Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Holt
“How about this? I’ll call Driftwood Inn while you search for rentals.”
I feel kind of bad. All the blood drained from Maple’s face when I told her I’m living in her grandma’s cabin. Honestly, I was just going along with the teasing nicknames and engagement plot line that she started. As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I realized it can’t be easy learning your grandmother is ill and then finding out you have no place to stay. Based on the way Maple bites her lip to the point of drawing blood, I’m guessing we both know there won’t be any vacancy.
Maple still fumbles for her phone and starts frantically thumbing out words, followed by manic swiping. I click on Driftwood Inn’s number and put the phone to my ear. The woman who answers is pleasant while also speaking quickly when she tells me they’re all booked up. I hang up and watch Maple pace Gracie’s living room.
I haven’t seen Maple in twenty years, but she’s somehow just as hot as the girl I worked up the courage to kiss that night around the bonfire. Her pale blue gauzy skirt is long, covering legs I really wish I could see. I wonder if she’s as pale everywhere as she is on her slender arms. There’s just a hint of a back tattoo coming from beneath her tank top. Her long hair keeps flicking over it, so I haven’t gotten a close enough look to see what the tattoo might be. Maple’s thin, her waist so tiny I wonder if I could close my fingers around it and have them touching. But holy fuck, the gods have blessed her with a pair of boobs that you’d expect to find on someone a little heavier. Not that this has any bearing on anything happening right now, but my brain circles the question on whether they’re real or not.
Maple makes a little whimper, like Mookie when I don’t get food in her bowl fast enough. I squeeze my eyes shut for a minute and focus. I’m resigned to what has to be done here. I’m not a complete jackass.
“Moonbeam?” I finally say in the silence of the grandfather clock ticking away the minutes.
Maple’s head snaps up and her fingers finally freeze on that phone of hers. Her blue eyes are wide and panicked. It’s the panic that squeezes my ribs and confirms I don’t have any other choice.
I walk closer and put my hand on top of the phone gripped in her hands. “It’s Memorial Day weekend. Everywhere has been booked for months already.”
Maple shakes her head defiantly. “Maybe someone cancelled last minute!”
I shake my head and take her phone from her hands, pressing the side button to turn the screen off.
“You know as well as I do that they have a long cancellation list too. Anchor Lake is a premier destination for everyone up and down the coast.” I press my luck and hand her back her phone. “You can come home with me for the weekend. It’ll give you a chance to search for a place for the rest of the summer.”
Maple goes back to biting on that lip and it takes everything in me not to reach up and pull it away from her teeth before she hurts herself again. “I suppose the guest room for a few days wouldn’t be so bad,” she murmurs.
I wince. “Uh, yeah, I turned the guest room into a weight room.”
Maple’s gaze flicks over my body and suddenly it’s too damn hot in this condo. “You don’t say.”
Her sarcasm makes me smile. “I do have a couch though. Very comfortable and right in front of the fireplace.”
“Oh goodie. A hot fire during summer.”
I don’t remember Maple being this funny twenty years ago, but then again, I didn’t give her much time to say anything humorous when I just kissed her and walked away.
“You can spend the rest of the day visiting with Gracie and I’ll take you home when my shift is over. Sound good?”
Maple dips her head in agreement, the movement making her breasts sway under that cotton tank top. I refuse to look down. My eyeball tendons strain mightily, but I’m able to overpower them with sheer willpower alone.
“Great. Meet you back here at five.”
Before anything else can sway tantalizingly, I give her arm a squeeze and head out of the condo to see some patients. The day is busy and I pour my heart and soul into these elderly patients, making sure they do their exercises and are as healthy as can be. Megan doesn’t get another chance to flirt with me, and Debbie has to hand me glasses three more times before it’s time to leave. I’d call that a good day.
At five on the dot, I knock on Gracie’s door. This time, Maple answers, a grim smile set on her face.
“Grandma’s taking another nap. I told her I’d be back in the morning though, so we should be good to go.”
I nod, stepping inside to grab Maple’s suitcase where it’s stored by the hooks that currently hold jackets and sweaters. Her hand closes over the handle first and she jumps when my hand lands on top of hers.
“I got it,” I grumble.
She snatches her hand away and sweeps out of the condo. I follow, making sure to lock up after me, entering my code so security knows when I exited the condo. All staff here has their own codes, a way for us to keep tabs on the comings and goings of our employees. Our residents’ safety is top priority, one of the many ways Sunny Shores is far superior to the Last Dock Retirement Home on the north side of Anchor Lake.
I point toward my dusty black Jeep, stowing the suitcase in the back and making sure Maple climbs inside the passenger seat okay on her own. She tucks her long skirt in and I shut the door for her. Back on the driver’s side, I start the car and attempt conversation. I talk to people all day long in my job. I should be able to chat with Maple, right?
“Did you have a nice visit with Gracie today?”
Maple whimpers so quietly I’m not sure I heard it. My knuckles are white as I grip the steering wheel.
“She was mostly confused. It was like Groundhog Day each time she said she was delighted to see me.”
Fuck. I should have said something else.
“You know, Gracie talks about you all the time. Though she’s always called you her ‘darling granddaughter’ and never by name.”
Maple’s quiet, looking out the passenger window. I can only see the back of her head, so I keep my gaze trained on the road. I rack my brain for open-ended questions and come up with stupid ones like, what do you think of the weather today? Or what made you get a tattoo that spans the width of your shoulders? Neither seems like a good option for what’s basically a stranger, despite the fact we just pretended to be engaged.
“Did Doctor Ahmed come by?”
Maple turns toward me, and I sneak a glance at her. Shit. Her eyes are glossy. She nods.
“Yeah. He got me up to speed and we’re going to get Grandma seen by a specialist.” Maple starts biting her lip, and I make my eyes stay on the road as we turn onto the street that meanders back to the cabin. “He, uh, suggested I go along with whatever she says right now. Considering some of this confusion might just be the concussion and it will clear on its own as she heals.”
I’m nodding, pulling up the driveway. Maple gasps, her hands on the glass as she presses her nose to see out the window. “Every time I see this cabin it’s like a time portal. I’m taken back to those summers as a kid.”
I put the Jeep in park in the carport and shut the engine off. My brain immediately goes to our awkward kiss, but considering she’s about to stay in my cabin for the weekend, I don’t bring it up. Some things might be better left in the past. I get out and grab her suitcase from the back. Maple is already out of the Jeep and meandering around the front yard, fingertips brushing flower petals, crouching down to see the little gnome hidden in the bushes to the left of the door, and gasping at the metal contraption that’s staked into the ground and spins when the wind hits it.
She finally comes to the front door where I’m standing there watching her. There’s something peaceful about the way she moves. Like she sways more than walks, if that makes any sense. Her bright eyes peer up at me from the step below, pretty lips split in a grin now that she’s here.
“Just like I remembered.”
I stare into her eyes, feeling that familiar frantic flutter below my breastbone. I’d felt the same way approaching her at that bonfire. Working up the nerve to ask her if she’d kiss me. I nod slowly, agreeing for different reasons.
When her head tilts to the side and her smile turns into confusion, I scramble for the doorknob and let us inside, releasing her suitcase and intercepting the seven-pound ball of fury that races across the open floor plan. Mookie’s nails click feverishly against the wood floor, only stopping when I pluck her up in my arms.
“Whoa there, Mookie,” I coo. Mookie snarls and snaps at me like she’s gone feral in the hours I’ve been away.
Maple giggles and holds out her hands as if she has a death wish. “Oh, aren’t you adorably fierce!”
Mookie takes one look at Maple and transforms into an angel of a Yorkie, all flapping tongue and wide eyes and whimpers. Maple takes her from my arms and Mookie instantly wiggles around to her back, begging for rubs.
I place my hands on my hips and frown. “She nipped me for months before she let me rub her belly.”
Maple looks up from the bundled fur baby in her arms. “Don’t feel bad. I have a way with animals. Always have. Though it’s kind of funny you have a tiny dog. I would have pinned you for a pit bull or something.”
I’m not sure if I like that assessment or not. Maple seems unconcerned that she’s just insulted me and goes back to rubbing Mookie’s belly. I stare at them, Maple’s lips moving, voice so low and smooth I can’t understand what she’s saying. Mookie’s lapping it up, staring up into her eyes like Maple hung the moon and stars. I shake my head and spin away, going into the primary bedroom for a stack of blankets, dumping them on the couch that could possibly be described as a loveseat and not a full-sized couch.
“I’d offer to sleep here, but I don’t exactly fit.” I scratch the top of my head, feeling like a heel for not offering her my bed, even though it’s not my fault she has nowhere to stay. I pay rent, for crap’s sake. Then again, my mother would kill me if she found out I didn’t offer the bed to a woman. “You know, maybe I can make up a pile of blankets on the floor and you can take the bedroom.”
“No, no. It’s okay.” Maple walks over, Mookie still tucked in her arms like she has no intention of ever using her four legs again. “I don’t sleep in beds.”
I blink, certain I heard her wrong. “Ah. You sleep in the crook of a tree limb like Tarzan.”
Maple huffs.
I snap my fingers. “You’re a vampire who likes a cozy coffin.”
Maple’s growing smile is making me feel taller than my six-foot-two height. “Try again.”
My bottom lip rolls outward in an exaggerated expression of sympathy. “You poor thing. You snore like a rhinoceros, so you have to sleep upright in a chair.”
Maple finally laughs, the sound happy and throaty and something I want to sink into like a hot tub on a snowy night. “No! I just…prefer blankets and the floor.”
I lean in and study her. She doesn’t drop my gaze. “You prefer the floor?” In every way, Maple is unlike any other woman I’ve ever met.
She lifts her hand away from Mookie’s belly and holds four fingers in the air, thumb tucked against her palm. “Scout’s honor.”
I can’t help the grin as I reach up and fold down her pinkie. “If you’re trying to be convincing, you should get the sign right.”
Maple drops her hand and shrugs, turning away from me. “I was never a Scout. You’re onto me, Holt…wait.” She spins back around. “I can’t believe I’ve forgotten. What’s your last name?”
“Holt McGrath, at your service.” I hold my hand up to my forehead, saluting.
“Were you in the military?” she asks.
I drop my hand and shoot her a flirty smile I should leave tucked away. Her staying here, alone with me, will be awkward enough without me flirting with her. “Nope.”
She rolls her pretty eyes and goes back to talking to Mookie, probably telling her what a little shit I am. Mookie already knows.
“Well, how about I get started making some dinner?”
Maple’s head comes up. “I’ll help.”
We move into the kitchen area. Maple tries to put Mookie on the ground, but the little devil sits on Maple’s foot, blocking her from moving. Maple lets out another chuckle, and for once, I’m grateful for the little mutt.
“Looks like you’re on wine duty. Care for white or red?” I open the cabinet that holds both, along with a few bottles of hard alcohol I rarely dip into.
“Um, red, please.” Maple scoops up Mookie and has a seat at the small bar area that separates the kitchen from the dining room and living room.
I pour the wine and set a glass in front of her, sipping my own glass of merlot. With Mookie capturing her attention, I get busy bringing a pot of water to boil and dumping in a box of noodles. Ground beef goes in the pan and I turn on the burner to brown it. Spaghetti’s not the healthiest of dinners, but it’s the one meal I can reliably make without messing up. I’ll just have to use the extra carbohydrates to fuel a weight workout once dinner’s over.
“So, Holt McGrath. Tell me your life’s story,” Maple says, bringing the wineglass to her lips for a sip.
I keep an eye on the stovetop while I give her the condensed version. “Um, well. Born and raised here in Anchor Lake. I left for awhile for college and then building my business. Moved back here two years ago when my sister had a baby. How about you?”
“Hmm. Born and raised in Charlotte. Came here for my summers until I was thirteen when Dad made me go to science camps instead. I work with animals and live in Charlotte. I used to teach yoga and still take a bunch of classes.”
I smile at the mention of exercise. “Yoga’s extremely good for the body. I don’t personally take yoga, but I hear great things.”
I turn the burner off under the noodles and dump the pot into the strainer in the sink. Back in the pot, I dump in the meat. I quickly realize my mistake when nothing’s bright red.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. I forgot the spaghetti sauce. I should have known cooking while distracted would only exacerbate my normal chaos. Such is the life of someone living with ADHD. My mind is always in a million places and never on the one thing it should be on.
“What’s wrong?” Maple says from behind me.
I twist to see she has Mookie tucked under one arm like a football. The little mutt is practically smiling as she stares at me. Traitor.
My hand rubs the back of my neck. “I forgot the sauce.” I move to the cupboard I use as a pantry and open it to see I’m out of spaghetti sauce. “Anndd…I’m out of sauce.”
Maple puts Mookie down, who whines like the affection whore she’s suddenly become in this woman’s presence. Maple lightly shoulders me out of the way and rummages through the cupboard, spinning back around with a can of stewed tomatoes and tomato paste in each hand.
“We can use these! Do you have a blender and some spices?”
I stare at her for a bit, waiting for the irritation at my fuckup to show in her demeanor. When it doesn’t, I grab my blender and help her open the cans. It takes an extra fifteen minutes, but we cobble together a sauce that tastes pretty damn good and pour it over the noodles and meat. As we finally have a seat at the bar and tuck into our meal, I can’t help but feel appreciation for the fact that Maple didn’t get irritated by my mistake.
I look up, right as Maple’s tongue darts out of her mouth to lick sauce off her puffy bottom lip. Her eyes lift and our gazes lock. I shouldn’t talk about the elephant in the room, but there are some things fourteen-year-old me needs to know.
“So…about that kiss when we were kids.”