Nantucket Romance 3-in-1 Bundle (86 page)
Deciding to call it an evening, Sabrina shut down the program and gathered her things. When she entered the living room, Tucker was in the corner, carving a piece of wood that didn’t yet resemble anything. He smiled as she entered the room, lowering his tool.
“I’m finished for the night,” she said. “Can I use your phone?” If she could call a cab before Tucker offered her a ride, she wouldn’t risk him seeing Arielle. Why hadn’t she brought her cell phone?
“Something wrong?”
A crack of thunder sounded in the distance. “I need to call a cab.”
Don’t offer. Please don’t offer.
She picked up the phone, then realized she’d have to look up the number. The phone book sat on the table under the phone.
He set down the block of wood. “I’ll give you a lift.”
She flipped open the yellow pages. “No, don’t worry about it.” While she waited for the cab, she could initiate her plan.
He stood. “Really, I don’t mind.”
There were too many cab companies to choose from. She picked one and dialed. “It’s okay.” She imagined him pulling up to her apartment at the same time Arielle arrived home. The thought sent a shiver of dread through her.
He took the phone from her and turned it off.
Why’d he have to be so persistent? She glared at him. “Why’d you do that?”
“It’s pouring rain. Every tourist in town is calling for a cab, and you’ll have a two-hour wait.” He grabbed his keys from the table, then turned, giving her a look she couldn’t decipher. “Unless you want to hang around for a couple more hours.”
The thought was more tempting than he’d ever know. What choice did she have now?
Huffing, Sabrina headed toward the door. Anyway, what were the chances he’d see Arielle? It was pouring rain. She was probably taking a warm bath by now, or snuggled on the couch, watching the latest chick flick.
As soon as Tucker packed her bike in the trunk and backed the car from the drive, the rain let up. Naturally.
“How far are you with the letters?” he asked.
She’d just come to the one where she’d confided about her dad’s death. He was the only person other than Jared whom she’d told. But she didn’t want to talk about that. “Lots of back-and-forth stuff.”
“She’s fun to dialogue with.” Sabrina could hear the smile in his voice. “Has a great sense of humor, don’t you think?”
No one had ever told her that before. But then, she didn’t let loose around just anyone. “You think?”
He propped one hand on the console between them, inches from her thigh. “She has a sarcastic streak a mile wide. A dry sense of humor.”
Sabrina shifted away. “I suppose.” The wipers arched across the windshield.
“She’s witty and intelligent, has a great vocabulary . . .”
He was hitting too close to home. “I didn’t notice.” Her throat was dry as dirt.
He grinned, stealing her breath with that crooked smile. “That’s because you have a great vocabulary.”
In town there were tourists clustered under awnings, waiting for the rain to stop.
Tucker braked as a man and woman darted across the road. The man slung his arm around the woman, and they laughed as they ducked through the rain. Sabrina wondered if the couple was as happy as they seemed.
She remembered how it felt to be wrapped in a man’s arms. To feel secure and loved. She missed that.
“I contacted the host of Nantucket Chat,” Tucker said. “Did I mention that?”
“What for?”
Tucker accelerated through the crosswalk. “He knows the identity of all the members. When you sign up to participate, you have to give your name and contact information.”
Why hadn’t she thought of that? “What did he say?”
“He said the information is confidential.”
She started breathing again. “That’s too bad.”
“I haven’t given up yet. You still have a few months of messages to wade through, and there’s always the chance she’ll change her mind, right?”
She folded her arms around her stomach. “Actually, I think I may have found some significant details.”
“Really?”
“The clues are spread apart, but I think she might be from Ohio.”
“Really?”
Why was her heart beating so fast? “She mentions being a Reds fan, and she said something about the Cincinnati airport being in Kentucky. Most people wouldn’t know that, right? And she mentions a pretzel festival. I looked it up online, and there’s one in Germantown, Ohio, every September.”
“There are probably pretzel festivals in other states.”
“Maybe, but like I said, it’s the cumulative factor. The Reds, the airport, the festival. There are other tidbits that go along with the Ohio theory, too, and nothing to contradict it so far.” Of course, Ohio was plenty big, and there weren’t enough clues to pin down a particular city. When she was finished, he’d see they were at a dead end.
“There’s the beach photo,” he said.
She was ready for that one. “It may have been a lake. The waves were small. It could be Lake Erie or any number of lakes. It could also have been taken while she was on vacation.”
He pulled into her drive. “I guess you’re right.”
“So we should definitely focus on Ohio. Maybe I can pin it down to a city as I read further.” Sabrina looked at her apartment window. The blinds were up, but the living room was dark except for the faint glow of the TV.
Stay away from the window, Arielle.
The gravel popped under the tires as Tucker pulled the car to a stop and put it in Park. She reached for the handle. The sooner she got him out of there, the better.
“Wait.” He set his hand on her forearm.
She turned and faced him. His palm was warm on her wrist, the heat of it sizzling a path up her arm. She waited for him to say something, afraid and eager at the same time.
“Thanks for what you’re doing. I appreciate your help and your confidentiality.”
“No problem.” She glanced at her apartment. So far, so good. The rain was merely a drizzle now.
He was still holding her arm. She wondered what he’d do if she turned her hand over and twined her fingers through his. She itched to do it. Would he return the touch? She longed to be connected to him. Letters only allowed so much intimacy. She missed the personal contact. The touching. The security of an embrace. Would it be so awful to take the risk and see what happened?
But even as the thought formed, a memory rose, unbidden. A foreign touch, the smell of alcohol, the chill of a cold sheet.
Sabrina knotted her hand into a fist.
Tucker’s hand slid down to hers, and he squeezed her closed fist. “You okay?”
She nodded, finding her voice. “Just tired.” She glanced up at the window. A light came on. She looked at Tucker, but he was studying her hand. Thank God he hadn’t seen.
“You always wear this.” His fingers found the
S
charm on her bracelet.
The bracelet had once been a symbol of love. Now it was a reminder of loss. A tangible warning that some risks weren’t worth the cost.
Sabrina pulled her hand away. “It was a gift.” She pressed her lips together. She needed to get out of there before she said too much. Before she ruined what progress she’d made tonight. She reached for the handle and opened the door.
“I’ll get your bike.”
She followed him around to the back of the car, and he set the bike at her feet.
“Well, regardless of how this turns out, I’ve enjoyed getting to know you.”
He was sounding as if this project was winding down. He must be buying her Ohio theory. “There goes my mysterious air.”
“Oh, you got plenty of mystery left, don’t you worry.”
“Who’s worried?” She reached for the bike’s handles.
He laughed, deep and throaty. “Goodnight, Mystery Woman.”
“Goodnight,” she called, wheeling the bike toward the garage. Even as she scurried through the drizzle, she couldn’t stop the smile that formed on her lips.
Tucker pulled from the drive, still smiling. So she hadn’t admitted who she was . . . But she was still coming over every night.
Ohio. He shook his head. Well, at least he was spending time with her. She was opening up a little. Okay, so it was a minute amount, but it was something. Ten more years and she’d be an open book.
He breathed a laugh. He had time. He still had a few tricks up his sleeve, and she had four months of letters to wade through. Plus, the list of messages was getting longer every day as they continued to write. In fact, he’d write her when he got home. After all, the more they wrote, the longer she’d be around.
Harbormaster: After my sister’s accident, I took her to physical therapy for months and tried to distract her from the pain. Once I got really stupid and stuck a Tic Tac up my nose. An ER tech had to remove it. Good news: It did get a laugh from my sister. What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done?
Sweetpea: Go on my honeymoon alone.
“I’m going for a jog,” Sabrina called to Arielle the next evening.
“Run a mile for me.” Arielle changed the channel to a house-flipping program and settled into the sofa.
Sabrina trotted down the steps and walked down the lane at a brisk pace, warming her muscles. She couldn’t stay home tonight. The emails she’d read earlier brought back too much, and it would drive her crazy to sit around dwelling on it.
When she reached the street, she turned toward town and settled into a slow jog. She felt guilty leaving Arielle home alone, but she needed to run tonight like she needed oxygen.
The heat of the day hadn’t yet given way to the evening coolness, and the warm air burned her lungs as it came and went. When she reached town, she set a punishing pace, turning down Pleasant Street, hoping to avoid the worst of the traffic.
Daylight was fading, and the summer people were exiting rented homes, clicking down sidewalks in their heels toward their supper reservations. She navigated around such a couple as she crossed Main Street. The woman wore a filmy ivory dress, and the man matched her in his linen suit. They looked like they belonged in a Nantucket ad.
Sabrina hitched her sleeves up her shoulders, thankful for the breeze that whispered across her skin, even if it was warm. She wondered what Tucker was doing right now. Was he on his deck, enjoying the same breeze? Enjoying the way the evening light danced on the surface of the water?
She couldn’t get out of there fast enough tonight. It had been disturbing to read that email, the message that had sealed her fate. The message that ensured Sabrina and Tucker could never be more than online friends. Even now, it replayed in her mind, words committed to heart, not by will, but by sheer repetition.
Tracey called today. She wasn’t this despondent even after her accident, and I feel helpless to do anything about it. She’s divorcing Sebastian.
Her mind flashed back to the first time she’d read the email, her heart skipping in response to the memory. It was the first time he’d mentioned his brother-in-law’s name. The first time she’d realized that the terrible mistake she’d made had consequences that reached further than she imagined.
Her thoughts washed back farther in time to the night she’d arrived on Nantucket. To the night she’d met Sebastian.
She’d never felt more alone than she had upon entering the cavernous honeymoon suite at the White Elephant. The room featured a giant bed with puffy pillows, a fireplace, and an ocean view. On the table by the door, a bottle of champagne chilled in a bucket. Everything about the suite said “romance.”
Her suitcase hit the floor with a thud, and she sank into the first chair she reached. She should’ve called ahead and told the hotel she was alone. Even with her aunt’s help, there’d been so many things to do in the six days since she’d found Jaylee and Jared. Cancellations, phone calls, gifts to return. She hadn’t realized how drained she was, how utterly empty, until this moment, sitting in the darkness in her honeymoon suite.
The amount of money her aunt and uncle had lost was mind-boggling. Sabrina tried not to feel guilty. It was Jaylee and Jared’s fault, not hers. Both of them had tried repeatedly to contact her, but after one phone call with Jared, she was done with them both. What could they say to change things now?