Em (The Summer My Life Began Book 1) Read online

  “Is that code for ‘unfocused’?” I joke.

  He laughs. “Sounds good to me.”

  Sexy loser. That was my original thought of him. How wrong I’d been. He may not see it, but whatever he chooses, he’ll be great at it. “So no life plan?”

  “I’m working on it.”

  Cade had to grow up quickly. He probably does have things figured out. He just isn’t ready to share that side of himself yet.

  I envy him that freedom. He knows who he is and what he wants. He’s comfortable with himself.

  Reaching over, he takes a lock of my long hair and runs it through his fingers. He twirls it, studying me, and the more he studies me, the deeper my heart thuds.

  He says, “I thought we might talk about—”

  Someone bangs on his door, and we jerk apart. With a sigh, Cade gets up to answer it.

  An elderly lady stands on the other side. “My toilet’s leaking again. Mind taking a look?”

  “Sure.” He turns back to me and it may be my imagination, but his face looks really bummed out. I get it. I am, too. “My neighbor. This’ll take a while. You can take the moped back.”

  “Oh.” I push off the futon, not even hiding my disappointment.

  Cade leaves and I grab the moped keys off his counter. I don’t want to go. I want to stay. I want him to keep playing with my hair, to keep talking.

  But most of all, I want to kiss again. Badly.

  Chapter 28

  The next morning I move around my room getting ready for the day. It’s silly to think, but somehow my room seems different now that I know Cade slept and lived in it.

  My phone buzzes with a text from Gwenny. WHAT’S FOR BREAKFAST?

  NOT SURE. I’M A BIT PRECOCUPPIED. FOUND OUT A LOT ABOUT CADE.

  OH? She texts back.

  CALL YOU LATER. TOO MUCH TO TYPE.

  OKAY, BUT YOU BETTER CALL ME! I’M OFFICIALLY INTRIGUED!

  BTW, YOU’RE TEXTING FROM YOUR PHONE AND SO I’M ASSUMING YOU’RE NOT STILL GROUNDED?

  I NEGOTIATED…

  With a laugh, I slip on my flip-flops. Between the two of us, she should be the lawyer, not me.

  Halfway down the back stairs, I glance out to see Cade shirtless and on his knees as he wedges solar ground lights into the yard. When I first arrived, I stood at this same window looking out at a similar scene. Who would’ve thought we’d have such a connection?

  Not I.

  Our time yesterday in his apartment ended too soon. I could’ve sat there for hours talking, drinking in his blue eyes, and falling a little harder for him.

  But as Cade suggested, I used the moped to come home. I thought about him the whole way. And while I ate dinner. While I got ready for bed. While I drifted off to sleep.

  I have it bad.

  Domino pulls things from the refrigerator, glancing up as I enter. “Hey, sweetie. We’re going Southern today with biscuits and gravy.”

  “My thighs are bigger just thinking about it,” I joke, and Domino laughs.

  We spread out to work. As I go through the routine of mixing, rolling and cutting biscuits, my thoughts drift back to Cade.

  A deeper side of him exists that not only surprises me but delights and intrigues me. I want to know more—and I want to know where we stand.

  Breakfast comes and goes. Aunt Tilly and Frederick serve the guests. Beth shows up at some point to snag food before diving into her chores. Domino and I clean the kitchen, and just as I place the last of the leftover biscuits into a basket, Cade walks in.

  “Smells good,” he comments.

  I try for casual. “Thanks.”

  “Help yourself,” Domino tells him, walking out and leaving us alone.

  Reaching into the basket, Cade grabs a biscuit and takes a bite. He doesn’t say anything, and the silence isn’t a comfortable one.

  I clear my throat. “Biscuit good?”

  He nods, takes another bite, and continues watching me.

  I don’t know what to expect, but this awkwardness is not it. “Thirsty?”

  Cade nods.

  I concentrate on keeping my hands steady as I go to the cabinet and get a glass. Then to the refrigerator for milk. I set both on the counter and glance up to see him chewing, still watching me.

  I pour the milk, put the jug back, and place the glass in front of Cade. I busy myself with wiping a counter that really doesn’t need to be wiped.

  What is going on? Why isn’t he saying anything?

  He slides the glass from the counter, takes a drink, still watching me. I dig around in my brain for something to say but come up with nothing.

  Frederick comes in and I breathe a sigh of relief.

  “Hey, Cade,” my cousin says.

  “Hey.”

  Frederick puts dirty plates in the sink. “I’m heading to Cottage Two to help Beth.” He walks to the back door, turning to say, “Oh, and by the way, Jeremy called.” Then he walks off, leaving us alone. Again.

  My gaze finds Cade.

  He takes another gulp of milk. “Jeremy, huh?”

  I lean up against the sink. “He’s a nice guy.”

  “Hm.” Cade walks his empty glass over, slipping it into the soapy water. “What would you say if I asked you out?”

  My stomach dips. “I’d say yes.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  I smile. “Okay.”

  He smiles back, that sexy half thing, and motions to the dirty dishes. “Need help?”

  “No, I’ve got it.” I dig both hands in and wash exactly one plate before realizing Cade’s moved closer.

  Close enough, in fact, that the warmth from his body seeps into mine. I try to concentrate on washing, but my mind focuses solely on Cade.

  “Thank you,” he murmurs. “For yesterday.”

  I glance over my shoulder and into eyes gentled by emotion. I don’t know what I expected, but this is not it. “You’re welcome,” I murmur back.

  Cade draws closer, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispers before taking a step back. “We’ll leave right after breakfast.”

  “Okay.”

  Then he’s gone.

  I can’t say how long I stand staring at the spot where he stood, going over the entire thing in my head. I can’t say how long it takes my body to cool off from his warmth. I can’t say, but the buzzing of the doorbell snaps me back.

  Wiping my hands on a dishtowel, I make my way from the kitchen and into the dining room. A glance out the back window confirms Aunt Tilly and Domino stand by the bay, talking about something. I sling the towel over my shoulder and continue on into the living room.

  A tall handsome man stands by the chessboard studying the move Frederick and I last left off with. He wears khaki pants and a white polo. He sports neat and short salt-and-pepper hair with more salt than pepper. I guess him to be in his forties or fifties. Old enough to be my dad, for sure.

  Something about him seems familiar.

  “Hi,” I greet him.

  He turns. “Oh, hello.” He nods to the door. “I rang a few times but no one answered, so I let myself in. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Sure. May I help you?”

  He approaches me with his hand out to shake. “Harold Lemley.”

  Harold Lemley. His name seems familiar. I circle it around in my brain, trying to remember where I heard it.

  “I have a reservation,” he continues. “Are you Tilly?”

  “No, Tilly’s my aunt. I’m Em. Nice to meet you. Welcome. Where are you from?”

  “Originally Sacramento. But now I find my home wherever my boat and the water take me.”

  “Your boat.” It dawns on me where I saw him. “Oh, are you the owner of that large yacht that was at the marina?”

  He nods. “I am.”

  “I was wondering if you were a movie star or something.”

  Harold laughs at that. “Hardly.”

  “You’ve got quite the bodyguard, did you know that?”

 
; “My what?”

  I tell him about my walk down the dock weeks ago and that big man who stood guard in front of the yacht.

  Harold chuckles. “That’s my younger brother. He’s my security. Sometimes he takes his job a little too seriously. We’ve had problems with vandals over the past months, and so he’s a little overprotective. I do apologize for that.”

  I wave it off. “All good.” I want to ask him what he does for a living such that he can afford to travel around on a big yacht, but that’s a rude question. “So you’ve decided to be landlocked for a while?”

  “Yes, my boat needs repairs and so here I am.”

  “Em?” Aunt Tilly yells.

  “In here,” I call back.

  She bustles in, coming to an abrupt stop. “Oh.” She looks at Mr. Harold Lemley. “Hi.”

  “Hello.”

  “I need to finish up,” I say, leaving them. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Lemley.”

  “Likewise.”

  While they stand talking, I walk away. Harold Lemley. I ponder his name. Yes, something sounds familiar about it.

  Chapter 29

  The next morning Jeremy calls to tell me he just wants to be friends. I should be relieved, as that’s what I wanted to say to him, but the whole thing leaves a weirdness in my gut.

  Weird like I let too much time pass and should’ve been the one to call him, not the other way around.

  Weird like I somehow messed up and lost a friend.

  He told me he wanted to stay in touch, but still, the whole thing leaves me uneasy. I don’t feel good about myself. I should have been more honest with him.

  “Who took your last lollipop?” Aunt Tilly asks, coming into my room.

  I give a half-hearted chuckle. “Do I look that bummed?”

  “Want to talk about it?”

  Sitting down on the edge of my bed, I tell her about the phone call. “I feel bad. I didn’t treat him right. And now I have a date with Cade. How can I go and enjoy myself with him while I’m feeling guilty about Jeremy?”

  Tilly sits down beside me. “As hard as you try, Em, you’re not perfect. You’re going to make mistakes. Let some time pass, then give Jeremy a call and apologize. It’s the right thing to do. Just don’t beat yourself up over it.” She gets back up. “Now, go have fun with Cade and worry about this later.”

  Trying to shake off my melancholy, I walk downstairs. “Hey, Domino.” I step into the kitchen. “Do you know where Cade is?”

  “He hasn’t shown up yet.” Domino waves a metal whisk at me. “But I heard you two have a hot date.”

  I blush. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Please, nothing’s a secret around here.”

  “Do you know what we’re doing?” I ask. “Where we’re going?”

  With his index finger, Domino draws an X over his lips. “Top-secret information you’re asking for there.” He tosses an apple at me. “Now, get busy. The sooner you get done with breakfast, the sooner you’re out of here.”

  Methodically I core apples, prepping them for baking, thinking through everything. Tilly’s right. As much as I try, I’m not perfect. I shouldn’t beat myself up over Jeremy. I’ll let a few days pass, then call and apologize.

  It’s the right thing to do.

  I help Domino prep the rest of the meal, then assist Frederick and Aunt Tilly with serving the guests. As I wring out a dishrag, Cade appears in the doorway.

  “Done?” he asks.

  With a nod, I untie my apron. “Where are we going? What should I pack?”

  “Nothing. I’ve already got everything. Just make sure you have your suit on.”

  After a quick trip back to my room to throw on my suit and get a few things, I meet Cade at the van. A couple of duffle bags sit in the back alongside a small cooler. But the duffle bags are zipped, and so I still have no idea what Cade has planned.

  Anticipation zips and zings through me. “What’s in the bags?” I ask.

  Cade shakes his head. “Uh-huh. You’ll find out.”

  “It’s just no one’s ever planned a surprise day for me before.”

  He cranks the engine. “Then I’d say you’re definitely due.”

  Come to think of it, I always have a game plan. I know what I’m doing and what my family expects of me. I’ve lived more in the moment here than in my entire life.

  I laugh. Go figure. Me, Elizabeth Margaret, being spontaneous.

  Cade pulls out onto the coastal highway. “What are you laughing at?”

  “Me. I love this spontaneity. My life is way too scripted.”

  Cade cuts me an amused look. “Well, you should feel honored.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “I normally don’t have a script, so to say I planned a day is saying something.”

  I prop my arm in the open window. “I do feel honored. Looks like both of us are stepping out of our usual selves for the day.”

  “Looks like.”

  We ride on in silence for a few minutes with the windows down and the ocean breeze flowing in. We pass the marina and I note Sid’s boat gone.

  The spot where we went surfing goes by, and a few minutes later we pull off to the right and park alongside the coastal highway.

  Cade cuts the engine. “First stop,” he says, opening the driver’s door.

  I climb out and stand for a second staring straight down. We’re on a ledge that drops fifty feet or so straight into the ocean. The water rolls and crashes into rocks, spraying saltwater up and out. Good thing I’m not afraid of heights.

  “It’s beautiful,” I say.

  Cade takes my hand. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

  He leads me past the van, ducking between two palm trees, and steps onto a rough-cut trail bordered by wild bushes.

  I survey the steep path as it winds down, a little hesitant of the decline without a railing.

  Cade gives my hand a little tug. “Come on.”

  I follow him down, using the bushes to steady myself and trying to take in the scenery at the same time. Greenery covers the whole ledge. So thick, in fact, it’s nearly impossible to see anything else. Underbrush so tall only glimpses of the ocean peek through.

  “All this green reminds me of Ireland. Gwenny and I toured this old university and we were amazed at how much ivy and green covered everything. It was so beautiful.”

  Cade steps down the trail. “What was the name of the university?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Does it look anything like Harvard?”

  “Harvard?”

  “Yeah, Tilly told me you’re going there.”

  “Yes, I’m going to be a lawyer and work at my dad’s firm.” My standard answer, one my dad has been telling people since forever. An answer I naturally give too.

  “Really.” Cade’s reply comes out as a statement, not a question.

  I’m used to people being impressed, not unimpressed with my career aspirations. Or, I should say, my dad’s career aspirations.

  “What do you really want to do?” He looks over his shoulder, giving me one of those sexy half-smiles.

  “I really want to be a chef.” The words come out quick and sure, and my shoulders ease.

  He rounds an overhanging bush, holding it out of the way for me. “Yeah, I can totally see that.”

  My heart skips a gleeful beat. “Really?”

  “Absolutely. I thought it was a given.”

  “Reality is, though, I’ll be a lawyer.”

  He stops walking and turns to me. “Why? Because someone told you so?”

  “Well, yes, actually.” It feels stupid to admit that. “It’s already paid for and everything.”

  Cade gives me an incredulous look. “Oh, really. It’s paid for. As in your dad has already written a check to some university for umpteen years of studies.”

  “Well, no, of course not. I mean, it’s in an account and earmarked for my college.”

  Cade’s brows lift. “Earmarke
d? Are you listening to yourself? Em, it’s great—wonderful, in fact—that your parents set aside money for you and college. But if you don’t want to go to a regular university, then don’t go. If you want to go to culinary school, go.”

  I sigh. “But they won’t pay for culinary school.”

  “Then pay for it yourself.”

  “But . . .” I stare at him, and he stares back. The more I stare the more I realize he’s right. If I truly want to be a chef, I need to make it happen. College fund or no college fund. “But they’ll be upset. It’s not what they want for me. It’s not what they’ve planned for me. I’m valedictorian, for God’s sake. Valedictorians can’t be chefs.”

  “Why not?”

  I think about that for a few seconds, coming up with no solid reason. Who says valedictorians can’t be chefs?

  “Sooner or later you’re going to figure out your life is your life. You can’t please everybody. Now’s the time for you to make a change before you’re too far into the whole law thing.”

  Cade’s right. I need to stop trying to be someone I don’t really want to be.

  “Tilly told me once you can’t make others happy until you’re happy,” he says. “I really believe in that.”

  “Is that why you do things the way you want to do them?”

  “Darn right.” He leans in. “Valedictorian, huh? That’s hot.”

  I blush.

  Cade pushes one last shrub aside. “We’re here.”

  Ducking around, I step through and onto a very small patch of sand. I turn and look all the way up to where we came from. “Wow, I didn’t realize we’d come that far!” From this angle, it looks much taller than I originally thought. Maybe even a hundred feet.

  Cade takes off his shoes, tucking them behind a bush, and I do the same.

  He takes my hand again. “Come on.”

  We inch along the tiny beach with the water nearly touching our toes. One big boulder sits up ahead, so large it blocks us from continuing on. Between the boulder and the wall of the ledge, I make out a tiny sliver of an opening.

  Still holding my hand, Cade steps sideways into the opening and I trail behind into complete blackness.