Summer at Seaside Cove (37 page)

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Authors: Jacquie D'Alessandro

BOOK: Summer at Seaside Cove
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“Yeah—as if you could catch me. But I'm outta here. Enjoy your hot date.”
Kevin grinned. “You, too. See you in a few days.”
Nick nodded, anticipation filling him. He was going home.
To the woman he really, really liked.
 
 

Y
ou slept with him
more than a week ago
and you're just telling me
now
?”
Kate's incredulous voice came through Jamie's cell phone, the last word ending an entire octave higher than the first.
A wave broke, washing cool water and sand over Jamie's feet as she walked toward the pier, a welcome contrast to the hot late-afternoon sun blazing from a cloudless, piercing blue sky. “You and Ben were on your Caribbean cruise—I didn't want to bother you. How was the cruise by the way?”
“Terrific and quit changing the subject. Calling me to read the minutes from your last clam meeting would have bothered me. A call to report that you've had sex with your neighbor who you hated at first sight is cruise-interruption worthy. Besides, I've been home for three whole hours! Why didn't you call me sooner?”
“Between my mom, Alex, and Heather, it's nearly impossible to get any privacy around here. It practically took an act of Congress for me to slip away for a while.”

Heather
is there? Good Lord. So much for getting away by yourself. Tell me everything.”
Jamie filled her in on all the drama at Paradise Lost, and had just started in on the latest goings-on with the Clam Committee when Kate broke in.
“Clam stuff can wait. I want to hear about the sexy time with the sexy man. So—how was it?”
Incredible. Mind-blowing.
“Pretty good.”
“Pretty good as in ‘I lost count of how many orgasms I had,' or pretty good as in ‘eh—I've had better'?”
Jamie blew out a breath and reached down to pick up a shell. “Pretty good as in I lost count and I've never had better.”
Kate's whoop nearly pierced Jamie's eardrum. “So what the heck are you doing talking to me? Why aren't you in bed with him right this minute? Please tell me you're not letting your uninvited guests screw this up for you.”
“There's nothing to screw up because he's not here. I'm not in bed with him because he left.” The words were accompanied by a heart owie. She quickly brought Kate up to speed on the day she and Nick spent with Kevin and Liz, then continued, “He went to their house the morning after our second, um, interlude. He said he'd only be gone a few days, and that was a week ago. A week is a lot more than a
few
days.”
“He hasn't called?”
“We never exchanged cell numbers.”
“So you think he's avoiding you.”
Jamie picked up another small shell. “It's crossed my mind. He certainly wouldn't be the first guy who wanted to escape after sex.”
“True—but that would make him a jerk, and I'm sensing you no longer think he is.”
“I wish I did—it would make this so much easier. But darn it, Kate, I
like
him. Much more than I want to. Much more than is wise. And the more time I spend with him, the more I like him. And that scares me. I just got out of a relationship, which, as you know, ended badly. I don't want another one. I don't want to feel so strongly about any man, most especially one who I'll be leaving behind in three weeks when I return to New York.”
“Jamie, honey, that's what airports are for. Maybe the timing isn't perfect, but you know what? I don't think it ever is. God knows I wasn't looking to fall in love when I met Ben. I'd just started working at the hospital, my career required all my attention, and boom—Mr. Right walked in the door. He still had the bar exam to study for and pass, so the timing sucked all the way around. Ben and I are proof that if you're both committed to making it work, it can happen.”
“Yes, but you and Ben are in
love
. I'm just a little bit too much in
like
.”
“Which is only a heartbeat away from being in love.”
“But I don't
want
to be in love,” Jamie wailed. “He lives seven hundred miles away. A long-distance relationship just isn't feasible. Once I return to New York—you know how things are at work. I'll barely have time to breathe, let alone be flying down here. Before I came here this summer, I hadn't taken a vacation in three years—not since my dad died. Things won't be any different when I go back.”
“They could be—if you changed them.”
“I've tried to change things at Newman's but my mother refuses.”
“Then you need to change
her
. What happened to the strong, independent woman who went to Seaside Cove to reassess and recharge so she could take charge?”
Jamie paused and stared out at the ocean. “She got overrun by her family and confused by her feelings for a man who dazzled her and made her like him enough to get naked with him, and whom she hasn't seen since.”
“I hate to ask, but is there any chance he didn't think the sex was as great as you did?”
“Not unless he gave an Academy Award–winning performance. Based on his, um, enthusiasm, he found it as good as I did.”
“Yet you think he's avoiding you.”
Jamie raked a hand through her windblown hair. “I don't know what to think. Maybe he
wasn't
as satisfied as I believed. When I left his house that last night . . . the way he looked at me . . .”
“How?”
“I don't know how to describe it. Sort of a combination of ‘I don't want you to go' and ‘holy crap, I can't wait for you to get the hell out of here.' ”
“Ah-ha!” said Kate, her voice filled with triumph. “He
is
avoiding you! And not because he thought the sex was bad, but because it was stupendous.”
Jamie frowned. “That doesn't even make sense. What sort of man avoids you because the sex is stupendous?”
“A man who is no longer viewing it as ‘just sex.' A man whose heart is becoming involved.”
Jamie halted as if she'd walked into a wall of glass and her heart began thumping in fast, hard beats. “You think?”
“Jamie, from everything you've told me, it sounds like he cares. And if this thing between the two of you scares
you
, isn't it possible it scares him as well?”
“He doesn't seem like the sort who scares easily.”
“Well, neither are you. But here's a news flash—love scares everybody.”
Jamie felt a strong need to sit down. “Who said anything about love?” she asked, unable to keep panic from edging into her voice. “I've been talking about
like
. Only like.”
“Uh-huh. Which leads to love.”
“Which leads to heartache.”
“Or to happiness—as Ben and I can attest.”
“Not for two people who live seven hundred miles apart, Kate. Sure, it sounds all romantic and possible, but the harsh reality is it simply could never work. I couldn't keep a relationship going with a man who only lived two subway stops away.”
“Uh, that would be because he was a cheating asshole, not because of where he lived.”
“We'd never see each other. The relationship would just die a slow, painful death.” And that, she knew, would really break her heart. “I called you to talk me
out
of this impossible, can-only-lead-to-heartbreak relationship. I have to say, you're really not helping.”
“Probably because I'm not convinced it's impossible and I'd hate to see you give up on something that could be exactly what you've been looking for.”
“What I've been looking for is peace and quiet. Have I found it here? Ha! All I've gotten so far is a bombardment of the very people and sort of drama I was trying to get away from, and a guy who has me totally bewildered and out of sorts.”
“At least you enjoyed a bunch of orgasms.”
“Yes—which is one reason I'm so bewildered and out of sorts.”
“You never did say how many orgasms it was.”
“A lot. And again—not helping.”
Kate's sigh came through the phone. “Fine. I can't deny you have a point—long-distance relationships rarely work out. And a quick, final break is preferable to the slow, painful fading of feelings that occurs when a relationship dies.”
“Thank you.”
“Which means you have two choices.”
“Right. I can cut this off right now—assuming Nick hasn't already decided to do so.”
“Or you can just keep reminding yourself that this is only a temporary fling, quit worrying about anything beyond the next three weeks, and enjoy yourself for the time you're still there.”
“And then say good-bye and resume my life in New York.”
“Exactly. Just be sure you check your heart at the door.”
“Great advice. Except . . . what if it's too late about the checking-my-heart-at-the-door thing?”
“Then you're shit out of luck. If it were me, I'd take my chances and go the fling route. Odds are just as good that instead of falling madly in love over the next three weeks, you'll find out your first impression was correct and he really is nothing more than a pain in the ass. Hell, it might only take you three days—or three hours—to decide that.”
“That's true,” Jamie said, brightening at the thought. “Assuming he ever comes back to Seaside Cove.”
“If he doesn't, it's his loss and you'll know he's utterly foul. Feel better?”
“Yes.”
“Good. So there's no need for me to come down there and kick your butt?”
Jamie chuckled. “No. And as much as I'd love to see you, there's absolutely no room for you. Now tell me about your cruise.”
“Lots of sun, food, dancing, relaxing, and sex. And speaking of sex, my handsome husband just walked in the door after a hard day of lawyering, so I'm going to—”
“I don't need details,” Jamie said with a laugh. “Have fun. Thanks for the girl talk. Love you.”
“Love you, too. And that have-fun thing? Same goes.”
Jamie slipped her phone into the pocket of her shorts and realized she'd walked much farther down the beach than she'd anticipated and Oy Vey Mama Mia was just ahead. Unable to resist the lure of the place, she headed toward the wooden stairs that led to the ocean-facing patio. As soon as she reached the top, she was greeted by a beaming Maria.

Ciao, bella!
How lovely to see you! It seems like forever since you were here.” Maria engulfed her in a warm embrace, then kissed her on each cheek. When she pulled back, her eyes immediately filled with concern. “But what is wrong,
cara
? Something is troubling you.” Before Jamie could answer, Maria shouted, “Ira! Jamie is here and needs an
aperitivo.
A
negroni, por favore
. One for me as well.” She turned back to Jamie. “The
negroni
—it will make whatever ails you feel better. The restaurant is quiet—that lull between lunch and dinner, so we can talk. Come.” She pulled Jamie to a table in the corner and sat. “Tell Maria what is happening and why you haven't been to the restaurant for so long.”
Since she wasn't about to confide about getting naked with Nick, she forced aside all thoughts of him and said, “Nothing's wrong, I've just been busy with my visitors.” She'd just finished telling her about Heather's unexpected arrival when Ira bustled outside bearing a tray holding two glasses decorated with slices of orange peel.
“Hello, my dahling,” Ira said, setting down the tray on the table, then giving Jamie's cheek a smacking kiss. “I brought you ladies something to nosh on—a little whitefish salad, a little smoked salmon, and some prosciutto and Italian olives—I call it Israeli antipasto. Enjoy.” He dropped a kiss on his wife's head, then returned through the sliding screen door into the main restaurant.
They each picked up their drink and Maria clicked her glass to Jamie's. “
Salud!
” she toasted, then tossed back a healthy mouthful.
Figuring
when in Rome
, Jamie followed suit. And her eyes glazed over as the drink slid down her throat, filling her with what felt like liquid fire. “Delicious,” she proclaimed, “but potent. What's in this?”
“Gin, vermouth, and Campari,” Maria said, taking another swallow. “Two of them and your troubles disappear.”
“Two of them and I'll be unconscious,” Jamie said with a laugh.

Mangia,
” Maria said, pushing the tray of food closer to Jamie. “And continue telling me about your niece.”
Jamie continued, all the while sipping on the delicious, seductive
negroni
and nibbling on the noshes. Whether it was the alcohol, or Maria's gentle prodding, the next thing Jamie knew she'd told Maria all about her situation with Laurel. When she finished, she shook her head—which felt decidedly fuzzy. “Heavens. This
negroni
is like truth serum.”
Maria laughed. “That it is. It is also good for putting you in the mood for the
amore
.” She squeezed Jamie's hands. “It is a good thing you do for your niece. An unselfish thing. It speaks well of you,
cara.
As for your sister, I understand your anger toward her. I had a similar problem with my own sister when we both liked the same boy in our youth.”
“What happened?”
“Lucia and I, we exchanged many harsh words. In the end, Paolo chose her. I was devastated. But this tragedy, it was a blessing, for six months later I met my Ira. For those six months my heart was closed to her. To everyone. It did not open again until I met Ira. My love for him let me lose my anger toward Lucia. Because if not for her, I would have been with Paolo, who
portare male gli anni
—he does not age well.” She squeezed Jamie's hands. “My mama used to tell me that anger poisons the person who holds it. Forgiveness sets us free. Don't dwell on what Laurel did to you. Instead concentrate on finding your own happiness. And pity her, because now she is stuck with that
bischero
.”

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