Chapter Nine #2
“Where?” Gigi’s voice now crackled with static, the interference grating against Caroline’s already frayed nerves.
“Bait shop,” she repeated, louder, despite the pressure building in her head.
“I can’t hear you,” came the distorted reply before the call abruptly ended. Caroline looked at her screen, her heart sinking as she realized the signal had dropped. With a resigned sigh, she understood she had no choice but to bide her time until someone found her.
She rested against the counter, wedged between a heap of paint-splattered drop cloths and something resembling a minnow trap.
She wouldn’t cry. She wouldn’t.
Pulling her tea from the diner bag, she gave the bottle a few shakes and twisted the top.
She took a long swallow and glanced around the room while she drank.
It was dark, but she could make out shadows and shapes.
There was so much to do, because there were only ten days until Memorial Day and the summer kickoff.
Hoisting herself onto the cool, smooth surface of the checkout counter, she attempted to scroll through her phone to check the weather. Her brow furrowed in mild frustration as she realized it was futile without a signal. The screen remained stubbornly blank, mocking her efforts.
Undeterred, she tried calling Gigi once more, only to be met with the cold, mechanical voice of an automated message informing her the call couldn’t connect. With a resigned sigh, she powered off the device, the screen momentarily flashing before going dark, and set it down gently beside her.
Another loud crash of thunder rattled the walls. Caroline yelped, clinging to the edge of the counter.
“Fantastic!” she muttered to no one, hoping the roof didn’t cave in before the weather let up.
Rain pounded against the windows, drowning out all sane thoughts. She squeezed her eyes shut, clutching the drink to her chest. It was just a storm, and she was no longer a kid hiding in her parents’ bedroom.
“You’re too tense, Caroline,” she mocked herself, channeling Gigi’s relentless pep. “You need more waffles and fewer worry lines.”
With each burst, the room grew darker, and the ceiling pounded above her.
Well, this would certainly fix her worry lines.
Opening her eyes, she looked outside. The rain was a sheet of gray fuzz, unyielding and thick, making the pier completely disappear.
As the storm clattered against the walls, rattled the windows, a steady hiss vibrated through the air, as if the storm were staging a full-on assault.
Caroline felt a drip of water hit her on the head and looked up.
As if I didn’t have enough on my list, she thought.
The rain was leaking through the roof. She gnawed at the edge of her lip and looked back toward the corner of the building where a small storage room with a large open door lay waiting.
She considered making a mad dash towards it, wondering if hunkering down in the tiny interior space would spare her if the rest of the building blew away, when she heard the dull roar of an engine.
Vroom. Vroom. Vroooom.
Then it disappeared.
Racing to the door, she could see headlights approaching the end of the road, but they turned down the alleyway and disappeared.
“Hey!” Caroline banged on the door, but no one could hear her over the storm. She tried to shake the door loose again, but it wouldn’t budge.
Turning abruptly, she collapsed onto the floor, burying her face in her hands as a primal scream tore from her throat. Her shoulders shook with the force of it, and she felt the beginnings of hot tears welling up, spilling over her cheeks.
She wiped at them hastily with the back of her hands, smearing them across her skin. Suddenly, a chill shot up her spine as the back of her shirt grew icy cold, drenched by a sudden surge of water which had seeped through the weatherstripping around the door, cascading down to meet her.
Scrambling to her feet, she raced back to the counter, ready to give up on the whole summer event.
As soon as she was done, she’d call her father and tell them she was resigning as mayor.
Then she’d tell Gigi and Mabel they’d have to put together a proper election without her on the ballot.
Boomer could announce it between tuba sets.
Wouldn’t that be something for the bingo card?
The shop was suddenly awash in a cascade of bright lights, illuminating every corner with an almost blinding brilliance. Caroline lifted her hand to fend off the glare. She heard the sharp, resonant slam of a truck door cutting through the rain like another thunderclap.
She held her breath as rapid footsteps splashed across the pavement. A shadow appeared by the door, and an impatient hand rattled the doorknob, accompanied by a pounding on the door.
“Caroline? Are you in there?”
She blinked, not trusting her ears.
“Caroline!”
Pushing off the counter, she tripped over herself in disbelief. She pulled, he pushed, and with another yank on the door, it flew open. There he was, soaking wet and looking every bit like the answer to her prayers.
“Beck!” she practically shrieked, unable to hide the overwhelming relief in her voice.
“You really have bad luck, don’t you, Hollis?”
A gust of air slammed the door behind him, shutting out the storm. “How did you find me? When did you get back home?”
“Just arrived,” he said, shaking the water from his hair.
In a few strides, he was at her side. “I thought you’d be at The Holler & Fork, hunkered down with Sandy and the Friday night bingo game.
” She stared at him for a beat too long, struggling to grasp he was there.
“Are you coming? The storm is going to get worse,” he asked. “Don’t make me carry you.”
“You came back!” she said, the words barreling out in a mix of accusation and surprise. “You came back for me.”
“Of course, I came back.” His eyes softened. “You think I’d leave you to weather this on your own?”
“I didn’t know.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
He closed the distance between them, his presence already chasing away the shadows.
“Well, now you do.” He reached out a hand, dripping with rain and other promises. “Grab your things.”
She nodded, grabbing her tote. Shoving the phone, food, and every hope she had for the summer into the bag, she swung it over her shoulder and grabbed Beck’s hand with both of hers. “Let’s get out of here.”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he teased. As they reached the exit, Beck pulled on the handle. It didn’t budge.
The door was stuck.
Again.
He gave it another quick yank.
She felt him tense, knuckles going white on the metal.
“It has to open,” she said, her voice a frantic blur. “Beck—”
“Hang on.” He gave her a look. A challenge mingled with determination. “We’ll get it.”
“I’m going to die in a bait shop.”
“You will not die, Hollis.” Tugging harder on the door, it still wouldn’t budge. “I think we’re stuck here, though. Why did you even come down here?”
“What?” she snapped, suspicious. “You think I planned this, Beckett?”
“No.” He shook his head, ran a hand through the rebellious mess of his hair. “But the rest of the town might.”
“This is going to end up on the card, isn’t it?” she said, her voice halfway to despair and back again. “It will say, ‘No Escape.’”
“Hey, stop it. I’m sure they’ll realize we’re missing and come find us as soon as the storm lets up.” He glanced around the bait shop. “You know how to pick a romantic backdrop for a reunion, Hollis.”
“This wasn’t planned, all right? I was checking on the construction.”
“It didn’t occur to you to ask yourself why this entire section of town was empty?” Caroline replied with a sniff. “You’re not crying, are you?”
“Of course not. My mascara isn’t waterproof.”
“Always deflecting, Caroline. Why don’t you say what you truly think for once?”
She placed her two bags on the ground. “Are you going to kiss me, Beck?”
“Yes, I am,” he replied. “Once you’re done worrying about what everyone else thinks.” He slipped an arm around her, drawing her close, and she melted against him with a sigh of both exasperation and contentment.
“I missed you,” she admitted, pushing his hair back from his face.
“Did you?” Beck murmured, his voice warm, telling her everything she needed to hear.
“Maybe,” she said, her voice both playful and vulnerable. “Okay, fine. Yes. I did.”
“Good.” He brushed his lips against her ear. “I missed you too.”
Gently cradling her chin in his hand, he pulled her closer and captured her lips in a deep, lingering kiss.
The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down her spine, and the world around them seemed to fade away.
Her breath caught in her throat, leaving her utterly breathless as their lips moved in perfect harmony.
When he finally lifted his head, he noticed her shivering. “You’re cold.”
“So are you. Must be because we are both soaking wet.”
“I’ll see if I can find something warm.” His voice tinged with concern as his stomach let out a low growl, echoing his hunger.
“Did you eat yet?”
“No. I wanted to get straight home to you.”
“I have Swedish meatballs and gravy. There’s also a piece of banana cream pie,” she added with a teasing glint in her eyes.
“You’d share your banana cream pie? That’s better than lemon bars.”
“Hey,” she laughed playfully, swatting his arm. “I wouldn’t share a slice of pie with anyone. Only someone I love.”
Beck looked stunned as the words slipped out, hanging in the air like a tender confession. He cleared his throat and released her. “I’ll go see if there are any sweatshirts in the back.”
As she watched him walk away, Caroline closed her eyes and shook her head. She just guaranteed herself a broken heart.