Trapped in Tourist Town (3 page)

“My name is Cady Eaton. My family stepped off the Mayflower and kept wandering until they made it to Scallop Shores. And that is where they have stayed ... ever since.” She returned the water to Burke and focused her attention on the waves rolling toward them.

“So you'll be the first Eaton to leave town for the big city?”

“No, actually. My great-aunt Cadence spent a summer there once. I've grown up on her stories of nannying for a rich family in Central Park West.”

“So why didn't she stay?” He cocked his head toward her.

“I've been wondering the same thing. From what I understand, she left the love of her life to come back here.”

“Because she loved her family more?”

“Because that was what was expected of her.” Cady knew he was watching her, but she stared at the horizon, her jaw set.

They passed the next few moments in silence. The less said, the better. She couldn't believe she'd gone and blurted out family business to a complete stranger. He must think she was a real nutcase. Risking a quick glance, she chanced a sidelong look from beneath her lashes. Burke was studying the rolling surf.

“Yours is a unique angle,” he finally spoke.

“Excuse me?”

“I'm sorry, it's just that I need to research the town, but the whole tourist trade thing has been done so many times before.” He turned to Cady, his steady emerald gaze rooting her to the spot.

“You've lived here all your life and you can't wait to see it in your rearview mirror. How would you sell Scallop Shores? What will you miss most when you're gone? What memories of this town will haunt you the most?”

Cady blinked. She had an idea. She clapped her hands and barely kept from squealing in her excitement.

“You should hire me!”

“I beg your pardon? I'm a travel writer. It's a one person job.”

“I'll be your research assistant, your tour guide. I can give you all sorts of unique angles.” She nearly shuddered at the heat that shot out at her from Burke's intense gaze.
Whoa, poor choice of words.
“I can even type up your notes, take pictures, whatever you need.”

“I don't think it's in the budget to hire on an assistant, much as I would enjoy it.” His grin was wolfish.

“Please. I need the money. You saw that pathetic tip jar. And my car is about to give up the ghost. I'm never going to get to New York unless I find another source of income.”

She knew she was begging but she no longer cared. Burke was her ticket out of Scallop Shores and she would convince him that he needed her as much as she needed him.

“So then we'd have a working relationship?” He sounded disappointed.

“For now ...” Cady shocked herself with that coquettish response.

“I'm probably going to regret this, but what the hell? You're hired.” He held out a hand and they shook on it. She had to tug to remove her hand after the shake went on just a tad long.

It looked like she wouldn't have to worry that her last summer in Scallop Shores would be boring. Things just got really interesting.

Burke smiled and nodded at a young mother on his way to Logan's Bakery. Intent on his daily dose of caffeine, and perhaps a fresh round of blushes from the adorable Cady, he explored the few square blocks that made up downtown Scallop Shores.

He knew he shouldn't be flirting but that woman brought out the devil in him. The attraction was mutual, of that he was certain. And now he'd agreed to work with her? He'd be lucky if he could pull together one article for the magazine before the summer was up, let alone a whole series. What had he been thinking?

He couldn't help the grin that crept onto his features. Ever since he'd met the woman, he'd been looking for a way to get to know her. When she suggested a working relationship, it was perfect. And more importantly, she thought she'd come up with it all on her own. Burke chuckled to himself.

“Good morning. Beautiful day, isn't it?” An older couple passed him on the street, the man calling out in a gravelly voice as he tipped his ball cap.

Folks sure were friendly around here. That part wasn't so bad. But the nosy bit? Good grief! He hadn't watched nearly enough episodes of
The Andy Griffith Show
, whatever the heck that old '50s black-and-white show had been. He just hoped when he started asking around about their town, that the residents wouldn't balk at the way their roles had reversed.

He'd been stunned when the cashier at the grocery store asked how he liked the cottage out on Pebble Way. He'd asked the kid how he knew where he was staying. His answer had been a convoluted list of names that he understood to be a mix of relatives and acquaintances and how so-and-so worked for such-and-such. It had made his head spin.

Burke strolled down the sidewalk, browsing in shop windows as he got the lay of the land. He'd expected to bore quickly. Discontent would have him pining for the noise and bustle of the city. The crowded skyscrapers closed him in, made him feel safe. So all this wide-open space should be throwing him into a panic. Only it wasn't.

Ever since he'd stepped foot in Scallop Shores, things had been different. Burke never found himself distracted by a woman while on assignment before. He wasn't a monk. A casual fling sure beat spending an evening alone. But to find himself repeatedly thinking of one woman? And taking a vested interest in her goal to leave town? That just wasn't like him.

Burke pulled up short when he discovered the town had a bookstore. Praise God, Glory Halleluiah, and all that crap. He hurried inside and stopped to fill his lungs with the rich scent of paper and ink. Books. Walking into a bookstore was like being wrapped in a mother's arms. Warm and comfortable and you just wanted to stay there all day. Snorting, he realized that wasn't the best analogy when applying it to himself. His own mother didn't have a maternal bone in her body and he couldn't recall her ever having hugged him. Walking into a lover's arms. There, that was better.

A woman, about his age, with fiery orange hair, sat on the floor with a wiggly tot. “Hey, you must be Burke. Welcome to the Book Nook.” That old
Cheers
theme song floated into his brain.
Where everybody knows your name.
He nodded, trying to keep his discomfiture from showing on his face. The speed with which small town news traveled was still creepy, but he was starting to get used to it.

She smiled and turned her attention back to the baby, who had started to lift her tummy off the floor. “This one's gonna be an early crawler. You mark my words. I'm Wynter…with a Y, by the way. Let me know if I can help you find anything.” She grinned at him as she tickled the chubby babe.

Burke left the two of them alone for some cuddle time and began to explore the aisles. He studied a rack of new paperbacks, and not finding anything that appealed, he ventured deeper. For a small town, they had a sizeable horror section. This would do nicely. He scanned the backs of several books, reshelving some and hanging on to his two favorites. Then thinking about the fact that Scallop Shores had very little in the way of nightlife, he grabbed two more.

He brought them up to the counter, started to reach for the card he used for charging expenses, and had to switch it for his personal credit card. He could spin a creative expense need out of just about any receipt, but the magazine's accounting department would not buy “paperback novels” as a writing expense. Nope, this was on him.

Speaking of which, he hadn't been lying when he told Cady that he couldn't pay for an assistant. He'd turned down the assistant Meredith offered him while writing that piece in Tokyo. So asking for one in a town the size of Scallop Shores would just look ridiculous. If he paid Cady out of his own pocket, he didn't have to admit to anyone but himself that he was doing it just to spend time with her.

Anxious to get to the bakery, Burke tried to convince himself it was because he was desperate for a caffeine fix. And he was hungry. Starving. Yeah, that was it. He passed a couple of more storefronts, spying his own reflection in one window and nearly groaning at the freaking toothpaste ad that smiled back at him.

He was only in Scallop Shores as a favor to his editor. He'd already made up his mind that the boredom would probably kill him. He was supposed to be missing the city life. He should have been thinking about the next assignment. Quick! Think. Where should he go next? Paris?

Would the sidewalk cafes and boutiques have planters there that looked as charming as these half whiskey barrels full of flowers that he was passing? Gah! He was a guy, a man's man. He shouldn't be thinking of flowers or sidewalk cafes or especially the city of love. Argh! Where did that come from? No love! There was no love. There would never be love in Scallop Shores.

By now he was muttering to himself, eyes to the ground, ignoring the people who spoke to him as though he'd lived here all his life. Everyone was so welcoming. The sense of community was infectious. It made him think things he had no business thinking. Home and family. Little League and white picket fences. It was awful—horrifying.

Where was he? Burke looked up and found that he'd run out of sidewalk. Well, technically it continued on the other side of the street, once he passed the Civil War monument. He was just surprised that he'd walked so far past the bakery and hadn't realized it. Shaking the cobwebs from his brain, he turned on his heel and headed back the way he'd come.

Forget his next assignment. He ought to be focusing on a vacation. Seeing as he couldn't remember the last time he'd traveled for pleasure, he was overdue. Though to be honest, all-inclusive island resorts and European cities steeped in culture and history held less and less appeal for him. Burke's footsteps slowed. He kicked a pebble out into the empty street.

His idea of a luxury vacation now? Uninterrupted time at his laptop. Holed up in a cabin in the woods. Unbidden, his little rental cottage came to mind, that picture-perfect view of the ocean staring at him from that one tiny square window. Finally turning years' worth of jotted ideas into a real novel.

Good God, he needed his coffee now! He was starting to hallucinate. Envisioning some fanciful dream world. Rolling his eyes, he half expected the people around him to start breaking into song, birds alighting on his finger. Stupid Scallop Shores! Cady had it right. Best to get out while he could.

• • •

“Hey, if it ain't Gladys.” Old Man Feeney slapped the counter at his own joke.

Cady tried to pretend she wasn't paying attention, as she took someone's order in the corner.

“How's it going? It's Burke, by the way. Nice to meet you.” Bold move. She watched him walk up to the old man and stick his hand out. Clearly shocked, Feeney returned the handshake out of habit, too stunned to come up with a smart-alecky reply.

Burke's eyes swept the tiny space behind the counter and she was pleased to notice he must have been looking for her. Enjoying the fact that she had the element of surprise, she stepped up behind him and tapped his shoulder.

“Boo.” She grinned.

“I'm ready to order,” was his curt reply.

Ouch. Ego bruised, Cady shrugged and slipped between the glass pastry case and the counter. Maybe she had read him wrong and the spark she'd sensed was completely one-sided. She'd be lying if she didn't admit to being disappointed. It could have been a very interesting summer. But since that's all it would have been, this was just as well. She mustered a smile.

“Soy latte?”

“With an extra shot. Two pumps of hazelnut. Sugar-free, if you've got it.”

Cady nodded, her humor restored as she realized her peanut gallery was following their conversation. Following and not understanding a word, from the looks on their dumbfounded faces. She waggled her fingers at the men, scrunching her nose up and shooting them a smirk.

Mr. Cranky Pants wandered off to wait for his drink. He definitely wasn't in the mood to chat. Too bad. They hadn't firmed up their working relationship. She'd thought up some ideas for his magazine series and wanted to run them by him. Pouring Burke's latte into a large stoneware mug, she carried it to an empty table and waved him over.

“Where's my to-go cup?” He scowled.

“Oh, relax. It won't kill you to spend a little time with other human beings for a change.” She shrugged an apology when it appeared she'd struck a nerve. “I know. I'm pulling you out of your comfort zone. Get used to it. It's what I do.”

Grumbling, he yanked out a chair and sat down. Fixing her with an “
Are you happy?
” look he picked up the mug with two hands and took a long sip. If there was such a thing as a mood meter that could be read on a person's face, Cady saw the dial on Burke's change from angry red to a serene blue with just that one sip.

Satisfied that he wasn't going to bolt the second her back was turned, she grabbed the pot of plain ol' Joe and topped off the old men who had temporarily gone back to their own business. Heating up a cinnamon bun, she slipped it on a plate, grabbed herself a diet soda, and carried both to Burke's table.

“What's this?”

“Sometimes when people are cranky it's because they have low blood sugar.” She leveled him with a look. Ignoring the fork she'd placed in front of him, he snatched up the sticky bun and took a giant bite.

“Better?”

“Much.”

She popped the top on her can and took a few swallows before noticing his peculiar stare.

“What?” She swiped a hand across the back of her mouth. Did she have something on her face?

“You run a bakery with a fancy-ass espresso machine and regular drip coffee up the wazoo. Why the hell would you drink soda?”

“Truth?” Cady's expression was sheepish. “I hate coffee. Well, that's not true. I love the smell of it. I love brewing it and making my espresso drinks. But I have never acquired a taste for coffee. Uck!” She shuddered.