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Authors: Denise Hunter

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BOOK: Barefoot Summer
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The rich aroma of good coffee teased his senses as he opened the door and stepped aside for a couple tourists as they exited.
He crossed the squeaky wood floor and got in the line, which, as usual on a Friday night, was a long one.

He looked over the display case, eyeing the pastries. He’d worked straight through lunch, munching on an apple between repair jobs.

When it was his turn, he ordered coffee and a slice of Dutch apple pie from the cashier, a teenaged girl who smiled at him with moony eyes.

After paying, he stepped aside and glanced around the bustling room. Maeve Perkins and Dottie Meyers sat at a window table sipping tea. He recognized a couple tourists who’d rented a fishing boat the day before. They’d returned with a string of smallmouth bass.

He passed over a table near the door, then his eyes returned to the group as he recognized Madison. She was sitting with Cassidy Zimmerman, Stew Flannery, and a man he recognized but couldn’t place. Beckett wasn’t sure how he’d missed them when he’d entered.

Two men, two women—he knew a double date when he saw one. Especially when the familiar man set his hand on the back of Madison’s chair, his knuckles brushing her hair.

Beckett’s jaw clenched as his eyes swung back to her. Dark waves swept over her slender shoulders. The candlelight on the table cast a warm glow over her face and shimmered off her glossy lips. She wore a thin pink sweater over a white top. A silver necklace sparkled against a modest display of her creamy neckline. She laughed at something, and Beckett’s eyes swung to her date.

Beckett suddenly remembered the man. He was the new
doctor at Riverview General. He’d rented a fishing boat after he’d moved to town early in the spring.

He had tousled, light brown hair, a perfect set of teeth, and dimples when he smiled—and he was doing plenty of that.

“Here you go, Mr. O’Reilly,” the teenager said.

He turned to his plated pie and mug of coffee. Last thing he wanted was to be stuck here watching some guy fawn over Madison.

“Sorry, can I get this to go?”

She smiled charmingly. “Absolutely.”

Of course, Madison had gone out with other men before. He’d seen her with dates, but it had been awhile. And that had been before.

Before what, O’Reilly? Before she hired you for lessons?

When was he going to get it through his head that she was off-limits? Their truce was just a ceasefire, not an engraved invitation. Somehow he’d let himself believe there could be more.

Again.
When are you going to get it through your head—you ruined any chance of that ten years ago.

“Here you go.” The girl handed him a sack and to-go cup.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

He turned, ducking his head, and beat a path for the door. When he’d skirted the last table, he reached for the knob.

“Beckett, my man,” Stew said. “Hold up. I was just telling Drew about your custom boats.”

Giving up on his retreat, Beckett stepped over to the table.

“He’s interested in something like the one you made for the Tacketts.”

His eyes went to Madison, and she arched a brow. He’d been gassing it up when Madison had shown up to call a ceasefire. He hadn’t claimed it, even when she’d called it “artwork,” though the word had made him glow inside.

The doctor reached his hand out. “Drew Landon.”

“Beckett O’Reilly.” He shook the man’s hand.

“How long’s something like that take?”

“Depends. On a lot of factors.” He’d only sold two, but he found himself reluctant to do business with Madison’s date. Beckett put his soul into his boats, and he wasn’t sure this guy was worth the effort. Or maybe Beckett just wanted to believe he wasn’t.

Drew pulled out his cell. “Why don’t you give me your number, and we can talk later.”

Beckett rattled off his number, and Dr. Perfect punched it in.

“Great.” The doctor pocketed his phone. “I hope we can do business.”

Beckett nodded to the group in general, but his eyes went to Madison of their own volition. She picked at a crescent roll, her eyes on her plate.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

M
ADISON SET DOWN THE ELECTRIC SANDER AND STEPPED
away from the boat. A cloud of dust hovered overhead, and multicolored flecks of paint carpeted her gravel drive like confetti. The boat had been at least four different colors in past lives. She was planning on painting it midnight blue—if she ever finished sanding. Her hands were numb, and she’d only been at it an hour.

Across the yard, Lulu chased a firefly in the waning light, snapping futilely. Another lit up nearby, and she launched at it, missing when its light faded. Lulu put her nose in the air, sniffing something that eluded Madison’s nose, then shuffled through the grass in search of whatever had piqued her curiosity.

Madison picked up the sander and turned it on. It buzzed to life, vibrating in her palm. She should’ve taken her dad’s advice and bought a mask. She’d probably breathed in half of what she’d sanded away, and she was wearing the other half.

A cool breeze swept through the yard, clearing the dust. The sander hummed, and the musty smell of old wood filled her nostrils.

Her thoughts went back to the coffee shop date that had ended a couple hours ago. Drew seemed nice. He was handsome and attentive, had a good sense of humor. But when Cassidy had mentioned extending the evening with a movie, Madison had declined. She had given Drew her number, though, and if he
asked her out, she’d say yes. He was pleasant enough, and who knew? Sometimes the best kind of love grew from friendship. Or so she’d heard.

A shadow fell across the boat. She turned to see a man nearby. She jumped, almost dropping the sander.

Shutting it off, she glared at Beckett, palming her heart as Lulu bounded forward. “You scared me to death.”

“I said hello, but you didn’t hear.” His eyes traveled over the planes of her face, and his lips twitched as he gave Lulu the requisite belly rub. “You should be wearing goggles and a mask.”

He would catch her all sweaty and dusty. She wiped her face with numb hands, imagining the colorful freckles she must be sporting.

“What brings you here?”

“Tried to reach you on your landline—figured you were still out with your friends. I was going to leave you a note. I just realized I have to reschedule our sailing lesson tomorrow, and of course Evan’s working.”

“Oh.” She felt a stab of disappointment and realized she’d been looking forward to it. Of course she was. It was the next step toward her goal.

He looked at Lulu, scratching behind her ears while the dog’s eyes practically rolled back in her head.

“I have to drive to Indy.”

It was no secret his dad was locked up at the Marion County jail. “Well, no problem. We’ll just pick up next Saturday, then.”

He ran his hand over the unfinished rim of the boat, chips of paint flying off as he went. “So this is your sailboat.”

She tried to see the boat through his eyes and didn’t like what she saw. “She’s kind of a wreck at the moment.”

He walked around the boat, taking it in. She remembered the lovely boat he’d made, with its sleek curves and beautiful finish. Madison hated to admit it, but she cared what he thought, and he couldn’t be thinking anything good.

“Think she’s a lost cause?”

“How’s the motor?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t had it checked, but Michael said she was mechanically sound.”

His hand stopped on the bow. “Michael?”

“It was his. He bought it just before—” She should be able to say the word by now. But Beckett started walking again, sparing her.

“It’s been sitting in my parents’ barn. He used every dime he saved working at the Dairy Barn for two summers. Didn’t even want a car, just wanted this boat.”

Silence hung like dust in the air.

“He was a nice guy,” Beckett said finally. “We didn’t hang in the same crowd, but he was always kind to me.”

That didn’t surprise her, even as different as they’d been—Beckett the resident bad boy; Michael the golden child. Michael had seen the good in everyone, including her. Was it any wonder she’d felt so alone after his death?

“He had a way about him,” she said.

“Not many teens can get away with spouting off about God like he did and still be liked.”

And there was the thought that always chafed her like a burr. For all Michael’s faith, for all his love of God, where was his Lord that day? Was He busy doing something else? Her grandma had always said, “God’s grip never slips.” Well, it had slipped that day. She pushed the disturbing thought away.

“Madison, you can’t really think you’re going to win in this thing.”

“I know she needs a lot of work.”

He shook his head.

She lifted her chin. “I’ll do whatever it takes.” Michael thought the boat had promise, so she must. “Besides, it’s based on handicaps or whatever, right? And I’ll have Evan Higgins helping me. He’s my ace in the hole.”

“The handicap will help, but there’s a lot of work here.”

Beckett didn’t know her very well if he thought a little work was going to make her quit. “I can handle it.”

He rounded the boat and examined the sander. “You need coarser paper. It’ll go a lot faster.” He handed it back. “I could help if you want.”

She blinked at him. The sunset at his back, his eyes darkened to coal. She remembered the look on his face in the coffee shop when Stew had stopped him. He’d hardly looked at her, and she wondered now why that was.

“Why would you do that?” He’d already taught her to swim, on his own free time. Was it possible he—

“I do this kind of thing for fun, remember?” He looked away, ran his hand over the area she’d sanded.

Right. Of course he didn’t . . . How silly of her. If he liked her in that way, he’d ask her out, wouldn’t he?

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t turn down the help. Heaven knows I can use it.”

“I can check the motor too, if you want.”

He was being awfully nice. It was starting to make her suspicious. Maybe he felt guilty about Jade. Maybe helping her was his penance.

“Or not,” he said.

Her every thought was probably written all over her face. “No, I appreciate the offer. Thanks. I can pay you for any repairs.”

“Let’s see how it goes. It may run just fine. When should I come by?”

“Uh, Monday, after supper?”

“Sounds good.”

A cricket chirped from a nearby bush, and in the distance a car door slammed.

“Well, it’s late. I should go.” He backed toward the driveway.

She didn’t want him to leave, she suddenly realized, but she couldn’t find a reason for him to stay. “See you Monday then.”

“See ya.”

She watched him go, with that slow swagger of his, and realized if he’d asked her to a movie, she wouldn’t have found an excuse to say no.

Even though he had a shady past.

Even though she didn’t know what happened with Jade.

Even though he’d once given her the best kiss of her life and then proceeded to forget it had ever happened.

The dance had fallen on a snowy February night during Madison’s sophomore year. Bored and feeling cooped up, the students of Chapel Springs High School had turned out in droves. With a date, in a group, it didn’t matter as long as it got them out of the house.

Madison came with a group of friends and danced with the boys who asked her. But mostly she hung in the corner, trying to
talk Cassidy into asking Luke Cavendish, her current crush, to dance.

Madison had worn her favorite skirt, a white filmy piece that floated around her knees, and her new blue sweater with butterflies embroidered on the collar.

When Mrs. Pinsky announced a social dancing game over the squealing mike, students began taking the floor.

“This is my chance,” Cassidy said when Luke joined the fray. She pulled Madison forward. “Come on!”

Madison followed her to the center of the gym floor where a crowd had gathered, listening to Mrs. Pinsky’s instructions. Boys in the inner circle, rotating one way, girls in the outer, rotating the other. She’d blow a whistle, the circles would stop, and you’d dance with the person across from you.

“Great,” Cassidy pouted. “What are my chances?”

“They’d be one hundred percent if you’d ask him,” Madison said as they formed a circle around the boys.

“Fifty-fifty at best. Did you see who he’s been dancing with?”

The music started and the circles spun. The disco ball flashed faint white specks around the room that was barely dimmer than during gym class. The circle went faster, the girls tugging and laughing. The boys were already spinning out of control in the other direction. Michael tugged her hair as he went by, and he was gone before she could retaliate.

A whistle blew. The circles halted.

Madison’s laugh evaporated and her smile faded. Beckett O’Reilly stood opposite her. She hadn’t even seen him tonight. He didn’t attend things like this—few seniors did.

He stared back with his unfathomable expression.

“Lucky!” someone whispered in Madison’s ear before she stepped toward her partner.

On her other side, Cassidy paired up with a tall, lanky freshman.

BOOK: Barefoot Summer
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