No Sunshine When She's Gone (21 page)

“She broke boundaries.”

“And my heart,” he said. “She wouldn’t give me the time of day outside class. My life lost all meaning.”

“You recovered?”

“Lily Louise brought new meaning to my sophomore year of high school. She liked to French kiss.”

“What defines you, Aidan?” She was curious.

“Honesty, hard work, my family, Sadie,” he answered. “You?”

“My intuition,” she told him. “I’m also loyal and protective of my friends.”

“Good qualities.”

“There’s always room for improvement.” She reflected on her white lies. She was working toward telling the truth.

They grew quiet, sitting together in a compatible silence where words were no longer necessary. A smile, a wink, a touch meant so much more. His dark gaze was warm and inviting. She realized in that moment she could stare at him forever. She would never tire of this man.

“I like you, Jillie Mac.” He became serious.

I like you more,
died in her throat. “It’s nice to be liked,” she said lightly.

“It’s even nicer when it’s reciprocated.”

She’d disappointed him. She could see it in his eyes. Her life seemed suddenly complicated. Indecision weighed her down. She hated second-guessing herself. What if she felt more for him than he felt for her? What if she was reading more into their night together than was actually there? She’d been fooled too many times.

Her previous relationships had ended poorly. Once emotion slid between the sheets, she always got hurt. She couldn’t afford that with Aidan. She was already in too deep.

She yawned then. The pressure of the day had caught up with her. She could hardly keep her eyes open. Aidan sensed her need for sleep. He rose and cleared the table. Scooping her up in his arms, he carried her to his bed. The king-size headboard was designed as a bookcase and shelved with books. Mysteries, biographies, and science fiction. The man liked to read.

He lowered her on soft blue cotton sheets and then lay down beside her. He drew her to him, and she settled close. He covered her with a navy satin comforter. Gently kissed her on the forehead. She was snug, secure, and scared to death. Nothing lasted forever.

His body soon relaxed, and she knew he slept.

She closed her eyes for two hours.

Then quietly crawled out of bed, dressed, and greeted dawn on her drive home.

Monday morning, and Aidan Cates was determined to locate Jillian Mac, even if it took him all day. She’d left his home between four and six a.m. on Sunday, without saying good-bye. She was now avoiding him. His instincts had told him not to chase her. He’d stayed away an entire day. Today he would find her.

I like you
. He had meant what he’d said. He’d wanted to gage her reaction. He’d hoped for a smile; instead her face had fallen. She’d given him sad eyes and a frown. Definitely not what he’d expected.

He knew she had feelings for him. Their connection was strong. She’d made love with her heart. He wanted to know her better, if she would give him half a chance. Sneaking out hadn’t set well with him. They needed to talk things over.

Jill had stayed one step ahead of him all morning. He’d stopped by her houseboat at first light, only to discover she’d left earlier than usual for work. He knew her routine. The Cateses were a grapevine for news. Secrets were shared. The family stood tight. Jill was now part of their community. He had only to listen to learn her whereabouts.

He’d gone by Brews Brothers, where she often bought a cup of coffee and a bagel with strawberry cream cheese. She would then sit on an outside bench, watch the beachcombers, and enjoy her breakfast. She’d feed her favorite seagull, named Gilligan. There’d been no sign of her at the coffee shop. The barista indicated she had long come and gone.

He now scanned the boardwalk to see if she was window shopping, one of her favorite pastimes. She seldom went inside a store to make a purchase. The lady was thrifty.

His third stop was the Rogues Shop. There were no customers. He found Carrie at her desk in the back room, buried beneath a stack of files.

“Good morning, Aidan.” She peered around the mound of paperwork. “How can I help you?”

“Where can I find your boss?” he asked.

Carrie checked her desk calendar. “One of three places,” she told him. “Today she’s handing out Rogues souvenirs: sun visors and hats at Parks and Recreation, beach blankets and balls by the pier, and key chains and cup holders at the opening of Save-a-Buck, the new dollar store on Hibiscus Boulevard.”

“Her first stop?” He hoped Carrie could be more specific and narrow down his search.

“Jillie ‘floats’ most days.” Carrie used air quotes. “She has an agenda, but she’ll take care of business in her own way and on her own time. She’s not a clock watcher. She moves with her biorhythms. They serve her well.”

Aidan ran his hand down his face, considered his options. He would find her, at some point during the day. He had people he could call at each location, including the pier. Someone would spot her.

The community center was closest to the construction site. He’d start there. He needed to stop by the trailer and check in with Mike and his girls, just to make certain there weren’t any problems. While Mike could deal with most matters, Aidan remained a hands-on owner. He’d experienced theft and vandalism over the years. He kept his finger on the pulse of his company.

Next week he planned to take a few days and fly to Tampa to see how the cardiac unit was progressing. He wondered if he could talk Jill into traveling with him. He could make the trip both business and pleasure.

“Anything else, Aidan?” Carrie asked. Her smile was tentative.

“Have you heard from Rylan?” He was curious. He’d hoped to see his brother before Ry returned to Richmond.

“I haven’t seen him since the softball after-party at the beach house,” she told him. “You missed the celebration.”

He’d had his own good time. Nothing could match his night with Jillian Mac. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

He had one last question for Carrie before he split. A personal one. “You and Rylan seem close,” he hinted.

“We’re friends, nothing more,” she said easily. “Rylan’s a good guy. We have a lot in common, but he’s not my type.” She grew thoughtful. “Ballplayers are a breed unto themselves. They’re intense and competitive; winning is everything. Not every woman is cut out to date an athlete. I’m one of them.”

Good to know, Aidan thought. “I’m off,” he said, only to stop a moment later before a display of baseball caps. “Do you mind if I grab one on my way out?” He’d left his on the kitchen counter, in his hurry to leave the house. The sun was blinding. “Put it on my account.”

“Take two,” she called after him.

He did, one for him and one for Mike, although Mike would probably stick with his
Screw Driver
cap. Returning to the boardwalk, he stood within the shadow of an overhead awning and made a few phone calls. His contact at the pier hadn’t seen Jill, but the receptionist at the community center said she was out by the pool at that very moment.

Aidan jogged to the parking lot, climbed into his SUV, and drove to the public park. He let up on the gas pedal two separate times when he realized he was speeding.

He felt disjointed. A part of him seemed to be missing. That part was Jillian Mac. She made him restless. He’d begun pacing on Sunday, and he hadn’t stopped. He’d taken Sadie for so many walks, she finally went into hiding when he pulled out her leash. There hadn’t been a movie or sport on television that held his attention. He’d clicked the remote through all seventy channels. Over and over again.

Jill was his primary focus.

He followed a long line of traffic toward the main recreational facility. Schools were closed for teacher planning and professional development. Students headed for the park.

The center supported both Barefoot William and Saunders Shores. Trace Saunders had donated the land and building as a wedding gift to his wife. The man was generous.

There was no immediate place to park. Aidan drove around the lot eight times, waiting for someone to leave. He located a corner space just as a woman with a carload of kids pulled up. The lady looked harried. He gave her the spot and found another. He ended up parking on the grass by the picnic area; from there he walked to the main entrance, where he went in through automatic doors.

Once inside, he took a moment to look around. The complex was a combination of sage walls, wide windows, and open spaces. There were signs posted throughout, directing people to the basketball, handball, and tennis courts, as well as the baseball diamonds and skate park.

Two indoor rooms were designated for arts and crafts. He peered into one and found a female counselor instructing five young girls on how to make individual and chain paper dolls. Construction paper, buttons, yarn, fabric, and glitter were strewn over a long table. The girls smiled, giggled, and squealed as they cut out and decorated their projects.

A room down the hallway provided training courses for babysitters, CPR, and youth fitness. He noted a list of upcoming events: summer theater tryouts, martial arts, dance, and music, along with several scheduled field trips.

The recreational center had something for everyone, he thought as he passed through the men’s changing room and stepped out on the pool deck. Here were swimmers and sunbathers who preferred the pool to the beach. Swimming lessons were offered and organized games were conducted in the shallow end.

“No splashing allowed in the baby pool.” Aidan recognized Jill’s voice a second before he spotted her. She clapped her hands, then pointed to a young boy with spiky hair and a mischievous smile. “That means you, Kenny Novak. You’re six, and the other children are two and three. Scoot.”

Several of the mothers sitting on the cement edge with their kids nodded their appreciation when Kenny obeyed and hopped out. But not before he swung his arm and sprayed a tiny blonde in the face, making her cry. The girl’s mom dried her daughter’s eyes, and then cuddled her close.

“Drop by the snack room for a juice box, Janie,” Jill offered the girl. “There’s apple and fruit punch.”

Aidan crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the chain-link fence that surrounded the three swimming pools, built for different age groups. Six lifeguards were on duty, yet Jillian Mac appeared in charge.

She was a chameleon. She had the ability to fit in easily and without question, while he stood out amid the bikinis and board shorts. He was overdressed. He rolled up the sleeves of his blue shirt to his elbows. His work jeans were worn white at the seams. His steel-toed Timberlands stood out among all the bare feet. He’d have to be careful not to step on anyone’s toes.

He stared at Jill, appreciating her as a woman. Her hair was damp, as if she’d taken a dip in the pool. A red Rogues visor shaded her eyes from the sun. Her navy nylon swimsuit clasped her body and showed off her curves. A white whistle was clipped to a coiled elastic cord at her wrist. A large canvas beach bag filled with Rogues souvenirs hung over her shoulder. It was apparently heavy. She leaned left as she walked around the base of the low diving board, heading toward the concession stand.

She greeted everyone as if they were family. She’d made it a point to learn people’s names. Her smile was contagious. She accepted hugs from the small children and shook hands with their parents. She passed out ball club memorabilia. She made sure every person received something.

She was good at her job, Aidan thought. She built anticipation. Barefoot William would be in frenzy by the time spring training rolled around next year. He was a baseball fan, and was as excited as the next guy.

“No running, Chris,” Jill called to a boy of eight or nine. “Jacob, you’re dripping ice cream on the pool deck. There’s no food allowed beyond the red line.” Jacob backed up and finished off his cone in the proper area. Jill rewarded him with a sun visor.

“Hey, Jill,” a male lifeguard shouted to her from across the pool. He pointed to the large gray clock shaped like a dolphin near the refreshment stand. It was eleven. “It’s beach ball hour.”

Jill gave him a thumbs-up.

Aidan watched as the guard crossed toward an enormous bin of Rogues beach balls. He unhooked the fish netting that kept them contained, and dozens of balls in an assortment of sizes bounced onto the cement deck. Eagerly, the kids chose their favorites.

A skirmish broke out when two boys simultaneously reached for the largest one. They pulled, tugged, and exchanged fighting words. Jill stepped in. She blew her whistle, raised her voice. “Damian and Rocky, share the ball or I’ll give it to someone else.” The boys backed off, and took turns. “Much better,” she praised them.

A leggy young girl shyly approached Jill. The girl’s bathing suit was faded and had seen better seasons. “I’m Cassie Lane,” Aidan overheard the girl say.

“I’m Jillian Mac,” she replied.

The girl pointed to the solid silver bracelet on Jill’s right wrist. “I like your jewelry.”

Jill held up the bracelet so Cassie could have a better look. “It has the Rogues inscription on the inside,” she said. “We sell them at our store on the boardwalk. We also have charms.”

“I’m a fan,” said Cassie. “I’ll start saving my allowance so I can buy a bracelet.” She scrunched her nose. “I watched the Rogues televised games last year. They lost a lot.”

“They’ll have a better season this year,” Jill predicted. “We now have Rylan Cates. He’s a superstar.”

Aidan agreed with Jill. Ry would add dimension to the team. He was a born leader.

“I play softball,” the girl went on to say. “Right field.”

“I’m sure you’re an awesome player,” said Jill.

The girl looked down, wistfully said, “I’m growing into my legs.”

Jill smiled. “Psycho McMillan used to play right for the Rogues. You need long legs to cover the outfield.”

Cassie sighed. “I better go. There’s no school, but my mom still has to work. She cleans houses. I need to ride my bike home and babysit.”

“You have brothers and sisters?”

Cassie nodded. “Two younger brothers, who don’t always listen to me.”