Trapped in Tourist Town (19 page)

“I'm so sorry, sweetheart! I was just moving the deli platter. I had no idea your tip jar was so close to the edge.” Her mother dropped to her knees and began to pick up the larger pieces of glass.

“Hey, no, it's no big deal. Please let me do this. I don't want you to cut yourself.”

Cady pulled her mother up off the floor and gently pushed her away from the tip jar carnage.

“Mom, why don't you take Auntie back to Kittredge Manor? I think she's had a long day.”

Still haunted by the look on her aunt's face as she sat caressing the baby outfit, Cady shuddered.

“I'll help you clean up.” Burke was suddenly at her elbow.

“No. I've got this. Really. You go on home. I'll call you later.” Knowing the wounded puppy dog look that was sure to be on his face, she kept her gaze focused on the broken glass.

If she looked at him now, she'd cave. She would let him help her clean up the mess. She'd invite him back up to her apartment and they would spend the rest of the night making love. And tomorrow she would be wondering if she'd just lost a little piece of herself.

So, no. She had some thinking to do. And she needed to do it alone. Putting her blinders on, Cady went in search of the broom and dustpan. She returned to the front of the bakery to find that everyone had cleared out. He'd actually left. He had listened and was respectful of her needs. So why had she immediately turned into a blubbering idiot? Sniffling, she swept up the broken tip jar, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand.

• • •

She should be here with him. Well, no, that was a poor choice of words. He would have liked her to be here with him, to share this moment, to give her input. Burke followed the Realtor through the raised ranch, knowing the woman was chattering on about the features of the house, but too absorbed in his own thoughts to be able to hear anything but a garbled buzz.

He knew the baby shower was rough on Cady yesterday. He could see that she was starting to waver. Family meant so much to her. It would have been so easy to take advantage of that, to be selfish and take what he wanted for himself. Chase had pulled him aside at the party and said the same thing. Cady's big brother claimed to have her best interests at heart, but Burke knew better.

They were upstairs now. Burke left the large master suite and stepped into the smaller room beside it.
The nursery.
He blinked. It was a bare room, white walls and no furnishings, so why his mind automatically went there he wasn't sure. But the harder he stared, the clearer the picture came to mind. The walls were a smoky blue-grey; no pastels for his son. Sports memorabilia decorated the room. A rocking chair would sit by the window, overlooking the thick woods at the back of the house. He could almost hear Cady crooning a lullaby as she nursed their infant.

“There are three bedrooms upstairs and the guest room downstairs. Do you and your wife have any kids?”

The Realtor's words finally penetrated and Burke whipped his head around. Wife? Kids? He'd caught her covert looks at his left hand as they were walking up the driveway so he knew she was fishing. Just a few months ago he would have been flattered, probably would have played along. Today he had zero interest and was mildly irritated that a professional Realtor could be so transparent.

“Not yet. But we're trying. That's the fun part.”
Take a hint, lady!

She pursed her lips into a semblance of a smile and turned away. Burke took one last look around the room before joining the woman in the hallway. Sure, it was impulsive, but something about this big house called to him. It was close to town but still had the illusion of isolation. It didn't have the incredible ocean view that his rental cottage did, but it had an even better one of the river.

Cady would tell him he was making a rash decision. She'd say this was merely a reaction to the discovery of his father's “other” family. She'd tell him to hold off, wait until he'd calmed down and could think rationally. She would cringe at the thought of him throwing so much money into something as permanent as a mortgage.

That is, if she knew about what went down during that meeting with his father in New York. He'd meant to tell her by now. It just hadn't come up. And the longer he sat on it, the worse he felt. He'd talk to her today. Right after he signed those loan papers.

The meeting with his editor had gone much smoother than the one with his father. Meredith must have heard Burke's story a lot, someone writing for a magazine but dreaming of making it on their own. She was nice about it, offered him her best wishes and thanked him for his years of hard work. He'd stayed up all night last night, finishing up the last few articles for submission, and after a last cup of coffee, sent them off first thing this morning. It was done. He was staying in Scallop Shores.

There was nothing left for him in New York. Burke had turned his back on his family, his past. He belonged to a new town now. He had new friends. Granted, he didn't feel close enough to anyone but Cady to reveal his connections to Sanders Resorts—yet. Sure, he'd get razzed for it, especially by Cady's older brother. But these were good people and he knew that he could trust them.

After he left the Realtor and the house that was now his, Burke headed toward town. Cady would be closing up the bakery about now and if he sneaked in, she'd have to talk to him. He wanted to celebrate. He wanted to share his good news with her. He was officially unemployed and was about to purchase his first home. Yeah, she'd think him insane. He'd need to come up with a different way to break this to her.

Taking a left at the Civil War monument, he drove toward the cottage instead. He was going to miss the tiny place with a peek at the ocean. Hell, he'd even miss his little bandit-friend. Though, now that he'd be living in such a densely forested part of town, Burke imagined he'd discover lots of new woodland creatures traipsing through his yard. He wasn't sure if he should be thrilled or terrified.

Dusty dirt crunched under the tires as he pulled into the rental's short driveway. He parked under a tall pine, peering up at the small porch that led to his front door. For the last few days Burke had spotted a small dog running around his property and the surrounding rental cottages. He'd assumed that it belonged to a family vacationing nearby. Today the furry guy lay on his porch, head on his paws, looking like he'd lost his best friend.

Not wanting to startle the poor pooch, Burke slipped out of the car and edged up toward the stairs, holding his hand out in front of him. The little dog had longish black fur that stuck up in all directions. His snout was short and piggish. He didn't know anything about dogs, never having so much as a goldfish when he was growing up, so he couldn't tell what breed it was. Judging by the look of him, he was a mixture of several. Purebred mutt.

“Come for a visit, have you, buddy?” Burke sat down on the top step and was welcomed with the steady thumping of a shaggy tail.

He reached out and stroked the silky head. The little dog stood up, stretched, and rubbed up against Burke's side. Cute little guy.

“What's your name, huh, fella?” He was surprised to find that the dog wasn't even wearing a collar.

Who did he belong to? Would the vet have a way of finding the owners? Impulsively, Burke picked up the dog and pulled him close. He laughed as the dog bathed his cheek in doggy kisses.

This poor little guy needed a champion and suddenly Burke couldn't think of anything more important to do with the rest of his afternoon than help his new friend. Carrying the furry mutt to his car, Burke drove to the vet clinic that he'd seen in town. He hoped they wouldn't mind taking a walk-in.

A couple of hours later they were back home. The vet had searched for a microchip that would help them locate the dog's owners. Unable to find one, and based on the fact that the dog also had no collar, the vet had come to the conclusion that the dog had been left behind. He said this sad occurrence happened several times over the course of the summer, families abandoning their pets like garbage left behind at camp sites.

Horrified that anyone could be so cruel to someone so helpless, Burke had decided then and there that he would give the dog a home. The scrappy thing was so small that no one had given him a hard time when he'd brought him inside the grocery store, setting him in the top of the cart usually reserved for babies and small toddlers. Burke had bought enough food and toys for several dogs. He'd bought a collar and a leash at the vet.

When he got into the house he took a pillow off the bed and the threadbare green blanket off the couch to fashion a dog bed on the floor. The dog walked cautiously through the cottage, as though he were unsure what to make of all this kindness. Burke didn't blame the little guy for finding trust a little hard to come by.

“We've got a lot in common, you and me.” He sat down on the couch and patted his lap, encouraging the dog to hop up. After a moment's hesitation, he did.

The vet had told Burke that the dog appeared to be about a year old. He guessed that the family had gotten him as a puppy, and now that the cute stage was over, the idea of dog ownership had begun to bore them.

“Well, I have no idea what you were called before, but I figure you're young enough that I can give you a new name and you can adapt.” Burke ruffled the dog's fluffy ears as he pondered.

Chuckling, he thought of his little midnight visitor and the first time he met Chase Eaton. As embarrassing as that night was, it was also the moment he began to feel as though he were a part of the community. Burke grinned down at the hairy little beast who was fast worming its way into his heart.

“I think I'm going to call you Bandit. What do you think? Bandit?”

Placing his paws on Burke's chest, Bandit stretched up to lick his new master's chin.

“Bandit it is, then.”

They sat together on the couch for a long time, Burke scratching the dog between the ears. He'd said goodbye to his old life and his job. He'd bought a house and been adopted by a dog. Life was good and he really had no right to be asking for more. But what the hell? He'd come this far. The only thing missing was Cady.

“Wait until you meet her, Bandit. You're going to love her.”
Just like I do.
Burke sighed. It probably shouldn't have come as such a surprise that he would fall for the one woman in town determined to leave it.

Old Man Feeney was the last customer out of the bakery that afternoon and it was all Cady could do to keep from slamming the door behind him. She flipped the sign to
Closed
with more force than necessary and watched to see if it would fly off its hook. When it stopped swinging, she had half a mind to tear it off the door and throw it across the room.

Taking a deep breath and blowing it out as slowly as possible, Cady tried to shake off her funk. She rubbed at the back of her neck as she slipped behind the counter, grabbed a Diet Coke out of the cooler, and carried it to the table in the corner. Swinging the chair around, she straddled it, cracked open her can of soda, and took a deep swallow.

Oh, how she loved the smell of her precious espresso beans, but there was just something about Diet Coke that calmed her soul. Another swig and she settled down to the mundane task of reordering napkins, to-go cups, and plastic cutlery. She flipped through the pages of the catalog, familiar enough with the contents that she knew exactly where to find everything she needed.

It meant less browsing and more efficient work time. She could send off her order, finish the day's paperwork, and enjoy the rest of her day guilt-free. What she would do with that day, she hadn't the foggiest. Everyone was busy with their own lives. She may as well have left Scallop Shores already. Cady winced at the sound of paper tearing as she turned the page a little too aggressively. Guess that funk hadn't quite gone away.

Smoothing down the glossy page, she did what she told herself she wasn't going to do—she browsed. Whenever she ordered for the bakery, she did it on Mr. Logan's dime. She sought out the best deals, found items on clearance, and bought the most generic, boring supplies that were offered. But there were some really cool things in here. She scrambled up from her chair, sent a covert glance toward the plate glass window before racing behind the counter for the bakery supply catalog. A sneaking thrill raced down her spine as she began to peruse the pages, not for Logan's Bakery supplies, but for items—for her own place.

Firstly, it wouldn't be a bakery, but a coffee shop. After all, it was the coffee that brought her regular customers in at seven a.m. every day, and free refills that kept them in their seats for the better part of the morning. Cady looked around the bakery, mentally rearranging the glass display cases and adding furniture like cozy armchairs and a scattering of bistro-style tables. Oh, and a fireplace! Old Man Feeney could warm himself by the fire instead of sitting on a hard stool at the counter, with no support for his back.

Cady blinked. Only this fictitious coffee shop wouldn't be in Scallop Shores. It would be in New York City. Right now it was just a fantastic, exciting dream. Feeling a little like a deflated balloon, she pushed the order forms aside and rested her elbows on the table. She was going to miss this place. She'd been a part of Logan's Bakery since she turned sixteen and needed spending money for books, music, and new clothes.

Had it really been more than ten years since she'd started as a part-time cashier? Cady had waited far too long to start saving for her eventual move to Manhattan. In the Eaton household, if you wanted something badly enough, you saved up for it. That was how she earned her first phone, and the TV in her bedroom. She'd saved up and paid her own way through college courses at the local community college in Port Kitt.

This glaring reminder of the passage of time did nothing to make her feel nostalgic. Instead, it fueled her determination. She had been talking the talk long enough. Ripping the top page off the notebook she'd brought to the table, Cady began to pen her resignation letter. She was giving Mr. Logan one month to find her replacement. It meant he'd have to stick around long enough to actually make a decision or two regarding his own business. She wasn't sure he was up to the task. But he didn't have a choice. She was leaving.