Inappropriately Yours (Camassia Cove #3) Page 8
"Distracting," I muttered. I was here to be livid and tear Jack a new one, then storm out like a caveman with my daughter thrown over my shoulder.
I was cursed with the inability to stay focused—unless it was imaginary, of course. I had no issues concentrating on fictional worlds. I'd been like that from birth. Often called loner, dreamer, or the less flattering, uncaring.
I patted my pockets to find my notepad, and then I did the right thing. I sat down at the rickety desk in the corner and jotted down a to-do list. It helped me organize my thoughts and stay on track.
I wondered, if the book continued, if Gypsy Girl still went on adventures…
Before I knew it, I retrieved my laptop.
*
I was awakened by a loud ringing sound, and I bolted up, only to groan in pain. Kicking back the chair I'd fallen asleep in, I rubbed my neck and blinked blearily as I gained my bearings.
"Fucking curses," I whispered.
I squinted out the window, then looked behind me. I was in Camassia Cove. Cedar Inn. I'd slept at the desk. My back absolutely hated me. The sun was up.
My phone rang again, so I dug it out from my pocket and answered in a less than pleasant voice. "What?"
There was a pause. "Did you sleep in your study again?" It was Isla, and she was far too amused. "Dad, you're going to ruin your back one day."
"I'm not doubting you," I grumbled. I pushed off my pants and then collapsed down onto the bed. "What time is it?" I checked the alarm clock on the nightstand and saw it was 9:14 just as Isla confirmed it. "All right. Shower, then breakfast. To what do I owe the pleasure, hon?"
"I thought I'd check in. I miss you and wonder how you're doing."
She wouldn’t miss me if she came home, damn it. She wouldn’t miss me if she weren't getting so chummy with Jack. I cringed at that thought—again.
"Well, you can always come home." Standing up, I walked to the window and peered out over the expansive garden. "You've been up there a long time." Dark clouds loomed in the distance, but it didn’t take away any beauty from the blossoming trees. The sun shone brightly, drenching everything in color.
At the end of the property, there was a white cottage with blue trim. Nestled among bushes, trees, and flower beds, it was in far too good condition to be a tool shed. It was too big for that, too. Two stories, a small porch. How picturesque. Two people could easily live there.
Guesthouse, perhaps.
Isla hummed. "It's very beautiful up here."
"It is." I kept my gaze on the cottage, feeling oddly inspired. Then my eyes widened as I noticed my slip. "I mean, from what I can tell. I checked your Insta…thing…app…the thing with the photos."
I gave myself a mental pat on the back for the nice save.
Isla chuckled softly. "I love you, Dad."
I smiled, my chest constricting. Something about her tone was off, yet she sounded happy. "I love you too, pumpkin." My brows furrowed, and I wondered if anything was wrong. "So, what're you up to today? Getting much writing done?"
"I am." She brightened. "I'm sitting in this cozy café, and it feels like most of the guests here are students or aspiring authors. Everyone has a laptop."
My spidey senses tingled, and I dove for my notepad and a pen. "Oh, yeah? Sounds nice. What's it called?" Shit, that wouldn’t be enough unless I wanted to raise suspicion. "I bet it's Beans & Books or something equally small-townish."
She laughed. "It's the Tea Leaf, I'll have you know. They have the best breakfast sandwiches."
Noted.
"So you two have breakfast there often?" I threw the bait to see what happened.
"Huh? Uh, no. I'm here alone." She cleared her throat, and I heard the soft clank of a spoon stirring in coffee. "Jack's out of town, actually."
"Really?" That was surprising. I didn’t know how to catch them looking awfully guilty if one of them wasn’t there.
"Yeah, he's meeting with a client in Vancouver. Left yesterday."
So he was comfortable enough to let her have his place to herself. They were close enough for that.
"When will he be back?" I asked.
"Tomorrow night."
My eyes narrowed at the joy she failed to hide.
It kicked me into gear, because I wouldn’t get any answers holing up in my room. I needed to investigate, and now I had a place to start. Time for some light stalking at the Tea Leaf.
*
On the way downstairs, I patted my pockets and located the key to my rental. I had my phone, notes, wallet… Was there anything else? It was a constant worry of mine, that I'd left something behind.
"Good morning, sir."
I cocked my head at the reception desk. It was a new woman, not the one I wanted to ask to have dinner with me. "Morning."
She smiled politely and gestured toward the dining room. "Breakfast is being served for another twenty minutes if you want to get some food before you head out."
I hadn't even thought of breakfast. "Thanks, but I think I'll eat out. Have a good one." Sticking the car key between my teeth, I gathered my hair, damp from my shower, into another untidy bun and walked out.
The sun greeted me with a beam sharp enough to make me squint.
I'd forgotten my shades.
Darting back upstairs, I spent the next ten minutes searching for the Ray-Bans Isla had gotten for me last year when I'd misplaced my old ones.
Take two, and…action.
I returned outside and jogged down the porch steps on my way to the car. An old, metallic green Beetle stood parked by the mailbox, and I grinned when I saw Chloe.
"Good morning." I eyed the car over the rims of my shades and chuckled. For some reason, that vehicle suited her perfectly.
She spun around, hair fanning out, and gave me a smile. "Good morning, Aiden. Did you sleep well?"
Did I lie to the beautiful woman in a summer dress, or did I admit I was a total disaster who wrote until I crashed, no matter where I was?
I went with the lie. "I slept fine. What about you? You couldn’t have slept very long."
She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "I got a few hours. Now I have to pick up flowers. Where are you off to?"
"Stalking my daughter, as one does." I smirked when she laughed. "I just got off the phone with her, so I happen to know she's at a café called the Tea Leaf. From there, it shouldn’t be difficult to figure out where she's staying."
"Oh, that’s not far from here." She pointed up the street. "Take a left up there, and when you get to the lights, it's to the right, but if you go straight ahead toward Hemlock Avenue, it's easier to find parking." She tilted her head at me and pursed her lips. "You know you could probably find her address online, yes?"
I hadn't thought that far ahead.
"Where's the fun in that?" I scratched my forehead with the car key, wondering if I, one day, would get my shit together. "Anyway, I won't keep you…" But Christ, I wouldn’t mind if I did. I wanted to know everything about the real Gypsy Girl. If there were any similarities in personality, life journey, and dreams. Having nothing to lose, I figured to hell with it. I manned up and went for it. "Chloe, would you have dinner with me tonight?"
Her lips parted, and her lovely eyes flashed with surprise. "You mean like a date?"
I smiled. "Well, yeah."
Either she was blind to her own appeal, or she was as rusty about dating as I was. Perhaps a combination of both.
"Oh. I, um…" She exhaled a nervous laugh. "Sure, I would like that."
Hell. She said yes. Now I had to figure out a way to impress her. I hadn't been on a date in over eight years, and it was definitely a first to date a woman I'd based a book on.
16.
Chloe Nolan
"Mom, you're all…cheerful and chirpy."
"Am I?" I composed my face as I loaded up the last of the white roses into the back seat of my car. "It's a nice day, is all."
Gray folded his arms over his chest. "You're about to have twelve yammering women at
the inn for a wedding. You hate that shit."
"It's not a wedding. It's a bridal shower." I closed the door and faced my son.
He picked up shifts at the bookstore next door whenever he didn’t have classes or training, and how lucky was I that today was one of those occasions.
"It's good money." I shrugged it off, even though he was right. Whenever I hosted showers and bigger events, I stressed myself out and disliked my own gender just a bit. Or maybe I had drawn the short straw at birth and was destined to attract the worst bridezillas and their entourages.
"Well, you look like you got laid."
"Gray Christopher Nolan, so help me God, you are not too old to get spanked." I shook my fist at him.
He laughed, the shit. "You're adorable, Mom."
I rolled my eyes, contemplating embarrassing him. I'd done it before. When he was seventeen, he got in trouble for skipping class. So I waited until he was having people over one day, and then I handed him a box of condoms in front of his friends.
His buddies thought I was the coolest ever, but Gray was flushing scarlet for two hours.
"Do you need condoms?" I asked innocently. "I saw these cute ones with the Pride flag on them—"
"Not necessary," he rushed out, eyes bulging before he gave me a nasty look. "Jesus."
Another time, then. I wasn’t looking to become a grandmother yet, so heck yes, I made sure they were safe. I was always packin'.
"I'm staying away from that, anyway." He peered down the street and scratched his arm. "It's all bullshit."
He was too young to believe that, and I had a feeling it had something to do with a certain crush. Gray and I were close; he could talk to me, so I knew he was infatuated with his hockey coach. His very straight, very married hockey coach.
I felt for him.
"Anything I can do, sweetie?"
He shook his head and smiled faintly. "Nah. I'm good." Next, he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "I should get back to work."
My eyes flicked to the window of the bookstore and I opened my mouth to tell him I was excited about seeing them all tomorrow—wait, wait, wait, what's that? No way! I stalked forward, shock rising within, and didn’t stop until I had both hands planted on the glass.
"That’s how I knew his name!" I exclaimed.
Aiden Roe, best-fucking-selling author. Holy crap, he was a frigging celebrity. Or famous enough to have a window all to himself for his latest book called Hellbound.
"What're you talking about?" Gray joined me and eyed the book. "Have you read it? It's brilliant."
I faced him and swallowed dryly, even more nervous about the dinner now than before. "I have a date with that man tonight."
Gray's brows shot up. "You what?"
I nodded dazedly, glancing back at the book. "He checked in to the inn last night, and as of an hour ago, we're going to dinner. I have his number in my non-famous phone."
We'd exchanged numbers to discuss restaurants, and he'd jokingly told me he'd send updates on his stalking. I had grinned like a fool. That grin was gone. Should I cancel? I wasn’t anything like the women he must be used to. I had no extravagant hobbies or outlandish tales to share.
Speak of the devil… My phone buzzed with a message from him. I read it while trying to get my hands to stop shaking.
To save myself from embarrassment by showing up dressed like a fucking slob, can we make it casual? I didn’t pack any nice clothes. That means you need to dress down. You look far too beautiful already.
"Dude! Mom." Gray stole my phone and grinned much like I had earlier. "Fuck me, this is priceless. It's actually him?"
"Fuck is right," I mumbled and cupped my cheeks. They felt warm. "If he keeps that up, I might put out."
Gray both grimaced and snorted in amusement. "I'm sure he'll keep it up."
I slapped his arm, unable to keep from laughing.
A new text popped up.
That might've been too cheesy, but true nonetheless.
"Definitely cheesy," Gray agreed. "He's got game, though. You're hooked."
I sighed and snatched back my phone. "He's an incredibly attractive man, and he seems gentlemanly. And maybe a bit dorky. Of course I'm hooked, he's different from what I'm used to."
Lately, that wasn’t anything, but my past spoke for itself.
"Now, go back to work so I can reply without you breathing down my neck." I hopped up and kissed his cheek, clutching the phone to my chest. "I'll see you and your brothers tomorrow."
"Have fun and use protection." He smirked and gave me a two-finger salute.
Like the mature woman of forty that I was, I stuck my tongue out at him.
*
If you like chicken, I know a place that makes the best Cajun chicken salad.
After dropping off the flowers and having a quick lunch, I got back in the car to run my next errand.
Aiden replied quickly.
You had me at chicken and lost me at salad. Blergh, rabbit food. Otherwise, I'm not picky, I promise. Despite what you might think by now.
I laughed and turned up the radio before responding.
You've only shot down four ideas. Don’t worry, I'm sure you can eat anything. Burgers and beer? ;)
Aiden was funny. We'd been bantering back and forth for a while, and my cheeks were hurting from smiling.
Now you're speaking my language. Shall we say seven o'clock? I'll pick you up someplace. I should know where you live. Chloe, where do you live?
Shaking my head and giggling like a complete moron, I stopped at a light and fired off two texts to Gid and Gabriel, asking if they were having fun on their last day in Vancouver. They'd be on the first ferry tomorrow morning, and I'd arranged for Gage to pick them up at school where the bus would drop them off.
Unlike Aiden, they didn’t reply very fast, but before I could reply to him, I received a message from Gray.
If I drop off my copy of Gypsy Girl, can you ask Roe to sign it?
17.
Aiden Roe
At seven o'clock sharp, I was trailing down to the cottage I'd seen this morning from my window. I wasn’t very nervous anymore, which was a relief. Texting all day had eased my fears, as had a shot of whiskey, and now I was only glad I'd asked her out.
A long shower to let off some steam had worked as a reminder not to get ahead of myself, too. To Chloe, this was a regular date with a man she'd just met. To me, it was…Jesus Christ, a whole lot more than that.
I was the weirdo who had befriended a girl in my youth without her knowledge. It was a one-sided connection, I kept reminding myself.
Not much had changed with my clothes; I wore the same cargo pants as before, though I had changed shirts and put on a long-sleeved black tee. I could only hope the restaurant was as casual as Chloe had promised.
Knocking on the door, I adjusted the thin leather cord around my neck and grinned, remembering one of Chloe's texts from today. She'd admitted she'd thought I was a vagabond when I checked in, based on what I was wearing.
A vagabond sounded more exciting than an author.
Chloe opened the door and, much like when we were kids, she knocked the air out of my lungs. I smirked and cleared my throat in my fist, having half a mind to chastise her for the effect she had on me. The tight jeans, heels, and top that showed some cleavage didn’t help.
"What happened to dressing down, Ms. Nolan?" I took a step forward and dipped down to brush a kiss to her cheek. "Gorgeous."
She sucked in a breath and smiled up at me. "You have a way with words. Thank you."
I held out my arm. "Shall we?"
*
Chloe said the restaurant wasn’t far away, so we decided to walk. On the way there, I asked about her day, ready to hear more and figure out who Chloe Nolan had become.
She was holding back, merely touching on topics I wanted to dive into. She spoke a little about the inn and a large party of women who were checking in on Sunday, and then she mentioned she'd run into one of her sons.
"We haven't always lived there," she explained. "I used to have an apartment when they were young enough to share. The twins in one room, Gage and Gray in another. Then I started renovating the house when Gage went off to college, and the twins shared until it was Gray's turn to leave." She tucked her hair behind her ear and smirked a bit. "It does get a little crowded, but I don’t mind."
The love she had for her sons shone in her eyes, and I'd be a liar if I said I wasn’t curious about no father being mentioned. Perhaps it was a bit early in the date to ask that, though.
*
Coho Bar & Grill was a cozy place, and despite the intimate atmosphere, it buzzed with life from the music playing and the chef working the grill alongside the rest of the staff behind the bar.
We were shown to a table in the back by a woman who recognized Chloe as the owner of Cedar Inn. I supposed, in a relatively small town that was divided into even smaller districts, people were bound to run into others they'd seen before.
"Are you participating in the festival this year?" the woman asked.
"I am." Chloe smiled. "My boys and I will do pies and cider as usual. No time for creativity." She chuckled.
The woman's eyes lit up. "That’s actually perfect. My partner…Adam. He's not here tonight, but we own Coho together, and he absolutely loves the cider you make. He created a delicious chutney with it last summer to go with smoky bacon and—" She stopped and offered me an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry. I won't interrupt." She faced Chloe again. "If you're interested, we'd love to talk sometime about that cider."
She took off after saying she'd get us a menu, and I pulled out the chair for a dazed-looking Chloe.
"I didn’t know my cider was that popular." She looked torn between pride and surprise.
"You'll have to tell me about this festival." I sat down across from her, cataloguing everything I learned. The hostess's interruption hadn't been unwelcome. Because of it, I'd found out more. For one, Chloe was humble, and she seemed completely oblivious to her accomplishments.
"I'll make you a deal." The floating tea light on the table gave her mischievous expression an extra spark. "I'll tell you about the festival after you've told me how your day with your daughter went. I feel like I'm doing all the talking."