Snow Dance (3 page)

“Well, don’t you?”

Another miss.

Parker set the axe down and aimed his finger at the sky. “See those clouds? That means snow. And before it comes your dad wants these logs cut up into little pieces for his fireplace and stacked all nice and neat right outside the back door. So, instead of sitting over there flapping your chops, how about you gather up some of this wood and help me load it onto my truck.”

“Oooh. Shy guy ain’t so shy after all.” She pursed her candy pink lips and laughed. Then she began carting split logs to the back of the 4x4 parked about twenty feet away.

Parker returned to his axe work. The strange thing was that his slight victory actually made him relax a bit and allow his attention wander to her.

Tanya stayed until he finished and helped him gather the rest of the logs. After they dumped the final armload into his truck, she leaned against it and fixed her dark eyes on him with a challenging gaze. “Now I expect my payment. And you know what it is, don’t you?”

Heat suffused his cheeks, and he cursed himself for this visible evidence that she’d gotten to him. He tried to think of a clever comeback, but he’d never been any good at that sort of thing. The look on Tanya’s face told him she knew darn well how much she bothered him — in ways he’d have a hard time concealing if his jacket didn’t hang to the top of his thighs.

As Parker stumbled over a few attempts to speak, Tanya sallied up to him, threw her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss that went on for several minutes.

A kiss that Parker would remember for a lifetime.

CHAPTER THREE

Amanda noticed the vintage twenties velvet purse was missing. So was the fifties style gold vinyl belt. The one Casey had admired.

Had she stolen them? Amanda and Casey had spent all day painting the walls for next Saturday’s opening. The only other person who’d been near her stock was Russ, and these items weren’t exactly his style. Amanda already felt deeply for the teen and knew kids could make stupid mistakes when they were troubled with feelings they couldn’t handle. But still, if Casey had taken them, how far could Amanda trust her?

She ran a hand through her hair, mulling over the best way to deal with this. Part of the girl’s job would be handling cash sales when Past Perfect opened next week. Would she steal from the store’s cash box? Amanda decided to ask Russ about it tonight. He knew Casey and her family. Maybe he’d act as a go between.

Amanda headed back to her cottage a few blocks from Peconic Bay. A light snow began to fall, but she still made her usual trek down to the bay and walked along the water. Truth was, Amanda loved walking in a snowfall. It made the world look magical and dreamy the way it did under stage lighting. If only life were like that.

Back home, she showered and took her time putting on makeup and choosing a casual but sexy striped sheath that she paired with her favorite blue scarf and black four-inch heels. By now her stomach was tied up in knots over her “date” with this Russ. A guy she knew nothing about. Except that he had handyman skills, bad taste in clothes and a buff torso she wouldn’t mind having pressed up against hers.

But Amanda hadn’t gone out with a man in over a year. After her insulting and painful divorce from a chronic womanizer that she’d been dumb enough to marry, the whole subject of male-female relationships left a bitter taste in her mouth. She’d made her ex pay with a settlement that left her financially comfortable, but that couldn’t erase the trepidation that made her swear off any kind of dating and romantic involvement.

Yet here she was jumping into who knew what with another questionable man after living in North Cove for less than a month.

At seven thirty Russ pulled into her driveway in an ancient Volvo. At least it wasn’t the dented, green pick-up truck she’d seen him driving before. She rushed to the bathroom and checked her lipstick and hair once more before answering the door.

He looked great. Clean-shaven, clean trousers and clean dress shirt opened at the collar beneath a black leather jacket. For the first time since they met, Amanda allowed herself to acknowledge his virile appeal. His face was far from perfect, but she liked the hint of crow’s feet near his green eyes, the curious scar across his brow and that slightly weathered look of a man who spends a great deal of time outdoors. More fit than most thirty-year-olds she encountered, his posture spoke of confidence and someone who did not like to be confined or obedient. An immediate turn-on for her rebellious nature.

And he must have been pretty happy with what he saw because he just stood there with his gaze on her, the corners of his sexy mouth curling into a full-blown smile.

But as they drove to the bistro in the Greenporter Hotel in Greenport, Amanda reminded herself of why she needed to keep up her guard. Especially since the “hotel” part of this location made her nervous. After a couple glasses of yummy chardonnay from a local vineyard, she asked, “So, what made you choose this restaurant?”

“Casey told me you eat organic. One of the specialties here is organic steak.”

Relieved on the first count, she now had to figure out how to tell him she didn’t eat meat. But Russ was acting so cute and trying so hard to please her, she couldn’t bear to disappoint him and found herself actually ordering a steak.

“What do you do for a living, Russ?” Amanda hated sounding like those people who made judgments on a person’s occupation, but she was curious.

“I come from a family of a baymen. I fish, I harvest scallops and clams. Whatever’s there. Godzilla.”

“I love fresh Godzilla.” They laughed.

“Not a great living anymore, but at least I’m my own boss.”

“Then you grew up out in the North Fork?”

He nodded. “My family goes back six generations here. So do the Richardsons. Was a time when our kind could live just fine off the bay and what we grew on our farms. But things have changed. Most of the old families have had to sell off land to keep going, to keep our independence. Casey’s dad switched to gardening and mowing lawns for the folks with big bucks.”

“That reminds me. I need to talk to you about Casey.” Amanda cleared her throat, sensing this protective man might take offense at her accusation. And after she explained about the missing items, he did just that.

“Casey didn’t take those things.”

“Look, I know she’s a great kid, but—”

“I was afraid of this. Cranky old bat’s at it again. Casey’s not your perp. It’s Emily Ramhorst.”

“You know this person?”

“Sort of.”

Annoyed, she waited for him to say more, but he just sat there. “Well, will you please tell her I want my things back? Otherwise, I’m going to the police.”

Russ heaved a sigh. “Sorry to say, neither one’s an option.”

“Really? Why not?”

“She died about fifty years ago.”

Amanda blinked. “You’re not suggesting…”

“I didn’t mention it because I figured the idea of your place being haunted would send you running back home to New York City.”

“Over some ghost nonsense? Puh-leeze. And by the way, what makes you think I come from New York City?”

“I can tell.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Okay, so where are you from?”

“New York City.”

He rolled his eyes.

Luckily the waiter arrived with their organic steaks. Amanda hadn’t eaten meat in so many years she almost pretended not to be hungry. But it smelled so good, and she’d had just enough wine to want to admit she was sick of all the rules she had made for herself. She dug in, but glanced at Russ and said, “Do you really believe in ghosts? Or are you worried I’ll fire Casey? I would rather keep her on if you could just help me deal with—”

“Back in the forties your store used to be a house owned by an old woman named Emily Ramhorst.” He refilled her glass with wine. “Never married. Lived alone. There’s a story about a baby dog somebody gave her.”

“A baby dog is a puppy.”

“Right. Name was Fluffy.”

“A dog named Fluffy.”

“So they say.”

“Are you teasing me?”

“No.” He gulped some wine. “It happened during one of these pretty intense snowstorms we get out here. Seems the dog got out and took off in the blizzard. Old Mrs. Ramhorst heads outside into the bitter cold looking for it and disappears into the night. Next day, Fluffy shows up at the back door of a bar down the street. A place called Mallory’s. Meanwhile, Emily Ramhorst was never to be seen or heard from again.”

“So they end up finding Fluffy but losing Mrs. Ramhorst.” Amanda smiled, expecting him to tell her he’d just made this up.

But he didn’t. “Yep. Emily was last seen wandering around outside her house in the dark calling her dog’s name. Some say they found her frozen body over near Marratooka Pond.”

“Come on, Russ. You don’t really expect me to believe this.”

He shrugged, but Amanda noted a devilish glint in his eyes.

“You’re no help.” She shook her head, wondering if maybe she made too much out of small things. Here was a guy who lived in a way so different from the driven, aggressive achievers she’d known in her past.

Instead Amanda decided to loosen up, enjoy the food and the delicious vino. Not to mention take in his sexy forearms with the briny tattoos. He offered up a brief history. The New York Jets logo was self-explanatory. Whereas Amanda found the story behind the sea monster with the golden eyes rather fascinating. By the time they left the restaurant she was feeling silly and girlish — and ready for you name it.

Laughing over just about everything, she and Russ walked arm-in-arm as they crossed the parking lot.

“Hey, let me ask you something,” he said, stumbling over his words while chuckling ridiculously over God knew what. “How do feel about swimming in the nude in the middle of winter?”

Amanda broke up. “I think the idea sounds divine.”

“I just happen to know this guy who has a heated swimming pool.”

“You don’t say.”

“I do. And I also say I have a right to use his pool on any given night since that property originally belonged to my grandparents.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “True story.”

“Then I say it’s time you stood up for your rights.”

“Exactly.”

They parked in Russ’s back yard, where she could see the shadowy forms of a few boats on racks. Laughing and teasing, they slipped out of their shoes and coats. Amanda also left her blue silk scarf on the car seat; she didn’t want to risk losing her favorite.

She followed him through a wooded path, climbed a fence and tiptoed to an unlocked outbuilding. She told herself she was insane to be doing this, but couldn’t deny it was more fun than she’d had in years. Once inside the pool house Russ found the wall switch and flicked on a light that shed a soft glow over the pool. He turned to Amanda and grinned. “Are you ready for this?”

“I am.”

“Then to quote Marlon Brando from
On The Waterfront
, I’m going in there to claim to my rights.”

“I
love
Marlon Brando.” She was about to go on, but her words faltered at the sight of Russ stepping out of his trousers. He had runner’s legs, and the torso she’d seen in that ratty white tee looked even better naked. A part of her was dying to leap into his arms and wrap her legs around him. But he dropped into the water.
Thwoop
.

“Come on in,” he said, with a grin that ignited a warm tingle in her body.

All those years as a dancer obsessing over every pound assailed her. Amanda was by no means heavy, but she’d added a few pounds now that she no longer had to maintain a stage-ready body. Before she could turn wimp, she yanked her sheath overhead and slithered out of her tights, glad she’d worn her new lace underwear.

Russ’s breath caught. “You have the most gorgeous body I’ve ever seen.”

Amanda was intoxicated enough to believe him. Delighting in the way his eyes seemed to drink her in, she performed a coquettish dance as she removed her bra and panties. His mouth hung open, and she wanted to kiss it so badly she slid into the pool right in front of him and did just that. His strong arms gripped her, pulling her against his chest.

Just as Amanda began to enjoy the feel of his body, the taste of wine on his lips and the musky male scent of his skin, a light went on outside.

They both looked up. Through the windows they saw another light come on over the back deck of the main house. Then they heard a door opening.

“Shit.” Amanda scrambled out of the pool, Russ right beside her.

“Grab your stuff,” he said, gathering his clothes in a bunch.

Of course Amanda had to go and get fancy, tossing her bra off to the side in her little lingerie hula. She snatched up her dress, tights and panties, but…“I can’t find my bra.”

“I’ll buy you a new one.” He took her arm and tugged her out the door. Just in time.

A flashlight moved toward the pool house. “Hey!” A beam passed over them, but the two ducked into the woods and ran.

“Ouch. Umph. Dammit.” Stepping on frozen twigs, branches scratching her skin, Amanda couldn’t help laughing as she raced behind Russ until they reached his back door.

A big German shepherd named Bernie greeted them inside.

Awkward and shivering, figuring it was probably for the best since she wasn’t sure how well condoms worked in swimming pools anyway, Amanda began to dress.

But Russ stopped her, led her to the bedroom and kept her warm for the rest of the night.

CHAPTER FOUR

Casey agreed to work every night that week for Amanda because Past Perfect was slated to open on Saturday. She’d managed to get dinner cooked and made sure Jenna ate, but she hated not being able to sit at her father’s bedside. Parker assured her he’d call immediately if her dad took a turn for the worse. And he told her it might be a good idea to make herself scarce during her mother’s latest effort not to drink. It always put her mom in a cranky temper, and for some reason Casey bore the brunt of her wrath.

Amanda stocked new remakes of vintage items, as well as the real stuff, and right now Casey was unpacking a box of retro plastic bracelets in sixties Day-Glo colors. She felt Amanda watching her closely. “Where do you want these set up, Amanda?”