Sweet Kiss (3 page)

“Not chocolate.” Kate pursed her lips. “Everybody does chocolate.” She remembered the premium Dutch chocolates Tappe used to give Aunt Fay, Violet, and her for every holiday and occasion on the calendar. She swore his dad had his own personal chocolate pipeline from the Netherlands markets because there was always a box of Droste chocolates lying around the Vanderberg’s house. Then she remembered the tiny candy hearts Tappe used to give her every year. He would buy several bags of them to keep a supply for the entire year. He’d leave them on the table near her books after they finished studying together. Often she’d find one in her coat pocket or in her purse. He knew she loved the pink and white ones the best.

Melanie snapped her fingers. “Hey, Kate, are you still with me?”

Kate nodded, clearing her head of wandering thoughts. “Oh, let’s not decorate until we can come up with something tasteful. I get weary of looking at red hearts trimmed with white paper doilies all over town.”

The back door creaking open jolted both girls. They swiveled and glanced suspiciously toward the storeroom which had direct access to the back lot and was only used by staff or family members. Seconds later, Violet came charging through like a wild woman and peered behind the counter before her gaze landed on Melanie and Kate by the window. Her drab gray suit, too large for her small frame, was wrinkled and missing a button. Underneath it, a yellow blouse stained with what looked like ketchup or shrimp sauce made her face look gaunt and severe.

“I wanted to catch you before you opened,” Violet said, rushing over. Her dull brown eyes found Melanie and she frowned. “If you don’t mind, I’d like a moment with my sister?”

Melanie’s and Kate’s gazes collided for an instant before Melanie raised an eyebrow as if to say,
good luck with this conversation
. She slapped a hand on the table and rose. “Well, I have lots to do. I’ll be taking inventory in the storeroom if you need me.”

“Thanks, Mel,” Kate said. She motioned to Violet to take a seat.

“I can’t stay.” Violet’s voice had a shrill edge to it. “I have to work, too, you know.”

Kate forced out a smile. “Not even for a scone and a quick cup of coffee? I just made some fresh. I have vanilla cappuccino. Your favorite. You don’t start at the real estate office for another twenty minutes.” She started to rise, but Violet stopped her.

“No, forget the coffee. I need to know what you plan to do with Aunt Fay’s house.” She clutched her shoulder bag to her side, nervously running her hand up and down the strap.

“Nothing, at the moment. There’s still a lot of contents we need to sort. The spare room and Aunt Fay’s bedroom have to be cleaned out.”

It was almost a year since Aunt Fay’s death. Kate knew her sister desperately wanted to sell the place. She had no doubt that when Violet’s husband deserted her six months ago, he had left with much more than he brought to the marriage. He had also cleaned out Violet’s bank account. Violet was scraping by. Although Kate felt sorry for her, she also was disappointed in her sister. Everyone had warned Violet about Donald Meyers and how he was an untrustworthy person, known for worming himself into the hearts of the women he dated and taking the most he could get from the relationships. Including money. But Violet, dear naïve Violet, had been crazy enough to marry the loser, and now she was paying the price.

“Can’t you just forget about those worthless belongings? Most of it’s junk. What about selling it all?’

It took all of Kate’s patience to stay calm and focused. “We’ve discussed it many times, Violet. If I can help it, I don’t want to sell. The land there is exquisite and leads directly to the backwaters. I’d like to buy you out.”

“I don’t have the time you’ll need to get the money.” Violet’s voice was a whine now. She threw up her hands in frustration. “You have me saddled with an old broken-down house and expenses I don’t need, nor want.”

“I told you I’d take care of them. I’ll pay the taxes and utilities.”

“You’re always so selfish, Kate. Everything in the world isn’t always about you and what you want. Aunt Fay left it to both of us. It should be a fair and equal decision.”

Kate felt herself become more uncomfortable by the minute as her sister’s insinuations grew sharper. Lately, there was something not quite right. Violet seemed to be getting more and more agitated over the smallest things. “You really don’t believe Aunt Fay
wanted
us to sell? The reason she left us the insurance policy was to be sure we could pay the inheritance taxes. The house has been in our family for four generations, Violet, dating back to the 1920s.”

“Humpf. I don’t give a fig about what our relatives or Aunt Fay wanted. They’re all dead! I think she’d want what was best for all of us. Not just one person—you.” She whirled and started for the door, then turned back. “I suggest you think about all this. Give it some
serious
thought for a change and stop being so egotistical and pig-headed.” She turned and stormed out the back door. Kate winced as the door slammed with an ear-shattering bang.

Chapter Three

It was in the middle of the lunch hour when Kate packaged a half dozen donuts and freshly baked scones, slipped off her pink and white striped apron, and waved to Melanie before slipping out the door to head to the marina. In spite of the hectic morning, thoughts of Tappe had intruded into all aspects of her work day. She had stolen a moment to call Foster’s Hardware and Plumbing and learned Jim had not charged her for the visit to retrieve her ring since Tappe had generously agreed to help free of charge.

On her way to the docks, Tappe’s words haunted her.
Whoever he is, he’s a lucky guy.
The words gave her a warm feeling he might still care, but on the flip side they held a hint of despair he might no longer be interested. She couldn’t wait to get to the marina, find him, and clear up his mistaken assumption she was engaged to be married.

The day was destined to be hot. Heat waves shimmered in the air when Kate pulled into the marina and parked. Overhead, gulls cried and wheeled over the roof of the main building of the marina, heading toward the ocean. The marina was really a collection of buildings: a fish cleaning shack, a two-story store and main building where rentals were managed and tackle was sold, and a boat storage building complete with lifts and a repair area.

Skirting the main building by a worn, bleached gray boardwalk lined with wire crab traps, Kate headed to the wharf leading to the waters where Tappe was hosing down the farthest section of a dock. It was a busy, preferred one where commercial fishing boats delivered fresh seafood—shrimp, oysters, clams, crabs, and fish—to the local restaurants and stopped to refuel, enlist mechanical help for repairs, replace bait and tackle, or grab some drinks and snacks from the marina’s cooler. Tappe wore ragged cut-off jeans, a faded blue tank top, and worn flip flops. His well-muscled body moved in an easy methodical gait flowing as smoothly as if he were part of the waters around him.

Even with his back to her, he must have felt her presence, because he turned, pointing the hose downward and shutting the nozzle off. That was when she heard Eva May’s squeaky voice behind her. “Oh, goodie. I hope you’re holding a delivery from your shop. I just love your baked goods. And your timing is perfect for dessert, isn’t it, Tappe?”

Stunned, Kate turned to see Eva May slipping off a barrel with a take-out lunch bag from the Shrimp Shack. A thin woman, with spindly legs, a sharp nose, and short spiky white blonde hair, Eva May Poole reminded Kate of the ibis birds on the golf courses and along the marshes, peck, peck, pecking at the ground in search of larvae and beetles to enhance their diet of crayfish. And of all the people in Little Heron Shores, she was the last person Kate expected to see at the marina. Eva May had never been fond of water. But then, Eva May never kept it a secret she was on the look-out for good eligible men. Just because her first two marriages failed, it didn’t mean the third couldn’t be the charm, she had declared on many occasions and to anyone with enough stamina to withstand more than a minute’s conversation with her. Kate imagined Tappe Vanderberg’s return to town would turn a lot of female heads his way—Eva May’s included.

Tappe moved up the dock and stopped before her. His mouth curved into a leisurely smile and his hazel eyes, rimmed with green flecks in the sunlight, brightened and widened in pleasure. With the back of his hand, he wiped the sweat forming on his forehead, pushing his wayward hair aside. “Fine morning. Certainly getting better.”

Kate could hardly focus under his intense gaze as he measured her with a warm appraising look from the tips of her jeweled flip flops to her white tank top with a pink butterfly on her chest. Her heart slammed against her chest and she stuttered. “I—I wanted to thank you for helping the other day. The ring means a lot to me. I brought you some sweets from the bakery. Glazed donuts and summer apricot scones. Your favorite.” She thrust the bag toward him.

“Thanks. I was planning to stop at your shop and grab something for breakfast, but I needed to be down here early today to help with a shrimp boat needing an engine tune-up.” His gaze zeroed in on hers, and a wave of heat passed between them that Kate was certain had nothing to do with the sweltering day.

“I was really sorry to hear about your aunt’s death. I wasn’t in the States when she died, but Dad told me half the town turned out for her funeral.” His voice dropped in volume, and there was sorrow in his eyes. “Fay was always like a second mother to me. She’ll be sorely missed. I swear she fed me more meals during the summer than my mother.”

Kate nodded and her bottom lip trembled. She avoided looking at him, blinking back tears and focusing past him to the backwaters stretching for miles and miles to the horizon. High above, the sun played hide and seek between bands of billowing white clouds. Her aunt had dedicated her entire life to raising Violet and her. And when Kate had indicated she wanted to get a degree in business, Fay had sold off parts of the two hundred acres belonging to the old homestead to make sure her education would be paid for.

Finally, after she was composed enough, Kate straightened her shoulders and lifted her gaze, surprised to find the edgy current of warmth between them hadn’t waned. Nervous, she took a step backward. “Well, I—I guess I should get going. You have work to do, and I left Melanie to handle the noon crowd alone.”

“Kate.” He reached for her, but she took another step back, stumbling and righting herself—and almost colliding with Eva May Poole.

Eva May’s high-pitched voice broke their emotionally charged connection. “Since Kate has to run along, I guess it means you and I’ll have to polish off dessert before my lunch hour ends, huh?” Giggling, she boldly grabbed the bag from Tappe’s hand and shook it. “Oh, goody, goody!”

“Well, enjoy.” Heart thumping, Kate spun around and retreated up the dock on shaking legs. She was almost to the corner of the marina building when Tappe called out to her, his voice low and husky.

“I’d like to sit down and talk, Kate. Get caught up. When you have a few moments.”

“Sure,” Kate called over her shoulder. With Eva May hovering, she was too embarrassed to try to explain herself and the misconception about the ring. She felt like kicking herself for being such a coward, but she also knew the last person she wanted involved in any conversation when setting a record straight was Eva May and her blabbering mouth.

Minutes later, back at the coffee shop, while she watched Melanie move efficiently behind the counter making three large mocha mint lattes for a take-out order, Kate confessed her encounter with Tappe.

“You didn’t tell him
again
?” Melanie’s red nails flashed as she snapped the lids on the steaming cups and placed them in a take-out container, tucking napkins in with the order.

“I couldn’t.” Kate frowned, reached for some packages of sugar and sweetener, and began to refill the empty holders on the counter. “It was extremely awkward with Eva May having lunch with him and flapping around like a sand crane doing a mating dance.”

“I can’t believe you let Eva May dictate what was happening.”

“Eva May
was
the happening.” Kate’s lips thinned in irritation. “Discretion is a learned skill, you know.”

“I don’t know whether discretion is the right way to roll when you’re around Eva May.” Melanie made two cups of iced coffee, set them on the counter, and returned the milk carton to the refrigerator. She shoved one cup toward Kate and rounded the counter to sit down beside her. “The girl has an I.Q. lower than a first class postage stamp. I’m surprised she landed a job in the post office. You have to read and count change, don’t you? Remember when she superglued her fingers to her hair in high school art class?”

“And you were only too eager to cut them loose as I recall. She had holes in her hair for a year.”

“Listen, it wasn’t my idea to let her use the good stuff. That girl should be supervised using glue sticks.” Melanie nudged her. “So spill. Is he still the hot stuff he was in high school?”

“Even better.”

“Spark is still there, huh?”

It was, but Kate would never admit it until she had time to explore her feelings. She gestured to the open books lined up along the counter. “Have you found any recipes we can use?”

“Nice diversion tactic.” Melanie slid off the stool and leaned against the counter. “Yes. Did you know there are vintage recipes for strawberry bread, muffins, scones, and cake? I thought since February is strawberry month, we’d use them as our specialty dessert for the Valentine’s Day Festival. They are sweet, red, and fit the theme. In fact, there are a multitude of recipe ideas in these books.” Melanie ripped a napkin into pieces and inserted them into the open pages, bookmarking the places, and stacking the books into a pile. “We can come up with some tasty bakery goods for the entire week. They are unique, but not difficult to make.”