Chapter 3
Jess
My eyes fluttered almost shuton a moan when I bit into the macaron. As always, Meli’s version of the treat managed to be both crunchy and creamy, and the almond flavor contrasted perfectly with the filling, making the whole thing just melt in my mouth.
“Oh my gawwwwwd,” I mumbled as I chewed.
My friend smiled, her elbows propped on the display counter of her bakery, and watched me enjoy her delicacy. “You like it? I tried a new filling—it’s cherry cream, and I think it goes fabulously with the almond flour.”
I reluctantly swallowed. “It’s like…it’s like a little baby angel came down to earth and pooped in my mouth.”
Meli straightened, eyes wide. “That’s…the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said about my baking.”
“It’s amazing,” I sighed, shoving the rest of the bite-sized treat into my mouth.
“A less incredible compliment, but probably easier to write on the chalkboard outside.”
“I dunno.” I shrugged and reached for the iced tea she’d poured me without asking when I’d walked in. “Baby angels would at least get some attention.”
To my surprise, Meli sighed and slid out from behind the counter, coming to my little table and sliding into the chair opposite mine. “This place could use some attention.”
Hmm.Not the first time she’d mentioned flagging sales, but it wasn’t like Meli to get down about it. She normally had the kind of personality that brightened the room, and not just because of her macarons.
It was like she’d read in a manual somewhere that the owner of the small-town bakery was supposed to be bubbly and cheerful, and she was doing her best to perpetuate the stereotype. And it was real. She never put on a front, never had to, because she was always cheerful.
So obviously, I was alarmed. I mean, not alarmed enough to not shove another macaron in my face, but still.
“’At bad?” I mumbled rudely.
Best friends don’t care when you talk with your mouth full, thank goodness. Meli just shrugged and reached for my drink, taking a sip from the opposite side.
“I heard this morning that Mrs. Masterson wants to retire and move to the city to be nearer her daughter’s family. She’s looking to sell the bookstore.” Meli plopped her chin back onto her knuckles. “If we can’t find anyone to fill the three storefronts already available on this road, how is she going to convince someone to move to Eastshore to take over an independent bookstore? And I heard another of the elementary teachers is leaving too.”
Well, damn. There went my macaron-fueled happiness.
This had been the complaint of most of the businesses on the island, and the subject of today’s meeting with the town council. I winced at the memory.
It was like Meli could read my mind. “How’d the meeting go today?”
“It was…interesting,” I hedged.
And it had been.
I was cautiously optimistic, in fact. But only cautiously.
It was Karnak, interestingly, who had inadvertently given me the idea I pitched today. Oh, I’d been preparing for the meeting for weeks, and had a binder full of ideas to counter Geoffrey’s crass hotel proposal.
But after two evenings of chatting with my gorgeous and elusive next-door neighbor, I had a late-night epiphany.
Well, actually, I had a post-orgasm epiphany.
Because yeah, last night had been super-awkward, what with the him-catching-me-butt-naked-in-the-hot-tub thing, but once he started talking about how people like him didn’t have a real place in our world…and how he preferred the remoteness of the island…well, it got me thinking.
Mainlyit got me thinking about that amazing chest and arms of his, and after he’d run away—way to chase him off, Jess—I’d spent some time fantasizing about what it would be like to touch them.
What it would be like to have him touch me.
But after the fantasizing, after the late-night snack of cheese and wine, and after yet another round with my vibrator—because why not?—the idea had hit me.
Today I’d pitched it, and it had gone…surprisingly well. Not a disaster, anyway.
“Interesting, how?” Meli prompted. “Was Geoffrey being a jerk again—good afternoon, Mr. Wilson!”
She popped up to help the customer who’d just entered, the door making a cheerful little chime as it bumped against the bells hanging above it.
Meli’s Bake Shoppe—she’d added the extra P and E because she thought it sounded cuter—did most of its business in the morning, but she’d learned that her neighbors liked to pick up treats on the way home from work, and therefore stayed open until five-thirty each day just for people like Mr. Wilson. Her assistant often handled the afternoon shift, since Meli came in so early, but business must’ve been slow today.
Usually when I swung by for my afternoon tea and cookie, the place was empty, so I sat at the little table behind the counter—as I did now—and we had plenty of time to gossip or complain or whatever.
“What are you ladies chit-chatting about today?” the older man asked as Meli boxed up four muffins for him.
“Oh, nothing much.” My friend sent me a smirk. “Just how Jess is going to save Eastshore, thanks to her fancy job working with the city council.”
“Excellent! Hopefully she’s found a way to attract some new blood.” Mr. Wilson fumbled with his wallet, looking for the correct bill. “The hardware store can only put on so many fairs, you know.”
“Tomorrow’s fair is going to be awesome, Mr. Wilson,” I offered, toasting him with my iced tea. “They always are—keep up the good work.”
“I’ll keep advertising, if you find more tourists,” he declared with a wink as he took his box. “Have a nice evening, ladies.”
Mr. Wilson was one of the reasons I loved this town. Well, I mean, maybe not him specifically, but what he represented: neighbors who’ve made a life here, who were invested in the community. Like I was.
My mom would’ve adored the hardware shop; I could just imagine her standing in front of the paint options and trying to decide what color the living room would be this year, or picking out tomato plants for her gardens.
She would’ve loved conversations with Mr. Wilson about hardware-y things, or Ms. Albee at the library, and oh God she would love the weekly markets.
I sighed. Eastshore had been Mom’s dream, and when I’d visited, I was surprised how close I felt to her here. Weird, I know, but that was the first reason I’d fallen in love with this island.
But now? Now, Eastshore was my home, and I loved it just as much as she would have. And I was desperate to keep it alive.
As if she heard my thoughts, Meli sighed, “We don’t need tourists,” when she joined me once more. “We need new residents. People who see how wonderful this place is, and want to stay here. None of that summer-tourist town crap, full of vacation homes and hotels. We need new neighbors.”
It was an ongoing debate. The town council mostly felt—and I agreed—that the town could be revitalized by allowing a few hotels to be built. As it stood now, the only lodging for tourists were a few bed and breakfasts.
But that’s what made Eastshore so…so…so damned quaint.
We didn’t have a bunch of high rises, or people who only visited a few months of the year. We were neighbors, as Meli said, and I wanted to do my best to keep it that way.
“Yeah,” I agreed with a sigh of my own.
“Sooo, Geoffrey.” My bestie rolled her eyes. “Was he being a jerk today?”
“When is he ever not being a jerk?”
She huffed. “How can a man that hot be that much of an asshole?”
There was a time when I would’ve agreed with Meli about how hot Geoffrey was. He did have that charming, sleek sort of trust-fund attractiveness of someone who knows he’s good looking.
But his attitude made him ugly.
I sighed. “His presentation about the acreage on the north end of the island—the nature reserve?—where he wants to build a hotel… He had folders for everyone on the council, Meli. Laminated maps, a little three-dimensional rendering of the building, computer-generated pictures of the lobby, individually embossed with our names, everything.”
“Urgh. Definitely a jerk.”
Geoffrey A. Harrison was from the city and had moved to Eastshore the year after I did. He was young and handsome and polished, and his suits fitted him so well they had to be tailored. You’d think he wouldn’t fit in in a homey little town like Eastshore, but Geoffrey A. Harrison was very good at being the sort of guy who people needed around.
I was pretty sure the “A” stood for “asshole,” and I was particularly pissed at him today.
“Well, his presentation was likely over-the-top, but I know the council would try literally anything else before they approved the hotel, right?” Meli was twirling the teaspoon between her fingers, a nervous gesture I always thought seemed adorable. “So what idea of yours wowed them?”
I took a deep breath. “Actually… I think they are going to go with one of my ideas.”
“Yes!” she pumped the air, narrowly avoiding stabbing me in the face with the spoon. “Super-awesome Community Development Coordinator for the win! I knew you’d pull our asses out of the fire!”
The fire. Right.
“Geoffrey wasn’t happy about it,” I muttered, tracing my finger through the condensation on my glass.
“Of course he wasn’t. You showed him up. He needs to go back to the city.”
“He…” I swallowed, not meeting Meli’s eyes. “Afterward, he told me he’d back my suggestion…if I dated him.”
I didn’t need to look up, I could hear Meli’s indignation.
“He said what? Did you call HR?”
“Our council is mostly volunteer, Meli. The two clerks, Geoffrey and I are the only full-time employees.”
She huffed. “Well you need to report him to someone. The police chief?”
Eastshore had a police department, sure. It was housed in the same building as the rest of the government offices, and we used the single jail cell to store the copy paper, bunting for the annual parades, and vital coffee-making supplies.
“I’ll be fine, Meli.” I offered her a smile, but knew from her scowl that I’d failed. “I didn’t say yes.” I mean, I didn’t say no either. I couldn’t afford to make an enemy of Geoffrey A. Harrison.
“Asshole,” my bestie muttered, but didn’t push it. “So…what’s your grand plan to save Eastshore?”
I took a deep breath, knowing she’d support me no matter what. But I had to figure out a way to convince the rest of the town it was a good idea.
“You know my next-door neighbor?”
“The Hills? With the three kids? Half dozen blueberry muffins each Sunday.”
“No.” I could feel myself blushing. “The other side.”
“Oooh, you mean the gorgeous, seven-and-a-half-foot-tall green beach bum,” she teased.
I felt myself bristle. “He’s not a beach bum!”
“Please. He’s independently wealthy and spends his days showing off that cute butt of his up and down the beaches. Don’t think you’re the only one admiring his body, Jess.”
She was my best friend. Of course we’d gotten drunk and talked about how hot Karnak was.
Still, I was trying to be professional about it.
“Well, we’ve been talking—”
“Talking?” she squealed. “Talking, talking? And you didn’t tell me?”
“Wha—No, not like that. Just…talking.”
“Ah.” Meli nodded sagely. “Just significant pause talking. Gotcha.”
Oh Lord, she was going to make me tell her everything, wasn’t she? “Look, he was kinda helping me find Muffin, alright? Well, he was asking about her, at least. And then last night, he was coming back from his swim when I was in the hot tub, and we started—”
“Oh my God, you were in the hot tub?” Meli’s expression was a mixture of horror and glee. “You were in the—you were naked, weren’t you?”
I rolled my eyes. “He couldn’t see anything. I made certain.”
“Oh, I’m sure he saw plenty. Girl, you have the sexiest shoulders—”
“Shut up.” I stuck my fingers in my tea and flicked the liquid at her. “I do not.”
Her tea-shower didn’t seem to faze her. “What else did he see?”
I wasn’t going to tell her about the way I’d forgotten to hold myself steady and my butt had floated up and I’d sworn, for just a second, that Karnak had glanced at it. But that didn’t stop me blushing deep enough to match my hair.
The fact his glance had only been a glance…I wasn’t sure if I was irritated by that or not.
Because yeah, you wouldn’t mind knowing he was looking at you the way you look at him!
Meli suddenly gasped. “Jess. Jess. Tell me you didn’t…” Her eyes were wide and sparkling. “When he saw you in the tub, you weren’t… Were you?”
Oh Lord.
I closed my eyes, certain my cheeks were going to burst into flames once more.
This is what happens when you have three glasses of prosecco and explain to your bestie the benefits of a jetted hot tub. The jets had the ability to…sort of hit you in all the right spots, if you get what I’m saying.
Wink-wink.
I masturbate in my hot tub, in case I’m being too subtle.
Don’t judge.
I’m in charge of my tub, I keep my PH balanced, I know all the chemicals—or lack thereof—and I regularly drain it and clean it. It’s my happy place.
And yeah, after a stressful day, when I don’t want the bother of a vibrator or a dildo, I can hop into my tub, position myself correctly so one of those jets hits my clit, and… Well, you get the idea.
It’s a quick, easy, and often brutal orgasm. Not as good as having something up inside me, but I love the way the jet sort of assaults my clitoris, unrelentingly…
Tea flicked over my face.
“I can see I’m right, by the way,” Meli chirped.
My eyes flew open to see my bestie looking smug as she dried her fingers.
“I wasn’t doing that,” I snapped. “I only do that after dark.” When no one can see me, fence or not.
My best friend was clearly trying not to giggle. “Okay, okay. So you were naked in your hot tub. You weren’t masturbating, but let’s be honest, Karnak is like some kind of Greek god come to life, so you were absolutely thinking about—”
“We were talking!” I interrupt. “About all sorts of things.”
“Oh yes.” Meli propped her chin up on her hands again. “And here we are, back to the point of the story. Go on, Miss Community Development Coordinator.”
I took a deep breath, praying my blush would subside, trying to be professional.
“We were talking about why he chose Eastshore. He said people like him wanted a place to belong.” Well, no, he hadn’t said that, but I’d extrapolated. “Since he and the others left their world to join ours, they don’t have a real place to call home. He—and Tanis and Cairo, and all the others I tried to find last night online—are living their lives as privately as they can. Why?”
Meli shrugged. “Maybe orcs are private. Solitary. Loners.”
“Or maybe they don’t feel like they belong in our world.” I was leaning forward in my excitement, trying to make her understand. “Some of them have made communities for themselves, since they came out of hiding. I think that’s why Tanis came to Eastshore originally, because he’s not a loner, and he wanted to join Karnak. Remember how so many people were angry, realizing orcs and other non-humans had been living hidden on Earth for generations, and they wanted—” I shuddered. “Well, I can understand why orcs might want to live away from humans.”
“I do too,” Meli agreed quietly.
“There’s all those stories about the hidden towns up in the mountains, where they’ve been living. They want privacy. But that doesn’t mean living separate from humans. Karnak—and Cairo, and their friends—are evidence of that.”
I sat back in my chair, hands spread, inviting her praise.
Instead, she frowned. “I’d want privacy too, if I were in their position. I mean, I’m pretty outgoing”—understatement—“but it’s gotta be really difficult to try to live someplace you’re not familiar with. You’re saying we should leave them alone?”
“No! I’m saying…” I forced myself to breathe deeply. “Eastshore Isle is secluded, thanks to the ferry. We’re not cut off from the world, but we’re private. Our town is small and quaint and frankly, adorable. And we need new…blood.”
Meli pursed her lips in thought. “And this helps, how?”
“I’m in charge of community development, right? I think this is how we save Eastshore.” I took another deep breath and held it. “We build a community. We invite the orcs and the others to our island. To live. Permanently.”
It took a moment, but my friend’s smile slowly bloomed. “That’s…that could totally work. And I’ll bet Geoffrey hated the idea.”
Another plus, frankly.
“He wasn’t thrilled. About half the council is all for it, and the other half hemmed and hawed until I convinced them.” I grinned proudly. “I have permission to start a campaign, and reach out to as many of the orcs as I can, offering them incentives to move to Eastshore.”
“Holy shit,” breathed Meli in excitement. “You mean we’re going to get more gorgeous green men?”
“What, two aren’t enough?” I teased.
“Please. You claimed that hunk next door to you—and now that he’s seen your hot tubbing experience, miss, he’s hooked, I know—and our local resident mechanic has the personality of a mushroom.”
“Really?” I cocked my head, pretending to consider the comparison. “I would’ve said Cairo’s personality is more like a refrigerator.”
We blinked at one another for a moment, then began to giggle.
Meli pushed to her feet. “So how are you going to find all these people and invite them to live here?”
“I thought…” And this was the part that made me hesitate. “I thought Karnak might be able to help.”
“Aha!” This time when Meli pumped the air the spoon went flying, but she ignored it. “I knew you were doing more than talking to him.”
“No, I just meant…” Whoops, there went the blush again. “I thought I might bring him some of your muffins or something, and sort of…ask him for the contact info of every orc he might know?”
Meli snorted. “Terrible, Jess. Just terrible.” She bustled behind the counter, folding one of her cute pink boxes into the correct dimensions. “But at least he could tell you if your idea is a good one. I mean, he chose Eastshore, and so did Cairo and Tanis, right? And they’ve stayed. There’s got to be something they like about it. Maybe the others will too.”
It was my hope.
The council had given me the rest of the year to make it happen. If Eastshore continued to lose population, we were going to have to go with Geoffrey’s hotel scheme, and I hated the thought of this sweet town turning into a tourist destination like that.
I wanted more businesses like Meli’s Bake Shoppe and more families like the Hills. I wanted the school full of kids, not losing teachers because there wasn’t enough need. I wanted our weekly fairs to be big enough to draw food trucks and outside vendors. I wanted our annual summer celebration to feel like a family, not awkward interlopers. I wanted to see this town thriving, not in spite of its seclusion, but because of it.
Meli was already bent over the display case. “I have four blueberry left, and six cranberry. What do you think Karnak would like?”
I could only guess.
Frankly, that’s what all this was about, wasn’t it? Guessing at what people like him would like…
“Um, how about three of each?”
I paid Meli double, because that’s what friends did—and because the afternoon macarons were always free—and blew her a kiss on my way out the door.
Her call of “Good luck!” echoed in my head as I walked home.
I needed all the luck I could get.