Hard Core Page 4
He pressed his hand to his chest as if an arrow had struck him.
Linda and I exchanged a smile before I returned to the coffee counter. Behind me, the front door opened. I didn’t need to look back to know it was Rachel. She had a unique way of almost skipping into the shop and she always brought the smell of cinnamon with her.
I circled around to the back of the counter to stack the clean cups. Rachel hurried to the counter and pointed at her phone. “I’ve got the timer set for a batch of cookies.” She’d stopped by first thing in the morning to deliver her baked goods but had too much to do to wait for details. Now, she had, apparently, carved out some time while her cookies baked. “So, you said there was a walk on the beach. Nice start. What happened?”
I held back a smile. Sometimes it was just too much fun to tease her. I leaned forward and lowered my voice as if there were some really juicy nuggets to follow. “Well, I put on my sweatshirt, the gray one with the hood. I walked down to meet him on the sand. Then—” I paused for dramatic effect. “We walked . . . on the beach.”
Rachel nearly fell forward in disappointment. “That’s it. No kiss? No suggestive flirting? No future plans set?”
“Oh that,” I waved my hand. “We made out right there on the sand, and the wedding is set for next week.”
“You are just the queen of comedy, do you know that?”
“I’ve got to get some napkins from the back room, keep an eye on the counter.” Naturally, she ignored me and scooted right behind, following me to the back.
I put my hand up and stopped her in the doorway. “At least stay right there so you can let me know if I have a customer.” I crouched down and began moving some boxes to get to the new fall napkins I’d ordered.
“I’m not letting you get off so easy, my friend. What did you think of the guy? Any potential?”
I’d found myself thinking about my new neighbor more than once throughout the morning. He wasn’t the kind of guy who could just pass through your life unnoticed. Not only was he extraordinary to look at, he was surprisingly easy to talk to. I pushed a box of cup holders aside and looked up at Rachel as she leaned against the doorjamb, waiting expectantly for my answer.
“He’s intriguing, that’s for sure.”
“I’ll take that as a maybe because I know you don’t give out compliments easily when it comes to men.”
“You make me sound like a shrew.”
“Not a shrew. Just someone who needs her opinion of the opposite sex brightened up a little. I know it’s hard for you to believe, but there are some good ones out there in the world.”
“Yes, your revolving door dating policy would be proof of that.”
“I’m just picky.”
The tiny bell on the front door rang. Rachel leaned out to see if a customer needed help. She released a small squeak, which I was almost certain was a squeal of delight squelched by a heaping dose of self-control. She stared straight out into the shop as she spoke. “My picky claim is being tested right now. Jeezus,” she muttered.
Rachel turned back to me just as I emerged victoriously with my fall napkins. The expression on her face startled me.
“Rach, what is it?”
“Is there such thing as a spontaneous orgasm, cuz I think I’m about to experience my first.”
I raised a brow at her. “O.K. weird friend, I think you’ve been sniffing too much sugar. You’re not making sense.”
“Oh yeah? Well, check out your newest customer and tell me that your mind doesn’t go straight to the same idea.”
I lifted the box and walked past her with a head shake. She followed close enough behind to nearly smack into me when I stopped short.
Ledger smiled when he saw me. I couldn’t hold back my own. “You came.”
“I was on Second Avenue, and I thought, hey, some coffee would be nice. And seeing my neighbor again would be a bonus.”
I could almost hear Rachel’s chin drop to the floor behind me. She poked me discretely.
“Oh, Ledger, this is my friend Rachel.”
He reached out his hand. “The muffin baker. Nice to meet you.”
Rachel was never speechless or shy, but it took her a good, long moment to unfreeze from her catatonic state. I couldn’t blame her really. In my quaint, sparsely decorated coffee shop, Ledger stood out like someone had lit a brilliant display of fireworks. Other customers could slip in and out with their coffees and be completely overlooked, but Ledger had pulled every gaze in the place his direction. Some looked on suspiciously at the stranger, and one who was big in stature and covered in tattoos, no less. Others looked on in what could only be described as curious awe.
Rachel’s phone went off with bells and whistles, but her attention stayed glued to the man at the counter. “So you moved into the Bombay Cottage?” she finally managed to eek out a question.
“I’ve heard that’s what it’s called. I don’t know about cottage, but yes, that’s where I’m staying.”
I elbowed my shell-shocked friend. “Rach, won’t your cookies be burning?”
It took her a second to comprehend my question. “Oh, yes, darn it. Nice meeting you. I’ve got to run.” She shuffled to the door, looking back as she went, and nearly tripping over Peter, who was making his way up to the counter.
The cold fall weather was doing a number on his knees. I could see the pain in every step.
“Pete, what did you need?” I asked. “I can bring it to you.”
“Nonsense. The more I move, the better the legs feel.” He walked up to the counter and stared at it as if he was trying to find a reason for being there. His gaze landed on the stirrers and he plucked one out of the cup. Of course, I knew his second and last cup had been drained a half hour ago. He lifted his gray-blue eyes to Ledger. “Didn’t you used to work on the Sea Prowler?”
Ledger’s dark brows knitted together as he looked at me for an explanation.
“Peter was captain of a fishing vessel. I think the Sea Prowler was a boat that he knew.”
“Yep, Carl Tuttle was the captain. He always had big, tall kids working on his deck. Thought you might have been one of them.”
“No, I’ve never worked on a fishing boat. But I’ll bet you have some great stories to tell.”
Peter grinned. “I sure do.” I was sure a smidgen of distrust and suspicion had brought Peter to the counter. He was always a little protective of me, but it was as if Ledger had known exactly what to say to win over the old man’s trust.
Ledger stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Peter. I’m Ledger. I’m new in town.” He looked over toward the corner where all of Peter’s friend were sitting and staring raptly at the newcomer. “Maybe sometime I can sit down with you and hear them.”
That was it. Peter nearly melted into a puddle at his feet. I needed to watch myself. The guy even knew how to sweet talk a salty old sailor with one short conversation.
“You bet.” Peter stuck the coffee stirrer in his mouth like a toothpick or the end of a pipe and nodded approvingly before shuffling back to his table.
“What can I get you?” I asked Ledger.
“A coffee and if you have two of those blueberry muffins—”
“Sure do. Did you want to stay and eat it here?” As I spoke a young couple walked in. The husband had a baby carrier in his hand. The infant was wiggling under a pink blanket. A girl. A newborn. I watched them as they sat at a table. The woman pulled out a bottle from her bag as the man lifted the baby from the carrier.
I dragged my eyes away from their table and refocused them on Ledger. From the look on his face, he’d answered my question, but I hadn’t heard it. “I’m sorry, did you say you were going to eat it here?”
“I can’t stay. I’m meeting someone about a possible job.”
“Oh
good.” I had to work hard at peeling my mind completely away from the family and the baby. “I’ll heat those muffins.”
I walked over to the bakery case and grabbed out the muffins. The baby released a series of sweet gurgles followed by the satisfied sigh of having the bottle in her mouth. I doubted anyone else heard it, but I heard the tiny sounds as if they’d been broadcast over a loudspeaker.
“I was wondering, Jacy,” Ledger’s voice pulled my attention back toward him. “If you’re not doing anything tonight, would you like to go get some dinner?”
A date. My new, completely breathtaking neighbor was asking me out. The whole idea sounded as appealing as it sounded terrifying. I was in Rockwood Beach to restart my life, but, in truth, I’d only restarted part of it. My social life and any possibility of an intimate relationship had been put on indefinite hold.
“Dinner?” I repeated unnecessarily. His brown eyes always seemed to be looking right into my mind, as if he knew my thoughts and feelings and . . . everything else about me.
The baby let out a short wail as the nipple fell from its mouth. My gaze shot toward the table. The young, fledgling mother quickly pushed the bottle back in place.
“No,” I said, far too abruptly. I took a breath. “I’m sorry, but I’ve got paperwork to do. Thank you though.”
Ledger’s disappointment was palpable even as he nodded with understanding.
I handed him the coffee and muffins, and he paid without another word.
“It’s hard to explain, Ledger. But I can tell you, this is the closest I’ve ever come to saying yes.”
A half smile cocked his mouth as he put away his wallet. “I guess I have to be satisfied knowing that. Take care, neighbor.” The entire coffee shop watched as the tall, broad-shouldered man walked out with his coffee and muffin. I watched longest of all.
Chapter 9
-Ledger-
The walk to the pier was easier, even if less scenic, by way of city sidewalk. I could have driven over in my rumbling, hobbling truck, but I’d needed the time to think about the morning. I’d almost expected Jacy to say no to a date, but that hadn’t lessened the disappointment. I was moving too fast, and the last thing I needed to do was startle her away for good. I was going to chill on the whole plan. It was a crazy fucking plan anyhow.
Mike was sitting on a stool crouched over as he adjusted the chain on a bicycle. He glanced up over the seat at the sound of my footsteps. “Morning.” He groaned and rubbed his back as he straightened. “Seems like with each passing year some other part of me hurts.” He pointed at the bike. “They’ve got a harvest carnival happening in town, so the pier and beach will be crowded. It’s one of my best after summer weekends.”
“Let me know if you need any help.”
“Might just take you up on that.”
I handed him the cup of coffee and the second muffin.
“Wow, thanks.” He lifted the cup. “You’re not having any?”
“I’m not much of a coffee drinker.”
“You went all the way to the coffee shop just for me?” He took a sip. “Hmm, that hits the spot. Or, was there another motive for your coffee buy? The pretty shop owner, for instance?”
I held down a smile as I turned and looked out at the water.
“Ah ha, that was easy. Can’t blame you though. Jacy is something else.”
My attention snapped back to him. “You know her?” I shook my head. “Of course you do. I’m sure she walks this way a lot.”
“She and that big dog of hers visit every couple of weeks. Not as much in the cold weather, but I still see her.” He pulled the muffin out of the bag. “She’s a great kid, but there’s a lot going on with her.”
I leaned against the railing on the pier. “What do you mean?”
With some effort, Mike pushed up to his feet. He shifted most of his weight to his good leg, giving him the lopsided stance. “Once you’ve spent time on a battlefield, you get good at seeing into people’s souls. The poor girl has some dark stuff going on. Not quite sure what, but whatever it is, she’s here at Rockwood Beach trying to get away from it. Leaving shadows behind isn’t easy though. Another thing I learned as a soldier. You can’t erase the bad once it’s been etched in your memory. Seems like we hang onto the bad a lot longer and harder than the good.” He looked at me, and for the first time, I saw in his eyes a depth, a pool of understanding that I hadn’t noticed before. He’d seen stuff. He’d mentioned his army days almost as an afterthought, but they were a lot more than that.
“Like you, Ledger.” He inclined his head my direction. “I can see you’ve got plenty bound up in that soul of yours.”
I stared down at my shoes, almost convinced he could read everything on my face.
A gruff laugh rolled up from his belly. “Maybe someday, when you’re up to it, we’ll sit down on that bench, watch the waves, avoid the seagull shit and you can tell me about it.”
I smiled at him. “Sounds like a plan. Guess sitting up here on this pier and watching the world stroll by, you get a pretty deep understanding of people.”
He chased down a muffin bite with his coffee. “If there’s one thing I’ve never been called, Ledger, it’s deep. I’m the bicycle man to people in this town and nothing else.”
“Then the people in this town aren’t paying attention.”
“I talked to Frank, the landscaper. I told him I’d met a young man in need of work who looked like he could dig a swimming pool with a garden shovel. He’s interested.” He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. “This is the address he’s working at this week. It’s the yacht club in the next town. They’re updating their sprinkler system.”
I looked at him. He answered my question without me having to ask it.
“I told him you got yourself into some trouble when you were younger but that you’re looking to turn things around. He’s willing to talk to you, so put on your most charming smile and give it a go.”
“I owe you, Mike.” I tucked the paper in my pocket. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”
Chapter 10
-Ledger-
I unfolded the rickety beach chair. A spider popped out of it and crawled across my hand. I tossed it away, and it hiked over the warped floor toward my mattress. I let it live. I viewed it as a step up from the complete solitude I was feeling.
The chair creaked and wobbled unstably under my weight. I’d saved it and its even more rusted twin from a dumpster. They were the kind that you could use to sit on the sand, but they worked perfectly in front of the picture window overlooking the beach, the only good thing about Bombay Cottage. I popped open my soda and held it up in toast to the empty chair next to me.
The job interview had gone well. I’d even bought a phone right afterward to convince myself I was part of the real world again. The boss, Frank, was kind of a grouch, but he had plenty of work. I’d be spending a lot of time digging ditches, mindless work but a task that would keep me from going stir crazy here in my shack. The pay was decent, for someone whose main job was shoveling dirt. I was sure there were better jobs and opportunities inland, near the big cities, but I decided to stick it out here for awhile. My delusional plan had brought me to Rockwood Beach, and even if it wasn’t going to turn out the way I’d hoped, I could at least hang around, enjoy the beach and figure out what the hell I was going to do with the rest of my life.
The sun had set on the beach. The moon was on the waning or downhill side of full, but it still cast plenty of light on the sand. As diligent as Jacy was at taking an early morning walk on the beach, she didn’t always walk in the afternoon. Not that I hadn’t still kept my eye out for her. I had. But she never walked past. I was still feeling the sting of disappointment after my visit to her shop. But I easily reminded myself that I was not good enough to be part of her life. She deserved the best,
and I was laughably far from that.
The chair made an angry sound as I leaned back and once again questioned my decision to furnish my place with garbage bin relics. The knock on my door that followed was light enough to be shrugged off as wind pushing against it. The next knock was hesitant but louder.
I put down the soda and pushed to my feet. My pulse raced as my hand wrapped around the doorknob. I knew it was her on the other side of the door. I could feel her standing there.
I opened the door. God, she was fucking unbelievable.
Her hands were tucked in her back pockets as she shrugged. “I was feeling like a heel this morning. Truth is, you interest me, and I haven’t felt interest in anyone in a long time. If we could still be friends, I’d really like that.” She paused. I stood silent like a fool. “Now it’s your turn to say something because I’m out of stuff to say.”
I found that it was always easier to swallow back all the feelings first when I was trying to talk to her. “I’d really like it too, Jacy.”
She pulled her hands from her pockets and wrapped them around herself to remind the dolt in the doorway that it was cold outside.
I stepped back. “Come on in. I’ve got some new furniture.”
She walked inside and smiled at the two crummy chairs situated right in front of the picture window. “I like what you’ve done to the place.” She followed her observation with a soft laugh.
Again, I knew I was staring, but I didn’t give a fuck.
She pushed one of her many unruly strands of hair behind her ear. A tiny diamond earring sparkled back at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just wish there was a way to bottle your laugh. I’d wear it on a chain around my neck. That way, I could listen to it anytime.”