Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Sullivan showered and shaved before heading over to Keaton and Layne’s house for dinner.
Because of Piper Roberts.
He knew beginning a relationship with someone was the last thing he should do, especially since his time in Driftwood Bay was winding down.
Yet from the moment he caught sight of Piper, something called out to him.
A whisper in his ear that nudged him. It told Sullivan that this was someone worth getting to know.
It had surprised him when he asked to kiss her.
He wasn’t an asking kind of guy. Not that he had ever forced himself on a woman before.
The women of his acquaintance usually gave him very readable signs that they wanted to be kissed.
Even bedded. He simply gave them what they wanted.
He had never been in love. Never even thought about love.
At thirty-three, he was in the prime of his life.
Had a thriving professional career. Made an obscene amount of money for work he was very good at.
Yet during his time in the Bay, he had seen a different kind of life, one which reminded him of Baker’s Cove.
A simpler, satisfying pace reminiscent of his grandparents’ lives.
Pawpaw having been a carpenter. Memaw, employed as a retail clerk at the sporting goods store.
Neither had any formal education beyond high school, yet they had been happy in the work they’d done and in their love for one another.
Sullivan had witnessed love between Keaton and Layne and also Carson and Mia. He enjoyed spending time around these couples and had begun to wonder if it might be time for him to slow down his carefree bachelor life and consider settling down.
“Whoa, buddy,” he said aloud as he gazed in the mirror, combing his fingers through his hair. “Just because you’re taken with Piper doesn’t mean you’ve got to marry her.”
He did want to get to know more about her, though.
She intrigued him. Piper was unlike anyone he had met before.
Maybe because she had lived a nomadic life on the road for so many years.
Even though he traveled frequently for work, he had a home base in New York, a place he considered his anchor.
Yet more and more, he was realizing that his life there wasn’t the one he desired.
He was tired of shallow people and fast talking and being judged by what he wore and who he knew.
Sullivan did not want to become his dad, but he feared he was on his way to that kind of life if he didn’t put on the brakes and make a radical change.
Once again, he thought about how he had been tempted to remain in Driftwood Bay.
Was that even feasible?
“Put it on the back burner, bro,” he told himself, claiming his wallet, car keys, and the bottle of wine he was bringing to dinner before he headed out the door.
He liked that the apartment over the diner had a separate staircase that allowed him to come and go without having to go through the diner. It had afforded him a bit of privacy.
Tonight was going to be enjoyable. Dinner with friends. No pressure. He didn’t need to make any earth-shattering decisions right now. It was all about putting one foot in front of the other and staying the course.
But was the course one he wished to remain on?
Feeling out of sorts, he drove toward the water.
Getting out of his car, he inhaled the salt-scented air, feeling a sense of peace wash over him as he did so.
He used to sit with Memaw on the shore, watching the waves roll in and out.
Sullivan wondered if that might be something Piper might want to do.
He was about to ring the doorbell when the door opened. Keaton stood there. He took the bottle of wine from Sullivan.
“Thanks for bringing this. Could you do me a favor and go get Piper? She doesn’t have a car yet, and we forgot to pick her up. She said she’d walk, but Layne told her to stay put.”
“Sure,” he agreed, glad to be able to spend some time alone with her. “Be back in a few.”
Returning to his car, he drove down the beach road and turned left, heading back toward town.
The Bay Breeze Inn was about two miles away, and he turned onto the gravel road leading up to it.
It looked remarkably different from when he had first seen it.
The work Keaton had put in, coupled with the construction crew Layne had hired, had restored the tired beauty into something regal and charming.
Piper sat on the porch. She rose, quickly going down the steps and approaching his car. Before he could get out, she had opened the door and climbed into the passenger’s seat.
She glanced at him. “Oh, boy.”
He frowned. “Oh, boy? What?”
She smirked. “Just noting how you’re dressed, Prepster.”
“How do you know I went to prep school?”
She waved her hand up and down. “By the way you’re dressed. Casual to you means a starched, button-down shirt, neatly-pressed slacks, and…” She paused, glancing at the floorboard. “Loafers.” She leaned over, hiking up his trouser leg slightly. Chuckling, she added, “No socks. I should’ve known.”
Releasing his pants leg, she leaned back and fastened her seat belt.
Sullivan glanced up and down at her. “I see casually dressed to you means a light sweater, faded jeans, and boots.”
“Yes. Casual. Texas casual. Do you even own a pair of jeans?”
“Of course, I do,” he protested, thinking maybe he did. Then again, maybe not.
“I see that look of doubt in your eyes,” Piper said, her own eyes gleaming with mischief. “Admit it. You don’t own a pair of jeans.”
“They’re back in New York,” he said, trying to keep the irritation from his voice.
He threw the car into reverse and headed back to the water.
“I’m sorry to give you a hard time,” she apologized. “I don’t know you well enough to tease you like that.” She paused. “But you do look preppy in that stereotypical way. So, where did you go to school?”
“A boarding school in Connecticut. Devonwood Academy. And yes, we wore uniforms. White shirts. Khaki slacks. Blazers and ties.”
“Was it fun, living with a bunch of guys? Or was your school coed?”
He laughed. “Heaven forbid my parents send me to a coed school. That would have been…so inappropriate.” The last two words he said in a snooty, aristocratic tone. “In case you were wondering, I was quoting my mother.”
“So, Mom wasn’t a fan of the coed life. I can’t imagine going to an all-girls school. Then again, no one in the Bay went to private school. You grew up and attended public schools here. Knew everyone in your graduating class.”
Curiosity filled him. “What were you like in high school? What were you involved in?”
Piper smiled. “Naturally, I was big in choir and drama. I also danced on the drill team. Was an officer, so I learned how to be bossy in a nice way. I also loved journalism and was the editor of the Pirate Press, our school newspaper. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to pursue journalism or theater when I graduated and left for college. ”
“That was your résumé. What were you like?”
“Pretty much the way I am now,” she said breezily. “Friendly. Outgoing. I worked hard in school. I wasn’t as disciplined as Layne was, but I got pretty decent grades. What about you?” she asked as he turned onto the beach road.
“Reserved. Zane, my best friend, was the outgoing one. I played sports. Enjoyed cross country the most. In fact, I still run today.” He paused and then, letting his guard down, revealed, “Running was my escape.”
She took that in and asked, “Were you a good student?”
He smiled. “I was our valedictorian. Pissed Zane off. He came in second in our class. If he had applied himself more, he would’ve challenged me more for that top spot. He’s remained the outgoing one, and I’m still more likely to sit back and observe others before jumping in.”
Sullivan turned into the driveway and cut the engine. “Don’t touch that handle,” he warned, getting out of the car and coming around to open her door.
“Ooh, a gentleman. I guess that was driven into you at your posh prep school.”
“Nope, that came from the cotillion lessons.” When she looked puzzled, he said, “You don’t want to know. Let’s just say in cotillion, you learn how to foxtrot and which fork to use.”
He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her toward the house, liking the light, floral scent coming from her skin.
They reached the door, and Piper opened it, going right in. Even though he knew this was a common behavior in small towns, he had yet to conquer the feeling that it was something wrong. Maybe he had more of his mother in him than he was willing to admit.
“Hey, we’re here!” Piper called out.
“In the kitchen!” Layne shouted.
Sullivan followed Piper to the kitchen, where Keaton was pulling something out of the oven.
“What’s that?” Piper asked, going over and inhaling deeply. “It smells delicious.”
“Beef Wellington,” Keaton answered. “Tenderloin wrapped in a puff pastry. You’ll ladle red wine sauce over it.”
“Wow, it smells heavenly. I’ve never had it before.”
Hearing that let Sullivan know just how different the worlds that they came from were.
He had grown up eating the fancy entrée, along with other traditional dishes which were commonplace in his parents’ household.
He mentally chastised himself, trying not to be the snob Piper thought he was.
He was used to fine dining in New York, as well as eating at various Wagner Enterprises properties, every meal upscale, with Michelin star chefs leading the kitchens.
“You’ll like it,” Layne said. “Keaton has made this for me before. He’s really spoiling me.”
“Glad I brought the wine I did,” Sullivan commented. “Thanks for letting me know to bring a red.”
Piper glanced around. “We aren’t eating in the kitchen?”
“It’s so mild tonight, I thought we could eat on the deck,” Layne said. “If you get chilly, I can lend you a jacket.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Piper replied. “Let’s carry dinner outside.”
With all four of them pitching in, it only took a single trip to bring everything to the table outside.