Summer at the Shore (Seashell Bay Book 2) (14 page)

“Thanks, I’m fine. I really do just need a bit of air.”
And a few moments to get my head back on straight
.

She hurried out through the foyer and down the rear steps of the hall onto the path that connected the church and the cemetery. The air outside was still warm and some humidity had set in, so there wasn’t much relief. She raked both hands back though her hair, getting it off her face and behind her ears as best she could. She felt flushed, and a little sweat had already dampened her once-crisp, pink cotton blouse.

Even worse, she felt furious with herself for wanting Ryan as much as she did. A big part of her longed to head straight for her truck and take off back to the safety of her bedroom at the inn.

But she wasn’t that much of a coward. She wouldn’t run away from either Sabrina or her friends, no matter how uncomfortable she might feel under Soldier Boy’s penetrating gaze.

Ryan quickly drained his beer and excused himself, claiming he needed a restroom break. He didn’t want the others at the table to think he was chasing after Morgan, though that was exactly what he was doing.

He’d fought the temptation to show up at the social tonight. He’d gone back to the inn after the parade was over and done some more work because he thought it might distract him. But it hadn’t. Morgan had never left his thoughts for more than a moment. He’d then headed to the Pot for dinner before going back to Golden Sunset after Morgan and Sabrina left. An evening holed up in his room with a book had seemed a safer option than having to face the lure of being with Morgan in a setting all too reminiscent of last summer’s encounter between them at the VFW.

That plan had gone up in smoke when his mother called from the church hall and asked sarcastically if he was sick. She wouldn’t have believed a lie anyway, so Ryan told her the truth about not wanting Morgan to feel uncomfortable. He knew he didn’t have to elaborate since his mom and apparently everybody else on the island knew that he and Morgan were having trouble sorting out exactly how they felt about each other.

Mom, of course, had laid on guilt about how he was giving islanders a slap in the face by not showing up when it was the only time in recent memory that he’d been on the island for July Fourth. She’d then told him Morgan had been looking all evening like her dog just died, and he’d darn well better come down and try to cheer her up.

After ten minutes of straight-on mom lecturing, he’d given in, deciding to show up for a while and see what happened. And maybe it was time that he and Morgan finally got things out on the table, because it was pointless and frustrating for them to pussyfoot around each other for the rest of the summer.

Ryan slipped out the side door of the hall. About thirty feet away, Morgan stared up at the starlit sky above the stand of pines bordering the historic little cemetery. His adrenaline went immediately into overdrive at the sight of her. She looked sweet enough to eat in a sleeveless pink blouse and slim-fitting black capris.

Her body language sucked though, with her shoulders hunched and her arms wrapped around herself.

There was a low, steady hum from inside the church, but otherwise the warm summer night was silent except for the sound of crickets and the breeze sighing through the tall pines. That quiet was one of the things Ryan had always loved best about coming home to Seashell Bay.

War zones were rarely quiet.

“Communing with our sainted ancestors?” Ryan said in a soft voice as he walked over the grass toward her. Actually, she was pretty near her parents’ graves, so communing probably wasn’t far off the mark.

Morgan pivoted, and her lips opened in a little gasp. “What are you doing out here?”

Ryan quickly closed the gap between them. “I was worried about you.”

She stared for a moment before giving him a tight smile. “No need. I was just getting a little overheated in there.”

“I suppose my arrival didn’t help matters, did it?” There was obviously more to her down mood than she was letting on.

She gave a casual shrug but looked about as uncomfortable as he’d ever seen her. Frustration rippled through him.

“Talk to me, Morgan. What can I do to make things right with you?”

She turned half away from him, her shoulders practically crawling up around her ears. He had to repress the instinct to pull her into his arms. He so wanted to make things better for her, but he was afraid he didn’t know how.

“I’m sorry, Ryan,” she said in a flat voice. “It’s not really you. Well, it is, but that’s not the big thing right now.”

“Okay, then tell me what is.”

“Remember the Longstreet wedding I told you about? The one that had booked all our rooms for a week?”

“Sure. You said I’d have to move out by then because you’d be full up.”

“Well, no worries about that anymore. They called off the wedding. Cancelled the whole damn booking.”

Shit.
Again, he had to fight the instinct to yank her into his arms. “I’m really sorry, Morgan. I know what that booking meant to you.”

“The difference between life and death?” Then she flapped a hand. “Cripes, that was stupidly dramatic, especially since you’ve actually lived through that sort of situation.”

Ryan didn’t know if she was being too dramatic or not, and he wasn’t about to guess. “Hey, no worries, babe.”

Morgan sighed and rubbed her forehead. “I’m racking my brains to come up with something, but our hole is getting so deep I’m not sure we’ll be able to climb out. I really don’t want to believe that this cancellation is fate’s way of telling me it’s time to face facts and walk away.”

“Well, I don’t believe in fate. Not that kind of fate anyway. If anybody can get the inn back on its feet, it’s you. You’ll find a way.”

She flashed him a look halfway between a smile and
a grimace. “Okay, then maybe
you
can give Sabrina the bad news, Soldier Boy. She already thinks I’m a complete failure.”

His heart twisted at her attempt to make light of the situation. Morgan had more guts than some of the guys he’d fought with, and he hated to see her up against the wall. “You’re no kind of failure at all. As for Sabrina, the girl idolizes you. She always has.”

Morgan made a soft scoffing noise.

“Hey, none of that crap, Merrifield,” he said. “It’s obvious to everyone how Sabrina feels about you. But you can’t spend your whole life trying to insulate her from every bad thing that could possibly happen. She’ll never be able to handle anything if you keep coddling her.”

She plopped her hands on her hips. “Excuse me?”

“Okay, maybe that was out of line. But I was just trying to say that you shouldn’t forget you’ve got your own life to live too. Stop being Sabrina’s doormat.”

The last person on Earth who should feel guilty about anything was Morgan, and he wanted her to hear that loud and clear.

“Ryan, would you do me a big favor and make sure Sabrina gets home in one piece?” Morgan finally said after a few tense moments of silence. “I think I need to get out of here.”

He took her by the arm and gently reeled her in. “Not yet, honey, because I’ve got a thought about how we might attack the problem.”

She resisted a bit but came reluctantly back. Then she let out a short laugh. “Okay, I guess a cemetery is the right place to hold this discussion anyway, given the state of my finances.”

“Good, but just so you know, it would have to involve spending—no, investing—more money,” he said.

“Oh, wow. I guess I could always fetch my old piggy bank from Pickle River,” she said sarcastically.

“Very funny. Can I just lay out my idea?”

“Actually, I do have a few ideas of my own, but you go first.”

“We run full out with an advertising blitz,” he said, throwing it at her in one go. “As all out as we can afford, because we’ve got to reach more people. We’ve got to get to folks who’ve never heard of the B&B or the island or even Casco Bay. And we offer them discounts for last-minute bookings right through to the end of the summer.”

Morgan slowly nodded. “Right, but that kind of advertising would be mad expensive. We need to find a way around that.”

“Maybe we could concentrate on travel web sites, plus ads in a few selected newspapers.”

“Nope. Still too expensive.”

Screw that. He refused to let her lack of cash stand in their way. “Why don’t you let me pick up the cost? I can afford it. What I can’t afford is to let the inn go down, taking you and your sister with it.”

More head shaking, now emphatic. “You know I can’t let you do that.”

“Sure you can. Because what’s the alternative?”

She narrowed her eyes, and Ryan had the notion that she was doing a series of quick mental calculations rather than actually looking at him.

“All right, I agree, except for the part about you paying the costs,” she finally said. “We definitely should advertise last-minute bookings, though not spend a lot of money
on ads. But I’m thinking for that to work, the discounts would have to be huge. Forty percent, maybe even fifty. We need to go big, or go home.”

“Now you’re talking, babe. I’m happy to go big, as you well know.”

“Seriously lame, Butler,” she said, shaking her head.

He just grinned and carried on. “A full house at even half the normal rate is a hell of a lot better than empty rooms producing zero cash. Since you and Sabrina do all the work yourselves, your overhead is almost as much when the place is empty as when it’s full. Most of what you’d take in through the discounted rates would go straight to the bottom line.”

Morgan perked up, starting to look genuinely enthusiastic about the plan. “We should focus hard on the online options. A lot of sites don’t charge that much for ads, and some are even free. Maybe that will leave me with some money to do one or two print ads.”

“Great, but what about the cost?”

“I’ll handle it somehow,” she said. “The piggy bank might have enough left in it since we’re talking pretty small potatoes, especially with the websites. I’ve already done a little research on them.”

Okay, he’d let her play it like that—for now.

“Let’s do it, then.” He was surprised to feel his energy surging, excited that he was able to help her find a way out.

She wagged a playful finger at him. “Now, don’t get too cocky. We can’t keep up that kind of discounting for long—not with the mortgage and all our other fixed costs.”

“No,” he acknowledged, “but you might not even make it through the summer otherwise. Let’s try it and see where things stand when Labor Day rolls around.”

Morgan slapped a hand to her chest and widened her eyes. “Am I hearing you right, Ryan Butler? Because that sounded to me like you’re going to be in this thing with Sabrina and me until at least Labor Day.”

She looked so damn cute that he wanted to sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless. But instinct told him that making a move on her now would be stupid. Ryan had spent the past couple of days thinking Morgan was ready to kick him out of Golden Sunset. At times, that prospect had even looked good. But he couldn’t walk away from either the B&B or Morgan yet. And sure as hell not when she was making it clear that she wanted him to stay.

“You’re hearing me exactly right,” he said.

The smile that lit up her face made his heart go wonky. “Okay, let’s do this thing. Let’s chop the hell out of our rates and see what happens.”

“Seal the deal with a hug?” Ryan said with a grin.

She rolled her eyes. “You are so bad, but why not?”

He enfolded her in his arms, enjoying the warm softness of her body against his for a couple of moments before forcing himself to let her go.

“We’d better go back inside before they send out a search party,” he said. He could hear the gravel in his voice. “And I promise not to ask you to dance if you sing at least one karaoke number for me.”

Morgan swiped a hand across her brow in mock relief, but her sweet smile told him he’d said exactly the right thing.

M
organ felt like skipping from her office to the kitchen. “Chalk up another booking!”

“Yes!” Sabrina, up to her elbows in flour, dropped her wooden roller and pumped her fist. “For how long?”

“Two rooms for a full week in late August. Two couples are coming in by boat to explore the islands. They’ll use Golden Sunset as their base.”

“At 50 percent discount?” Sabrina asked, going back to rolling out dough.

“Forty, because this one’s not last minute. Like Ryan said, it sure beats having empty rooms.”

The day after her ads went up on a slew of social media and advertising websites, bookings had started to roll in and had continued at a decent pace for the past three weeks. For the Blueberry Festival, the inn was now booked solid, and every day in August had at least four rooms reserved already. People were hungry for cheap vacation deals.

The inn’s projected bottom line now even looked better than before the horrifying wedding cancellation. Morgan
had to wonder why she’d never thought of discounting rooms before and could only chalk it up to a bad combo of grief, false hope, and tunnel vision.

Then again, she was a teacher, not an innkeeper or marketing expert.

Though Ryan’s room wasn’t producing revenue, his work around the B&B was worth more than any rate she might have charged. And despite the ongoing temptation of having him close by, it was wonderful to have him around. He made her feel, well, grounded for lack of a better term, and Sabrina had told her that Ryan made her feel safe.

Unfortunately, that was going to change sooner than she’d hoped.

“Ryan’s still sticking around at least through Labor Day, isn’t he?” Sabrina asked.

Morgan poured a cup of coffee and stirred in some cream. “Yes, but he’ll be moving out of here soon.”

His mother had just let him know that a friend of hers was spending the month of August on the West Coast and that Ryan was welcome to use her house. Morgan could hardly blame him for wanting a place where he’d have more space and privacy.

Sabrina grimaced. “Can’t you get him to change his mind? I’m getting used to having him around. Who knew such a hotshot could cook so well?”

The way Sabrina had finally warmed up to Ryan had been a revelation. She never made it easy for anyone—least of all men—to get close to her. But Ryan had managed to slowly breach her defenses. He’d made a point of working with her in the kitchen almost every day, most often deferring to her skills and saying he was eager to learn from her. The true turning point might have been
the July Fourth social, when he’d danced with Sabrina more than anyone else. While most island men steered clear of Morgan’s prickly sister, Ryan had made her feel like the belle of the ball.

Watching his kindness to her baby sister, Morgan had fallen for him even harder than before.

“Maybe
you
should tell him you want him to stay,” she said to Sabrina, leaning her elbows onto the island counter, “since you two are getting so tight. I’ve already made it clear that he’s more than welcome to keep his room as long as he wants.”

Sabrina nodded, looking determined. “I will, then. He makes me feel like . . .” She stopped, searching for words.

“Like what?” Morgan prompted gently.

“Well, I guess he makes me feel like everything might turn out all right here after all.”

Morgan’s throat went a little tight. “I know what you mean, sweetie.”

He’d done so much for them, not only reroofing the entire house but also with a dozen other repairs to the house and annex. Even though she kept asking him to give her the bills for the materials, Morgan strongly suspected he was tossing them in the trash.

That, of course, made her feel loads of guilt, exacerbated by the lack of time he spent kayaking. He squeezed in short trips on most days, but it was clearly not what he’d expected. The guy had come home to relax and explore the islands, not bust his ass fixing the never-ending stream of little problems that kept cropping up at Golden Sunset.

So she’d been pleased today when Ryan told her he intended to paddle all the way to Bailey Island and back. He’d be bone-tired by the time he finished such a long trip,
so she and Sabrina had decided to surprise him with his favorite dish, spaghetti and meatballs.

When Morgan’s cell phone rang, she glanced down at the call display.
Holly’s home number.
Surprised that her friend wasn’t at her Boston marketing firm at this hour on a workday, she snatched up the phone. “What’s wrong?”

Holly’s gentle laugh reassured her. “Calm down, sweetie. Boy, I thought I was the one needing a tranquilizer.”

Morgan slumped against the counter. Man, her nerves
were
totally strung. “Seriously, are you all right? You never call from home at this hour. Hell, you’re hardly ever at home, what with that crazy-ass job of yours.”

Holly breathed a little sigh. “I’m okay. Well, sort of anyway.”

“Tell me.”

“Well, I was out for a run along the Charles yesterday when my left foot went out from under me. I can’t even describe the pain, Morgan. It felt like something inside there was ripping in half.”

“Oh crap,” Morgan groaned.

“To make a long story short, an MRI showed I’d ruptured my
peroneus brevis
tendon. It’s the one that allows you to flex your foot. Not a smart thing to snap, huh?”

“I’m so sorry. They can fix that surgically, can’t they?” Morgan recalled that Roy Mayo had undergone an operation for a ruptured tendon in his foot a few years back. He’d suffered through a miserable convalescence but was as good as new now.

“Yes, it’s a relatively simple procedure. You’re supposedly in and out of the hospital in a few hours. I go under the knife the day after tomorrow.”

“Wow, that’s pretty fast.”

“I’m very lucky that the orthopedic surgeon was able to schedule it so quickly.”

Though her good friend sounded remarkably calm, Morgan couldn’t help wondering how Holly would manage on her own during a long recuperation. It made Morgan wish she had the whole summer off as she had in the past. She’d have moved in with Holly until her friend was healed and fully mobile.

“You’ll need someone to help you out for a few days,” she said, her mind jumping ahead to the practicalities. “I’ll drive down tomorrow.” Sabrina could handle the inn for a little while, especially since Ryan would be around to share the load.

“No, no. Thank you, darling, we’ve got it covered. Aunt Florence is coming tomorrow night, and the next day she’ll drive me up to Seashell Bay to convalesce. The surgeon tells me I absolutely have to keep my weight off my foot for four weeks, so I’ll be with you guys for most of the summer. That’s at least one good thing to come out of this stupid accident.”

Ordinarily, Morgan would have been over the moon to have her lifelong friend come home for that length of time. But she simply couldn’t imagine how Holly’s elderly aunts, who’d raised her after their niece had been orphaned, would manage the amount of assistance Holly would need. “Are you sure Florence and Beatrice are going to be physically up to that? Aren’t you going to need more, uh, robust help?”

Holly hesitated for a moment. “I do worry about that a little, especially for the first week or two while I’m getting used to crutches.” She gave a mirthless little laugh. “I was wondering how I’d manage the stairs up to my bedroom,
but Aunt Florence said they’d get somebody to clear out the dining room and set up a bed for me down there.”

She’d be sleeping in the dining room? That was a crappy solution. “Look, Holly, you should let me help you instead. I’ll take you to and from the hospital, and then we’ll drive up to Portland when you’re ready. You can have my room at the B&B, and I’ll take one of the guest rooms upstairs. Remember, we’ve got a wheelchair ramp too.”

When Holly started to protest, Morgan talked right over her. “You’ll be in a wheelchair sometimes, right? Because crutches are awkward and exhausting. And by the way, I’m not taking no for an answer, so get that out of your stubborn head right now.”

“Oh, all right,” Holly said with a sigh. “You’re truly the best, Morgan, but please don’t think the reason I called was to ask you to do this.”

“Of course not. It’ll just make it easier on everybody, especially your dear aunts.”

“Everybody except you,” Holly said. “You don’t exactly need another burden. Not with what you’ve already got on your plate.”

“Holly Tyler, I’m more likely to sprout a pair of wings and fly across the Atlantic than I am to ever think of you as a burden,” Morgan said firmly.

“What if you need that guest room? And I
will
pay you, by the way.”

While the inn was indeed fully booked for one week—around the Blueberry Festival—Ryan would be gone by then. “No, you won’t, and it’s not a problem. I’ll even try to add a few touches to my bedroom to make it as girlie as yours,” she said.

Holly laughed. “That’s impossible unless you paint the whole thing pink. Now, just out of curiosity, is Ryan still there?”

“For the moment, but he’s going to spend August at a house that one of his mother’s friends is letting him use.”

“And how’s it been going with him lately anyway? Or should I be minding my own business?”

The last time they’d talked, Morgan had filled Holly in on the gist of what had happened the day she and Ryan paddled to Peaks Island. “It’s fine, but let’s just say that being around him remains a challenge. Like every hour of every day.”

“Details, girlfriend. I need details. I’m totally bored with being an invalid already.”

“Relax, you’ll have plenty of time to interrogate me after tomorrow.”

“True enough,” Holly said. “I can’t wait to see you and Lily again. Being able to spend a month with the people I love most in the world is almost worth rupturing a tendon.”

“I’m glad you said
almost
or I’d have to drive you straight to the psychiatric hospital after surgery.” Holly was pretty much a workaholic.

Her friend laughed. “I guess I’d better call Aunt Florence now and let her know she’s off the hook. I hope Sabrina doesn’t mind me crashing at your place. You’ll tell me if she has any problem with it, right?”

“She’ll be fine. Sabrina loves you like a sister.”

“I love her too, and I can’t wait to see both of you. And Ryan too.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow when I’m leaving town,” Morgan said.

“Okay. Love you lots,” Holly said and disconnected.

Sabrina’s eyes were wide when Morgan turned around. Clearly, her sister had heard everything. “You’re okay with all that, right?” Morgan said.

Sabrina shrugged. “It’s no big deal for you to go to Boston. Not as long as Ryan’s here with me.”

At Mackerel Cove, Ryan beached his kayak. He popped open the forward hatch and pulled out a clean Red Sox T-shirt so he could look half-assed presentable at the restaurant. By stopping here, he could walk the length of the small island to Cook’s Lobster House for lunch.

He started off at a quick pace along the narrow road. There wasn’t a lot to see—just a smattering of modest houses and the little motel with the miniature lighthouse out front that had survived since his last trip here. He had so much energy he could easily have run all the way to the restaurant and back. Since starting work at the B&B, he’d felt better physically every day—and mentally too. Helping Morgan and Sabrina had given him a different kind of purpose this summer. Kayaking, working out, and lazing around like he’d planned would’ve had a certain purpose too, but taking care of business at Golden Sunset made him feel like he was doing something important.

The work had been hard at times, and reroofing the B&B in blazing heat had been a bitch in particular. Yet it brought its own set of rewards, like the camaraderie he’d shared with Aiden and Roy as they worked and joked around on breaks. Like the joy in little Christian’s eyes every time Ryan took the awkward, enthusiastic kid out for a kayak lesson.

But hands down the biggest reward came from Morgan. She’d thanked him about a million times, even for
the most minor things, and had flatly credited him with saving the inn with his idea about last-minute bookings. Sabrina had grown closer to him too, which really surprised him. She’d even told him a few days ago that she sometimes wished he could stay forever.

Which was, of course, a completely crazy idea.

Still, moving out of the B&B wasn’t going to be easy, because part of him wanted to stay with Morgan for the rest of the summer or maybe even longer. He loved coming downstairs every morning and seeing her in the kitchen or puttering around outside, usually in a tight little tee and cute pair of shorts that showcased her long, gorgeous legs. She always greeted him with a sweet smile and a quip that seemed to start the day off on the right foot.

The truth was he loved seeing her at any time of day, though it was murder to have to be so careful with her. Ryan wanted her as much as ever, but he’d meant it when he said the ball was in her court. Unfortunately, it looked like she intended to keep that ball carefully tucked away, at least for now.

So it was probably a good thing that his mom’s friend was letting him use her house for a month. And maybe it was time to focus a lot harder on what he was going to do with his life instead of getting so comfortable in Morgan Merrifield’s cozy little world. At this point, it was probably better for both of them if he moved out of Golden Sunset and generally moved along.

After all, he would be leaving the island once the summer ended. Then life would get back to normal—which meant he’d see Morgan, his family, and his friends only once a year.

He shrugged off the discomfort that came with that
thought, picking up his pace. As he neared Cook’s Lobster House, he gazed across to the picturesque little harbor and bridge. The blue of the Atlantic, gently rolling in the distance, made him stop and suck in some deep breaths of fresh sea breeze. Lobster boats were everywhere in sight, both moored in the harbor and sailing on the open sea past the granite slabs of the Cribstone Bridge. It was living art that he’d seen a hundred times, serene and beautiful. And for some reason today, it stopped him dead in his tracks.