Trapped in Tourist Town (10 page)

The stubborn jut to her chin told Burke she protested just a tad too much. She loved her espresso machine and the fancy drinks she got to make. Of course it was going to upset her when her boss attacked something that meant so much to her.

“He pulls that machine out, he's going to hear from this disgruntled former customer,” he grumbled.

They parked at the nursing home and headed inside. Cady certainly was popular here. She stopped to say hi to an elderly gentleman shuffling slowly toward them. Burke hung back, waiting for Cady to take him to her aunt's room. He yelped in surprise when a shaky hand grabbed a handful of his ass.

“Doris! You need to behave yourself. And anyway, hands off—this one's mine.” Cady shook her finger at the elderly woman. Her eyes danced with merriment.

They continued to the end of the hall, Burke checking over his shoulder every few feet.

“What the heck was that all about? They've got some randy old women here.”

“It's those sexy new jeans. Even the geriatric set can't help but cop a feel.” Cady chuckled.

“So ... I'm yours, huh?”

“Of course not! I was just saving your butt—quite literally—and you're welcome, by the way.” She blustered, refusing to make eye contact.

“Her ears turn beet red when she's lying, you know.”

“Auntie!”

They were standing in the doorway of the last patient room on the left. An old woman waited for them in a recliner by the window. A giant purse sat in her lap.

“You must be him, then. The city man who has our Cady, and half the town of Scallop Shores, all aflutter.”

“Burke Sanders. Nice to meet you.”

“Cadence Eaton, the first. But you can call me Auntie.”

If the rest of Cady's family were anything like Auntie, this was going to be an interesting evening. Burke offered the woman his hand and helped her to her feet. Together they started back down the long hallway, and if he used the ladies Eaton to shield him from Doris Grabby Hands, so what? The old biddy scared him.

• • •

When they arrived at Cady's parents' house, Burke was met with an unusual sight: the women sitting out on the big deck while the men crowded the kitchen and stood over huge pots of boiling water.

“We were wondering when you'd finally get here. Foster just put the lobsters in. Won't be long now.”

“Sorry, Mom. Burke was busy flirting with all the old ladies at Kittridge.”

He shook his head, the urge to slap her on the ass for that remark only curbed by the fact that he would have proved her point. This teasing, the back and forth, it's what Cady did with Chase too. Was this her way of welcoming him into the family? He didn't know whether to be honored or embarrassed. He wanted to preen, but then he wondered if this was her way of saying she thought of him as a brother.

“Let me guess. It was either Doris or Abigail?” Cady's mother tapped a finger to her chin.

“I believe Cady referred to her as Doris,” Burke confirmed.

“Well, feel lucky she only grabbed your butt. Abigail stuck her hand in Chase's front pocket one time.” The very pregnant woman seated before him must be Chase's wife.

All four women on the deck must have found his expression highly amusing, because they could barely breathe for all their laughing. Burke shook his head. The women he knew in the city were not this blunt.

“I'm sorry, Burke. This is my mother, May, and my sister-in-law, Amanda.”

May stood, and before Burke could hold out a hand in greeting, she wrapped him in a hug. Amanda was slower, struggling out of her plastic deck chair. She, too, introduced herself with a hug. Her big belly got in the way and Burke was stunned to feel a slight tap to his middle.

“Oh, excuse me! I guess Baby Eaton is saying hi, as well.” Amanda giggled.

Cady led the way into the kitchen, setting the pie down on a section of counter that wasn't filled with paper plates, bowls, or bags of potato chips. She took the other desserts and found homes for them as well, turning to give Burke a bright smile before sidling over to the stove and laying a loud kiss on her father's cheek.

“Daddy, this is Burke Sanders. Burke, this is my dad, Wallace. You've met Chase.” There was a snort of laughter that made it very clear that everyone in the room was well aware of Burke's famous 911 call.

“And that gorgeous man fixing us dinner is Foster Duncan. He's Amanda's brother. Their parents own The Lobster Pot, a restaurant in the harbor. Best seafood on the East Coast.”

Burke nodded his head toward the man who was probably as close to thirty as he was. Gorgeous, huh? He supposed, if you liked dark hair, darker eyes, and a dimple in one—no, make that two—cheeks. Instinct had Burke wanting to dislike the guy on principle. He kept looking from Cady to Foster, searching for some sign that would reveal they were more than friends. Not having experienced jealousy before, Burke found his first taste bitter.

“We're almost done in here. Cady, love, why don't you start taking things out to the patio table? Probably should light up the citrine candles now, too. Mosquitos will be wanting to eat us alive.” Wallace handed her a stack of plates and a long-handled lighter.

Before he could offer to carry something out, May pushed a large covered salad bowl into his hands. She tossed a big bag of potato chips on top and patted his arm. Burke tried to navigate past a huge gray cat that looked as though it was doing its best to trip him up.

“Daisy! Scat!” Cady stuck a toe out and convinced the cat to leave him alone.

“Thanks. I think it was trying to break my neck.” He chuckled.

“Probably.” Cady wasn't laughing.

The long plastic table had already been covered with a red checked tablecloth. May and Auntie were following close behind, each carrying more food. Burke tried to lift covers and peek under glass lids, but he kept getting his hands slapped. It all smelled so good. His own parents would have cheerfully dropped dead before dining al fresco.

He hovered as the ladies set plates out, filled lemonade glasses, and uncovered bowls of potato salad and homemade cole slaw. Cady had gone back inside to help carry out the lobsters, clams, and drawn butter. Burke hurried over to help Auntie and Amanda into their seats.

“Woo hoo! Check out those city manners.” Chase chortled as Burke pushed in Amanda's deck chair.

“You could learn a thing or two from this gentleman, Chase Eaton.” Auntie narrowed her gaze at her nephew.

This time the laughter was directed at Chase, and Burke was happy to join in.

Everyone found a seat at the table. No stranger to lobster, given his extravagant lifestyle, Burke was happy not to have to be instructed in the ways of extracting the succulent meat. He didn't need another reason for a good ribbing from Chase.

“So, what do you think of our humble little town?” Wallace asked, sinking his teeth into a juicy ear of corn.

“High crime rate,” scoffed Chase.

“Enough with the raccoon jokes. It's getting old.” Amanda rolled her eyes.

Burke pushed his fork through his pile of homemade potato salad and tried not to smirk at the man who made needling him almost a full-time job.

“I really like it here. I can definitely see the attraction.” He left it at that, knowing that the protective older brother in Chase would pick up on the double entendre, while hoping it was subtle enough that he didn't piss off Cady's dad in the process.

“Yeah, he's even thinking of staying. Isn't that exciting?” Cady squeezed his knee.

“So, wait … you'd choose our quiet little town over the Big Apple? Maybe you'd have better luck than any of us have had, convincing my stubborn little sister that she doesn't need to move all the way to the city to be happy. There is plenty of excitement right here in Scallop Shores.”

“Burke will need the quiet,” Cady interrupted, no doubt to deflect yet another raccoon joke. “He's writing a book.”

“A travel book?” May asked him.

“Fiction, actually. Horror.”

His head was beginning to spin at how fast the conversation was being pulled in different directions. It was clear Cady was using him to avoid a fight with Chase. Yet the pride in her voice seemed genuine. He had to admit, he liked it.

“Ooh, our own Stephen King!” Auntie's quavering voice trilled.

Burke's chest felt tight as he struggled with emotions that were so foreign to him. He'd only just met most of these people, and not only did they accept him for who he was, they were interested in his dreams of becoming an author. How could Cady want to leave this? Familial support, it felt like being pulled into a warm embrace. Good Lord—men were not supposed to get the warm fuzzies like this.

“Well, my editor would have my hide if she found out about my little moonlighting job.” Burke waggled his brows as he looked around the table. “I sure could use some local perspective from someone who isn't desperate to flee the area. Maybe from someone who actually spent time in the city and chose to come back to her hometown?”

He'd been going for lighthearted, funny even, but the silence that descended over the table told Burke he'd crossed a line. Cursing inwardly, he was about to apologize to the elder Cadence when she smiled warmly.

“Young man, you are more than welcome to come visit me any time. I'm sure I have a story or two to share.”

He let out the breath he'd been holding.

“So if you're gonna hang around, you should join our poker nights.” Foster—God love the guy for stepping in and changing the subject—punctuated his point with a lobster claw.

Out of the corner of his eye, Burke caught Chase making a throat-slicing gesture with his hand. Yes! Poker, beer, gambling, and trash talk. Now, that was manly. The fact that Chase didn't want him there? Icing on the cake.

“I'd love to.” He shot Chase a toothy grin. “Let me know if you want to carpool, buddy.”

“Oh, I like you.” Amanda looked from her husband to Burke and back again, amusement crinkling her eyes.

Cady, too, seemed to be watching the exchange like it was a tennis match. She plucked at a fluffy buttermilk biscuit, sitting back in her chair and looking relaxed. Burke understood with sudden clarity that Cady had everything he wanted: a supportive, loving family, a close-knit community, a job she loved (at least as far as he'd seen). And she was willing—no, eager—to leave that behind and start a life on her own in the city. It didn't make sense.

She was happy here. He'd have to be blind not to notice that. Surely it wouldn't take much convincing to get her to stay. The wheels started to turn and Burke tried to come up with ideas on how to incorporate the parts of city life that Cady seemed to feel she needed in order to make her life complete.

Step one: Appease Mr. Logan by convincing more Scallop Shores residents to order Cady's espresso drinks, so she could keep her machine at the bakery.

As if on cue, Cady traded out Burke's empty plate for a slice of pie. He forked up a piece of flaky, buttery crust and placed it on his tongue. Heaven. The town could not afford to lose such a talented baker.

He looked up to find that she was waiting for his assessment. His heart stuttered as he watched her expression go from nervous to hopeful and back again. She cared that much what he thought? Why him? Burke gave her a thumbs-up and a satisfied groan. Her face lit up. Joy, pure joy. It was contagious. He couldn't afford to lose her, either.

Three orders for cappuccinos, five for lattes, one for an Americano, and another for a macchiato—all from people who lived and worked in Scallop Shores. Cady was starting to wonder if she was on some
Punk'd
type reality show. Seriously bizarre.

“Hey, Cady, what's up? I've got thirty glorious minutes to myself and I plan to indulge. Can I get a mocha with whip?” Talia, owner of Tumble Tots and mother to the cutest twin boys, had sidled up to the bakery counter.

Cady blinked. Talia always ordered a large French Roast, extra cream, and a brownie bite on the side. Without exception. Something was definitely going on.

“I'll make you a mocha, on one condition.” She raised a brow, folding her arms across her chest. “You tell me who put you up to this.”

The bright smile fell from Talia's face.
Gotcha!
She glanced toward the big plate-glass window as though she were afraid she'd be caught. Cady nodded in satisfaction.

“He's just trying to help you out. Honest.”

“Who is? What are you talking about?”

“Burke.” Talia lowered her voice and leaned in closer. “He's around the corner, convincing people to try something from your espresso machine, instead of the usual drip coffee.”

“Why on earth would he do that?”

“He said Mr. Logan was going to make you pack it away if you didn't sell more. He asked if we'd support you in this. And of course we would. Our community rallies together. You should have asked us sooner, Cady.”

“Oh, Lord ...” Cady slapped a hand to her head and rolled her eyes.

This had to stop. She prepared the mocha—because no one touched her espresso machine but her—then gestured for her part-time employee, Sophie, to man the counter. She'd have a little chat with the overstepping new man in her life.

Because he'd annoyed her, and because she was feeling a little evil, Cady slipped out the back door and made her way around the building. Sure enough, Burke was at the end of the block, head down, talking to a couple of older women.
Ha! Good luck with that.
Those two never frequented the bakery. Known for their penny-pinching, the Allen sisters refused to eat out and only bought food they could prepare at minimal cost. To her stunned disbelief, Cady watched them each pat Burke on the arm, nod, and walk into the bakery. Forget
Punk'd
; maybe she was on an episode of
The Twilight Zone
.