Stranger on the Shore (Mirabelle Harbor, Book 4) (17 page)

What a liar I am!

Still, it was better than admitting the truth, wasn’t it? That I’d been daydreaming about what it would feel like to kiss him.

“Oh, good,” Gil said, hopefully oblivious to my fantasies. “Thanks.”

When the father character in the film—Duster Heywood, a.k.a., Elvis’s movie dad—said something about how the Florida climate sure does “strange things” to people, I almost laughed aloud.

No freakin’ kidding.

How convenient to be able to blame my adolescent thoughts on the sun and surf.

By the time Elvis had won both the big boating regatta and the pretty girl he’d been lusting after for an hour and forty minutes, all four of us sitting in Joy’s living room had become almost as boneless as a bunch of baby shrimp, sinking deep into our respective cushions and not at all interested in the prospect of moving.

“I don’t wanna get up,” Abby moaned. “Should I hit replay? The DVD’s not that long. We could watch it again.”

“Nope,” Gil insisted. “I’m going to fall asleep if I keep sitting here.”

“And then he’ll start snoring,” his sister said. “He sounds like guacamole.”

She was serious, but the unusualness of the remark—so very
Joy
—had the rest of us bursting with laughter. And, naturally, a number of avocado jokes and wordplays on her synesthesia-like observations followed.

“Y’all better get out of here,” she said, giggling, “before I kick your butts out the door.” She pitched a throw pillow at her big brother. He caught it and pitched it right back at her. Joy snuggled up with it, resting her head on it like a toddler, ready for naptime.

Abby pushed herself to standing and yawned. Loudly. She padded over to the TV, retrieved her movie, and blew air kisses at us all. “Tomorrow morning’s gonna come way too soon. See you three bright and early.”

We all said goodnight to her and then, moments later, Gil turned to me. “Did you want to stay longer and pester my sister? Or would you like me to walk you to your car?”

I grinned. “Well, as tempting as it sounds to pick on Joy for another hour—”

My friend raised her head off her pillow, feigned a look of irritation, and said, “Don’t you be taking his side, Marianna. I’ll retaliate.”

“—given her threats, though,” I continued, “I’d better go, too.”

Gil chuckled. “Wise choice. That girl can be vicious.” Then, belying his words, he walked over to his kid sister and pecked her on the top of her head with such gentleness, as if she were a beloved baby bird. “Just let me grab my keys.”

I thanked Joy for the wonderful evening, and the younger woman smiled up at me. “It was my pleasure.” I didn’t doubt the sincerity of her words at all, but I still couldn’t help marveling at it. I had really made some new friends. It felt almost magical.

Moments later, Gil and I strode outside, the heat of the Sarasota night held in the air, like an extra ration of warmth being kept in reserve. We were standing next to my car before my body could even adjust to the absence of air conditioning.

Gil licked his bottom lip again, though there wasn’t so much as a drop of ice cream left anywhere. I couldn’t even pretend to see a speck, so I glanced away to keep myself from staring.

“This is getting to be a habit,” he joked, motioning toward the car.

I forced myself to meet his eye. “It is. But thank you. It’s really thoughtful of you to make sure I’m safe.”

He waved that off as if it were a given. And licked his lip yet again. Damn.

“So—” he began. Then stopped and took a long breath. “As we were watching the movie, it occurred to me that you might not have seen much of the Siesta Key nightlife, being so new to the area and all. Have you, um, heard of the Sunday night drumming at the beach?”

“No.”

He explained something about how a bunch of local folks got together each weekend and beat on their drums to an extemporaneous rhythm of their own making, while people of all ages danced on the sand. “It’s fun,” he assured me.

“Sounds like it,” I said, though, to be honest, I was having a hard time imagining myself at an event like that. Seemed a little hippyish.

“So, after the Craft Festival is over tomorrow, would you like to go with me? Usually starts around six o’clock.”

“Sure. Are Joy, Abby, or Lorelei planning to come, too?”

He shook his head and, just to torment me, licked both his top and bottom lips. “I don’t, um, generally bring my sister on my dates...and definitely not her coworker or her married friend.” He grinned, but there was an endearing look of nervous self-consciousness that he seemed unable to hide. “Still want to go, Marianna?”

Then his words sank in. “On a date? With you?” I had to ask, just to make sure I wasn’t misinterpreting his question or anything.

“Yeah.”

“Well, yes, Gil—of course.” And I nodded for emphasis. Then, in a rare bolt of audacity, I even added, “What took you so long to ask?”

He laughed loudly, the tension in the space between us dissolving. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” And then, ever so tenderly, he brought those wet, luscious lips of his down toward my face and brushed my mouth with a light kiss.

A kiss that, after just a few seconds of our lips touching, turned deeper, harder, wilder.

A passionate kiss that promised so much more...

My breath caught at the surprising intensity of it, and the tension between us returned with a heat that spiked like a fever.

Now I was the one trying to mask my own nervous self-consciousness. “Um.”

“Goodnight, Marianna,” Gil said, taking a deliberate step back from me and toward his own car. “Until tomorrow.”

Sunday Drumming

G
il jumped out of bed with a spring in his step and a smile on his lips. The Craft Festival was always a good time, but there was something extra special about it this year. And that something special—or, rather, someone special—had a name: Marianna Gregory.

Kissing her last night...
wowza
. He was rendered almost as speechless as his pet newt when he’d pulled away from her. Hadn’t managed to say more than a few words afterward. Could barely remember to breathe.

She’d stolen the oxygen from his lungs and his mouth. But he didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, she was welcome to do it again. And again.

God help him if his mother found out about her, though. Ma would have their wedding planned before the evening hit.

He sprinkled some amphibian food into Nancy’s tank, bid his low-maintenance pet farewell for the day, and found himself actually whistling on his drive to the Circle.

When he got to their tent, Marianna was already there, chatting with his sister in fevered whispers as they readied the tables for another busy day of sales. When they spotted him, though, both women paused abruptly—too abruptly—and grinned at him. Joy’s blue eyes danced with mischievous delight. And Marianna’s face was a study in shades of pink.

Hmm.

He knew when he was being talked about. Joy was insatiable when it came to ferreting out information, but he hadn’t taken Marianna as a kiss-n-tell type.

“Mornin’, ladies,” he said warily.

“Good morning,” they chorused back.

“Lorelei and Abby are on their way,” Joy informed him.

“But we’ve got almost everything ready,” Marianna was quick to say. “So, don’t worry.”

He met her gaze and held it. “I wasn’t worried. In fact, I’m pretty sure this is gonna be a fabulous day.”

His sister’s eyebrows rose with marked interest and Marianna blinked rapidly. “Me, too,” she murmured, and Gil had the satisfaction of seeing her blush deepen.

The other two women came in and, as soon as it was humanly possible, he was cornered by his sister, out of earshot from her friends.

“You and Marianna are going on a date tonight!”

He feigned an indifferent shrug. “So?”

“So? How can you be so blasé about it? I could see a change in her aura right away when she came in this morning. And in yours, too, big brother.”

“Ah. You’re saying you’d guessed about our date from our auras?”

She planted her strong little fists on her hips. “Of course, Gil. I mean, I had to worm the specifics out of her—when you were going out, who asked whom, and so on—but even though Marianna tried to downplay it, I can tell how much she’s looking forward to it. So, don’t mess this up tonight.”

He laughed. If just the date details got his sister this excited, he knew he could really jolt her circuits with the rest. “She tried to downplay it, huh?”

Joy nodded.

“She didn’t mention our mind-blowing kiss, then?”

His sister actually squealed and bounced in place like a baby kangaroo. “You
kissed
her?” Oh, my goodness, Gil. That’s so great!”

“All right, well, now you know, So you can stop pestering Marianna for details. Your enthusiasm might scare her off. And, besides, we all know she’s leaving in a few weeks. You can’t get too attached, okay?”

Joy wrinkled her nose. “But—”

“But nothing. She and I are just going to the beach drumming tonight and talking. It’s a date, yes, but it’s a really casual one.”

“If you say so,” Joy said, but with a distinctly disbelieving tone.

Odd thing was, in quieter moments during the day when he was being honest with himself, he didn’t exactly believe his statement either. Every time he glanced at Marianna, his heart leaped. Every time they conversed, he began to fantasize about what a longer-term relationship with her might be like. There was a powerful attraction between them for sure, but there was also a growing friendship and respect. The combination was heady, and it left him breathless at the possibilities.

Why the hell couldn’t she stay in Sarasota beyond the summer? He’d come here one June day and had stayed for over twenty years. Based on what she’d told him about her life in Illinois, it wasn’t as though she had a lot to go back to in Mirabelle Harbor, right?

He shook his head. No. Home was home. And not everyone found it as easy to cut ties with one’s past as he did. That would be a lot to ask Marianna. Plus, this was a damned dangerous line of thinking. And here he’d been telling his
sister
not to get too attached.

Joy’s good mood, however, couldn’t be repressed and not only because he and her new friend had gotten cozier.

Midway through the afternoon, that suit who’d come in yesterday—the one who already purchased about thirty of the B.E.A.D.S. bracelets—returned. This time with a checkbook and a proposition.

“My name is Peter Barrett,” the suit said to Joy, handing her an embossed business card that looked expensive even from across the tent. “I work for a company called Naturalacrity. My employer and I were both really impressed with the jewelry samples I brought back yesterday, and we were hoping we might interest you in a private art event next month. We would, of course, pay for the cost of your materials and the time you and your staff would spend working on the additional bracelets—”

Joy shot Marianna, Lorelei, and Abby an amused grin. Her “staff” consisted of just this small group of ladies, but that Peter dude didn’t seem to know that.

“And, naturally,” Peter continued, “we would also include one of your business cards with each bracelet and make a sizeable corporate donation to the Florida endangered species fund of your choice.” He flashed a check at Joy that had her eyes widening like the many zeroes that followed the number one on that thin strip of paper. “We feel confident that the attendees at our Art Gala will appreciate these hand-crafted pieces as much as we do. We’d like to provide each attendee with one bracelet in their gift baskets, along with a few other delights.”

His sister thanked the man, clearly warming to him like an open flower to the sunlight. “Oh, that’s... that’s just wonderful,” she gushed, beaming at the guy. “How many attendees are you expecting?”

Peter Barrett straightened his suit jacket and smiled at her in a way that brought out Gil’s protective brotherly instincts. “About two thousand.”

Joy gaped at Peter. Then, his sweet kid sister who almost never swore, whispered, “Holy shit.”

~*~

I
f Saturday at the Craft Festival had been a whirlwind, Sunday was a veritable hurricane. Especially after that handsome businessman came back and made Joy an offer her animal-loving heart couldn’t refuse.

“I—I need to check with my staff,” Joy had stuttered. “Gil, can you, um—” She glanced frantically at her brother, who just nodded coolly before directing Peter Barrett’s attention to the other items in the tent. Meanwhile, Joy motioned for Abby, Lorelei, and me to go outside of the tent with her. We formed a huddle and discussed this surprise proposal.

“We can do it,” Abby declared.

“With at least four weeks to work on it,” added Lorelei, “we’ll get it done on time.”

“And I’ll help, too,” I heard myself volunteer.

Joy sent each of us a very grateful look. “The donation alone—” she whispered.

“I know, sweetie,” Lorelei said. “We can’t turn this opportunity down.”

And so it was agreed that we’d accept Peter’s offer and commit to his company’s private gala. As he and Joy hashed out the details and the paperwork on one side of the tent, I had a chance to reflect on what I was getting myself into... and why.

Although I believed in the endangered species cause, I’d be lying to myself if I gave that as my sole reason for jumping into this new project. I wanted to help Joy and my other new friends, of course. I wanted to keep doing what we’d been doing these past few days. But, most of all, I wanted to stay in this wonderful cocoon of kindness and warmth for as long as possible. The Art Gala was scheduled for late July. Just a few days later, I’d need to check out of Ellen’s bungalow and head home.

Gil caught me frowning. He walked over and whispered, “Is everything okay?”

I shrugged and stole a glance at Joy and Peter, their fair heads bowed together over the legalese of the contract documents. Her radiant happiness almost brought a tear to my eye.

Gil’s gaze followed mine over to his sister. “Hey, are you having seconds thoughts about agreeing to this project? The work involved will take up most of your vacation and—”