Crazy About You (7 page)

Emma wondered what a second kiss would taste like, and if it would pack as much heat as the first.

Chase settled the bill with Kallie and they exited the café onto the busy street. Groups of tourists meandered in and out of the various shops and restaurants, yelling to one another and stopping to take selfies with some of the more colorfully dressed visitors. A pedicab sounded its bell to clear a path through the crowd, the drunken passengers singing a pop tune at top volume. People dressed in costumes stood on every street corner handing out flyers for evening shows and performances; and two aging drag queens, one dressed as Marilyn Monroe and the other dressed as Cher, posed for pictures with visitors in front of town hall. Emma felt the buzz of summertime energy surging through her hometown, and wondered what Chase thought of the commotion swirling around them in the middle of the afternoon.

“Commercial Street gets pretty hectic, especially in August,” Emma said. “At least it’s not Carnival yet. Next week will be insane.”

“Hard to believe it gets worse than this,” Chase mumbled, barely avoiding a collision with a group of shirtless young men bouncing a soccer ball between them. “What’s Carnival?”

“Like Mardi Gras in New Orleans, except geared toward celebrating, uh, alternative lifestyle choices.” She blushed as she explained the town’s annual celebration without mentioning sex. “They have different themes every year and people tailor their costumes and parties to fit with the overall scheme. Like, one year the theme was ‘Comic Book Capers’ and everyone dressed like comic book characters ranging from Batman to Richie Rich. One of the hotels hosted an Aqua Man pool party and I’ve never seen so many colorful speedos in one place!”

Chase raised one eyebrow. “So, not restricted to Mardi Gras purple and gold.”

“Not at all. Some of the themes are more risqué, like when it was ‘Viva Las Vegas’ and nipple tassels were all the rage, but it usually turns out, any theme can be interpreted in either tame or suggestive ways.”

“I guess it’s for adults only?” Chase gestured to a group of adolescents pouring out of one of the candy shops. “What about the families here on vacation?”

“Oh, Carnival has something for everyone,” Emma assured him. “People bring their kids to the daytime, family-friendly events, like the parade near the end of the week, complete with floats and music and fireworks at night.”

Chase nodded, looking like he was having trouble imagining it all. “What’s the theme for this year’s event?”

Emma smiled and pointed to one of the banners strung over Commercial Street, fluttering in the breeze. “Married to the Mob,” she read. “I expect to see a lot of pinstripes and fedoras starting on Saturday, but probably even more boas and flapper dresses than suits. The town swells with increased tourist traffic during the days, the nights jam-packed with parties and drinking. Super busy, but super fun.”

“Sounds interesting. Maybe I’ll have to come back to check it out next year.”

A band tightened around her heart like a vise, but she kept her tone light. “If you won’t even be here Saturday, I take it you’re not planning to stay in town very long.”

He shook his head. “A couple days at most. Just long enough to get the gyre fully mapped for the summit, assuming the anomaly your father reported belongs to the same gyre.”

“Then what?”

He shrugged. Not a good answer. And yet, what more did she want from him?
One kiss isn’t a relationship,
she reminded herself again. How could a simple kiss leave her in such a state of confusion? Not that there was anything simple about that kiss…

Forget about the darn kiss. This was only lunch.
Her favorite sweet shop loomed ahead.
And maybe dessert.
“Hey, is there any of Tony’s money left for ice cream? This place up on the left makes the most awesome homemade flavor combos. They’re to die for! Guaranteed you won’t find anything like it in the Big Apple, not in a million years. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“How can I say no to such a build-up?”

She tied the dog’s leash to a shaded bicycle rack at the foot of the stairs. Chase followed her through the double doors into the pink Victorian house where bins of colorful saltwater taffy and a wide variety of penny candies lined the walls. The crowd at the ice cream counter stood eight deep, giving them plenty of time to consider the choices written in colored chalk along the walls.

He cleared his throat. “So, Tony is your boyfriend?”

“Tony Lenzi. He sells corporate insurance. And he’s not my boyfriend. He’s only a friend.”

Chase’s eyebrows shot up. “Lenzi? Is he part of the Lenzini family?”

“I don’t think so. I would assume his father has the same last name as Tony. Lenzi, not Lenzini.”

Chase blew out an exasperated breath. “I meant the Lenzini
crime
family, smarty pants.”

“Crime family? As in mafia?” Emma frowned. “Are you serious? Married to the Mob is the Carnival theme, not for real. Just because someone has an Italian name doesn’t automatically qualify them for a role in the Godfather movies or a mini-series on cable television.”

He shrugged. “I grew up in New York. Organized crime is a real thing, and those
particular
Italian names are familiar because they’re favorites of newspaper crime reporters. But you’re right, the name doesn’t automatically mean the guy is part of
that
family.”

Emma stood in front of the counter, undecided on what flavor to order. And whether to take Chase seriously about the mobster thing. Thoughts of Tony swirled through her brain, sorting truth from fiction. He sold insurance, not mob-based protection. Didn’t he?

Chase jostled her elbow, his tone teasing. “Earth to Emma, she’s asking for your order.”

“I’ll try that first one listed under the ‘new’ column: Vanilla Chip Nantucket Blueberry, please.”

The teen behind the counter nodded. “Cup or cone?”

She cocked an eyebrow at Chase. “How much of that money is left over from lunch?”

“Plenty. Get whatever you want.”

She turned to order. “Do you have any of the chocolate-dipped waffle cones with jimmies? The colored ones?” When the girl nodded, Emma gave her a thumbs-up.

Chase placed an order for a double scoop of chocolate in a cup. Emma gestured toward the chalkboard, eyebrows raised. “All these cool flavors and you go for plain old chocolate?”

“What if I chose something with an awesome name but then didn’t like the taste? You can’t go wrong with chocolate. It’s a sure thing.” The pair shuffled forward as the next person in line started to order.

“Do you always go for the sure thing? Don’t you ever want to try something different?”

“It never hurts to play it safe.”

“What fun is that? ‘Nothing gambled, nothing gained,’ as my grandfather used to say. Better to try and fail than not try at all.” A thrill ran through her when he smiled at her words, his stormy eyes making her heart skip a beat. She wondered if her grandfather meant to include kissing strangers when he spoke of gambling and taking chances. More than ice cream, she wanted another taste of Chase.

One of the teens behind the counter called out their orders, snapping her from her daze. The oversized waffle cone of vanilla ice cream, bursting with blueberries and white chocolate chips and covered with colorful jimmies, dwarfed Chase’s sensible cup of plain chocolate. She dribbled sprinkles in her wake all the way to the sidewalk. “Here, hold this for a sec.” She shoved the cone into his empty hand and untied the dog’s leash. Hershey’s tail wagged at double speed, obviously hoping for ice cream of his own.

“Is that your philosophy of life? Always living on the edge?” He handed back her cone and they started walking in the direction of the wharf.

She didn’t hesitate. “Maybe not always. But yeah, most of the time.” A giant drip of ice cream plopped onto her bare thigh, just below the hem of her skirt, and trailed sprinkles down the front of her leg. The dog stopped to lick her knee and she let out a giggle when Chase’s eyes widened. “This is why I don’t order chocolate.”

“So you
do
plan ahead.”

“I never said I didn’t plan.” Emma slipped a napkin from her bag. “In fact, I used to be big on planning. But it turned out to be overrated. Too hard to adjust course when you get derailed. Also, how will I know what I want out of life if I don’t try a little of everything?”

He chuckled. “How can I argue with twisted logic like that?”

“You can’t.” Another large drip slid down her forearm, the dog straining his neck up to lick her elbow.

“Is that why you moved to New York?”

She hesitated, not sure how much to reveal. After all, she just met the guy, and didn’t want to see that look of pity on his face. She settled for simple truths. “I grew up here. Lived on Cape Cod all my life, and so did my parents and their parents. It’s all I knew.”

Chase grinned, licking his spoon. “Must’ve been kind of nice to be part of such a close-knit community.”

“More like stifling. Yes, it’s beautiful. And small towns can be supportive and nurturing. But I couldn’t wait to go away to college and see what else the world had to offer.”

“And?” He stared with open curiosity. “Did you find what you were looking for in New York?”

Good question
. “I like living in the city,” she said, not answering directly.

He nodded, grey eyes still trained on her, gauging her reaction. “But…”

“Let’s just say I’m not done looking.”

They arrived at a large intersection with a policeman directing traffic. Chase dumped his spoon and empty cup into the barrel on the corner, but Emma wasn’t quite finished with her cone. Before crossing the road, she pointed further up Commercial Street. “The cell phone store is half a block that way on your right, but this is where I need to say goodbye. I should get to the shop.”

“The beads shop,” Chase said under his breath, almost talking to himself.

Emma nodded. “Baubles and Beads, up this way near Macmillan Pier. Mom’s a jewelry artist, and supports other local artists too.”

“I didn’t make the connection until now. I saw you in the store yesterday morning. That was your mother behind the counter?” His forehead scrunched. “She was warning you about mobsters.”

“She was being ridiculous.”

There was a long pause, as if he wanted to say something more but thought better of it. Finally he said, “Thanks for lunch, and the tour.”

Emma took a deep breath, trying to keep her tone as light as his. “It was fun. I’d say let’s do it again sometime, except you’re leaving town so soon.”

He quickly narrowed the distance between them. His body heat enveloped her, sending her own temperature spiking. A host of butterflies rose in her stomach when his hand brushed her elbow. She swallowed hard and took a small step back, trying not to spill melting ice cream all over his clothes.
He’s leaving in a few days. Not worth the heartache, as much as I want another of his kisses
.

He closed the gap again, cupping her cheek with his hand. Despite her good intentions, her heart did this strange little skipping thing and she felt her knees go weak at the rumble of his voice. “I’ve never felt like this before. There’s chemistry between us that I don’t quite understand.”

Her lips quirked. “Leave it to the scientist to analyze a simple kiss at the chemical level.”

“There was nothing simple about that kiss.” His voice grew husky and his face got dangerously near. She knew he was right about the chemistry, her lips tingling in anticipation. Her eyelashes fluttered shut right before he asked, “But what about your boyfriend?”

Uh-oh. Her eyes flew open. “He’s not my boyfriend, I told you that at lunch. We’re just friends.”

“Does he know that?”

Emma shook her head at his accusing tone and moved out of Chase’s reach. She dumped the rest of her cone in the trash barrel, no longer hungry, and dug through her bag for another napkin. “It would never work out between me and him. Trust me on this.”

“But you like him.”

She wiped the last drips from her sticky hands. “Of course I like him. I wouldn’t be moving in with him if I didn’t like him.” She looked up, surprised by the stunned look on Chase’s face. She realized how that last statement sounded and waved her hand in protest, as if to erase her words. “No, no, no, it’s not what you’re thinking. Really! We’re only going to be roommates.”

“Just roommates? With that
hunka cheesecake
?” Chase threw Kallie’s words back at her with a big dose of sarcasm.

Her throat felt thick. Why was he looking at her that way? “We aren’t dating.”

“But you live with him.” It was a statement, not a question.

She stood up straighter. “If you don’t believe me, I guess we’re done.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but closed it without saying another word. He turned and walked into the crowd, around the corner and out of sight.

Damn
. A heavy sense of regret weighed her down and Emma fought the urge to run after him. That one accidental kiss was heaven.
Talk about chemistry!
But between all the science and NOAA stuff, and slandering Tony because he’s Italian…and not believing her. She hugged herself around the waist, taking a deep breath. Did she want him in her life if there wasn’t trust between them?

Yes! He’s the one
, screamed the voice in the back of her mind.

“No,” she argued. “I don’t need more complications in my life right now.” And a kiss like that…well, it sure tasted complicated. Especially coupled with the fact he’d only be in town a few days. Not worth it.

Straightening her back, she tugged Hershey’s leash and started down the sidewalk toward her mother’s store. She needed to focus on the task at hand. Helping her parents get through this difficult stretch, until Sean got out of the hospital. She owed them that. Then she’d go back to New York, and figure out what was next. She certainly didn’t need Chase Anderson complicating those choices.

Chapter Seven

It was seven o’clock by the time Emma locked the shop’s front door. A steady stream of artists and tourists kept her on her feet all afternoon. Several shop doors along the street were still propped open to attract foot traffic, but her mother believed in shorter workdays than some of her neighbors. Unfortunately, she knew the cell phone store also closed early, and added it to her list for the morning. Lunch with Chase lasted longer than anticipated, but she had no regrets. Well, maybe one or two. But the phone store wasn’t anywhere on that list. She could trade in her phone first thing the following morning.