No Tan Lines (14 page)

“I wanted to get an early start,” she said, “but it was dark when I got here, and when the lights didn’t go on, I tripped over a box and dropped the tray of jewelry I brought with me.” She let out a big breath. “I’ve spent the past hour matching up earrings by touch.”

Kai mentally kicked himself. When he’d finished the paint job, he’d flipped the circuit breakers to check the wiring. He must have missed one or two when he flipped them back on.

“Who’s here with you?” he asked, his eyes adjusting to the darkness.

“I’m by myself.”

“I saw a bunch of shadows.”

“Not people, only mannequins.”

Thank goodness he hadn’t gone crazy with the hammer and beheaded the clothing dummies. He would have looked like a fool.

Nicole appeared very much alone on the floor and somewhat disheartened, as if her day had started on the wrong foot. She’d tripped, and the items on her tray had scattered. She had hundreds of mismatched earrings on the floor.

He’d set things right for her. Enemy or not, it was time to unveil his surprise. After all, it was his fault the lights hadn’t worked. He couldn’t wait to see her face when he switched the breakers back on. He did so now.

Light filled the store. Flattering, indirect lighting glowed from the tiny spotlights installed on the ceiling. A glossy antique white covered the walls. A petite silver-paddled ceiling fan stirred overhead. The floorboards were buffed and polished. The effect, he had to admit, was as stunning as the woman herself.

Kai held his breath and awaited her response. No words came forth. She pushed to her feet, her legs shaky, and turned in a full circle. Absorbed the magic.

The Jewelry Box looked like a fancy resort boutique, not a funky boardwalk shop. Her lips parted in astonishment. He’d definitely impressed her.

She stood in awe, all curvy and feminine. He couldn’t remember when he’d last seen a woman so beautiful so early in the morning. Her skin was fresh and dewy. Her lips, full and glossed. She wore a stark white T-shirt and matching skinny jeans. She’d dressed down to work. He liked her casual.

He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

She moved around, stroking the walls, then staring at the tiny spotlights. She drifted toward him but stopped short of actually touching. Her hazel eyes were soft and liquid, her voice, questioning. “You stretched the budget?”

He shrugged. “A few pennies here, a nickel there.”

“Why?” she asked.

He didn’t have an answer. There was something about Nicole that prompted him to provide and protect. “You need to open your business the way you plan to proceed,” he said, sharing advice once given him by his father. “Go big.” Although the shop was quite small.

Nicole bit down on her bottom lip. “What about Shaye?”

“She’ll come around.” Or so he hoped. He’d point out that the shop would be in tip-top shape for the next renter.

She grazed his forearm with the tips of her fingers, a light gesture of gratitude. “The shop is spectacular. Thank you.”

He looked down at her hand, so pale and smooth. Silver rings inlaid with turquoise sparkled on her fingers. A twisted copper wire bracelet with multicolored rhinestones circled her wrist. Today her fingernails were painted dark blue. Nicole was an intriguing woman.

So fascinating, in fact, he was forced to shift his stance. His painter’s pants stretched tighter across his crotch than when the lights were out. He needed to make an adjustment.

Nicole took a step back, relieving the tension. She went from touching his arm to punching his shoulder. “Don’t stand there like a cigar-store Indian. Give me a hand with the earrings.”

She had no idea just how wooden his body had become.

He hunkered down next to her on the floor. Sorting out the earrings was like matching puzzle pieces. He scooped up one dangly earring and one button style. He held them up to the light. Pretty, very pretty.

He next picked up a big gold hoop with chunky red beads and a purple feather. He palmed a hammered-sterling ear cuff.

He and Nicole bumped heads as they simultaneously bent forward to search the pile of earrings.

Her sweet breath brushed his cheek.

His whiskered jaw scraped her chin.

They were so close, he could have kissed her. He did not. She belonged to another man.

She eased back. “I found a mate,” she said, and she held up two drop earrings with filigree hearts.

After a great deal of looking, he finally found the second gold hoop. Each set of earrings was unique, as if she’d worked months to create the pair. The lady had talent.

Earrings came in pairs, just like people, Kai thought. He’d had only one serious relationship in his life, and that was with Crystal Smith. She’d wanted a bigger world than Barefoot William and had found that with Trace.

The longtime romance had ultimately opened his eyes to women who desired money over love. Crystal had left a serious scar. He still guarded his heart.

A companionable silence settled between them, and he stretched out his time with Nicole. His handyman list was long, and he had a lot to accomplish: replacement shingles at Crabby Abby’s General Store, new window treatments at Goody Gumdrops, and the installation of a new hairstylist chair at Scissorhands.

Another ten minutes, and they would part ways. The shop was officially hers now. She was on her own. She would be fine, he assured himself.

She didn’t need him looking out for her.

That was Trace Saunders’s job.

He watched as Nicole matched a pair of peridot flower earrings. She then dipped her head, and her cheeks pinkened. She looked embarrassed. “Yesterday I had my fortune read by Madame Aleta,” she admitted.

His aunt the fortune-teller could read a person’s soul. She was quite famous, with an international following. News articles frequently featured her gift, and she’d made several television appearances. She worked with law enforcement to solve local crimes. She could’ve lived anywhere in the world, yet she’d kept to her roots. Barefoot William remained her home.

Aleta’s psyche would’ve picked up on Nicole’s status on the boardwalk. Fortunately, Aleta wasn’t prone to gossip. He hoped his aunt would be discreet and keep the secret until Shaye was ready to make a full disclosure to the family.

“What’d she say?” His curiosity got the better of him.

“She said I had great courage, and, no matter the odds, I’d succeed in business. Within a year I’d be moving to a larger location and expanding to two stores.”

She paused, then sighed. “Aleta told me that I’d already met the man I would eventually marry. She saw young boys around me.
Lots
of boys.”

She swept her hair behind her ears and rubbed the back of her neck, looking thoughtful and serious. “I never thought about having children. Business was always my top priority.”

He understood and was about to tell her so when her cell phone rang, a sexy, jazzy ring tone.

Who could that tone be for? Maybe it was—

She looked at the caller ID. “It’s Trace,” she said, confirming his suspicion. “I need to take the call.”

Jealousy pricked. He should’ve offered to leave and allowed her privacy for her conversation. Instead, he openly eavesdropped.

Her “hello” sparkled like dry Champagne. Her expression softened when she spoke. “It’s all perfect. Exactly like we planned.”

There was a significant pause as she listened to him; then she smiled. A very happy smile. “Everything is on schedule. I’ve ordered flowers, the invitations, talked to the caterer. I can’t wait for the big day either.”

The big day?
Kai pulled back as if he’d been slapped. He didn’t want to hear any more. They weren’t talking about the shop. It sounded as if they were planning a wedding.

Not
acceptable. His cousin Shaye might be able to convince the family to let an outsider rent a shop for a short time, but if Nicole married a Saunders, shit would hit the fan. Big-time.

Nicole ended the call with, “I’ll see you for lunch.”

Lunch followed by sex, Kai imagined.

He grew tense and irritable and figured it was time to leave. He handed her the final pair of earrings he’d picked from the pile. The cluster of crystals shone like diamonds.

He pushed to his feet. “I’ve got places to go, people to see.”

She looked surprised yet accepting. “How can I ever thank you for all you’ve done?” she asked.

Don’t marry Trace Saunders.

The thought slammed him hard. Then stupidity punched him. He’d only known the woman a few days. Somehow she’d rubbed off on him. He wanted to get to know her but would never have the chance. She belonged to Trace. Kai would never try to steal another man’s woman; that was Trace’s style.

He looked at her, letting his gaze linger over her stylish brown hair and sophisticated features. “Thank me by making a lot of money and moving to a larger location,” he finally managed. The sooner, the better.

That bigger store would be a boutique in Saunders Shores. She should be closer to her future husband and not near him, the Barefoot William handyman.

Their proximity was dangerous.

He didn’t trust himself with her.

Not one damn bit.

Five

T
race Saunders was damn mad. He held his anger inside. Three days had passed since he’d requested that Shaye Cates meet him at his office. She had not shown.

Marlene Mason had arrived, an exceptionally beautiful woman with extensive credentials. She’d been ready to work from the moment she stepped off his private plane. The event planner was in demand. She’d contracted with Trace for two weeks—that’s all she could give him. Several days were now lost, all due to Shaye’s unreasonable behavior.

His time was valuable, too. He hated chasing Shaye Cates down. He’d thought about sending his assistant, Martin. But Martin was polite and accommodating. Shaye would have bowled him over. The woman was beyond tricky. If she thought she could pull off the volleyball tournament without him, she was sadly mistaken. He needed to set her straight.

He knew right where to find her, at the west side of the pier near the shoreline. He stood on the boardwalk now and shaded his eyes against the sun. Shaye was easy to spot. Her “office door” stood open for business. Various family members clustered around her, five deep. It was time to break up their meeting.

He took the wide wooden steps from the boardwalk down to the beach. He’d come casual, in gray knit shirt and black shorts. He slipped off his Sperry Top-Siders and carried the deck shoes. They were comfortable and well-worn from sailing.

The sand had the cool crunch of early morning, prior to the shuffle of sunbathers. He crossed to her low beach chair. Shaye faced the Gulf and didn’t see him coming.

Her relatives noticed his approach and stepped aside. A few nodded, but no one spoke. He was getting used to the silent treatment. They remained cautious. He was a Saunders after all.

Shaye was deeply involved in a lively conversation and going strong. She’d yet to notice him. She spoke quickly, assuredly, a woman in charge. “Committees need to be formed. Uncle Phil’s responsible for tent rentals. Aunt Molly is the go-to for catering. Jenna’s pushing souvenirs. Kai heads ticket sales. Uncle Paul will handle parking. Anyone know a good hotel for the cocktail party?”

One lonely seagull squawked in response. Until Trace said, “I do. How about The Sandcastle? The fifth floor has a ballroom with a wraparound balcony.”

Shaye’s shoulders squared, stiffened, as he rounded her chair for their face-to-face. His shadow fell long and wide over the sand, covering her completely. He took his time and checked her out.

Her white-blond curls surrendered to a wide brown beaded hair band. The thin straps on her aqua one-piece crisscrossed in the back. Her skin was glossed with suntan oil. Her scent, coconut and banana. She belonged in an ad for Hawaiian Tropic.

Her cell phone rested in her cleavage. A wireless computer sat on her lap. Her hand fluttered ever so slightly, and he caught the change in color on her mood ring. The soft, peaceful green shifted to a startled rose. He liked her nervous.

“Good morning,” he said.

“It
was
good,” she muttered.

Sensing discord, the Cateses hovered but didn’t interfere. Trace kept his cool. “You’re late for our meeting,” he said.

“Only by three days.”

So she’d counted. He was certain she’d laughed off every second. Her amusement didn’t sit well with him.

“My administrative assistant set up a breakfast buffet—”

“Sorry if the muffins got stale.”

Her apology fell flat. “I’ve arranged office space for you at Saunders Square. How soon can you move in?”
Right now would be good.

“It’s Saturday, my day off.”

“You were working when I arrived.”

“My family came for a social visit.”

A visit cut short. Her relatives drifted off, one by one. Apparently they didn’t foresee any bodily harm.

He glanced at her computer screen. “Does ‘social’ include tent rentals and ticket sales?”

She’d structured numerous columns and filled each one. She closed the file, but before the screen went blank, he caught the full depth of her deception. It wasn’t pretty.

“Care to share?” he asked. “The tournament is a joint effort. Where’s our unified front?”

“I work best alone.”

So did he. “We had an agreement.”

“Which I’ll honor, to a point.” She stretched her legs, then slid her laptop into a waterproof case. “Don’t crowd me, Trace. The boardwalk is my home. I wouldn’t survive on your side of the street.”

“We’re not that different.”

“We’ve nothing in common.”

“There’s the volleyball tournament, or do you suffer short-term memory loss?” he asked.

She went inordinately still. He let her sit with her thoughts. She needed to decide if she was with him or against him. He’d bet on the latter.

Cheers and chatter along with music from the carousel carried on the air. The boardwalk was alive with activity. Trace ran one hand down his face. “How can you work with so much noise?” He preferred the quiet of his office.