C.J. Carmichael - Secrets Between Them

Jennifer felt a thrill of anticipation. It was a sunny, warm day, chock-full of possibilities. “I think we should park at Pebble Beach and walk to town. I can fill you in on the island history on the way.”

“Okay. You’re the tour leader.”

Nick smiled at her, and Jennifer felt the effect right down to the tips of her toes. Maybe this wasn’t a date, but she was looking forward to being with Nick. Until it was time to go home and prepare afternoon tea, she was going to pretend she was a young woman without a care in the world.

She directed Nick to Pebble Beach where they parked, then headed straight for the ocean. The beach was strangely deserted for such a fine day. Of course, vacation season was now over and kids were back at school.

As they walked, their shoes crunched on the tiny rocks. “I see why you call this Pebble Beach.”

“We don’t have sandy shorelines on the island. In a way that’s a good thing, because it’s helped keep the tourists away. That, plus the complicated ferry system.”

“I visited Saltspring Island once many years ago. From what I’ve seen so far this island is quite different.”

“We have similar topography and weather, but that’s where it ends. Ask any local—Saltspring is exactly what we don’t want to be.”

“Why not? It’s very popular.”

“Sure. And I like to visit Saltspring, too. In fact, I sell my lavender products through one of the crafts-women there. But Summer Island is just more…real. We aren’t overrun with tourists and artists and back-to-nature types.”

“You don’t like tourists and artists and back-to-nature types?”

His teasing smile gave her that light-headed feeling again. “I don’t have a problem with them. It’s just that they can squeeze out the locals. Most of the people on our island were born here and live here year-round. They’re fishermen and farmers and they don’t want yuppies coming from the city and clogging our little town with specialty coffee shops and upscale hardware stores.”

“So is it an us against them mentality?”

“A little bit,” she admitted.

“What about your friends? Harrison Kincaid lives in Seattle, doesn’t he? And Simone wasn’t a full-time resident, either.”

She laughed. “I don’t make full-time residency a condition for my friendship.” They were on the boardwalk now, the ocean to their right as they headed toward Cedarbrae. How had they ended up talking about her friends again?

She had so many questions to ask him. Last night they’d talked about travels, but nothing personal. She wanted to know everything there was to know about Nick Lancaster. “How long have you been a writer?”

“From the time I could hold a pen in my hand, practically. But I didn’t sell my first book until I was twenty-eight. Since then I’ve been lucky to make a pretty decent living. What about you? I’m assuming you were born and raised here. Did you ever move away for a while?”

“Never.” She couldn’t help sighing as she said this.

“You didn’t go to college or university or anything?”

“I was supposed to. But my mother died the year I graduated high school. I stayed back to help my father adjust…and then he had his stroke. I couldn’t leave then.”

He paused to throw a rock into the ocean. “You never married?”

“No. But once…I came close.” Jennifer didn’t think of her aborted engagement very often. She could hardly picture Barry in her mind, or imagine his voice, or the way it had felt to kiss him.

It was hard to believe she’d once considered linking her life with that of a man who had made such a non-lasting impression. “But that was a long time ago.”

“What about now?” His gaze swept over her. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Please don’t let me blush again. It didn’t mean anything that he was curious. This was the sort of general interest question that people did ask. “No. That’s one drawback about living on a small island. Not many single men, especially by the time you get to your thirties. Molly and I sometimes joke about sending away for mail-order husbands.”

Nick chuckled, and Jennifer waited for him to offer his own romantic history. When he didn’t, she prodded.

“Have you ever been married?”

“Never. Though I came close once, too.”

“Oh?”

“We lived together for a few years. Then she dumped me.”

His smile was self-deprecating and yet so utterly charming that Jennifer felt another twist of her heart. Had he really been dumped? It didn’t seem possible. What woman in her right mind would dump Nick Lancaster? There had to be more to his story, but they’d reached the outskirts of Cedarbrae and Derby’s Diner was before them.

“I’m kind of hungry,” Nick said. “You?”

“Derby’s serves a good lunch. Want to give it a try?”

Nick hesitated a moment, then said, “Actually, I was here for lunch yesterday.”

“Really? So was I.”

“Is that right?” He opened the door for her and they went inside.

IN NICK’S EXPERIENCE MOST people loved to talk about themselves. Not Jennifer. He would have found her lack of self-absorption appealing if it hadn’t been so counter to his purposes. Every time he managed to orchestrate the conversation around to her life—and her friends’ lives—Jennifer quickly steered it back to him.

As they made their way to a booth along the far wall, he took stock of all the Simone DeRosier paraphernalia on display. Yesterday he’d been so focused on Molly and Jennifer that he hadn’t noticed the framed photographs and posters.

Despite having seen hundreds of pictures of Simone, and hours of videotape, he was struck anew by how in-your-face beautiful she had been. He wondered if that had ever bothered Jennifer. Most of the women he knew admitted to the odd bit of jealousy. But so far he hadn’t caught a glimpse of it in Jennifer.

Was the woman really too good to be true?

“Anything to drink?” The female server was at their table before they’d opened their menus. She looked and sounded a little grumpy, but Jennifer gave her a warm smile anyway.

“I’ll have a coffee, please, Josie. Thanks a lot.”

The server turned to him and he asked for his usual. “I think I’ll have a double latte, no fat, extra hot.”

The server gaped. “What?”

He winked at Jennifer. “Just coffee for me, too, please.”

The poor woman, now more confused than grouchy shook her head slightly, then walked away, heading for the coffee station next to the kitchen.

“That was mean, Nick, teasing Josie that way.”

And yet she was smiling, if rather reluctantly.

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.” He liked seeing Jennifer smile, though she was still pretty when she didn’t. Yesterday when he’d watched her picking flowers in the garden, he’d had a few moments when he’d actually felt bowled over.

And his reaction had puzzled him. Typically his taste in women ran to urban sophisticates. His ex-fiancée had been—and still was—a senior editor at his publishing house.

Karen was amusing, smart and witty. And, he had to admit it, she’d had a bit of a cruel streak, too. He had a feeling she would have satirized Jennifer’s sweet, unassuming ways.

Don’t you think it’s an act, darling? No one could possibly be that nice.

Yet, she was. He didn’t doubt for a minute that Jennifer March was the real deal.

The server came back with their coffees. Jennifer pushed aside her menu and leaned closer to him. “Do you know what you’d like to eat? The seafood cassoulet is Derby’s specialty.”

He was more of a burger guy himself, but he nodded. “I’ll try it.”

Josie nodded, then scurried back to the kitchen. Jennifer leaned closer. “So tell me about your books.”