Читать книгу One Unforgettable Summer - Kandy Shepherd - Страница 10
ОглавлениеSANDY WAS HALFWAY up the stairs, determined to beat Ben to the top. Slightly out of breath, she couldn’t help smiling to herself over the fact that Ben had remembered her birthday. Hmm... Should she be reading something into that?
And then Kate was there, with her worried expression and urgent words, and the smile froze on Sandy’s face.
She immediately looked to Ben. Her heart seemed to miss a beat as his face went rigid, every trace of laughter extinguished.
‘What happened?’ he demanded of the red-haired waitress.
‘She fell—’
‘Tap-dancing? Or playing tennis?’
Kate’s face was pale under her freckles. ‘Neither. Ida fell moving a pile of books. You know what she’s like. Pretends she’s thirty-five, not seventy-five—’
Ida? A seventy-five-year-old tap-dancing aunt? Sandy vaguely remembered Ben all those years ago talking about an aunt—a great-aunt?—he’d adored.
‘Where is she?’ Ben growled, oblivious to the rain falling down on him in slow, heavy drops, slicking his hair, dampening his shirt so it clung to his back and shoulders, defining his powerful muscles.
‘In the ambulance in front of her bookshop,’ said Kate. ‘Better hurry. I’ll tell the staff where you are, then join you—’
Before Kate had finished speaking, Ben had turned on his heel and headed around to the side of the hotel with the long, athletic strides Sandy had always had trouble keeping up with.
‘Ben!’ Sandy called after him, then forced herself to stop. Wasn’t this her cue to cut out? As in, Goodbye, Ben, it was cool to catch up with you. Best of luck with everything. See ya.
That would be the sensible option. And Sandy, the practical list-maker, might be advised to take it. Sandy, who was on her way to Melbourne and a new career. A new life.
But this was about Ben.
Ben, with his scarred hands and scarred heart.
Ben, who might need some support.
Whether he wanted it or not.
‘I’m coming with you,’ she called after him, all thoughts of her thirtieth birthday lunch put on hold.
Quickly she fastened the buckles on her sandals. Wished for a moment that she had an umbrella. But she didn’t really care about getting wet. She just wanted to be with Ben.
She’d never met a more masculine man, but the tragedy he had suffered gave him a vulnerability she could not ignore. Was he in danger of losing someone else he loved? It was an unbearable thought.
‘Ben! Wait for me!’ she called.
He turned and glanced back at her, but made no comment as she caught up with him. Good, so he didn’t mind her tagging along.
His hand brushed hers as they strode along together. She longed to take it and squeeze it reassuringly but didn’t dare. Touching wasn’t on the agenda. Not any more.
Within minutes they’d reached the row of new shops that ran down from the side of the hotel.
There was an ambulance parked on the footpath out of the rain, under the awning in front of a shop named Bay Books. When she’d driven past she’d admired it because of its charming doorframe, carved with frolicking dolphins. Who’d have thought she’d next be looking at it under circumstances like this?
A slight, elderly lady with cropped silver hair lay propped up on a gurney in front of the open ambulance doors.
This was Great-Aunt Ida?
Sandy scoured her memories. Twelve years ago she’d been so in love with Ben she’d lapped up any detail about his family, anything that concerned him. Wasn’t there a story connected to Ida? Something the family had had to live down?
Ben was instantly by his aunt’s side. ‘Idy, what have you done to yourself this time?’ he scolded, in a stern but loving voice.
He gripped Ida’s fragile gnarled hand with his much bigger, scarred one. Sandy caught her breath at the look of exasperated tenderness on his face. Remembered how caring he’d been to the people he loved. How protective he’d been of her when she was eighteen.
Back then she’d been so scared of the big waves. Every day Ben had coaxed her a little further from the shore, building her confidence with his reassuring presence. On the day she’d finally caught a wave and ridden her body-board all the way in to shore, squealing and laughing at the exhilaration of it, she’d looked back to see he had arranged an escort of his brother and his best mates—all riding the same break. What kind of guy would do that? She’d never met one since, that was for sure.
‘Cracked my darn pelvis, they think. I tripped, that’s all.’ Ida’s face was contorted with annoyance as much as with pain.
Ben whipped around to face the ambulance officer standing by his aunt. ‘Then why isn’t she in the hospital?’
‘Point-blank refused to let me take her. Insisted on seeing you first,’ the paramedic said with raised eyebrows and admirable restraint, considering the way Ben was glaring at him. ‘Tried to get her to call you from hospital but she wasn’t budging.’
‘That’s right,’ said Ben’s aunt in a surprisingly strong voice. ‘I’m not going anywhere until my favourite great-nephew promises to look after my shop.’
‘Absolutely,’ said Ben, without a second’s hesitation. ‘I’ll lock it up safely. Now, c’mon, let’s get you in the ambulance and—’
His aunt Ida tried to rise from the gurney. ‘That’s not what I meant. That’s not good enough—’ she said, before her words were cut short by a little whimper of pain.
Sandy shifted from sodden sandal to sodden sandal. Looked away to the intricately carved awning. She felt like an interloper, an uninvited witness to Ben’s intimate family drama. Why hadn’t she stayed at the beach?
‘Don’t worry about the shop,’ said Ben, his voice burred with worry. ‘I’ll sort something out for you. Let’s just get you to the hospital.’
‘It’s not life or death,’ said the paramedic, ‘but, yes, she should be on her way.’
Ida closed her eyes briefly and Sandy’s heart lurched at the weariness that crossed her face. Please let her be all right—for Ben’s sake.
But then the older lady’s eyes snapped into life again. They were the same blue as Ben’s and remarkably unfaded. ‘I can’t leave my shop closed for all that time.’
The paramedic interrupted. ‘She might have to lie still in bed for weeks.’
‘That’s not acceptable,’ continued the formidable Ida. ‘You’ll have to find me a manager. Keep my business going.’
‘Just get to the ER and I’ll do something about that later,’ said Ben.
‘Not later. Now,’ said Aunt Ida, sounding nothing like a little old lady lying seriously injured on a gurney. Maybe she was pumped full of painkillers.
Sandy struggled to suppress a grin. For all his tough, grown-up ways she could still see the nineteen-year-old Ben. He was obviously aching to bundle his feisty aunt into the ambulance but was too respectful to try it.
Aunt Ida’s eyes sought out Kate, who was now standing next to Sandy. ‘Kate? Can you—?’
Kate shook her head regretfully. ‘No can do, I’m afraid.’
‘She’s needed at the hotel. We’re short-staffed,’ said Ben, with an edge of impatience to his voice.
Ida’s piercing blue gaze turned to Sandy. ‘What about you?’
‘Me?’ Was the old lady serious? Or delirious?
Before Sandy could stutter out anything more, Kate had turned to face her.
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Yes. What about you, Sandy? Are you on holiday? Could you help out?’
‘What? No. Sorry. I’m on my way to Melbourne.’ She was so aghast she was gabbling. ‘I’m afraid I won’t be able to—’
‘Friend of Kate’s, are you?’ persisted the old lady, in a voice that in spite of her obvious efforts was beginning to tire.
Compelled by good manners, Sandy took a step forward. ‘No. Yes. Kind of... I—’
She looked imploringly at Ben, uncertain of what to say, not wanting to make an already difficult situation worse.
‘Sandy’s an...an old friend of mine,’ he said, stumbling on the word friend. ‘Just passing through.’
‘Oh,’ said the older lady, ‘so she can’t help out. And I can’t afford to lose even a day’s business.’
Her face seemed to collapse and she looked every minute of her seventy-five years.
Suddenly she reminded Sandy of her grandmother—her mother’s mother. How would she feel if Grandma were stuck in a situation like this?
‘I’m sorry,’ she said reluctantly.
‘Pity.’ Ida sighed. ‘You look nice. Intelligent. The kind of person I could trust with my shop.’ Wearily she closed her eyes again. ‘Find me someone like her, Ben.’
Her voice was beginning to waver. Sandy could barely hear it over the sound of the rain drumming on the awning overhead.
Ben looked from Sandy to his aunt and then back to Sandy again, his eyes unreadable. ‘Maybe...maybe Sandy can be convinced to stay for a few days,’ he said.
Huh? Sandy stared at him. ‘But, Ben, I—’
Ben held her with his glance, his blue eyes intense. He leaned closer to her. ‘Just play along with me and say yes so I can get her to go to the hospital,’ he muttered from the side of his mouth.
‘Oh.’ She paused. Thought for a moment. Thought again. ‘Okay. I’ll look after the shop. Just for a few days. Until you get someone else.’
‘You promise?’ asked Ida.
Promise? Like a cross-your-heart-and-hope-to-die-type promise? The kind of promise she never went back on?
Disconcerted, Sandy nodded. ‘I promise.’
What crazy impulse had made her come out with that? Wanting to please Ben?
Or maybe it was the thought of what she would have liked to happen if it was her grandmother, injured, in pain, and having to beg a stranger to help her.
Ida’s eyes connected with hers. ‘Thank you. Come and see me in the hospital,’ she said, before relaxing with a sigh back onto the gurney.
‘Right. That’s settled.’ Ben slapped the side of the ambulance, turned to the ambulance officer. ‘I’ll ride in the back with my aunt.’
A frail but imperious hand rose. ‘You show your friend around Bay Books. Settle her in.’
Sandy had to fight a smile as she watched Ben do battle with his great-aunt to let him accompany her to the hospital.
Minutes later she stood by Ben’s side, watching the tail-lights of the ambulance disappear into the rain. Kate was in the back with Ida.
‘Your aunt Ida is quite a lady,’ Sandy said, biting her lip to suppress her grin.
‘You bet,’ said Ben, with a wry smile of his own.
‘Isn’t she the aunt who...?’ She held up her hand. ‘Wait. Let me remember. I know!’ she said triumphantly. ‘The aunt who ran off with an around-the-world sailor?’
Ben’s eyes widened. ‘You remember that? From all that time ago?’
I remember because you—and the family I fantasised about marrying into—were so important to me. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t—couldn’t—put her voice to them. ‘Of course,’ she said instead. ‘Juicy scandals tend to stick in my mind.’
‘It was a scandal. For these parts anyway. She was the town spinster, thirty-five and unmarried.’
‘Spinster? Ouch! What an awful word.’ She giggled. ‘Hey, I’m thirty and unmarried. Does that make me—’ she made quotation marks in the air with her fingers ‘—a spinster?’
‘As if,’ Ben said with a grin. ‘Try career woman about town—isn’t that more up to date?’
‘Sounds better. But the message is the same.’ She pulled a mock glum face.
Ben stilled, and suddenly he wasn’t joking. He looked into her face for a long, intense minute. An emotion she didn’t recognise flashed through his eyes and then was gone.
‘That boyfriend of yours was an idiot,’ he said gruffly.
He lifted a hand as if he was about to touch her, maybe run his finger down her cheek to her mouth like he’d used to.
She tensed, waiting, not sure if she wanted him to or not. Awareness hung between them like the shimmer off the sea on a thirty-eight-degree day.
He moved a step closer. So close she could clearly see that sexy scar on his mouth. She wondered how it would feel if he kissed her...if he took her in his arms...
Her heart began to hammer in her chest so violently surely he must hear it. Her mouth went suddenly dry.
But then, abruptly, he dropped his hand back by his side, stepped away. ‘He didn’t deserve you,’ he said, in a huskier-than-ever voice.
She breathed out, not realising she had been holding her breath. Not knowing whether to feel disappointed or relieved that there was now a safe, non-kissing zone between her and the man she’d once loved.
She cleared her throat, disconcerted by the certain knowledge that if Ben had kissed her she wouldn’t have pushed him away. No. She would have swayed closer and...
She took a steadying breath. ‘Yeah. Well... I...I’m better off without him. And soon I’ll be living so far away it won’t matter one little bit that he chose his mega-wealthy boss’s daughter over me.’
She wouldn’t take cheating Jason back in a million years. But sometimes it was difficult to keep up the bravado, mask the pain of the way he’d treated her. It was a particular kind of heartbreak to be presented with a fait accompli and no opportunity to make things right. It made it very difficult for her to risk her heart again.
‘Still hurts, huh?’ Ben said, obviously not fooled by her words.
She remembered how he’d used to tease her about her feelings always showing on her face.
She shook her head. After a lacklustre love life she’d thought she’d got things right with Jason. But she wasn’t going to admit to Ben that Jason had proved to be another disappointment.
‘You talk the talk, Sandy,’ Jason had said. ‘But you always held back, were never really there for me.’
She couldn’t see the truth in that—would never have committed to living with Jason if she hadn’t believed she loved him. If she hadn’t believed he would change his mind about marriage.
‘Only my pride was hurt,’ she said now to Ben. ‘Things between us weren’t right for a long time. I wasn’t happy, and he obviously wasn’t either. It had to end somehow....’ She took a deep breath. ‘And here I am, making a fresh start.’ She nodded decisively. ‘Now, that’s enough about me. Tell me more about your aunt Ida.’
‘Sure,’ he said, glad for the change in subject. ‘Ida got married to her wayfaring sailor on some exotic island somewhere and sailed around the world with him on his yacht until he died. Then she came back here and started the bookshop—first at the other end of town and now in the row of new shops I built.’
‘So you’re her landlord?’
‘The other guy was ripping her off on her rent.’
And Ben always looked after his own.
Sandy remembered how fiercely protective he’d been of his family. How stubbornly loyal. He would have been just as protective of his wife and son.
No wonder he had gone away when he’d lost them. What had brought him back to Dolphin Bay, with its tragic memories?
He turned to face her, his face composed, no hint from his expression that he might have been about to kiss her just minutes ago.
‘It was good of you to play along with me to make her happy. I just had to get her into that ambulance and on her way. Thank you.’
She shrugged. ‘No problem. I’d like someone to do the same for my grandmother.’
He glanced down at his watch. ‘Now you’d better go have your lunch before they close down the kitchen. Sorry I can’t join you, but—’
‘But what?’ Sandy tilted her head to one side. She put up her hand in a halt sign. ‘Am I missing something here? Aren’t you meant to be showing me the bookshop?’
Ben swivelled back to face her. He frowned. ‘Why would you want to see the bookshop?’
‘Because I’ve volunteered to look after it for your aunt until you find someone else. I promised. Remember? Crossed my heart and—’
He cut across her words. ‘But that wasn’t serious. That was just you playing along with me so she’d go to the hospital. Just a tactic...’
Vehemently, she shook her head. ‘A tactic? No it wasn’t. I meant it, Ben. I said I’d help out for a few days and I keep my word.’
‘But don’t you have an interview in Melbourne?’
‘Not until next Friday, and today’s only Saturday. I was planning on meandering slowly down the coast...’
She thought regretfully of the health spa she’d hoped to check in to for a few days of much needed pampering. Then she thought of the concern in Ida’s eyes.
‘But it’s okay. I’m happy to play bookshop for a while. Really.’
‘There’s no need to stay, Sandy. It won’t be a problem to close the shop for a few days until I find a temporary manager.’
‘That’s not what your aunt thinks,’ she said. ‘Besides, it might be useful for my interview to say I’ve been managing a shop.’ She did the quote thing again with her fingers. ‘“Recent retail experience”—yes, that would look good on my résumé.’ An update on her university holiday jobs working in department stores.
Ben was so tight-lipped he was bordering on grim. ‘Sandy, it’s nice of you, but forget it. I’ll find someone. There are agencies for emergency staff.’
Why was he so reluctant to accept such an easy solution to his aunt’s dilemma? Especially when he’d been the one to suggest it?
It wasn’t fair to blame her for not being aware of his ‘tactic’. And she wasn’t—repeat wasn’t—going to let his lack of enthusiasm at the prospect of her working in the bookshop daunt her.
Slowly, she shook her head from side to side. ‘Ben, I gave my word to your great-aunt and I intend to keep it.’
She looked to the doorway of Bay Books. Forced her voice to sound steady. ‘C’mon, show me around. I’m dying to see inside.’
Ben hesitated. He took a step forward and then stopped. His face reminded her of those storm clouds that had banked up on the horizon.
Sandy sighed out loud. She made her voice mock scolding. ‘Ben, I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes if you have to tell your aunt I skipped out on her.’
His jaw clenched. He looked at her without speaking for a long second. ‘Is that blackmail, Sandy?’
She couldn’t help a smile. ‘Not really. But, like I said, if I make a promise I keep it.’
‘Do you?’ he asked hoarsely.
The smile froze on her face.
Ben stood, his hands clenched by his sides. Was he remembering those passionately sworn promises to keep their love alive even though she was going back to Sydney at the end of her holiday?
Promises she hadn’t kept because she’d never heard from him? And she’d been too young, too scared, to take the initiative herself.
She’d been wrong not to persist in trying to keep in touch with him. Wrong not to have trusted him. Now she could see that. Twelve years too late she could see that.
‘Yes,’ she said abruptly and—unable to face him—turned on her heel. ‘C’mon, I need to check out the displays and you need to show me how to work the register and what to do about special orders and all that kind of stuff.’
She knew she was chattering too quickly, but she had to cover the sudden awkwardness between them.
She braced herself and looked back over her shoulder. Was he just going to stay standing on the footpath, looking so forbidding?
No. With an exhaled sigh that she hoped was more exasperated than angry, he followed her through the door of Bay Books.
* * *
As Ben walked behind Sandy—forcing himself not to be distracted by the sway of her shapely behind—he cursed himself for being such an idiot. His impulsive ploy to placate Idy with a white lie about Sandy staying to help out had backfired badly.
How could he have forgotten just what a thoughtful, generous person Sandy could be? In that way she hadn’t changed since she was eighteen, insisting on helping his mother wash the dishes at the guesthouse even though she’d been a paying guest.
Of course Sandy wouldn’t lie to his great-aunt. He should have realised that. And now here she was, insisting on honouring her ‘promise’.
The trouble was, the last thing he wanted was his old girlfriend in town, reminding him of what he’d once felt for her. What he didn’t want to feel again. Not for her. Not for anyone.
Point-blank, he did not want Sandy helping out at Bay Books. Did not want to be faced by her positive get-up-and-go-for-it attitude, her infectious laugh and—he couldn’t deny it—her lovely face and sexier-than-ever body.
He gritted his teeth and determined not to fall victim to her charm.
But as she moved through the store he couldn’t help but be moved by her unfeigned delight in what some people called his great-aunt’s latest folly.
He saw the familiar surrounds afresh through her eyes—the wooden bookcases with their frolicking dolphin borders, the magnificent carved wooden counter, the round tables covered in heavy fringed cloths and stacked with books both bestsellers and more off-beat choices, the lamps thoughtfully positioned, the exotic carpets, the promotional posters artfully displayed, the popular children’s corner.
‘I love it—I just love it,’ she breathed. ‘This is how a bookshop should be. Small. Intimate. Connected to its customers.’
Reverently, she stroked the smooth wooden surface of the countertop, caressed with slender pink-tipped fingers the intricate carved dolphins that supported each corner.
‘I’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘It’s different, all right. On her travels Aunt Ida became good friends with a family of Balinese woodcarvers. She commissioned them to fit out the shop. Had all this shipped over.’
Sandy looked around her, her eyes huge with wonder. ‘It’s unique. Awesome. No wonder your aunt wants it in safe hands.’
Some people might find the shop too quaint. Old-fashioned in a world of minimalist steel and glass. Redundant at a time of electronic everything. But obviously not Sandy. He might have expected she’d appreciate Aunt Ida’s eccentric creation. Just as she’d loved his family’s old guesthouse.
She twirled around in the space between the counter and a crammed display of travel paperbacks.
‘It even smells wonderful in here. The wood, of course. And that special smell of books. I don’t know what it is—the paper, the binding.’ She closed her eyes and inhaled with a look of ecstasy. ‘I could just breathe it in all day.’
No.
His fists clenched tight by his sides. That was not what he wanted to hear. He didn’t want Sandy to fit back in here to Dolphin Bay as if she’d never left.
He wanted her gone, back on that highway and heading south. Not connecting so intuitively with the magic his great-aunt had tried to create here. Not being part of his life just by her very presence.
How could he bear to have her practically next door? Every day she’d be calling on him to ask advice on how to run the shop. Seeking his help. Needing him.
And he wouldn’t be able to resist helping her. Might even find himself looking in on the off chance that she needed some assistance with Aunt Ida’s oddball accounting methods. Maybe bringing her a coffee from the hotel café. Suggesting they chat about the business over lunch.
That couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t let it happen. He needed his life to stay just the way it was. He didn’t want to invite love into his life again. And with Sandy there would be no second measures.
Sandy threw herself down on the low, overstuffed sofa his aunt provided for customers to sit on and browse through the books, then jumped up again almost straight away. She clasped her hands together, her eyes shining with enthusiasm. ‘It’s perfect. I am so going to enjoy myself here.’
‘It’s only for a few days,’ he warned. ‘I’ll talk to the agency straight away.’ Again his voice was harsher than he’d intended, edged with fear.
She frowned and he winced at the quick flash of hurt in her eyes. She paused. Her voice was several degrees cooler when she replied.
‘I know that, Ben. I’m just helping out until you get a manager. And I’m glad I can, now that I see how much of her heart your aunt has put into her shop.’
Avoiding his eyes, she stepped behind the counter, placed her hands on the countertop and looked around her. Despite his lack of encouragement, there was an eagerness, an excitement about her that he found disconcerting. And way too appealing.
She pressed her lips firmly together. ‘I’ll try not to bother you too much,’ she said. ‘But I’ll need your help with operating the register. Oh, and the computer, too. Is all her inventory in special files?’
He knew he should show some gratitude for her helping out. After all, he’d been the one to make the ill-conceived suggestion that she should stay. But he was finding it difficult when he knew how dangerous it might be to have Sandy around. Until now he’d been keeping everything together in his under-control life. Or so he’d thought.
‘I can show you the register,’ he said grudgingly. ‘The computer—that’s a mystery. But you won’t be needing to operate that. And, besides, it’s only temporary, right?’
‘Yeah. Very temporary—as you keep reminding me.’
This time she met his gaze head-on.
‘But what makes you think I won’t want to do as good a job as I can for your aunt Ida while I’m here? You heard what she said about needing every day of business.’
‘I would look after her if she got into trouble.’
The truth was he didn’t need the rent his great-aunt insisted on paying him. Could easily settle her overheads.
‘Maybe she doesn’t want to be looked after? Maybe she wants to be totally independent. I hope I’ll be the same when I’m her age.’
Sandy at seventy-five years old? A quick image came to him of her with white hair, all skewered up in a bun on top of her head, and every bit as feisty as his great-aunt.
‘I’m sure you will be,’ he said, and he forced himself not to smile at the oddly endearing thought. Or, by way of comparison, look too appreciatively at the beautiful woman who was Sandy now, on her thirtieth birthday.
‘What about paying the bills?’ she asked.
‘I’ll take care of that.’
‘In other words,’ she said with a wry twist to her mouth, ‘don’t forget that I’m just a temporary caretaker?’
‘Something like that,’ he agreed, determined not to make it easy for her. Though somewhere, hidden deep behind the armour he wore around his feelings, he wished he didn’t have to act so tough. But if he didn’t protect himself he might fall apart—and he couldn’t risk that.
She looked up at him, her expression both teasing and serious at the same time. But her voice wasn’t as confident as it had been. There was a slight betraying quiver that wrenched at him.
‘You know something, Ben? I’m beginning to think you don’t want me in Dolphin Bay,’ she said, her eyes huge, her luscious mouth trembling. She took a deep breath. ‘Am I right?’
He stared at her, totally unable to say anything.
Images flashed through his mind like frames from a flickering cinema screen.
Sandy at that long-ago surf club dance, her long hair flying around her, laughing as she and her sister tried to mimic Kate’s outrageously sexy dancing, smiling shyly when she noticed him watching her.
Sandy breathless and trembling in his arms as he kissed her for the first time.
Sandy in the tiniest of bikinis, overcoming her fear to bravely paddle out on her body-board to meet him where the big waves were breaking.
Sandy, her eyes red and her face blotchy and tear-stained, running to him again and again to hurl herself in his arms for just one more farewell kiss as her father impatiently honked the horn on the family car taking her back to Sydney.
Then nothing. Nothing.
Until now.
He fisted his hands so tightly it hurt the harsh edges of the scars. Scars that were constant reminders of the agony of his loss.
How in hell could he answer her question?
