Love At The Shore Page 9

  When he won the next point, he showboated a little, bowing to the spectators. Tank let out a howl. Lucas couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun playing volleyball. He also couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on the losing side of the net.

  She wasn’t actually going to beat him, was she?

  Miss Team Captain called out to him, all business. “Nine all. Match point.”

  The volley that followed was their longest back-and-forth yet. Lucas gave it his all, but in the end, he ended up flat on his back in the sand.

  The ball bounced past him, and Jenna fist-pumped like she’d just won gold at the Olympics. “Yes!”

  She’d won fair and square. Lucas wasn’t even mad about it. More than anything, he was impressed.

  And maybe just a little bit captivated.

  Seeing Jenna so happy and carefree made him overly aware of his own heartbeat. His mouth went dry, and he wasn’t altogether convinced it had anything to do with exerting himself for the past half hour.

  Ally and Nick ran toward Jenna, and she scooped them off of their feet and into her arms. Tank yipped and ran circles around them. Lucas might as well have been invisible to his own dog.

  He peeled himself off the ground as his friends offered him consolatory pats on the back. People were talking to him, but he barely heard a word. All of his attention was focused on the victor, smiling from ear to ear on the other side of the court.

  “I guess we’ve got a new rule,” she said as he bent to cross under the net.

  “I guess so.” No more music past nine o’clock. What was he supposed to do at night now instead of practicing his guitar? Sip chamomile tea on the patio and watch the moon shimmer over the ocean?

  That sounded kind of nice, actually. Although it would have been nicer without a barrier keeping him away from his neighbor, who suddenly seemed full of surprises.

  He raked a hand through his hair and came away with a fistful of sand.

  Smooth. Real smooth.

  Why was he nervous all of a sudden? It wasn’t like he wanted to impress her.

  “Good game, man.” She flashed him one last grin and threw an arm around each of her kids. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Nick beamed at her. “Great job.”

  “Thanks. I had my good-luck charms.” Jenna gave Ally and Nick’s shoulders a squeeze as they made their way toward the beach house.

  Lucas watched them until they disappeared over the dunes, and even though he was still surrounded by friends, he noticed a twinge of something that felt almost like sadness deep in his chest. It wasn’t until he thought about Jenna’s crazy fence again that he recognized the feeling for what it was.

  Loneliness.

  Chapter Seven

  The following morning, Lucas pulled his Jeep into a small parking lot off Main Street, climbed out and held the door open for Tank. The pup hopped down from the driver’s seat and trotted to the front door of Lucas’s favorite island bookshop. Lucas being a creature of habit, Tank knew the drill. He let out a squeaky dog yawn as he waited patiently for Lucas to catch up with him.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting.” Lucas scratched him gently behind his ears.

  Tank’s tail wagged, beating the backs of Lucas’s leg when he pulled the door open.

  “Good boy, bud,” he said.

  Tank loved coming on errands. He especially loved the bookshop because it was a newsstand, book store and coffee shop all in one. During the winter months—when All the tourists went back to their regular year-round lives and Tybee all but shut down—Lucas liked to spend long mornings here, drinking coffee with his head in a book and Tank curled at his feet.

  Bells chimed on the door as they entered, announcing their arrival. Sandy, the full-time bookshop owner and newbie barista, looked up and greeted them with a smile.

  “Lucas, hi!” Her gaze shifted lower. “And hello there, Mr. Tank. Can I interest you in a doggie treat?”

  Tank bolted from Lucas’s side, gently plucked a sizable bone-shaped biscuit from Sandy’s fingertips and dragged it to the fiction section.

  “Would you like some coffee?” Sandy ran a dishrag over her pristine espresso machine. “A latte or cappuccino perhaps?”

  Lucas glanced around the quiet shop. During the summertime, late mornings like this one were pretty quiet while families hit the beach. In the early dawn hours, it was the busiest place on the island’s south end.

  “Who’s manning the machine?” He nodded toward the fancy piece of equipment.

  Sandy had been so proud to have it installed. She vowed it would “elevate the coffee scene” on Tybee, and she’d been right. The only trouble was that she still hadn’t mastered its fancy operating system. So long as one of her part-time baristas was on the scene, everything was fine. But with Sandy at the controls, plain coffee was definitely the best option.

  “It’s all me today. I sent Josh home about a half hour ago.” She flipped a switch on the espresso machine and steam came out of one of its openings.

  Odds were it was the wrong one, but Lucas didn’t want to hurt her feelings. He pasted on a smile. “A cappuccino sounds great.”

  Sandy’s face lit up, and Lucas couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been the first taker in the fancy coffee department since Josh had left. “Coming right up.”

  “Thanks.” He glanced at the sludge coming out of the machine and promptly averted his gaze. “Listen, I was wondering if you could help me with something else.”

  “Anything.” The older woman nodded. “Although, if you’re looking for surf magazines, I’m plum out. I can hardly keep them in stock this time of year.”

  “No, thanks. I’m good.” He cleared his throat and looked around, just in case Jenna or one of her kids happened to be lurking behind a bookshelf somewhere. That Ally, in particular, was a stealthy one. “I’m looking for a book.”

  “Any book in particular?”

  He nodded. “Yes, a young adult fiction book by an author named Jenna Turner? I’m not sure what it’s called, but I think it’s the first book in a series.”

  Curiosity had gotten the best of Lucas, and he’d Googled Jenna after their fateful volleyball match. He couldn’t help it. Her ace volleyball skills had him searching for information about her sports background, but as soon as he’d typed her name into the search engine, dozens of hits popped up about her literary career. Apparently, her debut book had been a smash hit. Book bloggers and readers were anxiously awaiting her sequel, which he assumed must be the book she spent all her spare hours working on back at the house.

  He wasn’t sure what had compelled him to make the trip down here in search of her first book. Logic told him he simply wanted to give it a read because it had garnered such praise online. But he was beginning to realize that logic didn’t come into play much where his feelings for Jenna were concerned. Not that he had feelings for her, per se. Of course he didn’t. She was impossible with a capital I.

  At the same time, he wanted to know more about her. He was particularly curious about her writing. Until he’d stumbled upon all the articles about her book, he’d honestly assumed she’d been joking when she told him she wrote teen fiction. Weren’t fiction writers supposed to have artistic temperaments? Obviously not. Judging by her personality, he would have guessed she wrote textbooks. Or computer manuals, maybe.

  “Oh, of course we have that one.” Sandy pushed a giant cup of steaming something that in no way resembled a cappuccino across the counter toward him. “That author’s book was a bestseller, hugely popular with the tween crowd. The sequel is supposed to come out next year sometime. You just enjoy your coffee while I go find it for you.”

  A smile tugged at Lucas’s lips. So Jenna was a well-known, bestselling author? Well, how about that.

  The “cappuccino” was predictably terrible, but he dutifully choked it down while Sa
ndy stepped over Tank and searched the shelves for Jenna’s name. Relief washed over him when she located the book and carried it back to the counter.

  “Found it.” She handed it to him and took her place behind the cash register. “Anything else I can get you?”

  He clutched the book to his chest with one hand and dug out his wallet from his pocket with the other. “No, this is it for now. But thank you.”

  Sandy ran his debit card and handed it back to him. “I have to say, I can’t remember you reading YA before. Usually it’s surf magazines, local history or books about nature. Why the sudden interest in the fantastical adventures of a teen sailor?”

  Tank looked up from his biscuit, ears pricked forward. He could be a nosy little thing.

  Lucas glanced down at the book and flipped it over in his hand. Jenna’s photo looked up at him from the back of the dust jacket.

  “I guess sometimes tastes change,” he said by way of explanation.

  So much for logic.

  Much to Jenna’s relief, Lucas was true to his word and honored the results of their wager. There wasn’t a volleyball in sight after she dropped off Nick and Ally at summer camp the following morning. Lucas’s Jeep wasn’t parked in its usual spot in the driveway, but he pulled up in the drive shortly after she got back and slipped quietly into his side of the house with Tank trotting happily behind him.

  The scene on the opposite side of the fence had been strangely silent ever since—not that Jenna was complaining. She simply wondered what Lucas was up to, and then she reminded herself it was none of her business. She needed to take advantage of the peace and quiet while it lasted. The view off the duplex was as tranquil as a beach sounds relaxation app.

  Strong cup of coffee in hand, Jenna tucked herself into one of the Adirondack chairs on the lower level of the patio and got to work. She pored over the pages she’d written so far and tried her best to come up with the perfect ending to her book. Despite the soothing surroundings, it just wasn’t happening.

  What was she going to do?

  Maybe I should just make the main character get lost at sea. The End. Then I wouldn’t have to figure out how to deal with any of these plot holes.

  Somehow she didn’t think that would appeal to readers. Plus it felt like cheating. Also, she needed to earn her advance, so setting metaphorical fire to her book and walking away wasn’t an option. There had to be a way to end her story with a shiny red bow that would make everyone happy—her readers, her editor and most of all, her publisher, Stan. Because if Stan wasn’t happy, her newly successful career as an author just might be over.

  She stared so hard at the typewritten pages, willing an ending to materialize, that she almost didn’t hear her cell phone’s ringtone as it chimed from somewhere beneath her pile of papers and writing books.

  “Shoot, shoot, shoot! Where are you?” Coffee cup abandoned, she dug around until she found the phone buried beneath a throw pillow decorated with sea turtles. “Gotcha.”

  A knot of dread formed in the pit of her stomach as she peered at the name on the tiny screen: Stan.

  Oh, boy.

  Could his timing be any worse? Yes. Yes, it could, because just as she was about to answer the call, Lucas appeared mere feet away on the opposite side of the fence.

  She nearly dropped the phone. “Oh, wow. You’re always right there, aren’t you?”

  He shrugged one shoulder. “I suppose you could’ve built a higher fence.”

  Touché. “Believe me, I thought about it.”

  She couldn’t have this conversation with Lucas so nearby. He was so…distracting. Surely he’d leave once she answered the phone.

  “Hello?” She swallowed. Stan said something, and Jenna was only vaguely aware of what it was. Lucas still stood there on the other side of the fence. Why wasn’t he going anywhere?

  She darted toward the staircase. “Hi, how are you? Yeah, I’m just running upstairs.”

  As she fled, Stan asked if she was just about finished with her manuscript.

  Jenna nodded. “Am I almost done with the draft? Absolutely. It’s practically writing itself.”

  Except for one minor detail—the ending.

  Luckily, he didn’t press for more information. Instead, he launched into a detailed explanation of the publicity plan for her upcoming book. The marketing department was so convinced it would be a huge hit that her initial print run would be nearly double the size of the first printing of her debut book. She should’ve been thrilled. Every author dreamed of this kind of support, but as happy as the news made her, it also made her deadline feel more pressing than ever.

  Only three more weeks!

  Guilt tugged at Jenna’s conscience as Stan began to heap praise on her, but then she stopped listening to him because she caught sight of Lucas down below, leaning against the fence and reading a stack of papers that looked an awful lot like her manuscript. She froze.

  No.

  He wouldn’t.

  But, oh yes. He would.

  Her gaze darted to the arm of her Adirondack chair, and sure enough, her pages were no longer where she’d left them. She aimed her fiercest glare at Lucas, which he didn’t notice at all. Instead, to her complete and utter horror, he picked up her red pen and began making notes in the margins of her manuscript.

  What. In. The. World.

  “Hey. Hey, hey!” Jenna leaned over the balcony, waving frantically at him. He ignored her, but of course Stan thought she was talking to him. “What? No, sorry. I was just saying hey, I should probably finish that ending.”

  She managed to get off the phone as quickly as she could. “Excellent, bye.”

  Excellent? What a joke. Nothing was excellent—not her non-existent ending and certainly not the fact that Lucas was downstairs critiquing her manuscript. It wasn’t ready for anyone to see yet. She hadn’t even let her kids read it, much less a perfect stranger.

  Although Lucas wasn’t exactly a stranger anymore, was he? He was almost beginning to feel like a friend…

  Or at least he had been until he’d stolen her pages.

  “Would you stop reading that?” She flew down the stairs and lunged across the white picket fence, but he gathered the manuscript close to his chest and leapt out of reach.

  “I have to admit, I really love this Jasmine character. But this yachtsman, he’s a little stiff for my taste.” He made another red mark in the margin.

  Unbelievable. “Are you seriously giving me notes right now?”

  “What? A surfer can’t have a literary opinion?” He frowned as if he was the injured party.

  “I didn’t say that,” she countered.

  He pointed at her with the pen. “Yes, but you thought it.”

  Okay, so maybe she had. But it wasn’t as if she’d seen any bookshelves in his bachelor pad on the one occasion she’d ventured across the fence.

  Besides, he was the one in the wrong here. It wasn’t even a contest. “And you thought it was okay to just reach over and grab it?”

  “All I’m saying is that the sailors I know are just normal people who love sailing.” He gestured to her typewritten words, which were beginning to seem more and more ridiculous the more Lucas spoke. “They don’t run around wearing brass buttoned jackets and ridiculous…”

  She did not need this right now. Her confidence was shaky enough as it was.

  “Okay, we’re done here.” She snatched the pages from his hands. “Thank you very much.”

  “Besides that mess of a character, I think you’ve got yourself a really good story.” He leaned against the picket fence and grinned at her.

  How was it possible for someone to be so incredibly frustrating and yet charming at the same time? It was a lethal combination.

  She scowled at him. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

  “What? I’m giving yo
u a compliment.” His dimples flashed, and Jenna thought about reaching across the fence to strangle him.

  Instead, she turned on her heel and walked away. Why hadn’t she seen this coming? He’d been arrogant from the start, which is exactly why she’d built the fence to begin with. Yet somehow, she’d actually started to like him, despite her every effort not to.

  “You’re welcome,” he called after her.

  She turned to glare at him one last time, but her heart gave a foolish tug at the sight of those dimples again.

  And that’s when Jenna realized just how much trouble she was in where Lucas McKinnon was concerned.

  Jenna stomped through the sand on her afternoon beach walk with Maureen the next day, brimming with furious adrenaline.

  The more she thought about Lucas reading her manuscript without her permission, the angrier she got. Who did he think he was, with his darling dog and his flirty dimples and his literal boy-next-door charm? Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t dislike him quite as much as she had when they’d first moved into the duplex, but did that give him the right to pore over her pages?

  No, it did not.

  He’d even made red notes all over the margins. It was a first draft. First drafts were always sort of terrible, which was exactly why she hadn’t let anyone look at it yet.

  The worst thing about his scribbled red notes—the very worst thing—was that his comments were surprisingly insightful. He’d honed in on all the problem areas, and after going through his notes, she’d actually come up with a kernel of an idea for an ending. At last.

  If it had been anyone else, she might have been thrilled, perhaps even grateful. But it hadn’t been anyone else. It had been him.

  “It’s like a total invasion of privacy, am I right?” She threw her arms in the air and waited for Maureen to agree with her, but her friend suddenly wasn’t walking beside her anymore.

  “Do you think you could slow down?” Maureen said.

  “That’s the problem, I can’t. Not even a little bit because I’m already like fifty pages behind, and my neighbor is so not helping. At all.” Jenna’s tongue was moving even faster than her footsteps.