Trapped in Tourist Town (6 page)

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Authors: Jennifer DeCuir

BOOK: Trapped in Tourist Town
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“What is it covered with, besides 50,000 needless calories?” Distaste colored his words.

“Uh uh. You don't get to judge until you've tasted it. What do you like best? Shrimp, scallops, clams, or haddock?”

“I prefer to be able to see my shrimp, pink and veiny.”

“Shrimp it is.” Cady chose a piece from her own basket, stretched across the table and pushed it past Burke's lips before he could react.

His hand snapped up to grab her wrist. Only he just held it there. He worked the seafood around in his mouth, chewing slowly. His eyes held her gaze just as steadily as his hand held her wrist. Her breath lodged in her throat as she waited.

“It's different than I'm used to.” He released her.

“But?”

“But it's good. Is that what you want to hear? No, wait, total yum. Wasn't that it?” The smile he graced her with was all the reward she needed.

Warmth spread through her veins and only part of that could be attributed to the alcohol in her glass. Burke was so unlike the men she'd grown up with in Scallop Shores. Sure, he was a bit of a food snob. And there was no doubt he came from money and was used to getting what he wanted. But he wasn't pompous or mean about it. He wanted to fit in with the locals but seemed lost as to how to go about it. He was out of his element and that vulnerability was doing distracting things to her libido.

“Fine, you win,” he growled before abandoning his own fork and dipping a fried clam in tartar sauce. He licked his fingers and waggled them in her face but her concentration had been stuck on his tongue, sneaking out to bathe his greasy digits.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“I'll tell you about me—on one condition. You go first.” Burke continued to eat over his basket, clearly expecting a little entertainment with his dinner.

“What's to tell, really?” She nibbled on a French fry and tried to think of anything exciting that had ever happened to her.

“I've lived in Scallop Shores my whole life. I have an older brother who's a cop in town. He thinks it's a lot more thrilling than it is.” She chuckled.

“It's good to have a job that you love. Not everyone can say that.”

Cady found herself nodding. She had to admit she hadn't thought of it that way before.

“Anyway, my whole family grew up in this town, both sides. Would you believe that I'm the first one on either side to leave town, with the intent to permanently relocate, in at least four generations? Some have moved to the next town over, but no one has ever seriously traveled. Never been on a plane. Never seen the Pacific Ocean, and no desire to. See, I just don't get that.”

“But they were happy to just spend time with each other, here?”

“What? Yeah. I mean, we're really close. We love hanging out. Holidays, birthdays, any excuse to cook, bake, and yak it up.” The dopey grin slid off her face when she realized Burke wasn't smiling along with her.

He was in another place. And it wasn't a happy one.

“Tell me about your family,” she whispered, silently praying that he wouldn't shut her out.

“I'm an only child, so that should be cool, right? My parents have tons of money so I was spoiled. My dad worked a lot. I didn't see him much. But my mom didn't work at all, and I didn't see her much either.” His smile was sad.

“Dad would travel for work. He got to see some pretty amazing places. He'd bring me back a snow globe from each city he visited. I've got a huge collection. Mom did all her traveling for pleasure. Shopping. So she pretty much stuck to Paris and Milan. She didn't do kitschy things like snow globes.”

Cady realized their hands had instinctually found their way to each other under the table. She ran a comforting thumb back and forth over the top of his hand.

“I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that you weren't invited on any of these trips?”

“Boy, for a townie, you sure are smart.” He squeezed her hand.

“All right, poor little rich boy. Ever played darts?” She tossed back the rest of her beer and set the mug down with a clunk.

“It would seem this is a night of firsts.” Burke rose, tugging her up so fast that for one brief moment, their bodies were flush against each other. Too soon he broke contact and allowed her to lead the way to the dartboard. She kicked his butt four games in a row before Burke surrendered, conveniently blaming it on his need for an early start the next day, and they left the bar.

Cady sang along with the radio the whole way home, but nerves took over by the time Burke pulled into the small parking lot behind Logan's Bakery. A single glaring light bulb attached to the loading dock dimly illuminated the inside of his rental car and the sculpted planes of Burke's face. An awkward silence fell and Cady racked her brain to fill it, another apology for the tow truck debacle, earlier that day, forming on her tongue.

But she didn't get to deliver it.

Burke suddenly leaned in, his sweet, warm mouth covering hers. The kiss was tentative, as if he expected her to push him away or slap him.

The hell with that.

Cady grabbed him by the shirtfront and nearly hauled him into the passenger seat with her. The taste of beer still on his lips, the woodsy scent of his heated skin, was driving her crazy. It was a damn good thing the good folks of Scallop Shores were snoozing in their beds at this hour. Because any onlookers would be getting quite a show.

She sucked on his bottom lip, and his hand started searching out bare skin beneath her shirt when a sudden caterwauling from the Dumpster a few feet away had them jumping apart. Damned cats!

Burke blinked at her, looking dazed, and she was selfishly glad he seemed as rocked by their kiss as she felt. For a second, she wished she were the type of girl to invite a man she barely knew back up to her apartment. But she wasn't. She'd have to settle for getting to know him much better—and
then
inviting him upstairs. Because after experiencing the way that man kissed, Cady could only imagine what he could do in a bed.

• • •

Eight hours later and Burke still could not get the taste of her off his tongue. Nor did he want to. Which is why he'd abandoned his fruitless attempt at sleep and had joined the birds and the scampering chipmunks at oh-my-God o'clock, lugging his laptop out to the back deck to settle in and watch the sunrise. Snatching up an insulated travel mug from the wide arm of his Adirondack chair, Burke took a big sip. His eyes watered when the scalding liquid blazed a path down his throat. Wow. There was more than one way for coffee to wake a body up. He rested his head against the back of his seat and took another tentative swallow. Much better.

He opened his laptop, slipping in the memory card from his camera, and uploading the photos he'd taken on their outing yesterday. Cady on the suspension bridge, the sunlight pulling out all different shades of blonde in her playful braids. A group shot of Cady with a bunch of gruff lobstermen. Her eyes had danced with merriment as she made bunny ears behind their heads. Cady holding up a wriggling, mottled lobster, stacks of lobster traps piled behind her.

The women he knew in New York would be horrified to get anywhere near a live lobster, much less actually hold one in their hands. Cady lifted hers like a prize trophy, her grin nearly as large as the crustacean she gripped proudly. Burke had nearly squealed like a girl when she tried to hand it off to him. Okay, so he was more like the women in the city than the men in Scallop Shores. He needed to work on that.

Balancing the laptop on his knees, Burke flipped open a steno and tried to come up with a comprehensive series. What would his readers like to learn about this hidden gem of a town? He chuckled to himself. Where had that come from, “hidden gem”? He was supposed to be here under duress. He wasn't supposed to be enjoying himself.

He'd actually found himself disappointed when Cady's car had crapped out on them, dumping them on a curvy, narrow lane, just minutes from the famed lighthouse. He'd seen tons of photos but the idea of seeing it in person suddenly held an odd appeal. Maybe he would take her back there today, in his much more reliable car.

But first on the agenda today, he'd let himself be talked into clothes shopping. God, there was another thing he couldn't believe he was looking forward to. When Cady had learned that he'd never owned a pair of jeans, she'd made it her mission to outfit him, the better to keep from standing out in town. He shouldn't care what people thought. Let them stare. Only he found himself wanting to blend in, to be accepted.

Besides, denim was soft and comfortable. Everyone looked good in it. Especially bubbly little blondes. Burke shifted in the Adirondack, trying to focus on the task at hand. Cady in the photos. Cady in his brain. If it wouldn't complicate things all to hell, he'd just take her to bed and be done with it. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had sex. That was all this was. A raging case of blue balls.

Maybe he could talk her into a quickie in the changing room, wherever they ended up shopping? A frown slowly pulled Burke's face into a dark scowl. Cady was a good girl. She had principles. She wasn't the type a guy took advantage of just because he was horny.

Great. He'd just spent a sleepless night replaying their kiss over and over. Now he was trying to figure out the best place for a clandestine rendezvous. She was a small-town girl, an innocent looking for fun and excitement in the city. He was a jaded jerk, who was used to getting whatever he wanted—and discarding it when he got bored. Money did that to a person. He was a shark. Cady would do well to steer clear of him.

The sharp trill of his cell phone sounded from his pants pocket. Who the hell would call at, what time was it? Six a.m. Who called people at six a.m.? Checking the screen, he snorted. His mother. He'd lay odds she was in Europe again and hadn't even bothered to take the time difference into account. Shoving the phone back into his pocket, he let it go to voicemail. No, thank you.

Burke closed the laptop and concentrated on the small amount of coffee he had left. It was profoundly quiet out here. Just a few days ago, this would have sent him into a panic attack. He needed chaos, cacophony—or at least, he thought he did. Now, staring off into a row of thick pines, he was stunned to find that the lack of hustle and bustle on his current assignment was actually relaxing. His eyes widened as he spied a small brown bunny nibbling at a clump of clover just feet from where he was sitting. Okay, so make that relaxed
and
charmed.

Gathering his things as slowly as possible so as not to disturb his new little woodland friend, Burke headed in to take a shower. An undisciplined writer was an out-of-work writer and he had a series of articles to shape. It was time to get focused.

The cottage's shower could barely manage tepid water at the best of times, so today's chilly dribble was not altogether unexpected. And it worked to chase the fuzziness from his brain and tamp down the hormones raging through his body.

Re-energized, he settled at his desk, glanced longingly at the ocean view from his window and flipped up the screen on his laptop to get to work. He checked his email first, to see if there was anything from Meredith, his editor. This assignment being her baby, she was a lot more involved in the day-to-day than he was used to.

Just an email from his mother. God, the woman didn't quit! Ah, crap. The subject line read “Your father.” Had something happened and she called to let him know? And he'd just blown her off. Way to go, jerk! Burke tapped the mouse to open the missive.

“I know very well you were awake, just now, when I called. Must we play these games, Burke? Honestly, sometimes you still act like a small child.”

Really? Something was wrong with his father and she was taking the time to scold him? If he could flip off the computer screen with any hope of the gesture reaching his mother's shocked face, he would. Well, okay, he wouldn't, but he'd want to.

“As you are aware, we have been most indulgent of your little writing hobby. You have had yourself numerous adventures all over the world. Hurrah for you, darling. However, you are nearly thirty years old and it is time for you to become a responsible adult. Enough of this globetrotting nonsense. It is time for you to take your position as head of the company.”

Burke felt his stomach fall, down, down, hurtling into a chasm with no bottom.

“Your father has announced to the board that he will retire, effective this September. We need you to come back immediately, so that he can sit down with you and explain your duties.”

Aw, hell no!

“I am certain whatever assignment you are working on can be passed along to the next available writer. If there are any exceptionally ruffled feathers, let your father or I know and we can send a check. Money talks, dearest, especially when your little publication is far from being Condé Nast.”

Burke pried his fingers from the mouse he couldn't do without, even with a laptop, before he accidentally crushed it. Little publication, indeed!

“Your father will be expecting you within the week. Unfortunately, I will not see you until the week after, or possibly later. Make us proud, son.”

And it ended just like that. No “I love you,” or “Miss you lots.” Not from Evangeline Sanders, wife of Prescott Sanders, CEO and owner of one of the largest luxury hotel chains in the world. They thought he'd just drop what he was doing and go home like a good little boy? Burke's parents were about to become very disappointed.

Chapter 6

It was just a minor setback. If you want something badly enough, you have to be willing to accept that sometimes you have to take a few steps back when you're eager to move forward. Blah blah blah. Platitudes were not going to turn Cady's mood around. She'd had to say goodbye to Lucille this morning, boxing up her personal effects and leaving her precious car in a scrap yard.

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