Bay Song Page 25

  He smiled at her with a swell of pride and relief. He knew what a big step it was for her. When she’d been staying at his mother’s, she’d barely left the house, except to go the sheriff’s office. She hadn’t wanted to go around town with him—with anyone.

  Her old reclusive habits were really hard to break.

  She would probably never be a social butterfly, but maybe—step-by-step—she’d try to break out of her isolation.

  Going into town with him today would be a very good first step.

  “You’re not going to expect me to get a new bathing suit, are you?” she asked in a different tone, slanting him a delicious look.

  He chuckled as he went to the kitchen to get himself a cup of coffee. She hadn’t had a coffeemaker, so he’d brought one over with him last night.

  He couldn’t possibly go without coffee. “Don’t you dare.”

  They were both laughing as they walked outside, Holly with a bottle of water and him with a travel mug of coffee.

  It was a cloudy morning but wasn’t raining, and it wasn’t quite as humid as it had been recently. Holly breathed deeply, an almost rapt expression on her face.

  Cade couldn’t help but enjoy the morning even more because she so obviously did.

  They took the boardwalk down to the beach and then walked the long stretch of sand, walking close enough to the bay to feel a few of the higher waves brush against their feet.

  “When do you like to write?” she asked out of the blue, evidently just following the line of her thoughts.

  “When?”

  “When during the day?”

  He gave a half shrug. “Whenever. Usually afternoons. A lot of times I write late into the night.”

  “I guess that’s your excuse for sleeping in late.”

  “As if I need an excuse.”

  She took his arm and watched with delight the sea birds pecking at the sand and soaring above the waves, looking for their morning meal.

  “I was thinking I might go to college,” she said, once more without segue.

  He stopped. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” She looked almost sheepish. “I’d like to, I think. And if I take classes online, I can do it pretty cheaply and not have to be surrounded by other people. I have to do something.”

  A warmth flooded his chest, and he gave her a one-armed hug. “I know you do. I think that’s a great idea.”

  “Good.” She sighed. “I guess that means I’ll have to get Internet access.”

  Cade laughed. “Definitely.”

  When they’d reached the far end of her property, she stood and squinted off into the distance at the pier.

  “He’s not there?” Cade asked, narrowing his gaze as he looked for the old man with the rod, who never fished.

  “Not yet.” Holly didn’t look concerned. “It might be a little early. He’s not always there first thing. I can come back later to look.”

  Cade nodded, praying the man would be there the way he’d always been before. He didn’t want Holly to think that everything had changed, all the fond aspects of her old life completely scattered with the upheaval.

  They walked up the dunes, moving through the low brush until they got to the path on the edge of the woods.

  As soon as they reached the first trees, Cade saw Holly’s eyes search the shadows.

  She was looking for her fox.

  Cade scanned the woods too but didn’t see him.

  Holly cleared her throat and didn’t say anything.

  He said, “It might take a while for the animals to realize that all the activity has gone and it’s safe for them to come back again.”

  “I know.” Her face was perfectly calm, but Cade knew—he knew—she’d felt the loss of the fox this morning.

  He prayed at least a few of the deer would be there.

  Surely they all wouldn’t be scared away, not when there were perfectly good apples scattered over the ground.

  He took her hand as they walked, and she squeezed his fingers as if to tell him that she appreciated him and that she was all right.

  The path had gotten covered with leaves over the past few weeks, so he kicked some of them out of the way as they walked.

  When they’d nearly reached the deer clearing, he started to hold his breath. Holly was still and silent too as they took the last steps past the trees.

  Her hand tightened dramatically around his when they saw one brown female, standing near the far edge of the clearing, chomping on an apple.

  The deer tensed up and raised its head quickly, evidently sensing their presence. She stared at them with wide brown eyes for a long time.

  Then she slowly lowered her head and started to eat again.

  Cade let out a breath.

  As they stood and watched, a couple of other deer made an appearance, whatever instinct they possessed telling them there was food available here with little danger.

  They seemed more nervous than they’d been when he’d seen them before, but there ended up to be four of them, feasting on the apples and the vegetation that had grown up over the past few weeks.

  When Cade turned to look at Holly, he saw tears were streaming down her cheeks.

  He was strangely moved by the sight—by how deeply she felt, how deeply it meant to her that the deer hadn’t all scattered.

  They stayed watching for a long time, and then Holly finally squeezed his hand, wiped the tears away, and started to walk toward the opposite side of the property.

  She was looking the whole time—silently, subtly—for the fox, but he never did make an appearance.

  Maybe later. There would be other days, other mornings, other walks.

  When they had reached the end of the woods, Cade said, “Maybe the fox will show up again soon.”

  Holly nodded and didn’t answer with words.

  They’d reached the house again when she said, “I’m going to go look for the grizzled man on the pier. You can go back and shower or get more coffee if you want.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Cade said. “Just let me grab my binoculars first. I need to observe him some more anyway since he’s going to be the opening vignette in my book.”

  Holly smiled, obviously pleased—either with his decision to come with her or the fact that he was taking her suggestion and writing about the man.

  Cade ran inside, refilled his coffee mug, grabbed the binoculars, and rejoined Holly.

  The two of them walked down the boardwalk again together and then down the beach toward the border of the property.

  She was squinting as they reached the spot she always stopped to look for him. “He’s there!” She was smiling as she turned to meet Cade’s eyes. “He’s there.”

  “Good.”

  Holly was happy, he realized. She had her home again. It might not be exactly as it had been before, but the things she’d loved weren’t forever lost.

  Her world could still be beautiful—and maybe even more beautiful now that the center of it was no longer dark and bleeding and neglected.

  She’d said she would try to come to town with him later today. She was going to get Internet access. Start taking college classes.

  And he was going to try writing a very different kind of book.

  He raised the binoculars and examined the old man—gray hair, gray stubble, faraway expression. The man held the fishing rod but hadn’t cast it.

  Evidently he never did.

  “I just love him.” Holly breathed.

  In the strangest way—a way he’d never expected to feel—Cade loved the old man too.

  He could feel it in his throat.

  Then Holly grabbed his shirt and turned him around to face her. “But not as much as I love you.”

  ***

  If you enjoyed Bay Song, you might check out the excerpt from my next release, Relinquish, the first book in a spin-off series from the Willow Park series, on the following pages.

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  Excerpt from Relinquish

  He was so absorbed in the book that he didn’t even notice when someone sat down on the chaise beside him.

  When he finally became aware of the presence, he looked up with a frown. He didn’t like people hovering around him.

  He blinked in surprise to discover it was Betsy.

  She looked fresh, pretty, and smiling, and he couldn’t help but smile back.

  “Hi,” she said. “That must be a good book.”

  “It is,” he said.

  He wasn’t sure why he thought she looked so pretty this morning. Her light brown hair was pulled back in its normal ponytail, and her clear skin and even features was free of makeup. She wore jeans, a white T-shirt, and sandals, which was a normal outfit for her.

  Maybe it was just because he was used to seeing her all the time, and he hadn’t seen her in twenty hours.

  Since he found the feeling disturbing, he immediately switched gears to something more comfortable and familiar. “Did I get any email?” he asked.

  Her smile faded slightly. “A couple. Nothing important.”

  “Who were they?”

  “It doesn’t matter. I forwarded them on to Rick. He’ll take care of them.”

  John stifled the frustration over not having control of his own email account. “Calls?”

  “Just Mark. I talked to him for a bit.”

  “He knew about me coming here?” He didn’t like the idea of his brother—who had been through so much more than John ever would—knew he was being coddled this way.

  “Yes. I ran it by him before we arranged everything. He thought it was a good idea.”

  This made John scowl slightly, but he was determined to be less grumpy today so he didn’t speak his thoughts.

  They sat in silence for a minute. Then Betsy reached over to take his e-reader from his hand and looked down at the screen. That was just like her. No standing on ceremony or artifice. If she wanted to do something, she just did it.

  She started to frown as she peered down at his Kindle. “Why are you reading this?”

  “Because I want to.”

  “But it’s a work book.”

  “I don’t care. This is the kind of thing I read.” His happy feelings at her appearance were starting to dim.

  “You’re supposed to be on a break. Why don’t you try reading a novel or two?”

  “I don’t like novels. I like nonfiction.”

  “You like work books.”

  “Whatever you want to call it, this is what I read.”

  She looked bad-tempered now too. “If all you’re going to read is things about work, then I’m going to take your Kindle with me.”

  “You’re not going to do anything of the kind. I’m not a child, you know.”

  “I never said you’re a child.” Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and her eyes were flashing. She looked prettier than ever. “But you’re supposed to be resting.”

  “I can rest and read the kind of books I want to read. You can force me to be here, but you can’t force me to change who I am.”

  “No one is trying to change who you are. You’re being ridiculous.”

  “I’m being ridiculous? You’re the one who’s saying there’s something wrong with what I read.”

  “I’m not saying something is wrong with the book. I’m saying that it’s work-focused, when you’re supposed to be thinking about something else.”

  He and Betsy argued occasionally. Things always came up with their jobs that they disagreed on. The arguments were rarely heated, and they always quickly blew over. John wasn’t sure why he was feeling so resentful right now—over such a little thing. But he heard himself snapping, “It’s not your place to tell me what I’m supposed to be doing. You’re not my boss or my girlfriend.”

  He’d gone too far. He knew he’d gone too far. He knew it as soon as the words had come out of his mouth, even before he saw Betsy jerk slightly, like he’d slapped her.

  Betsy was important to him. She didn’t just work with him. She was his friend. It was utterly wrong to imply she was nothing to him but a team-member.

  “Sorry,” he muttered.

  She gave her head a little shake and then gave him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s fine. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

  He was silently cursing himself and searching his mind for some way to make it better. “It was me. It wasn’t you.”

  She smiled again, but this one was just as fake as the one before.

  He’d hurt her. She was trying not to let it show, but he could see it so clearly.

  “It’s fine,” she said, her voice mostly natural. He wasn’t fooled for a minute, though. “I know it’s hard for you to be here, and I’m sorry that we had to trick you into it. I can’t stay very long today anyway. I just wanted to drop by and say hi and give you this.” She handed him a brown paper shopping bag.

  “What is it?”

  “Just a few things.” She stood up and was still holding onto that terrible, fake smile, the one that was killing him to see. “I can drop by tomorrow if you want.”

  His throat was hurting and his heart was racing and he couldn’t think of a single thing to say to make this better. “That would be great. Thanks.”

  She nodded and smiled and kept nodding and smiling until she finally turned around and walked away.

  John stared after her, almost shaking with how stupid he had been.

  Then he idly opened the bag to look down into it.

  Inside were a few paperback books—novels, he immediately noticed—a container of what looked like homemade brownies, a pack of playing cards, and pair of binoculars.

  She’d put together some little things that he might be able to use while he was here. Small things but thoughtful, generous, sweet.

  “Damn it,” he muttered, slipping his Kindle into the bag and standing up. He ran back into the building, down the stairs, and through the lobby.

  He caught up with Betsy as she was walking down the front steps to the parking area.

  “Betsy!” he called. “Betsy, wait!”

  She stopped and turned around, staring at him in surprise.

  “I’m sorry,” he said breathlessly, pulling to a stop right in front of her. “I’m really sorry.”

  “You already said that. I understand. I really do. It’s no big deal.”

  “It is a big deal. I should never have treated you like that. You’re really… really important to me. And thank you for the stuff.”

  She nodded and dropped her eyes.

  He pulled his brows together and tilted up her chin so he could see her face. He didn’t want her to still be upset. He didn’t want her to be pretending to be fine with things.

  He wanted her to like him again.

  He froze for a moment when he saw a single tear sliding down her cheek.

  She swiped it away quickly, clearly not wanting him to see it.

  He had seen it, though. She wasn’t a woman who cried much or easily.

  “Oh, damn, Betsy,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry.”

  “You don’t have to say it again.” She’d squared her shoulders and was meeting his eyes now. “It’s not a big deal. Really.”

  “But you’re—”

  “I’m not crying,” she insisted, despite the evidence to the contrary. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I think it’s just being home, relaxing, I’m just kind of… letting down. I’m more tired than I realized. It’s really nothing. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

  “I deserve to feel bad. You’ve been great to me. I’ve been the ass.”

  She gave a little shrug, but her smile now was real. Slightly wobbly, but real.

  He exhaled in relief. “I’m really sorry.”

  “Please don’t say it again.”

  “Do you really have to go so soon?”


  “I…” She dropped her eyes and then raised them again. “I should have lunch with my mother.”

  “How is she doing?”

  “She’s pretty good. Her knees are really bothering her, but otherwise she’s healthy. She’s staying just as busy as always.”

  “Give her my best.”

  “I will.”

  “Thanks for the stuff.”

  “You’re welcome. You don’t have to read the books, if you don’t want.”

  “I’ll give them a try.”

  She smiled at him, and he knew he’d said the right thing for once.

  “You’ll come tomorrow?” He was surprised that his voice sounded so urgent, as if it was the most important thing in the world that she return the next day.

  “Yes. I’ll come.”

  “Maybe you can stay longer.”

  She nodded. “Yes. Yes, I’m sure I can.”

  “Good.”

  They stared at each other in silence for a moment. Then she gave herself a little shake and turned away. “Bye.”

  “Bye, Betsy.”

  He stood and watched as she walked to her car. His eyes couldn’t help but dip down to admire the rounded curve of her ass in her jeans. She wasn’t built like a model. She wasn’t very tall, and she had all kinds of tantalizing curves.

  He hadn’t been oblivious to this fact over the years, although he’d made sure to never let himself dwell on it.

  He shouldn’t be dwelling on it now.

  He shouldn’t. At all.

  And he definitely shouldn’t be letting his body find hers so interesting.

  He’d been a failure in every way today.

  He’d have to do better tomorrow.

  ***

  You can find out more about Relinquish here.

  About Noelle Adams

  Noelle handwrote her first romance novel in a spiral-bound notebook when she was twelve, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. She has lived in eight different states and currently resides in Virginia, where she writes full time, reads any book she can get her hands on, and offers tribute to a very spoiled cocker spaniel.

  She loves travel, art, history, and ice cream. After spending far too many years of her life in graduate school, she has decided to reorient her priorities and focus on writing contemporary romances. For more information, please check out her website: noelle-adams.com.