Nantucket Romance 3-in-1 Bundle (98 page)

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Authors: Denise Hunter

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BOOK: Nantucket Romance 3-in-1 Bundle
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“Huh,” Arielle said.

The server came and took their orders. The restaurant was noisy, the clatter of scraping utensils and the loud hum of too many conversations. It was giving Tucker a headache.

“So, what happened after the kiss, if you don’t mind my asking.”

“She pushed me away and asked me to take her home.”

Arielle frowned. “That’s it?”

He decided to skip the part about his heart beating madly. “That’s it.”

Arielle sipped her tea. “Huh,” she said again when she set down her glass.

That’s all he got?
Huh
? Weren’t women supposed to have insight into each other’s souls? They were cousins; she had to know something.

“She thinks you’re cheating on her,” Arielle said.

“What?”

Arielle took a white bottle from her cavernous bag, unscrewed the lid and dumped green powder into her water. It turned cloudy.

“You’re supposed to be in love with Sweetpea, who you’re supposed to think is me, and yet you went out with her and put the moves on her.” She stirred the water and took a sip.

The stuff looked like algae water. Tucker grimaced.
And steak
makes her ill?

“She thinks you’re cheating on her,” Arielle said.

“You mean on Sweetpea?”

“Who is supposed to be me.”

Tucker rubbed the back of his neck. For crying out loud.

“She feels betrayed.”

“By her own self?”

“Think about it. You’re not supposed to know she’s Sweetpea, so what’s she supposed to think when you’re in love with Sweetpea, yet kiss her?”

So complicated. When had life gotten so complicated? What sense did Arielle’s speculation make? How could he cheat on Sabrina with Sabrina? Though, in a wacky sort of way, it made sense when you figured Sabrina didn’t know he knew. He rubbed his eyes.

“I have a tincture for headaches if you want to try it.”

He looked at the disgusting green water. “If it’s anything like that, I’ll stick to Tylenol, thank you.”

She shrugged, capped the white bottle, and tossed it into the cavity of her bag.

“So what now?” he asked. “What am I supposed to do?” Arielle was her cousin. Surely she had some insight, some idea about how to make Sabrina crack.

“You connected online, and that’s comfortable for Sabrina. That’s your only real connection at this point. I suggest you go back to that.”

“I want a real relationship with her.”

Arielle gulped down the green stuff, gave a tiny shudder, then followed up with a sip of tea. “You just work on the relationship where she’s comfortable.” She smiled furtively. “And leave the rest to me.”

Sweetpea: Have you ever told anyone about our letters?

Harbormaster: Just my sister.

Chapter Twenty-eight

Sabrina heard the ding of a message hitting her inbox and realized she’d forgotten to reduce the volume before turning in. She wasn’t sleeping anyway. She crawled out from under the covers and crept into the living room. Arielle, a shadowed lump on the couch, breathed a soft snore.

Sabrina slid into the chair and moved the mouse, awakening the computer. It was Tucker.

Are you awake? he’d written
.

Like she could sleep after fretting over Tucker and Arielle all night. Her cousin had returned with a mysterious grin that left Sabrina with an empty ache.

Yes.

Sabrina had wanted to ask Arielle how their date went. But each time the words had caught in her throat. What if she didn’t want to know? A new message arrived with a ding. Sabrina muted the volume, then opened the message.

Wanna chat awhile?

Yes, she typed.

What was Tucker thinking about right now? Was he remembering his night with Arielle? Was he thinking about how beautiful she was in her gauzy white shirt and fitted jeans? Another message arrived.

Are you going to answer all my questions with a yes?

She smiled.

Yes.

It had been a while since they’d chatted on email. She missed it. She missed him. Her thoughts turned to the kiss they’d shared on the boat the night before. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel his lips on hers.
You have got to stop this! It’s getting you nowhere.

She opened her eyes to a new message.

In that case, I’ll have to come up with something more consequential to ask.

Her stomach fluttered. What would he want if he could ask anything, knowing her answer would be yes?

She placed her hands over the keyboard.

I’ll ask the questions here. .. If you had one wish, anything you wanted, what would it be? Something for yourself—not world peace.

She sent the message and leaned back, ready for a wait. Instead, an email popped right back.

You first.

She smiled. No fair. She wrote the first thing that came to mind.

To be beautiful.

She sent the message, then wished she could reach into cyberspace and retrieve it. He would say she was beautiful because he thought she was Arielle. And Sabrina didn’t want to hear him rave about Arielle’s beauty.

She opened his reply with trepidation.

You have a lasting beauty, soul-deep. The kind that won’t fade with age. Save your wish for something you need.

Sabrina reread his answer. Not what she’d expected. He hadn’t raved about Arielle’s beautiful smile or her gorgeous hair. His words warmed her.

She poised her fingers over the keys.

Your turn.

She speculated about what he’d say. More time to enjoy life? A family of his own? She realized she didn’t know what Tucker wanted most, and that surprised her after all the hours, all the letters. How had they not discussed this before?

His message arrived, and she opened it eagerly.

I want to know you more.

What could he mean? They did know each other well. And he was now seeing her in person, or so he thought. She wanted to ask, but reconsidered.

Maybe you’d be disappointed.

She sent the message, then feared it had been a mistake. Before the anxiety peaked, she got his reply.

Never.

Sabrina closed her eyes. If only it were true. If only things were different.

This conversation was getting out of hand. It was getting scary. She needed to change the subject.

Tell me something about you that I don’t know.

Maybe he’d tell her how he’d gotten the scar between the knuckles of his right hand. Or maybe he’d tell her about his first dance or his favorite place to think.

The email appeared in her inbox, and she clicked it open.

I love you.

Her lungs constricted, pinching off her air supply, making her next breath impossible. Her lungs were too big for her chest. Her skin too tight for her heart. The words, blurred on the screen.

The cursor’s arrow pointed to the words, emphasizing them. He’d never said it before, when she was just Sweetpea. Why couldn’t he have said it before Arielle had come? She wanted full claim on the words, wanted to snatch them up, draw them close like a favorite blanket.

But the words didn’t belong to her. They were Arielle’s.

Would Tucker have said them if he knew who she was? She didn’t have to answer, didn’t even want to. Had he told Arielle tonight? Is that what caused her mysterious smile?

Then she remembered the question that had preceded his words. She’d asked him to reveal something she didn’t know. He couldn’t have told Arielle. But what if he said it tomorrow night or the next? What if Arielle was falling for him too?

Another message appeared. Her pulse raced like a boat hitting the open sea.

I don’t expect you to say anything. I just wanted you to know.

The truth was, and she couldn’t deny it any longer, she loved him too. God help her, but she did.

You can’t tell him
. Yes, she knew that too. There was nothing she could say. Her breath came in quick puffs, drying her mouth. She had to put an end to this conversation before she found herself in deeper waters.

She took the mouse, her fingers trembling, and clicked on the
X
, closing the program before she did something really foolish—like telling Tucker the truth.

Sweetpea: My aunt and cousins keep trying to reach me. If I avoid them, will they go away? Sorry to be so snarky. I was never good at conflict resolution.

Chapter Twenty-nine

Only when Sabrina saw Tucker ambling toward his table did she realize she’d been hoping he wouldn’t have the audacity to show. But there he was, seating himself at his usual table, looking too handsome, turning that crooked grin on Oliver.

Just the one peek of him with his cap pulled low over his curls sent her traitorous mind back to the boat where she’d been within arm’s reach of heaven.
Deep breaths, Sabrina. Deep breaths.

Resolutely, she grabbed the coffee and headed his way.
It’s just
another day at the café, another morning pouring coffee for Tucker, pretending
I’m just his server.
Never mind his lips had been locked on hers two brief days ago.

Not helpful.

Mercifully, Oliver’s mug needed to be topped. Two extra seconds’ stalling time. “Thanks, Sabrina.”

She drew a deep breath and turned.
Just another day
. . . “Good morning, Tucker.”
Pour coffee. Do not make eye contact. Do not pass go.
Do not collect two hundred kisses.

Dollars.

“Sabrina.” He nodded, or at least, she thought he did.

“I was wondering . . .” he began.

The kitchen bell dinged. Saved by the bell. “Excuse me.” She rushed toward the window, but it was Char’s order.

“I’ll get it,” Sabrina told the server, who was in the middle of making coffee.

“Thanks, hon.”

No problem. She had to stay busy. Very, very busy. Her mind rewound Tucker’s last words. What had he been fixing to say?
“I was
wondering . . .”

If we could talk?

If I could explain?

If we could go back to the break room and make out?

Bad, Sabrina.

She delivered the tray of food, and when three more tables filled in her station, she nearly shouted with glee. Thank God for summer people. They ran her for ketchup, extra napkins, and refills, and she was happy to oblige.

Her contact with Tucker the next half hour was limited to filling his mug twice, as she passed his table. Then finally, he was checking his watch.
Better go, Tucker. Can’t be late for work.

A few minutes later, the bell over the door jingled, signaling his departure, and Sabrina felt the weight of an oil barge lift off her shoulders.

The day was exhausting. The café hopped, but the tips were worth the hard work. By the time she pulled into her drive, however, she was ready for a brisk jog. Arielle had borrowed her bike to ride the Surfside bike path to the other side of the island so she’d be gone awhile. It was the perfect time to slip away and—

Someone was sitting on the steps to her loft. At the sound of her tires on the gravel, Tucker straightened from his slump.

Her heart found a new gear and, unfortunately, it wasn’t Reverse. What was he doing here? He must be waiting for Arielle, but her cousin wouldn’t be home until this evening. Why wasn’t he at work?

She turned off the engine and exited the car, steeling herself against his boyish charm. Her eyes flickered over his broad shoulders and the thick forearms that rested on his jean-clad knees. Nothing boyish there.

A-hem
.

“Sabrina.” He pulled his cap off and stood.

“Tucker. Arielle’s out for a bike ride, and I don’t imagine she’ll be back for a while.” She moved toward the steps, but a body was in her way.

He put a hand on the railing, further blocking her path.

Sabrina hitched her purse strap higher, impatient to pass. Impatient to hide in her apartment.

“I came to see you,” he said. Those eyes said things that held hers captive.

She cleared her throat and tore her gaze away. “You saw me this morning.”

“I wanted to talk about the other night.”

Oh, boy
. She didn’t want to go there. “I—uh—I was going to—”
Go for a jog
.
Wash my hair. Organize my sock drawer.

“It’ll just take a minute.” He shuffled his cap in his hands, turning it in clockwise circles. He was nervous?

Well, he should be. He was the one who—“Sit down a minute? Please?”

At one glimpse of his baby blues, her mouth went dry. So not fair. Her trembling legs gave way, and she settled beside him. His shoulder bumped hers as he sat, and she edged sideways, which put her knees against his thigh. She shifted again.

Get through this. Hear him out. It’ll be over in a few minutes, and
you’ll be pounding the pavement in no time.

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