Last Chance Harbor (33 page)

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Authors: Vickie McKeehan

BOOK: Last Chance Harbor
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He kissed the top of her hair, nibbled down her jaw to her neck. “No.”

“Then I say we make the most of today.”  

He rolled, reversed their positions. “Just so you know I’m more than okay right here.”

“And just so
you
know, I’m stronger than I look. I’ll keep you where I can take advantage of you. Don’t exert yourself. Save your strength. Because you’re going to need it.”

“Same goes.”

 

 

When they finally
crawled out of bed, they had to get creative to scrounge up something for breakfast.

Julianne made use of her last three eggs and the last drop of milk to scramble up an omelet.

Because Ryder had scouted her kitchen the night before, he made himself to home and started coffee.

Over their first cup, the phone rang again.

While listening to the caller on the other end, she mouthed the words, “It’s Jordan wanting to know if I’m alive.”

“I’m sorry,” Julianne finally said aloud into the receiver. “I didn’t mean to make you worry. I should’ve found you at the dance and explained that I had decided to spend Saturday night back home in Santa Cruz. I appreciate the concern. No, no, really, I’m fine. Thanks for caring enough to make sure that I wasn’t in a ditch between here and there.”

When she hung up, she turned to Ryder. “I don’t think I fooled her for a second.”

He chuckled into his mug of caffeine. “Probably not. Are you worried about your rep because you’re the school principal?”

“Not really. I haven’t even started the job yet. And…well…my private life is my own.”

Pleased to hear that, he said, “Have you ever thought about opening up a resale shop in town in one of those empty buildings along Main?”

“But I love being around the kids.”

He shook his head. “I’m not saying give it up. Rent one of those old empty spaces, stock it with your inventory, pay someone to run it during the nine months you’re principal. With jobs so scarce it shouldn’t be that hard to find a willing employee.”

She sat back, sipped her brew. “That’s not a bad idea. It might be a way to add to my second income, which I might point out, will be sorely missed if being principal takes up most of my time. What about you? I’m not trying to needle you but when do you plan to take your idea to Nick?”

“Monday. That reminds me I need to make a few changes to my business plan. You know, I’ll need to get back to the farm for the evening milking.”

“We could work on the proposal for Nick here.”

“I don’t have my laptop.”

“We’ll make notes the old-fashioned way. Let’s do the dishes and get started that way you can transfer everything to your computer file, print out the hard copy before morning.”

It continued to rain throughout the morning as they put on music and absorbed themselves with all the right buzzwords to impress a banker about Ryder’s acumen, as well as Zach’s and Troy’s.

In between putting together the game plan for the boatbuilding venture, she tossed every wilted vegetable she had on hand—potatoes, carrots, celery, spring beans—into a soup pot to simmer for lunch.

“Whatever it is you’re cooking, it smells delicious.”

“Nothing like having soup on a rainy day.”

He leaned against the doorframe and watched her mince garlic, strip fresh rosemary and chop basil to dump into the pot.

“Where did you learn to cook?” 

“Between Pop and Danny’s mother those two taught me all I needed to know about putting together a meal on a tight budget.”

“Tell me about Danny.”

“You want to hear about Danny? Now? Today?”

“You don’t say much about him. While I’ve gone on, ad nauseam about ‘what’s her face’ to the point that I’m sick of hearing myself talk.”

She continued to dice up leeks as she talked. “Danny was a gentle soul. That’s not to say he didn’t show his temper when the situation warranted one because he did. And he could be stubborn to the point that I wanted to knock some sense into his head. That’s what put him on the road where he was killed. You see, we used to love going to junk yards, exploring old second-hand shops for just about everything we had on hand. He’d pick up old car parts he could use in his garage while I’d find some old table or chair I couldn’t live without. But that day I had to study for exams. I was working on my Master’s at the time. I begged him not to go. Call it a second sense or a premonition or whatever but I wanted him to stay and fix a leaky faucet in our apartment. But he went running out the door anyway to pick up some stupid special carburetor for a Mustang he’d been refurbishing for a friend.” The knife in her hand stilled as she bit her lip, fought back tears. “Danny didn’t make it back.”

Ryder came up behind her, wrapped her up, and kneaded her breasts through her shirt. He grated his teeth along the underside of her ear. “You know what I’ve always liked to do on a rainy day?”

She relaxed against him and breathed out, “What?”

“I like to take a leisurely bath, especially if I don’t have to do it alone.”

She turned into him, buried her face in his chest.

He scooped her up, carried her to the bathroom, dropped her on her feet to turn on the tap to let the water run. She began to pour in bubble bath. To get the perfect balance of froth and fragrance, she dabbled with two different bottles before getting it just right.

They took turns undressing each other. As eager as they’d been the night before, this was an unhurried, seductive intimacy born of a lazy afternoon. It was a time to share secrets, discover mysteries.

His eyes took in her slender waist, the curve of hips and breasts until he reached for her to feast on her mouth.

Ryder stepped into the steamy foam first, took her hand to help her over the rim. The smell of coconut and vanilla had them easing down into the velvety bubbles together. Their bodies hummed with want as she settled against him, surrendering to the moment.

His hands roved along her slick skin, nudged her legs apart. The brush of his tongue along her neck brought delightful quivers. His lips skimming flesh created quakes that went on and on. He turned her in his arms to join, to mate. She straddled him, locked her legs around his waist, her hands around his head. Sinking together, the water rose and swished back and forth as they floated through their own swells. Then it was all lust, a rush, a race to reach the torrent. Greed flooded them. The finish came in a burst, a tsunami of tremors and triumph.

He labored to catch his breath, rested his forehead on hers. “I can’t get enough of you.”

“For someone who hasn’t done that in a while, you don’t seem out of practice,” a breathless Julianne noted. “This was a grand idea.”

“I was inspired.” He ran a hand down her cheek. “You have to check out of the B&B and I have to get back to the farm. I hate to say this, but it’s about time we left our little nest.”

“I know.”

 

 

During the downpour
, Troy and Zach helped take down the vendor tents. But it was Troy who spotted John Dickinson loading the leftover odds and ends of furniture belonging to Julianne into the back of his truck.

“Need some help?” Troy asked.

“Thanks, I wouldn’t turn down an extra pair of hands,” John said.

“Where’s Julianne and Ryder?”

“Taking a day off I reckon.”

Troy caught the gleam in the man’s eyes and knew Ryder and Julianne weren’t fooling anybody, least of all John. With no wish to plod further into that minefield, Troy changed the subject. “Are you taking this stuff back to Santa Cruz?”

“Don’t see why I should. I thought I’d just store it at the new house in the garage. What do you think?”

“That’s a good idea. Practical.”

They were hauling it out of the pickup when Julianne and Ryder pulled to the curb.

“Pop, I knew you’d do this. I told you to take a day off. Why don’t you ever listen?”

“I’d already made the drive to town to extend the flooring from the kitchen into the laundry room. I decided I might as well remove the stuff in the tent.”

She threw her arms around his neck, kissed his cheek. “How did I get so lucky in the father department?”

John blushed as he always did when his daughter heaped on praise. “You’d better check out the floor inside and see if it meets with your approval.”

“Pop, with you doing the work, I already know it’s perfect. Now head home and get some rest before you have to go back out tomorrow.” She aimed a finger in his direction. “Do not argue with me about this.”

“And how will you get back home?”

“My van’s still parked at the B&B. I still have to go get my stuff and check out.”

John didn’t push for details. “Then I’ll head back.”

“Pop.”

“What?”

“Be careful driving back.”

When John had gone, Ryder turned to Troy. “Thanks for covering for me at the farm. I owe you.”

“Just get that business proposal done and we’ll call it even. I’m no good at stuff like that.”

“Julianne offered to help. I think we hashed it out to where we won’t embarrass ourselves in front of Nick.”

Out of earshot of Julianne, Troy lowered his voice. “If you worked on the business plan something tells me you didn’t have the kind of night I thought you had.”

Ryder gave him the one-finger salute. “This is your IQ.”

Troy guffawed with laughter.

“What’s so funny,” Julianne wondered when she came up to them. But without waiting for a response, she added, “I have an idea. Why don’t we call Zach and Bree and get their take on what we put together, get their input before tomorrow? In the meantime I’ll go back to Promise Cove and get my stuff.”

Ryder nodded. “We could all meet at the farm.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

 

 

While Ryder did
the milking and caught up on work in the admin offices, Julianne started a batch of cornbread and cheesy macaroni. Comfort food on a rainy day seemed a good complement to talking business. To offset the starch, she tossed together a salad, sliced apples and made veggie omelets.

“Need help? Bree asked.

“Nope, I’ve got it. Ryder doesn’t have a lot, so I put together a meal with what he had on hand.”

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