Summers' Love, A Cute and Funny Cinderella Love Story (LPC Romantic Comedy Series) (28 page)

Just as he did every night.

And would until the lingering image of Kate no longer haunted him.

Chapter Thirty-four

The sun hung low behind a smudge of clouds as Kate rounded a bend on the path. Up on the bluff she saw a small, white church. The clapboard building reminded her of the one her daddy used to take her to on Sunday mornings. Her father’s church had stood in a thicket of hardwoods draped in Spanish moss, its front porch overlooking Hawksbill Creek and the edge of Pamlico Sound. She recalled its musty smells, the creak of hardwood flooring beneath wooden pews, and the tinny sound of the old piano as the congregation sang “Standing on the Promises of God.” She also recalled sitting beneath a tree outside that same church on a hot July day waiting for the hearse to arrive with her father’s body— the last man she had ever truly loved.

Until now.

The hike up the dirt path from Old Fort Marina had left her winded, but she didn’t mind. She was glad to be off the boat. Not that she hadn’t enjoyed the sail over from West Palm. A full day on the water was nothing to make light of. Especially when crossing the Gulf Stream alone. But with the help of the boat’s GPS she’d managed to navigate the north-flowing current and find her way into Old Fort Bay where her sloop now lay securely anchored.

Kate rounded a bend on the path and spotted him sitting on the steps with his back to her, long limber arms resting on knees, head canted downward as though thinking … or praying. The sight of him took her breath away and she paused, watching him from a distance as the deepening shadows of dusk concealed her presence. He was dressed in a faded blue tee shirt with a tear just below the surf logo, stained work shorts, and sandals. An empty water bottle rested beside his ankle. Taking a deep breath, she continued toward him.

At the sound of her footsteps he looked up. For a moment she wondered if he recognized her. His hair was a coarse crop of sun streaked bangs, about four shades lighter than she remembered. And longer. She suddenly felt stupid for coming all this way, for showing up unannounced. She had expected it to be easier once she saw him again. Thought she would know what to say.

She was wrong.

At the sight of her, he placed his palms behind his back and locked his elbows. He cocked his head, giving her a curious stare. For several seconds they stared at each other, neither speaking. She could not read his face. Confusion, surprise? Sadness? Even in the fading light of dusk she could tell he was thinner around the middle than she remembered, his face and arms baked to the color of old leather. His eyes were red. She wondered if he had been crying.

He looked past her, back down the path, then at her a second time. “How’d you find me?”

Kate took a deep breath, held it, and exhaled slowly.
God, please, give me strength.
“Wasn’t easy. When I couldn’t find you anywhere on the web except in newsfeeds, I thought I’d lost contact for good. Then I remembered something you said that night on the boat when we were eating dinner.”

“Which was?”

“That if you ever had a boy you were going to name him Benjamin Gray. So I Googled the name. Your blog came up. I read some of your posts.” She paused. “Okay, all of them. In one you mentioned living aboard an old boat at Old Fort Marina.” She paused again. “And I took a chance.”

He held his gaze, his eyes searching hers. “Guess I should have used a different alias.”

“Disappointed?”

He looked away and rubbed the stubble on his chin, as though collecting his thoughts. “Just wondering why you didn’t post a comment, is all. I could have saved you the trouble of flying down here.”

“I, ah … sailed over. From Florida.”

“By yourself?”

She tried not to read too much shock into his comment, though it did offend her that he doubted her sailing ability. “What? You think I can’t single-hand a sailboat?”

“I think you can do pretty much anything you set your mind to, Kate.” He brushed bangs from his eyes. “What do you want me to say?”

His brusque tone surprised her.

“Did you come down here to tell me how idiotic I looked on television when I announced that I couldn’t write? Is that it?”

“No, of course not. I would never …”

“Or how on the plane ride to New York people kept pointing and whispering. How in the cab, I couldn’t tell the driver where I lived because my publisher had already filed an injunction against me and locked me out of my condo? The condo I listed for sale so I could give you a dream home and a …?” He shook his head. “Is that what you want to hear?”

She had hoped he would be happy to see her, but it was obvious he was still upset with her. “You’re right. This is a mistake. I should go.”

He stroked his cheek with the back of his hand, the hurt evident on his face. “I left messages for you, Kate. Dozens. You never returned a one.”

“I, ah …” She struggled to find the right words. “Wrote you a bunch of emails. Right after Charleston.”

His eyebrows arched. “Really? I never got them.”

“That’s because I never actually sent them.”

“Figures.”

The sarcasm was evident in his voice. Oh, how she wished she could take back the last four months, wish and pray and make it all go away. She crossed her arms and stared at the tops of her scuffed boat shoes.

“I didn’t return your calls because I was too afraid. Afraid you were still upset with me. You are, aren’t you?” Her gaze drifted up.

He shrugged. “Not like I was.”

“I wish you weren’t. I wish we could just forget what happened in Charleston and move on.”

With a heavy sigh he rocked forward and rested his elbows on knees. His eyes remained a liquid blue, like the waters around Nassau, but that smile she loved so much was gone.

“I wish I could act like Charleston never happened but it did. You fell in love with the dream, Kate. The fictional character I created. Then when it turned out I wasn’t the man you thought I was, you dumped me. I get that. Can’t say as I blame you. But what I don’t get is how you could be so upset with me for basing a character in my novel on the girl of
my
dreams when you yourself would rather fall in love with someone who doesn’t even exist.” He looked toward the harbor and spoke as if speaking aloud to himself. “You’re no different than the women who read my novels. You’d rather fantasize about falling in love with some hunk with ripped abs than actually love the poor schmuck standing in front of you asking you to marry him.”

“Not
your
novels,” she shot back. “
You
didn’t write them.”

She regretted the comment as soon as she said it.

“Oh, right. Thanks for reminding me. I’d almost forgotten how I’m a cheap hack who can’t even write his own name.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“Sure you did. This right here, you and me?” He pointed first to himself and then to her. “This is why I only dated models and celebs. At least with them I
knew
I was their trophy date. But then you came along and something inside me changed. When Hattie told me I needed to trust my heart, take a chance, I did. But then you found out who I really am and bailed.” His eyes narrowed. “Just like I knew you would.”

“Please, it’s not like that at all. If you would just let me explain.”

“The thing is, Kate, I fell in love with
you
, not some make-believe character in a novel. And I was prepared to spend my whole life getting to know that person.”

She looked away, unable to meet his eyes.

“Come on, Kate. Where’s the snappy comeback? Tell me I’m wrong.”

She could feel tears beginning to form. She hesitated for a long moment, unsure what to say. “You’re right,” she began, struggling with his words. “In my mind, I wanted the Stu on the back cover of the book. The one I saw that first night in the bookstore. But in my heart I think I already knew he wasn’t real. Even before the press conference I knew. Don’t ask me how, but I did. It was something in the way you acted on the boat, your words. They didn’t match the public image. They were … too sincere.” She spoke softly, trying to keep from crying. “Something wonderful happened between us, Stu. Something special and miraculous.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I don’t want to lose that.”

“You’re too late, Kate. It’s already gone. It left when you did.”

Hard as she tried, she could not stop the tears from trickling down her cheeks. She turned away, moving toward the edge of the bluff. The sun was nearly gone now. A smattering of stars peeked behind the curtain of the northern sky. If only she hadn’t been so quick to believe that he’d lied to her about those chapters on the web, but how could she not? That’s what men do. They sneak and cheat and lie.

“You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here, Kate.”

She thumbed her eyes dry, sniffed, and turned back toward him. “I wanted to explain why I didn’t return your calls or texts.”

“Does it matter?”

Struggling to compose herself, she strolled back to the steps where he sat. “I got arrested.” She caught herself fighting to control her emotions. “That’s why you didn’t hear from me.”

Stu gave her a curious look, as if he hadn’t heard her correctly. “Come again?”

There was a hint of surprise in his response. She hoped that was a good sign.

“Oh, because of the stun gun thing,” he added.

“No, not that, thank God.” She swiped away a lingering tear. “They charged me with grand theft. Can you believe that? I boost a tricycle and Charleston police make like I’m Al Capone.”

With a look of surprise he said, chuckling. “You stole a tricycle?”

Once again she realized how much she’d missed his gentle smile and the softness in his voice.

Kate shook her head. “It was one of those three-wheeled rickshaws they use to chauffeur tourists around.”

“Why would you … never mind. It’s none of my business.”

“I was trying to get to the hospital. I saw your press conference and I needed to find you before you left. But then the police ran my name through the system and it popped up that I was a possible suspect in a breaking and entering case in D.C. Before I could explain that I’d broken into my own home, they locked me up. I called my brother. It took him a while to come up with bail money. He had to take all my jewelry and some other stuff to a pawn shop. Things sort of went downhill from there.”

“Wait. Back up. Why did you break into your own home?”

“I got evicted.” She offered a wistful smile. “Ironic, huh?”

He cocked his head slightly and laughed. “I’ll say. Both of us homeless. But at least you still have a j—”

She shook her head, cutting him off. “I lost my job, too.
And
Tasmania Tasers let me go as well.”

“They fired their top sales person?”

His voice had lost its hard edge. She had to keep him talking. Tell him the truth, she told herself. All of it. He’ll forgive you once he understands.

“Funny thing about selling stun guns for the world’s largest self defense products safety company. They prefer that their sales reps not have a criminal record.” She tried to smile. “Or go around tasing people.”

“Yeah, I’m guessing you’re not the poster child they had hoped for.”

Stu rose and took a few steps toward the church graveyard. After a moment, Kate followed him. He stared down at the boats anchored in the harbor below. She wondered if he could guess which one was hers.

Turning toward her he asked, “Want to see my scar?”

“You have a scar?”

He lifted his shirt. She reached out and gently touched a small area slightly below his heart. He twitched slightly. She was amazed that after all this time the touch of his skin still sent bolts of excitement racing through her. That, too, struck her as ironic.

“I am sorry. Sorry about all of it.” She fought the urge to take his hand and pull him into her arms. To rest her head on his shoulders.

He let his shirt drop, turned, and walked back toward the church.

Kate took his elbow. “Hang on a second. I have something for you.” She reached into her hip pocket and handed him the small leather-bound book.

“What’s this?”

“My diary. I wrote down every moment we shared, all of it. It’s yours to keep. Use it, don’t use it, doesn’t matter. I’m giving you permission to write about me. About us.”

He opened the book and studied the first page where, in large block letters, she’d written: MOMENTS WITH MY BEST FRIEND.

“I didn’t leave you,” she said in a soft voice. “I would never do that.”

He studied her face. The hard lines around his eyes softened. Giving him the diary had helped, but would it be enough? He handed the diary back to her.

Apparently not.

“I can’t. It’s sweet of you but …”

His voice trailed off. Kate suddenly felt her stomach tighten. She gripped the diary as though it were a knot at the end of her proverbial rope.