No Tan Lines (19 page)

“What’s up?” Kai asked the second the call ended.

“You look a little pale,” Nicole said, concerned.

Word of the Sharkeys’ disbandment would soon spread down the boardwalk, so Shaye gave them a heads-up. “Uncle Chris can no longer support a sandlot team. We need a new sponsor.”

“Oh, crap,” came from Kai. He ran a hand down his face, deep in thought. “The guys at Hardware and Lumber might be an option.”

“I’ll also check with Jenna at Three Shirts,” said Shaye.

“Let me run a list of outstanding bills,” Kai said. “Maybe I could split the sponsorship with someone.”

“What about me?” Nicole said so softly, they weren’t sure she’d spoken.

“What about you?” asked Kai.

“I’ll go halves.”

Shaye was so taken aback, her jaw dropped. “Do you know anything about baseball?” she asked.

Nicole shrugged. “What I don’t know, I can learn.”

She looked down at her clasped hands. “I never played sports as a kid, because I worked after school. If I wasn’t cleaning for my neighbors, I was doing chores at home.”

She smiled at Shaye, a grateful smile. “My life has changed for the better. I now have a shop on your boardwalk. Several customers bought jewelry from me over the weekend. I’d like to give back to the community.”

Shaye hadn’t seen that coming. Nicole’s offer to sponsor a baseball team surprised the hell out of her. Kai looked a little shocked himself.

Nicole reached over and touched Kai’s arm. “Our fortune-teller gave me a reading several days ago. I think these are
the boys
Madame Aleta saw in my future.”

“Who’s to argue with our aunt?” Kai asked.

“Not me,” said Shaye. “What are you going to call your team? I’ll have new shirts printed up.”

“The Jewelry Box is too girly,” said Kai.

Nicole fingered her necklace. “Hook It, Cook It sounds fishy.”

“Why don’t you discuss the name over lunch,” Shaye suggested. “You can let me know once you decide.”

Kai raised an eyebrow. “I thought you and I—”

She shook her head and waved him off. “We’ll talk later.”

Her cousin walked out with Nicole. Over his shoulder, he winked and mouthed, “Thanks.”

Now what?
Shaye thought. She’d lost her lunch partner.

“Looking for me?” Trace came down the hallway toward her.

She hadn’t been, but she was surprisingly glad to see him. He looked nice walking toward her. He’d taken off his sport coat and removed his tie. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, and his sleeves were rolled to his elbows.
Informal yet hot,
came to mind.

“I just said good-bye to Kai and Nicole,” she told him when he reached her.

“Nicole was here?” He looked sorry he’d missed her.

“She came for a short visit,” she explained. “Nicole now knows about our family’s dispute. She wanted to be sure I was treated well here at Saunders Shores.”

“Interesting,” Trace said. “Nicole being more concerned about you than me.”

“I guess you gave her away.”

Trace went very quiet. After a full minute, he flattened his palm on the wall beside her and leaned in, as if to tell her a secret. His cheek brushed hers, and his words were for her ears only. “Nicole wouldn’t have survived in a boutique at Saunders Shores. She works with semiprecious gemstones. The Shores clientele prefers diamonds over cubic zirconium. She wouldn’t have sold one piece of jewelry here. Though we’re no longer ... together, I didn’t want her feelings hurt.”

Shaye now understood. “My deception over the volleyball tournament gave you the perfect opening to put her on my boardwalk. I took her off your hands.”

“Pretty much so.”

“Opportunist.”

“You started it.”

Yes, she had. She’d finish it, too.

He eased back slightly. “Nicole is happy with her shop. I’m assuming you’ll allow her to stay.”

Shaye had no plans to boot the woman. Nicole Archer had woven her way into the Cateses’ lives. The lady had put down roots in a very short time.

“I lost a sponsor for our sandlot league, and Nicole offered to take over the team,” Shaye told him.

Trace threw back his head and laughed. It was a very deep, warm, male laugh that resonated through Shaye from the outside in. “I’ll help coach if she needs assistance,” he said.

“She’s got Kai. They’ll go halves.” She gave him this information on purpose, to gauge his reaction.

He raised an eyebrow. “Kai, the man who squirted her with ketchup at the concession stand? Who then went on to tell her that she bagged popcorn like a rookie?”

“They’ve become friends.”

Trace took it all in. His expression never changed. There was no anger or jealousy. His acceptance came easily. “She’s an Archer, not a Saunders. She has no feud with the Cates family.” One corner of his mouth curved. “I may have to catch a game or two.”

“At your own risk,” she reminded him. “My family tolerates you now, but after the tournament, your life is in your own hands.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. “We’re at odds, and you’re always trying to get even.”

She would always keep score with this man. That was her nature. He knew it, and so did she. Awareness was all-important. It kept her on her toes.

“Do you have plans for lunch?” he asked.

She had, but they’d disappeared with Kai. “I’m on my own,” she told him.

“Me, too,” he said.

“I thought you were having lunch with Marlene.”

“What gave you that idea?”

She told me so,
Shaye wanted to say, but she let it pass. She shrugged, realizing Marlene’s plans must have changed, as well. “My mistake.”

“You’re here, I’m here... .”

He left the sentence open-ended, letting her finish it for him. She met his gaze and then wished she hadn’t. The man made her heart race. She refused to read more into his offer than was there. This was all about lunch, nothing more.

She stepped into her office and slipped on her shoes. It was too hot for her blazer. “Molly Malone’s, and you’re buying,” she said.

“I can live with that.”

Seven

T
heir lunches continued for ten days. Trace would show up at Shaye’s office unannounced and insist she take a break. Most days the noon hour saw them at Molly Malone’s Diner. Only once did he succeed in taking her someplace new. They’d enjoyed pasta at Barconi’s bistro.

From daybreak to dusk, Shaye worked hard, not only on the upcoming tournament but keeping tabs on Barefoot William. Her relatives were a handful, Trace noted. They depended on Shaye, and she was dedicated to them all. He admired their closeness.

By Wednesday, Trace sensed that Shaye was tired. She had dark circles under her eyes, and her shoulders slumped, yet the moment she crossed Center Street, she shook off her shoes, and her steps seemed lighter.

She was a barefoot, free spirit who came alive in the sunshine, yet he’d coerced her to work in an office. He felt a little guilty but not enough to let her return to the beach. He believed the success of the volleyball tournament was based on Marlene’s strategy.

He wanted to see Barefoot William in the black, not only for Shaye’s sake but for Nicole as well. The jewelry designer seemed content. She was establishing a clientele. Her business was growing, as was her involvement with Kai Cates. Trace approved of Kai, although Kai hated him. Kai still held a grudge from high school. Crystal Smith was their unhappily shared past.

Today was far more important. Trace returned his focus to Shaye and their stroll down the Barefoot William boardwalk. The outdoor vendors saw her coming and waved her over. She stopped and chatted with each one. The woman could eat. It soon became apparent she couldn’t pass a food cart without placing an order.

Their meal this afternoon consisted of junk food and fun. They started with hot dogs, cheese fries, and slices of pizza, and ended with caramel corn, funnel cake, and fried Oreos.

The food they were unable to eat they slipped into a small wicker picnic basket purchased at Crabby Abby’s.

“Snacks for later,” Shaye said.

She would be munching all afternoon.

By the time they reached the end of the boardwalk, he was so full, he refused her offer of the last bite of blue cotton candy. The woman was half his size yet ate twice as much as he did. He waited for her to blow up.

He looked back over his shoulder, at the long stretch of boardwalk behind them. Their huge lunch had cost him very little, he realized. Had they dined at a Shores café, he’d have spent ten times the amount on soup and a salad.

The money didn’t matter, although time spent with Shaye had become important to him. She intrigued him. She was unique, quirky, and straightforward, when she wasn’t being sneaky.

He knew exactly where he stood with her. She hadn’t liked him much in the beginning, but he sensed they were growing on each other, a day at a time.

There were moments when he forgot about their feud and enjoyed her company. She was easy on the eyes, and he was fascinated by the way she laughed for seemingly no reason. More often than not her laughter was directed at him. He no longer minded when she made fun of him.

“One more stop,” Shaye said as they retraced their steps. “I have a surprise for you.”

“No more food,” he begged.

“I promise, you’ll find room” was the only hint she’d give him.

They soon arrived at Goody Gumdrops, the modern-day Snack Shack. Trace was aware the original Shack had been demolished by a hurricane five years earlier. Shaye had used the insurance money to open her own shop. Kids would line up with dimes in their pockets and visions of gumdrops dancing in their heads.

A red and pink lollipop was painted on the door. She entered first, and he paused just inside to look around. The walls were peppermint striped. The overhead lights were custom-shaped as Tootsie Rolls.

Glass jars were stacked on shelves above large wooden bins of penny candy. There was so much sugar, his sweet tooth started to ache. The sign near the cash register read: ONE PIECE FOR A PENNY OR BUY BY THE POUND.

Shaye introduced the boy behind the counter as her cousin Nick. He looked athletic, Trace thought. And clean-cut.

Nick headed to the register when a cute girl close to his own age filled a small paper bag with pink rock candy and was ready to check out.

“Sweet Treat Trivia.” Nick passed her a round glass bowl filled with rolled pieces of paper. “Candy over a dollar becomes half price if you answer correctly.”

The girl reached in and removed a question, which she read aloud. “What candy is individually wrapped and a bright Day-Glo red with layers of various colored cinnamon?”

The question stumped her, yet she guessed anyway.

“Jawbreakers.”

Nick looked as disappointed as the girl. “Sorry, the answer is Atomic FireBalls. Better luck next time.”

“I’ll be back,” she promised.

Trace vividly recalled the Sweet Treat game. He and Shaye had played years ago at the Snack Shack on the pier. His date, Crystal Smith, had suggested the game. He’d gone on to best Shaye with his knowledge of candy corn.

He watched her now as she stood on tiptoe and stretched to reach the top shelf, which held jars of his favorite candy. There were six flavors, he noted. His concentration shifted from the candy corn to her.

Shaye had one sweet body. She had slender shoulders and a sleek spine. Her butt would fit the palms of his hands perfectly. Her inner thighs were toned and would nicely grip a man’s hips. He’d bet she’d make one hell of a lover.

Sex with her would be sleeping with the enemy.

His insane thought shook him. He swallowed hard. He pulled his mind back to the bins of Boston Baked Beans, Necco Wafers, and Bit O’ Honeys. He started counting the wrapped morsels of salt water taffy in a jar on the counter. He went on to the alphabet to distract himself further, starting at the end and working forward:
Z, Y, X, W, V ...

He’d gotten to
F, E, D
by the time Shaye handed him a bag of candy corn tied with a black licorice whip. She gave him a small smile. “My treat. Enjoy.”

“What, no trivia question?” he asked.

“Your candy’s free.”

“One question. If I lose, I’ll pay double.”

“You live dangerously, Trace Saunders.” She passed him the bowl. He circled his fingers among the rolled paper and finally picked one. He handed it to Shaye.

She read it aloud, her expression as serious as a game-show host’s. “What’s a five-pack of sugary sweet liquid sealed in wax bottles, complete with its own carrying case? Most of the fun comes in chewing the wax bottles after drinking the liquid.”

There was no hesitation on his part. “Root Beer Barrels.”

She made a buzzer sound far louder than he felt was necessary, indicating he was wrong. “
Bottles
not
barrels
,” she said. “The answer is Nik-L-Nips.”

What the hell?
Losing didn’t sit well with him. “Go again,” he requested.

“Are you sure? There’s approximately two hundred pieces of candy corn in your bag, and you already owe me four dollars.”

“We go triple.”

“You are a gambling man,” she said.

He fished out another rolled paper and passed it to her. She stretched the paper out flat. “Bazooka Bubble Gum,” she said. “Name the colors on the wrapper.”

Oh, crap.
He’d chewed the gum as a kid but was more excited over the comic and fortune inside than the color of the wrapper. “If I’d collected one million comics, I could’ve sent away for a BB gun,” he muttered.

Shaye shook her head. “That’s what the company offered as a prize. They wanted kids to chew a lot of gum. It’s not, however, the correct answer.”

He gave his best guess. “White” was a standard color on most candy. “Blue” was too. The gum was pink, so he went with it. “Pink.”

Her buzzer once again sounded, attracting attention from those entering the store. “Not pink but red,” she corrected him. “You owe me six dollars.”

He exhaled slowly. A small crowd had now gathered. He was looking bad. “You have any questions on jelly beans or candy corn?”