Seaside Kisses: A Sweet Romance (The Seaside Hunters Book 4) (16 page)

Rafael didn't want to interrupt Amara, so he decided to see what he could do first. There was a piece behind the taffy that he
might
be able to reach if he was careful. It appeared to stick out beyond the other gears. He reached his arm in, but as the bars pulled the taffy, he almost had yellow, sticky candy on his new shirt. He pulled his arm back quickly, hitting himself in the side. If he'd known he might be getting messy, he would have picked a different outfit.

The clanging grew even louder, and he couldn't image the noise being typical.

"Amara, can you come here?" he called over the few remaining kids in the shop.

A chorus of goodbyes sounded before the bell over the door. The candy shop became quiet now that the kids were gone.

Amara came back. "Is everything okay?"

"Is it supposed to sound like this?"

A loud pop exploded near Rafael, followed by metal scraping against metal inside the contraption.

Amara's eyes widened and she ran for the machine, going around to the other side. More scratching and banging noises screamed from inside the metal panels.

"It won't turn off," she cried.

Rafael hurried over to her. She tugged on a little metal knob, her face reddening.

"Let me try," he said. She moved over and he gripped it, pulling both ways, but it was stuck. "Which way is it supposed to go?"

"Right."

He pulled harder to the right, but it wouldn't budge.

"Is there another way to shut it down?" he asked.

A loud pop sounded next to Rafael's ear. He turned and saw one of the pieces that pulled the taffy flying through the air—seemingly in slow motion—right for Amara's head. It was large enough to do real damage.

He jumped in front of her, shoving her out of the way. She stumbled back, crashing into a display of chocolate witch heads. Half of them fell onto the ground as she tried to steady herself.

The bar full of bright orange taffy hit Rafael in the shoulder, digging deep. He couldn't tell if it cut the skin, but the pain was sharp and searing. He let out a gasp and reached for his wound as the taffy ran down his front, leaving a trail of orange down his deep turquoise shirt, black pants, and finally his shoes.

The pain in his shoulder intensified and he noticed a trail of red making its way down, mixing with the candy.

"Are you okay?" Amara asked.

Rafael turned to her. "Fine. How are you?"

She stood up straight and brushed off her clothes. "I'm—you're bleeding!"

"It's nothing." He wiped his shirt, but his shoulder was so tender, he winced.

Amara's eyes widened. "Let me see."

"Really, I'm okay."

She ran over to him, staring at his shirt. "It looks like you're losing a lot of blood."

The taffy machine made a screaming noise.

"Just find a way to shut that off," he said.

Amara's face lit up. "The plug." She ran to the other side of it and soon, everything went quiet.

Rafael leaned over and picked up the gooey mess at his feet. "Let me help you get this cleaned up."

She looked at him like he was crazy. "We've got to get you over to the urgent care clinic."

"Not before the taffy sticks to your carpet and ruins it."

Amara shook her head. "I don't care about that. Let me see your cut." She came over to him and unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt.

Despite the searing pain in his shoulder, his heart raced over her starting to take off his shirt, even though he knew it wasn't anything romantic. Her mouth dropped after she'd undone the third button. "We definitely need to get you to the clinic. Now."

"Is the machine—?"

"Forget the taffy," she said.

"I just want to make sure it's not going to catch on fire and burn down your business."

Amara shook her head. "It's unplugged."

"Doesn't mean it can't burst into flames."

She sniffed. "I can't smell anything. We need to go. I'll drive you."

"You can't close down your shop this time of year."

Amara's eyebrows came together. "And you can't drive yourself."

"I can walk. It's not that far."

She shook her head. "You think I'm going to let you walk through town like that?"

"You're sure stubborn," he said. "Let me clean this up, and then you can drive me. But then I want you to just drop me off and come back here. Deal?"

Amara's mouth curved down as she appeared to consider it. "Fine. Deal."

Rafael could tell she didn't mean it.

Seventeen

Amara pulled into a parking spot in the parking garage across from the urgent care clinic. If Rafael thought she was just going back to the store while he sat in the waiting room with a massive gash—thanks to her taffy machine—he had another think coming.

She pulled out her phone and called Alex, filling him in what happened as she walked through the garage and across the street.

Alex sighed on the other end of the phone. "I knew I should have had that thing looked at. Is he going to be okay?"

"I think he's going to need stitches."

"That sucks," Alex said. "Look. I'll call Wes McLanahan and have him check out the machine. Hopefully, it can be fixed. If I need to go to the shop, I will."

"But everyone's throwing up, Alex. You have to take care of them."

"Someone has to let Wes in."

Amara wanted to scream. "Can you give me an hour? Once they get Rafael in, I'll go back to the shop. He can text me when I need to pick him up."

"Are you sure?" Alex asked.

"Yeah. Let's just do that."

"Okay. I'll tell Wes one hour."

"Thanks. Send everyone my love."

"Will do," Alex said. "If you need me, just let me know."

"Okay." Amara ended the call and went inside. Rafael sat in a chair facing a fish tank. She took the chair next to him.

He shook his head. "I knew you wouldn't go back to the store."

"Not when you're injured because of me."

Rafael raised an eyebrow. "It's not your fault."

"My taffy machine attacked you."

He sat taller. "It would have hit you in the head if I hadn't gotten you out of the way."

Amara rubbed her sore back, where it had dug into the side of the wooden display. "I appreciate that. I can't imagine if that would have been my head. Are you still bleeding?"

Rafael lifted the towel he had over his cut. "Yep."

Amara frowned. "They can't get you in now?"

He pressed the towel back against his shoulder. "There are more critical cases ahead of me. I'll be okay. You really should get back to the store. I don't want you losing sales because of me."

She shrugged. "We need to get the machine fixed first, anyway."

"What are you going to do about it?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. Wes McLanahan is going to look at it, and then we'll decide. Alex and I have known for a while that we might just have to retire it, so it's not a huge loss. He's been wanting to see if he could build one himself, and this gives him the perfect excuse."

"What will you do with this one?" Rafael asked.

"We thought about either displaying it or donating it to the Kittle museum. It's part of the town's history." She glanced at his orange covered clothes. "Sorry about the taffy getting all over you."

"It's nothing," he said. "Like I said, I'm just glad you didn't get hurt. If that metal would have hit you in the head…" He shuddered.

Heat ran through Amara. She couldn't get over how genuinely concerned he was about her. "Well, I owe you."

He raised an eyebrow. "No you don't. I'm just glad I was there."

"I need to take you out for dinner as a thanks."

Rafael's mouth curved up. "I suppose I can agree to that."

She laughed. "You suppose?"

"Usually, a good deed should be just that. But I can't turn down dinner with you."

Amara's face warmed.

A nurse came out and called Rafael's name.

"Text me when you're done," Amara said. "I've got to meet Wes to let him in the store."

He took her hand and squeezed. "Thanks, Amara." He stood and walked over to the nurse.

Amara watched as he disappeared through a doorway. She sighed, wishing she could go in with him, but at least they had a dinner date. Not to mention the fashion show.

Her phone alerted her that she had a text. It was from Alex.

Wes is on his way. He couldn't wait an hour. You'll be able to be there?

On my way.

That was good timing. Amara hurried to her car and made it to her shop just as their family friend did.

"Hi, Amara," Wes said, walking toward the store. "I hear you're having some problems with the taffy machine."

"You could say that." She unlocked the door and let them in. "It's in the back."

"Let's have a look." He followed her, and then stopped when he saw the mess. "Wow. I can't say I've ever seen anything quite like that. Can you tell me everything that happened?"

"I was giving a demonstration for a field trip. At first everything was going fine. I noticed it was making some unusual noises, but I didn't think anything of it. The kids—"

"Sorry to interrupt," Wes said. "What kind of noises?"

"Um… Clanging and pinging, I guess. It's hard to explain."

"Okay. I'll have a look. If you need to work, feel free. I've got this."

Amara nodded, and then went to the front and turned the open sign on. It wasn't ideal, but business needed to go on. She went back to the bathroom to make sure there were no messes since that's where Rafael had gone to get towels for his cut. She glanced around, but was certain it was cleaner than it had been before he went in. She'd expected to find a drop of blood or two, or maybe some sticky taffy somewhere.

The bell above the door sounded, so she went out front to greet the customers. The shop filled quickly—easily making up for the lost business while she was out. There wasn't time to stop for a while. When she finally sat, her stomach rumbled.

Amara checked her phone. Sure enough, it was past lunchtime. And Rafael hadn't texted her. Amara's heart sank. Something had to be wrong.

She sent him a text.
Is everything okay?

Yeah. Just stitches.

I'll come get you.

No. I walked to my care and drove home. Want some lunch?

Amara smiled. He was so sweet
. Thanks, but you should rest.

No. The shop's packed.

It IS almost Halloween.

Rafael sent laughing smilies.
I'll be over soon with food.

Thanks, Rafael.

My pleasure.

Amara read over the conversation before sliding the phone into her pocket. She couldn't believe he'd walked all that way after having just received stitches, and now he was offering her lunch and to help her out.

Butterflies danced in her stomach and she let out a slow sigh.

"Everything okay?" came a voice from behind.

Amara turned around to see Wes. She'd forgotten he was there. "Yeah, just taking a break."

"I think I've got her fixed."

"Her? You mean the machine."

Wes nodded. "Want to see?"

"Yeah." She followed him back. The mess had been cleaned up and the metal even shone—and more remarkably, everything was back where it should have been. "Did you figure out what the problem was?"

"It just looked like it hadn't been maintained."

"Oh." Amara's face heated. "So, it could have been prevented if we'd have just checked the parts?"

He nodded. "Want me to show how?"

"Definitely."

Wes bent over and pointed to a lever, explaining what it does.

Five minutes later, Amara was an uncertified expert on the machine. With any luck, there would be no more mishaps.

Just after Wes left, Rafael came through the door with a bag.

"I hope you don't mind a simple lunch," he said.

Amara took the bag. "I should be feeding you, not the other way around."

"Should we eat at the counter?" Rafael asked. "Or would you prefer the back room?"

Her stomach was about to eat itself, she was so hungry. "This is fine." She put the bag on the counter and opened it, finding wraps and a fruit salad in plastic containers. "Did you make this?"

"Maybe." He gave her a coy smile.

"You're just full of surprises."

Rafael laughed. "I try." He unwrapped some silverware from linen napkins.

"You thought of everything," Amara said. She looked at him with adoration, her heart swelling in size.

"Actually, I forgot drinks."