Wet: Whispering Cove, Book 2 (7 page)

Still, he didn’t miss the sadness in her eyes, that spoke of longing, loneliness. Katy was a light in the darkness, shining brighter than any lighthouse beacon, but lately, whenever he’d caught her daytime cooking show, he’d noticed that her light had dimmed, the spark gone from her beautiful blue eyes.

He knew her well enough to know that she was unhappy. But last night the spark had returned tenfold. He’d seen it when they were playing pool, and when they were up at Dresden Bluff, which begged the question—was Katy trying to find her way home?

He couldn’t say for certain, and he honestly had no idea what she was hoping the next eight weeks would bring, but he was damn well going to give her an incentive to stay. He was never one to be selfish, especially when it came to Katy, but it was about time she realized where she belonged, and he was just the guy to help light the path and show her the way back.

He glanced at the clock as he worked on a new seafood primavera sauce. It was nearing lunch and he was hoping to take a break and catch Katy at the Seafarer. A noise behind him drew his attention, and he spun around to see Katy standing in the doorway, dressed in her sexy, fifties-style uniform from the restaurant. She held a tray with coffee and muffins and her wide smile showcasing perfect white teeth took his breath away.

“I thought you’d run away,” she said, her eyes bright, alive and playful when they locked on his.

He shook his head, and without thinking said, “I’ve never run out on you before.”

Katy frowned and he instantly realized it was a poor choice of words.

“Didn’t you get my note?” he hurriedly said, not wanting to put a damper on her visit.

The corners of her mouth turned up. “Yeah. Just like old times.”

He dropped his spoon and closed the distance between them. He pitched his voice low and said, “Katy, about last night.”

Her smile dissolved and a worried look came over her face. “What about it?”

“I’d like a repeat of it tonight.”

She grinned, and looked so damn beautiful it was all he could do not to take her right there. He leaned in and dropped a soft kiss onto her mouth, and took pleasure in the new, easy intimacy blossoming between them.

She kissed him back hungrily, then said, “It’d be my pleasure, but…”

Trent shook his head. “No buts, Katy.” When she got quiet for a moment, her blue eyes narrowing with concern, he asked, “Okay, what is it?”

She paused, and seemed to weigh her words carefully before blurting out, “Well, it’s just that Granddaddy Errol told me business was down at the Seafarer and he thought I could come up with new menu ideas to attract more tourists. I’ve been working on a menu and need the kitchen tonight after closing to try them out.”

He shook his head, perplexed. “Business is down?”

Katy handed him his coffee and they both sat at the table. “Yeah, I know. I thought the same. But why would he lie about such a thing?”

Trent shrugged, not really sure, and took a slug of the rich brew. “Maybe there are things you don’t know.”

“I suppose.” She opened a napkin and laid out the muffins. She crinkled her nose and added, “Look, he asked me not to say.”

Always priding himself on trust and honesty, Trent shook his head and pressed his fingers to her lips. “Hey, did you forget who you were talking to?”

Her smile turned sheepish. “Sorry.”

He took a moment to mull over Errol’s concerns. As he considered them, he couldn’t help but recall the voice on the other end of his cell, the one that had warned him of the trash-can fire. Something wasn’t adding up, but now wasn’t the time to be dwelling on such things, not with Katy sitting next to him, smelling like honeyed candy and looking so damn sweet and sexy, she had his cock thickening to the point of pain.

He redirected the conversation. “So if not tonight, tomorrow?”

“I’ll be counting down the minutes,” she answered, a spark dancing in her eyes as she bit into her muffin. “And besides, aren’t you on shift tonight?”

He cocked his head and questioned, “How’d you know that?”

She grinned. “Maybe I really do know more about you than you think.”

“Maybe,” he said, then frowned. “But soon the world is going to know everything about me too.”

Expressive blue eyes met his. “I really don’t know what the sudden interest is all about? And I don’t know who tipped the media off or even why anyone would do such a thing.”

“Did they follow you here?”

“Yeah, but I managed to ditch them before sneaking in the back door.”

He leaned into her, and brushed a muffin crumb from her mouth. “You always were very stealthy, Katy.”

She arched a manicured brow. “Is that why I was the only girl you let climb the trees with you?”

“Among other reasons.” When heat suffused her cheeks, he added, “I’m just glad you were able to ditch them. I hate all the attention.”

She chuckled and waved her hand over her bubble-gum-pink uniform. “Yeah, well ditching them with this on was no easy task.”

When Trent laughed, she pursed her lips and in a sober voice asked, “Have you been watching television?”

“No.” The last thing he wanted to see was himself splashed across the screen.

“Well, the media is making me out to be America’s sweetheart, and you, the heroic firefighter, my teenage crush who once again swept me off my feet. Apparently people are eating it up.”

“They don’t really care anything about us, Katy.”

“I know.”

“They’re not even respecting our privacy.”

“I know that too.” She let loose a long sigh. “And when the next breaking story hits, we’ll be forgotten like yesterday’s newspaper.”

“Well let’s hope that happens sooner rather than later.” He slid his hand across the table. “At least it’s good to see the townsfolk trying to protect you. They care.” Which made him feel secure in the knowledge that no one from Whispering Cove would have alerted the press to her return. Unless, of course, they wanted Katy to realize who she could count on and exactly where she truly belonged.

She gave him a warm smile, then blinked and looked past his shoulder. The pot on the stove and the aromatic scent wafting through the kitchen seemed to draw her attention. She inhaled. “What are you cooking?”

“It’s a new seafood primavera.”

Katy climbed from her seat and walked to the stove. “Trent, this smells amazing.”

“Want to try?”

He grabbed a spoon and gave her a taste. Her eyes widened in delight. “This is delicious. When did you learn to cook?”

“Well, my ex-girlfriend
is
a famous celebrity chef. And because of that, the guys around here expect me to know my way around a kitchen.” Trent watched her, gauging her reactions and giving her an opening to correct him on the ex-girlfriend comment. She didn’t. Instead she took another bite and looked over the ingredients.

“Will you teach me how to make this?”

Trent straightened. As he stared at her, he jammed his thumb into his chest. “Me? Teach
the
Kathleen Wilson how to cook?”

“I think this would go over great at the restaurant.”

He pulled a towel off the counter and tied it around his waist. “Okay,” he agreed. “On one condition.”

Incredulous, she clutched her chest and feigned surprise. “You have a condition?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, what is it?” she conceded.

He gave her a devious wink. “Today we cook in my kitchen, tomorrow night we cook in yours.”

“Same old Trent.” Katy rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Do you ever give up?”

“No, Katy,” he answered honestly, and something warm and intimate moved between them when his glance locked with hers.

A long moment passed as they stared at each other. “I’m glad,” she finally murmured in a soft voice that had his heart pounding and his body aching to make love to her on the firehouse floor.

Needing a distraction before he did just that, he handed her the wooden spoon and instructed her to stir the sauce while he took a moment to pull himself together. In no time at all, the two fell into an easy camaraderie, enjoying themselves and the few stolen moments together. Out on the streets, the cameras were still rolling, but here, alone in the firehouse and cloaked in a cocoon of intimacy, they could talk quietly and touch freely.

The next hour flew by as Trent and Katy experimented with new menu ideas, and he couldn’t help but think how much it felt like old times. Before he knew it, her lunch break had come to an end and she had to return to the restaurant. Once she was gone, he tidied up and stored the sauce in the fridge. Katy had added a few touches of her own to the sauce. The men working the graveyard shift were in for a real treat tonight. Once he had the kitchen in order, he pulled his cell out of his front pocket and put in a call to Brody.

“Hey, Trent,” Brody said when he answered the phone.

“Hey, just checking to see if you had any information on the cottage.”

“Yeah, looks like a few of the cedar boards over her door came loose. They were banging in the wind. Nothing serious.”

Trent considered it for a moment. Brody’s theory was possible, but still he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that someone had been outside.

“You’d better get them fixed up before they cause any real damage.”

“I’m on it.” Trent checked the time and heard Adam outside shooting hoops. He’d come in early, which meant that Trent could get him to cover for the next few hours so he could do the repairs himself. He was about to hang up but then another thought struck. “What’s happening with the damn camera crew?”

Jesus, he hated the paparazzi, and the last place he expected to find them was in Whispering Cove. How the hell had they found out about Katy and him? He knew there was a part of her life that was public, but over the last ten years she’d kept her private life…well, private. Why were the media suddenly so interested in her, and her love life
now
?

“We’ve got them under control,” Brody assured him. “We can’t keep them off the streets but we can keep them out of the shops and restaurants.” He grunted something under his breath and added, “I also can’t keep tourists, or anyone else for that matter, from being interviewed. So far it appears the town’s protecting her privacy.”

Trent clenched his jaw, happy the townsfolk had her back and unhappy about the fact that he couldn’t spend time with her without their every movement captured and splashed across the TV.

After hanging up, he talked to Adam then loaded his truck with tools and made his way to the beachside cottage. Waves sounded in the distance and a few blocks away Trent could hear the vendors vying for the tourist dollar as he walked the perimeter and examined the exterior. He stepped onto the cedar deck and shooed away the seagulls that had taken up perch on the railing.

Despite the white paint chips gathering on the rose bushes like dander, and a few broken cedar boards hanging by rusty nails and oxidized from the salty sea water, the place was in pretty good shape. By rights, Alex Sutherland, the owner, should be fixing it up, but something compelled Trent to do it himself. Maybe because he liked doing things for Katy.
Wanted
to do things for her.

He grabbed his ladder and went to work, fixing the loose boards and even doing a few extra repairs on the roof. As he stood back and brushed the moisture from his face, he nodded, pleased with the outcome. Truthfully, he was used to doing such repairs. His own place was old and once belonged to a sea captain.

He could update, buy a newer, more modern home, but he kind of liked the old place, and since he was good with his hands, he could do most of the general repairs himself. As a teen he remembered how much Katy had liked the house with its towering widow’s walk and how they’d drive around and point out the houses they’d like to live in.

Disregarding the fact that the house was meant for a big family and he didn’t even have furniture for over half the rooms, he had bought it anyway. Maybe on some unconscious level he’d hoped it would help Katy find her way back to him, and together they could fill it with children.

He’d gotten very little sleep last night and now exhaustion pulled at him. He threw the supplies back into his truck and made his way to the station. He exchanged a few words with Adam then hit the sack. When he woke a few hours later, he spotted a couple of the other guys catching up on their sleep. Quietly climbing out of his cot, he made his way to the kitchen, only to find Adam and Errol playing cards at the table.

Errol? What the hell was Errol doing there?

“Errol,” he said, greeting him with a nod and smoothing his mussed hair off his face.

Errol offered him a snarl and pointed his cane. “’Bout time you got your sorry ass out of bed.”

“Errol,” Trent began, and pinched the bridge of his nose to ward off an impending headache, but Errol cut him off.

“I think there’s trouble out on the st
rrr
eets.”

Trent made his way to the coffeepot, certain he’d need caffeine before he heard the rest of Errol’s story. The guy was not known as an alarmist, but of late Trent was beginning to wonder. He poured himself a mug and when Adam held up his empty cup, Trent refreshed his before replacing the carafe.