Not the Marrying Kind (Destiny Bay Romances - Forever Yours) (8 page)

“You want to do business with the Carringtons?
 
Go hang out at Mickey’s on the Bay.”

It was a comment made by someone passing his table and hadn’t been directed at him, but he’d just spent time with Shelley and it interested him, so he’d filed it away anyway.
 
And now, here the place was, just a few steps from where his car was parked.
 
A slow grin began to twist his mouth as memories of Shelley teased his senses.
 
He was about to leave town.
 
Last chance.
 
How could he resist?

It seemed an odd place for one of the most important and prominent families in town to choose as their natural hangout.
 
Crusty as a barnacle covered boat, it stood out on the embarcadero, obviously one of the oldest cafes in the area.
 
And the one most in need of some updated décor, he thought as he walked in.
 

The place was crowded.
 
Talk was flowing freely.
 
He slid onto a stool at the counter and smiled at the redhead, wearing a “Mickey” name tag, who was tending it.
 

“You from out of town?” she asked, just making conversation as she poured him a cup of coffee.
 

He nodded.
 
“Just passing through,” he murmured.
 
“So, how are your burgers?”
 

“The best,” she shot back with a smile.
 
“Get the bacon cheeseburger.
 
You’ll be a happy man.”

He grinned.
 
“That’s my goal.
 
I’ll have one.”

He was about to ask her if there were any Carringtons around, or was it just a myth that they congregated here, when he caught sight of Shelley herself sitting by the window in a booth toward the back of the room.
 
She was laughing at something a tall young man was saying and Michael felt a little jerk to his jealousy meter.
 
Which was crazy.
 
No justification for it at all.
 

There was a crowd of people around her and he could see that there was no point in trying to get her attention, so he sat and watched.
 
They were a noisy bunch, but in a good-natured way that didn’t really bother anyone.
 
He felt a twinge, watching.
 
Though he didn’t know anyone but Shelley, he could see that there was a bond of closeness between them all.
 
Like a family picnic.
 

Family.
 
That was something he didn’t know too much about.
 
His own had been so massively dysfunctional, he sometimes tried to convince himself his childhood had been a bad dream.
 

He stared into the bottom of his coffee cup for a long moment, thinking of how different their backgrounds were.
 
Shelley was raised as small town royalty--- his parents had been small time crooks, sort of Bonnie and Clyde wanna-bes.
 
His earliest memories were of being wakened from his motel bed in the middle of the night and rushed to the car as his parents escaped yet again from a bad situation.
 
It was his job to stare out the back window, watching for that tell-tale flashing red light coming up from behind.
 
Getting across the state line was always the most important goal in his family.
 
Sometimes they made it, sometimes they didn’t, and he was farmed out to a foster family for a few months while his parents served a bit of time.

Family.
 
Yeah, that was something other people had.
 
Not him.
 

“Don’t mind them,” the redhead said as she served him his cheeseburger, nodding toward where the party was going on.
 
“It’s just Carringtons doing a little celebrating.
 
Happens all the time.”

He looked back at her and nodded.
 
“Actually, I’ve met Shelley,” he said as he prepared the burger for it’s first bite.
 

“Really?”
 
Mickey’s eyes sparkled as she noticed him sneaking a look in that direction.
 
“Hey Shelley,” she called out.
 
“Someone here to see you.”

“No… .”
 
Michael tried to stop her, but it was too late.
 
He watched as Shelley looked up, surprised.
 
Then a series of mixed emotions flickered across her face.
 
She saw him.
 
Her eyes widened and she looked pleased. He smiled rather wanly.
 
She bit her lip and looked worried.
 
Once she’d thought it over, she obviously wasn’t all that happy to see him.
 
Then, realizing he could probably read her like a book, she changed her mind and smiled.
 
She said something to the young man.
 
He glanced back at Michael and shrugged, then moved on, and Shelley rose to come toward him.
 

“
Like an old friend
,” he thought.
 
“
Why not
?”

He had to admit, she’d appealed to him from the first.
 
Something about her tugged at him, and at the same time, something else flashed like a warning.
 
In his love-‘em and leave- ‘em world, women like Shelley didn’t fit the scenario.
 

“Hi,” she said, stopping a stool away, as though afraid he might touch her if she got too close.
 
“What are you doing here?”

“Having lunch.”
 
He smiled, looking at her.
 
He couldn’t help it.
 
Her hair was tousled, as though she’d been hugging lots of cousins, and her sweater was clinging to her lovely breasts in a way that made his pulse go a little faster.
 
Her dark eyes were wary and uncertain.
 
He wanted to pull her in and hold her and whisper reassurance.
 

But anything he would tell her would be a lie.
 
No point.
 

“Care to share my cheeseburger?” he offered.
 

“No thanks.”
 
She smiled back and risked coming a little closer.
 
“So what happened with your partner?” she asked.
 
“The last time I saw you, you said he was in trouble or something.”

He stared at her for a moment, then nodded.
 
“He’s okay,” he said dismissively.
 
“We got it taken care of.
 
No problem.”

She nodded, wondering if he was telling her the truth.
 
What a strange way to live—always so close to disaster for yourself or for those that you were close to.
 

“So what brings you here?” he asked.
 

“My cousin Reid and his wife Jennifer just found out the baby they’re having is actually two.
 
Twins!
 
So of course, a bunch of us had to get together and…. .”
 
She shrugged.
 

“Congratulate them?” he guessed, helping her out.
 

She nodded and looked away, then visibly steeled herself and looked back into his eyes with new energy.
 
“So, how are your sessions with Jeff going?
 
Coming to any conclusions about your tendency to shoplift?”

He laughed.
 
“Sure,” he said.
 
“It was just a phase I was going through.
 
Nothing serious.”

“Nothing serious,” she repeated softly, wondering if that wasn’t close to being the story of his life.
 
“Good.
 
I guess you’re cured then.”

He nodded and took another bite before he answered.
 
“Actually, I’ve had my last session.
 
In fact, my job here is done.”
 
He gave her a half grin.
 
“It’s time to say good-bye to Destiny Bay.
 
I’m moving on.”

Their eyes met and something seemed to quiver between them, like a note held by a violin.
 
It touched her emotions, deep inside, but she couldn’t have said how or why.
 

“Where to?” she asked, trying not to sound plaintive.
 

He shrugged and looked away.
 
“You know better than to ask that.”

She nodded, thinking of the matchbook she’d found.
 
Did she have the nerve to ask him about it?
 
No.
 
Not quite.
   

Suddenly she was angry.
 
It was awfully convenient to have a way to back out of any sort of commitment or responsibility, wasn’t it?
 
All he had to say was,
sorry, it’s a secret.
 
I can’t tell you where I’m going or what I’m doing.
 
See you later-- if I feel like it.
 

She wished she hadn’t come over to see him.
 
Who needed this, anyway?
 
Why did he have to come and disrupt her life like this just when she’d almost convinced herself to forget all about him?
 

“So this is it?” she said coolly.
 
“This is what you always do?
 
Stop by for a quick adventure and then move on to something more exciting?”

He frowned.
 
Her words stung more than he’d expected from her.
 
They made him sound shady, unfeeling, superficial.
 
Like someone who just skimmed across life and love, taking what he could and dismissing what he couldn’t reach as though it didn’t matter.
 
He didn’t care for that picture much.
 

And anyway, didn’t she realize that he’d done her a favor by not pursuing a relationship with her?
 
He’d been tempted.
 
And he’d done the honorable thing—hadn’t he?

“It’s my job,” he said shortly.
 
“That’s the way it works.”

“It’s your choice,” she shot back.
 
“Nobody’s forcing you.”

A lot she knew about it.
 
He pushed his half-eaten burger aside and reached for his wallet, pulling out a large bill and dropping it on the counter before he slid off his stool and glared at her.
 

“Have a nice life, Shelley Carrington.
 
Enjoy your family and your nice little beach town.
 
I’ve got work to do.”

“Good bye, Michael,” she said softly.
 
“And be…be careful.”
 
Her voice trembled and she winced.
 

He stared at her.
 
He had an overpowering need to kiss her beautiful mouth, kiss it hard and make her feel what he was feeling.
 
But if he had talent for anything it was self-control and he exerted it now.
 
Turning on his heel, he made his way out of the café, almost running into a tall, casually dressed man on his way in.
   

“Sorry,” he muttered, and walked on, stifling the urge to want to hit something.
 

Back in the café, Shelley slid onto the stool he’d left behind, fighting back tears.
 

“Hey Shelley,” said the young man Michael had almost bumped into.
 
He leaned forward and studied her eyes.
 
“You okay?”

Shelley looked up and smiled shakily.
 
“Hey Tag,” she said to her cousin.
 
“I just…”
 
She shrugged.

Tag looked out through the window at the man who’d just left and thought he had some idea of what might have happened.
 
Instead of going to the back of the café to join the other Carringtons, he dropped onto the stool beside her and reached over to give her a hug.
 

“What’s going on, Shelley?” he asked her quietly.
 
“Anything I can help you with?”

She shook her head, smiling at him gratefully.
   
“No.
 
I’m supposed to be a professional at this emotional stuff.
 
You’d think I could have it under better control.”

He nodded and smiled, touching her hand with his in a quick gesture of support.
 

“So what’s the deal?” he said, taking her cue to move the conversation on.
 
“You getting to be a certified psychiatrist or something?”

“No, just a psychologist.
 
You have to have a medical degree to be a psychiatrist.”

By now, Tag was gazing at her speculatively.
 
“Do you think you could help Missy?” he asked, talking about his reclusive younger sister.
 

“Help her?”

He nodded.
 
“She’s such a great girl but she’s so…shy I guess you’d say.
 
I just think her life should be so much more than what she lets herself have right now.
 
You know what I mean?”

Shelley knew Missy had problems.
 
Her first reaction was to explain why it was impossible to see her.
 
Missy was a relative and she really wasn’t supposed to treat relatives.
 
Maybe she could get Jeff to have a session or two with her.
 

But she knew that wouldn’t work.
 
She could already imagine how impatient he would be with her and that would only make her problem worse.
 
Still—what could she do?
 

“I guess you know about how our mother ran away from our father and took me and Missy along when we were young,” he said, leaning close and talking softly.
 

Shelley nodded.
 
He was talking about old family history.
 
She’d heard Tag’s mother referred to as “that crazy hippy” so many times, she had a feeling she knew what he’d gone through.
 
She’d broken Uncle Michael’s heart, they said.
 
There had been whisperings about boyfriends and partying and situations a mother had no business putting a young child through.