Up to the Challenge (An Anchor Island Novel) (9 page)

BOOK: Up to the Challenge (An Anchor Island Novel)
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“I guess that’s it.” Joe slipped the box back into his pocket. “Maybe I’ll wait awhile. Give it more time.”

“Don’t do that,” Lucas said.

“What?”

“If you want to wait to make sure you two are ready, then do it. But if you’re waiting for me, don’t bother.”

“I see,” Joe said, his shoulders dropping.

“No, I don’t mean it that way.” Lucas paced the room twice more, then sat down. “I’m not really mad at you. Hell, I’m not even sure if I’m mad.” He left the chair again. “Change that. I’m mad. But some days it’s with you and Beth, and some days it’s with this damn island, but most days I’m pissed at myself.”

Joe rose from his chair and grabbed a couple bar rags off the shelf by the door. “I can’t change what went down. I wouldn’t if I could, though I do wish it had happened differently.”

Off course he wouldn’t. He’d come out the winner once again.

Instead of voicing the callous thought, Lucas nodded and remained silent. Joe was trying to be considerate. Maybe if he’d done that two months ago …

“I’d better get out there. You want to take my Jeep?” Joe asked, holding out his keys. “I can ride home with Beth. I meant to offer last night.”

That’s when Lucas remembered Sid was waiting for him. “No, Sid’s taking me home.”

Joe put the keys back in his pocket. “Right.” He started to leave the office, then turned back. “About Sid.”

Lucas tensed. “What about her?”

“Just … be careful.”

“Why? Are you claiming her too?”

Joe leaned against the door frame. “I’ll give you a pass on that one. For now.”

He’d been out of line and he knew it. Damn temper. “Then why do I need to be careful around Sid?” Lucas asked, trying to change the tone between them. “Is she as violent as she seems?”

“No,” Joe said, without hesitation. “She’s not nearly as tough as she acts, but if you tell her I said that, I’ll kick your ass.”

Lucas couldn’t help but smile as Joe walked away, marveling at the power Sid Navarro seemed to wield over everyone on the island.

Why’d you take me up on the ride this time?” Sid asked. They’d driven less than half a mile in silence. After his talk with Joe, Lucas was hoping the silence would hold.

“Honestly?”

Sid looked over. “Why would I ask a question and then want you to lie?”

“Right.” This woman was entirely too literal. “I’m tired.”

Her eyes returned to the road and she nodded. “I can relate. I’ve helped out on weekends but that was nothing compared to the last two days. How the fuck do your parents do this?”

Lucas didn’t consider himself a prude, but the vulgar language from the delicate looking, if not sounding, package to his left took him off balance.

“Do you always talk like that?”

“Like what?”

“Dropping the F-bomb like that?”

The truck sped up and then zipped around a tourist on a bicycle. “Why? Do I offend your delicate sensibilities?”

Was she ever not defensive? “I’m not offended. Just curious.” Soaring oaks flowed past his window, their heavy limbs trailing the roof of the truck cab. He’d missed those old trees, though he hadn’t realized it until just now.

Sid was quiet for nearly a minute, then she said, “I grew up with men. I work with men. I guess I talk like a man.” The statements were made with no apology or regret, but he noticed her white-knuckled grip on the wheel. She wasn’t comfortable with this line of questioning, but she wasn’t fighting him either.

“Do you
want
to talk like a man? And for the record, not every man talks like that.”

“You saying you don’t curse?”

“I curse. But you can’t throw profanity around a courtroom so you learn to keep it in check.” His first year out of law school, Lucas had made the mistake of dropping a four-letter word in court and nearly found himself in judges’ chambers. He never did it again.

Sid’s grip on the wheel loosened. “That makes sense.” She fell silent again and Lucas returned to watching the old oaks mingle with a cedar here and there.

“No,” she said, sometime later.

“No, what?”

Caramel eyes darted his way, then back to the road. “I don’t want to talk like a man.”

He didn’t know what to say to that so he changed the subject. “Where can I get good, homemade sweets around here?”

If the change of topic threw her off, Sid didn’t show it. “I know just the place.” The wheel jerked left, sending the truck in a tight U-turn in the middle of the street.

Lucas braced one arm on the door and another on the ceiling above him. “What the hell are you doing?” Besides trying to kill him. Maybe this is what Joe was talking about.

“Getting you sweets.”

“This road makes a circle around the damn island. Why the fuck couldn’t we go around?”

Sid tsked. “Such ugly language.”

“I’m less restrained when I’m about to be thrown out of a moving vehicle.”

“If I wanted you out of the truck, I’d have shoved your door open before making the turn.”

Jokes. Now she decided to be funny.

“Where are you taking me?” he asked, straightening in his seat, but keeping a hand on the door handle. Just in case. “It better be worth the whiplash.”

Their eyes met and she gave him a wink. “Trust me.”

“After that stunt? I don’t think so.” Though the wink was actually kind of cute. And the relaxed smile that went with it. When Sid dropped the ass-kicker routine, he thought she might be fun to hang out with. Too bad she didn’t drop the act often.

CHAPTER EIGHT

M
inutes later, Sid parked the truck in front of a tiny white building with baby blue shutters. The entrance sat off to the right, while brightly colored rockers occupied the left end of the covered porch. From the eaves hung a sign reading
Sweet Opal’s Bakery & Confections
.

“I don’t remember this place,” Lucas said as he climbed from the cab. The mouthwatering scent in the air made him forget his near brush with death.

“Hasn’t been here long, but if you came home more often, you’d know there are lots of new businesses on the island.”

The scent grew stronger as he followed Sid up two steps onto the porch. This had to be what heaven smelled like.

“I don’t care about other businesses right now,” Lucas said. A teenager exited the building carrying something that resembled a tart. He nearly followed her to the parking lot. “I’m too busy smelling this one.”

“You always did have a sweet tooth,” Sid said, gaining his attention again.

“How do you know that?”

She pushed through the door, setting off chimes to mark their entrance. “I’ve known you since high school.
One year at Joe’s birthday party you nearly punched him when you thought he’d spit on the cake while blowing out the candles.”

He didn’t remember her being there. “Mom worked on that cake all day. Would have been rude to spit on it.” And a waste of a perfectly good cake.

“Right.” Sid’s throaty laugh hit Lucas somewhere below the belt. Had to be the sugary wonder floating in the air.

Sliding up to the counter, Lucas spotted the very food he’d been craving since waking up that morning. “Is that Key lime pie?” he asked, pointing to a meringue-covered confection on the top shelf of the display case.

“Best on the Eastern Seaboard.” Sid stuck two fingers in her mouth and let out a whistle that threatened to split his eardrums. “We need some service out here!” she yelled.

A heavyset woman with bright blue eyes, white hair, and wearing a pink apron that read “Be nice and I’ll let you lick the beaters” stepped through the doorway. She looked pissed. If Sid got them kicked out before he got his pie, he’d never forgive her.

He whispered to Sid. “Ruin this for me and I’ll key your truck.”

As if he hadn’t spoken, and the apron lady didn’t look mad enough to ban them both for life, Sid said, “Roll your ass out here, woman. We’re paying customers.”

Lucas closed his eyes and said good-bye to his Key lime dream. When he opened them again, the older woman was charging around the end of the counter.

When she reached Sid, her arms went wide. “Where have you been for the last few days, darling? I was getting worried.”

Sid stepped into the bear hug like she’d been doing it her whole life. He hadn’t seen her touch anyone in the two and a half days he’d spent with her. When he’d touched one strand of hair that night in the truck, she’d turned into an ice queen.

He could not figure her out.

Once the hug ended, Sid stepped back. “I’m covering over at Dempsey’s since Tom had the heart attack.”

The woman’s blue eyes filled with concern. “I heard about that. Is he okay? Such a lovely man. And Patty too. They’ve been so good to me.”

The praise didn’t surprise Lucas. His parents had been ambassadors for the island almost since the day they arrived. “Dad is doing well, thanks.” When the woman turned to him as if just noticing his presence, he stretched out a hand. “Lucas Dempsey. Helping out with the business while Dad recovers.”

“Opal,” the older woman said, taking his hand. “Are you that fancy lawyer everyone is always talking about?”

Lucas looked down to his beer-stained khakis and worn tennis shoes. “I don’t know about fancy, but yes, I’m the lawyer.”

She switched focus back to Sid. “You never told me what a cutie he is. Hubba, hubba.”

No one had ever used such terms in reference to him, at least not in his presence. Lucas felt the blush rise and also felt like an idiot.

Taking Sid’s hands, Opal pulled her around the counter. “I made your favorite cupcakes today. Put one aside in the hopes you might stop by.” Addressing Lucas, she asked, “And what can I get for you, sweet cheeks?”

He’d called Sid that name a day ago and she’d threatened his manhood. Now he knew why. “A piece of Key lime pie, please.”

Opal’s eyes danced. “Good choice.” Then she disappeared into the kitchen.

Nodding toward the seating area behind him, Sid grinned. “Grab us a table, sweet cheeks.” She escaped into the kitchen before he could think of a good comeback, though truth be told, he had that one coming.

Seeing Lucas red-faced and uncomfortable was adequate retribution for him questioning Sid’s language during the ride over. He hadn’t really judged her on it. Hadn’t called her a name or talked down to her. His question sounded more like curiosity than condemnation.

Beth, who liked to call herself Sid’s fairy godmother, had been trying to clean up her language almost since they’d met. Curly, as Sid preferred to call her, gave orders like
be nice
and
smile more
and
keep the cursing to a minimum
.

Sid ignored all orders, though she’d been trying the
be nice
stuff on Old Man Fisher with little success. That man needed an enema and a happy pill before he’d soften up. She’d even smiled at him once, even put her heart in it. But still. Nothing.

So what if she cursed like the proverbial sailor? For as much time as she spent on the water, she might as well be one. None of the guys at the dock seemed to mind. Randy made her keep it down at the gym, but only so she wouldn’t offend the skinny female tourists as they fast-walked the
treadmills. Heaven forbid they overindulge on vacation and go home three pounds heavier.

One might say the thought was hypocritical since Sid ran every morning and lifted weights several times a week. But she ran because she enjoyed it, and lifting engines required muscle. Muscle required weights.

Carrying the Key lime pie Opal had sent out for Lucas felt like lifting weights. He’d never be able to eat the entire piece.

“About time you came back,” Lucas said. “I was three seconds away from ripping into the sugar packets.”

“Opal couldn’t decide how big a piece to cut. As you can see, she went with one as big as the damn ferry.”

Lucas’s eyes widened as she set the plate on the table. “Is that a piece or half a pie?”

Sid set her own cupcake down and took a seat. “Opal’s pie pans could double as hubcaps for my truck. That’s a piece.”

Still eyeing the Key lime, Lucas lifted a fork, looking unsure how to proceed. With anything Opal made, the best plan was to go in close to the point. Even then, the height of the creation made getting the bite in cleanly damn near impossible.

BOOK: Up to the Challenge (An Anchor Island Novel)
11.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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