was something he had to do. He needed to talk to her, start a conversation, to somehow acknowledge the way she made his pulse pound, and figure out why. He was a scientist, after all, and none of this made any kind of logical sense.

Vaguely he registered the lettering on the plate glass window as he pushed open the door,
Baubles and Beads, Serving All Your Jewelry Needs
.

The blonde chatted in low tones with the older woman behind the counter, both faces set in serious lines. “I’m sorry you feel that way.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Ultimately, it’s my decision.”

The shopkeeper waved her hands in the air, not bothering to lower her voice. “Don’t mess with the mob. Why is that so difficult to understand? You’ll get yourself killed if you hang out with gangsters.”

What have I walked into? What does the mafia have to do with jewelry stores or this blonde?
Chase wished he could disappear before they saw him, but the tinkling bells over the door announced his entrance.

“May I help you, sir?”

He pasted an apologetic smile on his face while his mind raced for an excuse. “Actually, I’m looking for a men’s room.”

The shopkeeper pointed to a sign posted by the door, one that stated clearly in words and pictures,
No public restrooms
. “Board of Health won’t allow it, sorry. Public facilities are around the block, by the bus stop.”

“Thanks anyway,” he mumbled and quickly made his exit.
Gangsters on Cape Cod?
He must not have heard the women correctly. Or perhaps he misunderstood. Either way, best to forget the whole incident, the blonde included.

Except…

When she’d turned, he’d seen her eyes up close and personal without the designer shades. Now it felt like those turquoise blue pools were etched into his soul. How could he ever forget those eyes—that face? He needed to find out more about this woman.

Maybe Todd was right
. Maybe there are more important things in the world than worrying about climate change.

****

Emma Maguire’s heart raced, even as the door swung shut. It felt like all the air whooshed out of the shop the moment her eyes locked with that stranger. “Mom, do you know him?”

“I’m sure he’s a tourist. They seem to get bolder as the summer goes on. I mean, who looks for a restroom in a gift shop? Really?”

“Sounds like you’re sick of tourists and it’s not even Carnival yet.” Emma’s eyes lingered on the door in case he came back while her mind spun out of control.
Why is my pulse racing? I have no idea who he is, but it feels like I’ve known him forever. Except I don’t know his name, of course, or anything about him…

“I’m not
sick of tourists
, as you say. Just the pushy ones. Did he look familiar? Maybe he followed you from New York! Is he here to whack that boyfriend of yours?”

Emma planted her hands on her hips and glared across the counter, thoughts of the sexy stranger forgotten. “How many times do I have to tell you? Tony isn’t my
boyfriend
, he’s just a friend. And he’s not a mobster! He’s a salesman. There will be no ‘whacking’ around here, today or any other day!”

“What does he sell?”

“Corporate insurance.”

“Insurance is like protection, am I wrong?” Her mother shrugged. “But what do I know. I’m a silly old woman who wants her impetuous daughter to be happy, not mixed up with the
Goodfellas
crowd. Honestly, Em. Sometimes you need to stop and think all the way through these decisions of yours. Moving in with the Godfather is never a good idea.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “I’m not having this conversation with you. Yes, Tony Lenzi is Italian. Yes, he’s from New York City. That doesn’t make him a cast member from
The Sopranos
or any of those other gangster movies
.
Honestly, Mom, you watch too much cable television! If you can’t calm yourself down and be nice to him, we’ll head back to the city instead of spending my vacation week here with you.”

“Emma, that’s not fair. It’s such a treat to have you visit! We only ever get to see you at Christmas, and even then you never stick around town very long. It can’t still be about Daniel.”

Emma’s back stiffened at the name of her ex. Her mother seemed about to add something more when her cell phone rang. “Wait a minute, Em. Let me get that. It’s your father’s ringtone.”

“We’re done here. I’m sorry you can’t let it go, but I’m not changing my mind. I already scheduled movers for the weekend.” She turned and marched toward the door.

“Wait a minute, sweetie. Can’t we talk about this?” The ringing phone punctuated her pleading words.

“Answer Dad’s call. I’ll talk to you when we’re back in New York. After the move.” Emma let the door swing shut, steeling herself to not look back. Her mother was being unreasonable about the whole Tony thing. They both needed time to cool off and think about things.

After all, it’s not like she was a kid. Twenty-five was old enough to make her own decisions. If she wanted to move into Tony’s apartment it was her choice to make, not her mother’s. Maybe, at first, she’d thought of him as potential dating material, but they’d settled into a comfortable friendship when she realized she wasn’t his type. She wasn’t Italian, she wasn’t Catholic…

…
and I definitely have the wrong body parts under my skirt
, she thought with a smirk. But that wasn’t a reason to turn down the offer of his spare bedroom.

Her roommate’s upcoming wedding left Emma scrambling to find a replacement. The end of August loomed large on the calendar and still no good leads. She couldn’t afford her current apartment alone, even with the new job in the mayor’s office. And damned if she came crawling home to her parents. Her brother Sean moved home to regroup a few years back and got stuck here in Provincetown, working for their father. No way would that happen to her.

Her cell phone buzzed in her skirt pocket.
What now?
Head down, squinting to read the text message in the bright sunshine, she didn’t notice the shadow hovering in the shade of the pub’s awning until she crashed straight into a solid wall of muscle. Two cell phones flew from jostled hands, both smacking at the edge of the sidewalk. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going!”

In the midst of her babbling apology, he turned to face her, staring at her with eyes the color of a stormy ocean. She fell silent, lost in the swirls of grey, adrift in their depths. His breath seemed to hitch. “You.”

Chapter Two

Emma found her voice. “Do I know you?” Blinking a few times to clear her head, she gave a quick once-over to the solid wall of man she’d slammed up against. Deeply tanned face with just a hint of dark scruff along the jaw, cargo pants, and weathered denim shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows. He gave the impression of someone who spent a lot of time on the water, much like her dad and brother. A surprised smile lifted the corners of his sensual mouth. Little tingles ran up her spine as her eyes zeroed in on those lips, and a little voice in her head whispered,
He’s the one.

She shook it off. “Are you a friend of Sean’s?”

Her words broke the spell of the moment. He looked at his empty hand, then scanned the sidewalk. She spotted his shattered screen seconds before he did, stooping to grab it from the curb. He reached for it at the same time, knocking his head against hers. She lost her balance, one knee scraping the sidewalk before she planted the heel of her hand to keep from sprawling.

Emma rubbed her forehead and winced at the sore spot, and the situation. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated. “I’ll pay for that.” Where was her phone? There—in the gutter. It looked intact but the screen was black, text message gone.

He offered her a hand up. “It’s okay. Happens to me all the time, so Christine insisted I get the full protection package.”

“Full protection, huh?”
How’d he make a phone plan sound like an innuendo?
She grabbed both phones before taking his hand and getting to her feet. Her gaze traveled up the line of his strong, angular jaw, bristling with dark stubble. Tilting her head she looked up into those stormy grey eyes and felt her insides melt into a pool of liquid need.
Snap out of it! It’s not like you’ve never seen a cute guy before!

“I’m afraid I’m a repeat offender when it comes to torturing cell phones. Kind of notorious for it.” The twinkle in his eye filled her stomach with another parade of butterflies.

“Well, I’m sorry nonetheless.” She stared, unsure what else to say but unable to tear her eyes from his.

“Who’s Sean? Your boyfriend in the pub?”

His question threw her off-guard. “Sean’s my big brother. I thought you were one of his fishing buddies.”

“I’m not, but I wish I was.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because then I’d have a good excuse to be here with you.”

“Well, you’re doing a good job of talking to me right now.” She smiled at him and nodded to the door of the pub. “Were you headed inside? The least I can do is pay for your meal.”

“You want to buy me lunch?”

“You know, because I broke your screen.” She backtracked quickly, remembering he’d mentioned a woman. “I wasn’t hitting on you, honest. Don’t want to make waves with your wife or anything.”

He frowned. “I’m not married.”

“Christine?”

“The department secretary. She fills out the paperwork every time I break or lose equipment. Like my cell phone.” He chuckled. “I get so focused on work that minor details fall through the cracks.”

Single? How is that even possible?
Those swirling grey eyes looked so intense she couldn’t imagine any details escaping his scrutiny, or falling through the cracks. Another tingle ran up her spine. She took a deep breath to steady her jumping pulse. “I take it you’re new around here.”

He nodded. “Just arrived this morning. We were supposed to catch the noon tide on a boat, but the captain was delayed.”

“From?”

“His crew took ill.”

“No, I mean where are you arriving from?”

“Oh, of course. New York City.”

She tilted her head to the side, considering. “That’s a six hour drive. You must be tired.” Emma was well aware of the distance, having made the same trip the previous day with Tony.
Tony.
Waiting for her inside the pub. “Well, again, sorry about breaking your phone. I should be getting back to my friend inside.” She moved to pass him and enter the pub, but he grabbed her elbow. His hand felt warm and rough against her bare skin, the gentle touch raising goosebumps along her arm.

“Wait… Is, um, your phone okay?”

She shrugged, trying to act cool and collected in spite of her overblown reaction to his slightest touch. His hand was on her elbow, for goodness sake, not her breast. Although now that image raced through her head, making her long for more.
Snap out of it, Emma!
“I’m sure it’s fine. Probably needs a reboot or something. No worries.”

The door behind them swung open and Tony emerged, a frown etched on his face. He stared at the hand wrapped around her arm. “Hey, babe. Is this
stunad
bothering you?”

“I’m fine.” A dull throbbing pulsed on her forehead, where she’d collided with the stranger’s head. Absently she rubbed at the spot. “I’m the one who ran into
him
and broke his cell phone.”

Tony’s frown deepened. He pulled a folded wad of bills from his pocket and peeled off the top few. “What can I say? She’s a klutz. This should take care of the damage. No need to involve the police.”

The cute stranger released his grip but waved off the cash. “No, no, that’s really not necessary.”

Tony stepped up and stuffed the bills into the chest pocket of the man’s denim shirt. “For your troubles.” He grabbed Emma’s hand and started walking. “Let’s get outta here. It’s all fried food on the menu. We can grab something less greasy on our way back to the City.”

She looked over her shoulder, struggling to keep up with Tony’s long stride. The stranger stood staring after them, his mouth hanging slightly ajar, Tony’s cash poking out from his shirt pocket.
I never found out his name.

****

In a daze, Chase stood there as the pretty blonde walked down the sidewalk and out of his life. He probed the lump forming on his forehead where the two collided. He didn’t think the bump on his head had anything to do with his impaired communication skills. He was an idiot, pure and simple. Why hadn’t he asked her name? Instead he’d babbled about the protection plan on his cell phone. As if anyone cared.
Idiot.

“Chase, dude. What’re you doing?”

He turned and found his intern standing on the sidewalk behind him, hands on hips, a puzzled expression on his face.

“And what’s all this?” Todd pulled the wad of bills from Chase’s shirt pocket. “Whoa, there’s a hundred bucks here!”

For a moment, he couldn’t recall how the folded bills got into his pocket. “He didn’t want me to call the police.”

“Who?” Todd shook his head. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, dude. I thought you were going to talk with that hot chick and then join me at the bar. What happened?”

“Nothing.” Suddenly a beer sounded even more appealing. Like it might help him forget the pain in his temple, or the sudden ache in his heart for a woman he didn’t even know. “I dropped my cell and it cracked.”