Chapter Thirty
Thirty
Shelby put her phone away and hoped she didn’t look as uncomfortable as she felt. She’d done the right thing making the call, but it interrupted the romantic vibe.
“Sorry about that,” she said.
“No need to apologize,” he said. “Amazing you know just who to call.”
She blushed, feeling bad for not disclosing that she knew exactly who to call because it was her ex-boyfriend. It seemed a little presumptuous to offer up that kind of information—as if Anders cared.
“Do you mind waiting until help arrives? I just want to make sure no one comes by first and messes with it,” Shelby said to Anders.
“Not at all. Do you think it’s injured?”
She eyed the helpless animal. Sometimes the seals, or sea turtles, or dolphins were ill or injured, and sometimes it was just the tricky geography of the coast. The Cape was shaped like a hook encircling Cape Cod Bay, which made navigating back to open ocean challenging.
Minutes later, Doug MacDougal appeared on the dunes carrying a large duffel bag and a banana box. “Hey there, Shelby!” He gave her a wave and began roping off the perimeter.
She turned to Anders. “You met him at your book reading. His girlfriend owns the bookstore.”
“Such a small world out here.”
Justin appeared right behind Doug with a first aid kit. Very small world .
“We can go now,” she said quickly.
“Well, we can’t leave now . This is the interesting part,” Anders said. “Who was it who wrote, ‘In the eyes of an animal, we find a reflection of our souls’?”
She didn’t know. But she did know that it was Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City who said, “Sometimes we need to leave our exes where they belong—in the past.”
Justin took the lead on giving the turtle a cursory examination.
“Good eye,” he called out to her.
“Oh, yeah. Well, thanks for coming to help.”
“It’s my job,” he said, looking at Anders.
“Oh—Justin, this is Anders Fleming.”
“We met at the book reading,” Justin said evenly, glancing up from his crouched position.
“That’s right,” Anders said, a look on his face like he was putting pieces together. “You were there with Kate from Hendrik’s Books.”
Justin nodded. “Thanks again for the call,” he said to Shelby, punctuating the conversation by turning his back to them. He conferred with Doug before they slowly and carefully lifted the stunned animal.
“Let’s go,” she said, touching Anders’s arm. He put his arm around her. They walked back towards their beach blankets. She felt the heat coming off his body, and her own stirrings of attraction. “I think I’ve had enough of the great outdoors for the night,” she said, looking up at him.
He stopped walking and turned to face her. His intelligent gray eyes had just the faintest crow’s-feet in the corners. “I hate to see our evening end so soon.”
She reached for his hand. “Who said anything about ending the evening?”
“I’ve always wondered about this house,” Shelby said when they reached the landmark East End Victorian where he was living for the summer. She’d passed by it many times.
“Fine Arts Work Center arranged it for me. It’s quite lovely,” he said.
The kitchen was small but welcoming, with granite counters, blue-gray backsplash tiles, and a white vertical-board island where he opened a bottle of New Zealand sauvignon blanc and a California pinot noir.
“A friend brought over the red last night so I can’t vouch for it,” he said. “We have the white for backup.”
He handed her a glass of the red. “I’m sure it’s fine,” she said.
“I have to admit, the first time I visited Northern California I expected everyone to be practically guzzling wine,” he said, pouring her a glass.
“But they weren’t?”
“No. Everyone seemed far more interested in cannabis.” He waved his hand dismissively.
“Not a weed enthusiast?” she said.
“Over a sublime cabernet franc? No. And if we must debate that, I need to fortify myself first. Cheers.”
She laughed. “I suspect that’s a debate I’d sorely lose.”
It felt easy to be around Anders. Partly, it was because he was a writer and so they already had a shorthand. But more than that, he seemed so comfortable in his own skin, so sure of himself. Not just sure of himself, but sure of his place in the world. Shelby could tell he wasn’t the type of man to be threatened by an ambitious woman.
“Shall we venture out to the veranda?” he said.
He led the way, carrying the bottles of wine while she took care of their glasses.
It was almost dark out, just a thin ribbon of light on the horizon. The back porch overlooked a small yard bordered by a hedge of white hydrangeas. They sat on a wicker sectional and he moved a bunch of throw pillows out of the way.
“So,” he said, crossing his legs and looking at her intently. “We haven’t talked much about our respective works in progress. Is that by design?”
“Not at all,” she said. Though maybe it was a little, on her end. She wouldn’t trade writing beach books for anything, but she was sure he’d never read one and probably wouldn’t find her novel compelling. “What are you writing?”
He nodded, sipped from his glass, then set it down on a wrought iron side table.
“A challenging project. My editor is pushing me to aim for a younger readership.”
“Really? Why?”
He lit a cigarette. “We must keep with the times or risk becoming mummified, creatively speaking. And financially speaking. The sad truth is that awards don’t necessarily translate to sales.”
“Well, if they don’t, what does?”
He held up his phone and rolled his eyes. “Videos of people dancing around their living rooms talking about books, apparently.” He put the phone down on the table next to his wine. He leaned closer to her. “I apologize. Let’s not be boring, talking shop on a gorgeous summer night.”
A breeze rustled through the tree branches, bringing with it the smell of jasmine from a nearby garden. A small animal rustled in the hedges, and the air felt electric, the way it did before a storm. Maybe being near Anders just made her senses seem heightened.
“No,” she said softly. “Let’s not be boring.”
He took the wineglass from her hands. She felt a flutter in her stomach. Seconds ticked by, or maybe minutes. Time did that funny thing where it seemed to stop or at least, bend.
And then he kissed her.