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Authors: Denise Hunter

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Chapter Three

B
eckett guided the twenty-foot Bayliner
Caroline
into the narrow slip. The river was fast and high today from the late spring rain, but now the sky was clear, the setting sun bright as it dropped behind the hills.

His boss met him on the dock as he tied off the boat. Carl Dewitt was short and thick with a paunch that strained his shirt buttons. “Hey, you fixed it?” he asked.

“Yep.”

Carl nodded, his bushy gray brows lifting toward his receding hairline. “Good, good. Our customer will be thrilled. His mechanic in Tampa couldn't figure it out.”

Beckett shrugged, handed over the keys. “Been at this awhile.” He'd been fixing motors long before he was legally employable, more from necessity than anything else.

They parted ways at the shop entrance, Carl going inside to shut down for the night, Beckett heading for his truck. He turned over the engine, and it purred smoothly. Friday night, thank God. A nice quiet evening with Rigsby and ESPN, a short day tomorrow, and then a day off.

Several minutes later he turned into his gravel drive on the other side of town. The front yard was hardly big enough to host a flea, and the house wasn't much bigger, but it was home. Had been since he was a boy. The backyard was more generous. After saving for years, he'd put up an outbuilding last year. It took up most of the yard, but that only meant less mowing. The building was spacious, heated, and well lit. The perfect place to build boats.

His landline was ringing as he unlocked the door. Rigsby, his black Labrador mix, barreled him over on the threshold. “Hey, big guy.” Beckett gave him a quick scratch behind the ears before reaching for the phone.

He shrugged from his work shirt as he answered. “Yeah?”

“Hey, Beckett. It's Evan Higgins.” His old friend sounded winded.

He greeted Evan as he flipped on ESPN.

“I'm in a fix,” Evan said. “Wondered if you could help.”

“Name it.” Evan ran a crew for Exterior Solutions. He had helped Beckett put up his outbuilding.

“I donated sailing lessons for that auction last week, but I just found out I'm going to be working a lot of Saturdays. The crew on an apartment complex in Louisville quit, and they were way behind. Left it in kind of a mess, and the owner's ticked. I'm headed there now to straighten it out. Long story short, can you fill in for me tomorrow . . . and maybe a few other Saturdays? Your boss donated rental of a sloop.”

Rigsby barked, facing the back door, his black tail nearly knocking over the wastebasket as it swished around. Beckett let him out, turned on the porch light.

“Sure, I don't see a problem, as long as Dewitt doesn't mind me taking time off. I can fill in as much as you need.”

“I ran it by him first. He was happy to donate to the cause.”

“All right then. What time tomorrow?”

“One o'clock at the marina. Listen, I appreciate this. The package was for lessons with a racing pro, so my options were pretty limited. I think she's a beginner, so you'll have to start with the basics. We're crewing together for the regatta, so teach her well.”

Evan, saddled with a beginner. That only upped his own chances at the regatta cup. Beckett chuckled at the thought.

Evan caught on. “Hey. No giving her bad instruction.”

Beckett opened the door and let Rigsby back in. “No worries. I like to win fair and square. So one o'clock at the marina. Who am I meeting?”

“One of the McKinley girls—the vet. She's eager to learn and bright, so she should pick it up quickly.”

His hand froze on the door. “Madison?” Her accusations from two weeks ago returned with enough force to sting. Last thing he wanted was hours alone on a boat with Madison.

She wouldn't be any happier about the change of plans than he was. But he'd already agreed. Why hadn't he asked more questions first?

“Does she know?” Beckett asked.

“I left her a voice mail. I'm sure it'll be fine. I mean, you're almost as good as me.”

Beckett ground his teeth. Well, things just went from bad to worse where she was concerned, didn't they? First the supposed date with her sister, now this.

“Just kidding,” Evan was saying.

“Yeah, right, I know, I was just . . . thinking about something else.” He squeezed his eyes closed, pinched the bridge of his nose.

He couldn't believe this was happening. How many lessons had he agreed to?

“Well, I'm almost there. Let me know how it goes, and thanks again.”

“No problem.”

After they said good-bye, Beckett set the phone on the counter and beat his forehead against the tight mesh of the screen door.

Lessons with Madison. Great. Just great. How could he be alone with her, out on the water where he could see her, smell her, touch her?

Why is this happening, God? I promised to stay away from her, and now look.

For the thousandth time he chided himself for his impetuous decision two weeks ago. What kind of fool was he, showing up at Madison's house, flowers in hand, on the night of the Spring Sowers Banquet? What had he been thinking?

He'd had his speech all prepared, but instead of Madison, Jade had answered the door. She took one look at the cluster of pink roses, and a shy smile bloomed on her face. Half a dozen silver rings glimmered in the waning daylight as she brought her hand over her heart.

“It was you?” she said.

He didn't understand, didn't know what to say.

She took in his collared shirt and dark jeans, then smiled, her green eyes sparkling. “The banquet . . . ?”

He felt like a heel. “Jade, I—”

But suddenly she was gone from the doorway. “I haven't been to the Sowers Banquet in forever. I'll be back. I have to change.”
She was down the hall when she seemed to remember she'd left him on the porch.

She returned, letting him in. “Sorry, sorry! Come in. Let me just . . . You think you could find a vase in the kitchen? They're so pretty, thank you!” Her cheeks bloomed with color.

“Jade, listen, I don't think—”

“Don't worry, it won't take me a minute.” And then she was gone again.

Madison's kitchen was meticulously clean and smelled of pine and lemon. He rummaged for a vase inside the maple cabinets. What now? He didn't have the heart to tell Jade the truth. Not after seeing her face light up. Not after she'd scurried to her room to change like she'd waited all her life for this date. Not when she was finally coming alive again after losing Seth.

Stupid. Why didn't you just call Madison and ask like a normal person? Better yet, why didn't you just keep your feelings stuffed deep inside where they belong?

He reviewed Jade's behavior. It was like she'd been expecting him. Well, it couldn't be helped now. He was going out with Madison's sister, like it or not.

He shut a cupboard hard. Opened another.

He'd been reminding himself for years that Madison was beyond his reach. What kind of a future did the son of Wayne O'Reilly have with the daughter of Chapel Springs' most respected family? It just didn't happen. He'd always known that.

What didn't make sense were the moments of insanity today, when he'd convinced himself it was worth the risk. And now here he was, in Madison's kitchen readying for a date with her sister—what was she anyway, twenty-one, twenty-two? He may as well kiss his chances with Madison good-bye.

Not that you had one anyway, O'Reilly.

Could things get any worse?

“Can I help you?”

He pulled his head from a low cupboard to find the object of his thoughts entering the kitchen.

The sight of her stole the moisture from his mouth. She was all dark flowy hair and big brown eyes. One finely arched brow lifted.

He found his tongue. “Looking for a vase.”

Her eyes flickered to the cluster of roses on the counter, then back to him as he rose to his feet.

Her jaw set, she passed him, going to the high cupboard above the stainless steel fridge. She wore a pair of fitted jeans and a white T-shirt—an outfit that promised a comfy evening home on the couch. His source had been right. She wasn't going to the banquet. Especially not with him.

She stood on tiptoe, pulled down a clear glass vase, and handed it to him.

“I'm ready.” Jade fairly skidded into the room, having pulled off what must have been the fastest wardrobe change ever. She wore a black gauzy skirt, leggings, and a funky off-the-shoulder top.

“Good, you found a vase. He brought me flowers,” she told Madison.

Madison crossed her arms. “I see that.”

Beckett squirmed under Madison's stare. He suddenly wanted out of there more than he could say. He ran water in the vase, willing it to flow faster. He could hear Jade whispering to Madison over the rush of water, but couldn't make out the words. Was pretty sure he didn't want to.

He stuffed the flowers into the vase and set them on the counter. “We should get going.”

Rigsby gave a sharp bark, and Beckett ran fresh water into his dish, his heart still thudding hard at the memory. He'd tried to salvage Jade's feelings, but in the end he'd done just the opposite. And he was sure, lessons or no, Madison wasn't about to let him forget it.

The story continues in
Barefoot Summer
by Denise Hunter—available wherever books are sold!

About the Author

D
enise Hunter is the internationally published bestselling author of more than twenty-five books, including
Falling
Like Snowflakes
and
The Convenient Groom
. She has won the Holt Medallion Award, the Reader's Choice Award, and the Foreword Book of the Year Award and is a RITA finalist. When Denise isn't orchestrating love lives on the written page, she enjoys traveling with her family, drinking green tea, and playing drums. Denise makes her home in Indiana where she and her husband are rapidly approaching an empty nest.

Learn more about Denise online!

DeniseHunterBooks.com

Facebook:
authordenisehunter

Twitter:
@DeniseAHunter

BOOK: Just a Kiss
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ads

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