Just a Summer Fling (6 page)

“And flowers,” the server confirmed. “A low arrangement, so you can look over it and still do as much gazing-into-each-others-eyes as you want.”

Oh, it was a terrible idea. But Ashley really wanted to gaze into Josh’s eyes. She wanted to explain herself. Most importantly, she wanted to know if what she’d felt was real, and if it was, she wanted to figure out a way to get a constant supply of it.

“Josh Sullivan is here,” the chef said as she poked her head out the cottage door. She worked at the café in town and had taken all the information when Ashley had asked about the catering poster behind the counter. Now, at the cabin, Ashley had assigned the chef to be her spy, since there was a window in the kitchen with a view of the driveway. But she didn’t sound too pleased with the report she was making. “Is he . . . Is this all for
Josh
?”

The server and the chef exchanged looks, making Ashley even more nervous than she’d already been. “I didn’t know you knew him.”

“He’s my cousin,” the chef said. “He went to school with Paul.” She nodded toward the server.

“I thought his cousin was a man.” Ashley’s brain wasn’t working properly. “There was a man who spread mulch for him, and they said he was Josh’s cousin.”

“It’s a big family,” the chef said. “That would have been Kevin. He and his sisters are on the other side of things. I’m from Josh’s dad’s side. There’s not as many of us.”

There was a knock on the door then, and Ashley didn’t have time to figure out any more of Josh’s family relations. She ran her hands over her cream linen dress—it was designer but looked simple, and she knew it hugged her curves just right—and then headed for the front door. She’d committed. She’d made the call, and now she needed to follow through.

She ignored the instinct to run upstairs and hide in her bedroom until everyone just went away.

“Josh!” she said as she opened the door. Her voice was too loud, too excited. She sounded like she was on coke. “It’s good to see you.” And by trying to be more sedate, she’d ended up with a voice that made it seem like she was about to pass out. Damn it, she was better than this! “Come on in,” she managed in a fairly moderate tone.

“You’ve got a leaky pipe?” He stepped inside and she noticed the large metal toolbox in his hand.

“Actually . . .” Oh God. He already thought she’d lied to him about the bet, and now she was going to have to tell him she’d lied about the pipe as well. How the hell had she thought this was going to work? In her ridiculous plan, she was supposed to just laugh now, admit her trickiness, and he’d laugh along with her and join her for dinner. Was she insane? That would never work.

But maybe she could bluff through it. “Yeah. A leaky pipe. In the . . . the downstairs bathroom.” But she didn’t want him looking at the toilet. That was too gross. “The sink. There was a puddle of water under it, and I cleaned it up. But then it came back.” She was walking as she talked, leading the way to the bathroom with the nonexistent leak. “So I cleaned it up again.”

They reached the bathroom and both looked in at the bone-dry floor. Ashley tried to giggle. “Oh. Wow. It’s . . . Did it fix itself?”

“That doesn’t usually happen,” Josh said. He set his toolbox on the floor and bent to peer under the pedestal sink. He reached up and ran his hand over it all, the pipes and the wall and the floor, and then he looked up at her. “How long since you cleaned it up?”

What was a good amount of time? She had no idea. “Uh . . . an hour?”

“And how long was it the last time, between cleaning it up and the puddle coming back?”

“An hour?” It had worked the first time, so she was going to keep using it.

“So it should be wet again by now.” Josh turned both of the taps on, then crouched down again and felt around.

Ashley wondered if she could distract him somehow and then splash a little water onto the floor. There had to be something.

“There’s no sign of it coming through the wall,” he said. “How much water was there? It might have just been condensation, if you were running cold water in the sink.”

“I
was
running cold water!” She seized on the idea like a life preserver. “And it was really humid earlier. And I guess there wasn’t really that much water on the floor. Maybe I panicked a little.” Damn, she was going to get away with this!

Except that, as usual, she wanted more. “I feel like an idiot,” she said. “I dragged you out here for nothing. But, look. I was expecting someone for dinner, and he’s cancelled on me. If you wanted to join me—”

“I’ll bill Cullen for the trip,” Josh said. “Just travel time, unless there’s something else you need me to look at while I’m here.”

The sunset
. She needed him to look at the sunset. And her eyes. Hell, she’d settle for him staring at her boobs. “Just a snack?” she suggested. “Something for the road?”

“I’ve eaten. So, if there’s nothing else you need . . .” Then he stopped and looked behind her.

Ashley turned to see the chef—Josh’s damn cousin—standing by the kitchen door, smiling neutrally. “Appetizers in here or on the deck?” she asked.

Josh stared at her, then back at Ashley. Everything was fine, Ashley assured herself. She’d
said
she was expecting someone for dinner. Her story still held. But then Josh turned
and squinted at the sink. Then he turned back to Ashley, and she knew that he knew.

“Sam Curran’s a good guy,” Josh said quietly. Ashley couldn’t tell exactly what emotion was simmering beneath Josh’s still surface, but she was pretty sure whatever it was would boil over if she wasn’t careful. “He trusts me. I assume he trusts you. I wouldn’t want to bill him for something that was . . . something that didn’t have anything to do with his house.”

She stared at him. “Bill
me
!” she blurted out. “I’ll pay for your time. I’m sorry. I just . . . I thought . . . there
was
water!” But he just looked at her, and she had to drop her eyes. “No,” she admitted. “Sorry. There wasn’t water.”

She heard the chef easing back into the kitchen, retreating from the tension. But Josh didn’t retreat. He stepped forward, closer to Ashley, close enough that she could smell him, soap and wood and other things she didn’t recognize but wanted to understand. She could practically feel the heat of his body and she felt herself swaying toward it.

“Stop it,” he said quietly.

She looked up at him and felt like a little girl being scolded by her teacher. Her hot teacher.

“There’s lots of people up here who’d like to spend time with you. Lots of men who’d like to take you to bed, if that’s what you’re looking for. Find one of them.”

“I found you,” she said. It seemed stupid, but it was true. She’d found him, and she didn’t want to lose him.

“I’m not interested.” He bent down and picked up his toolbox. “I’m not playing this game.”

She had her mouth open to argue, but then she shut it. Had she really been going to claim she wasn’t playing a game, when she’d lured him over to the house on false pretenses? When she’d maybe made a bet about sleeping with him? “I’m not . . . I’m not doing it on purpose,” she managed.

He snorted. “Fine. It’s all an accident. Just have your accidents with someone else, okay? I’m out.”

And then he left. His broad shoulders, his tight ass, the shaggy hair that would give her a great grip for controlling where his mouth went . . . She watched it all walk away. And there was nothing she could do to stop it from happening.

Six

“YOU BACK AT
it, Joshy?” Abigail was Josh’s cousin, and they usually got along. But she had a wicked tongue and as much of a love/hate relationship with summer people as he did. “Hanging out with the rich and famous?”

Josh had known it was coming. He’d thought about buying his lunch somewhere else, but he knew he’d have to deal with her sooner or later, and Abi’s café had the best sandwiches in town. So he’d come in before the lunch rush and braced himself. Now he said, “I was there to repair a leak.”

“Was it a leak in her
heart
?” Abi asked with exaggerated concern. She snorted. “Mom and Dad say you should go for it. They can’t keep her DVDs on the shelves at the store ever since she came to town. They want to know how long she’s staying so they know if they should order more.”

All summer, Ashley had said, but Josh didn’t think his aunt and uncle should be making business decisions based on that report. “Don’t be so stingy with the turkey,” he said instead, frowning at the sandwich Abi was making him.

“It’s a careful balance, Joshy. For the flavors to blend properly, ingredients need to be kept in proportion.” But she slipped another couple of chunks of turkey onto the bread. “You should have stuck around for dinner the other night. I made that cold soup you like, and some really tasty ravioli. Actually, if she’d told me the food was for you, I wouldn’t have had to make many changes to the menu. It was pretty much all stuff you like anyway.”

“So you didn’t know?” He’d been wondering about that a little. “You weren’t part of the setup?”

“No. Honestly, the way she was fussing, I thought somebody really important was coming over. When I saw you pull up, I figured there was a mistake.”

“There was,” he said. Then he added, “A bit more bacon wouldn’t kill you, would it?”

Abi looked at him thoughtfully as she added a few more crisped strips. “You know, she was actually pretty nice. And she was nervous about it all. It was cute. And after you left she just sat there on the deck by herself, staring out at the lake. . . . Paul and I ended up eating the dinner. Which was delicious. You missed out on good food, at least, and probably on good company.”

Josh squinted at her. “Are you serious? You practically threw a party when I stopped hanging out with the summer people. You said I’d dragged the family name through the mud for long enough. Now you’re saying I should be going back to that?”

“Not to all summer people. Not to that McArthur dragon lady. But Ashley seemed different.”

Josh thought of the bet and shook his head. “She’s no different. She’s just a better actress. Besides, I thought you were trying to fix me up with Martina Walker?”

“You were too slow on that one. She gave up on you and she’s dating that new guy, the dentist. What’s his name, again?”

Josh had no idea what the dentist’s name was and didn’t really care. It wasn’t like he’d been interested in Martina in
the first place. She was a nice enough girl, but there was no spark, nothing. . . . Damn it. He was back to thinking about Ashley Carlsen. But it was true. There hadn’t been a connection with Martina like there was with Ashley.

But that was too damn bad. “Toss in a couple butter tarts, okay?” Better to think about food than women. “And maybe one of those big cookies.”

“Careful, Joshy,” Abi said as she wrapped up his food. “Ashley’s used to all those Hollywood hard bodies. If you get pudgy, she won’t want you anymore.”

At least they both agreed that she was only after him for his body. “Make it two cookies,” he said.

The bell on the door rang as Josh was paying for his lunch, and he glanced over to see Scott Mason walk in with his arm around a vaguely familiar woman. He and Josh had been in the same class all through school and gotten along fine until somewhere about sixth grade when they’d both liked Wendy Trainor and she’d decided to like Josh instead of Scott. Scott had held a grudge ever since, even though he and Wendy had ended up dating all through high school. Now Scott saw Josh and leered. “I lost twenty bucks on you the other night, Sullivan! What the fuck happened with you and Ashley Carlsen?”

“Nothing happened. That’s why you lost the bet, right?” Josh left the change with Abi and started for the door, but Scott stepped sideways. Not quite blocking the path, but making it so Josh would have to dodge around him. Josh didn’t like to dodge.

“What were you thinking, man? A hot little piece like that? And she wasn’t going to put up a fight, obviously. And that McArthur woman was watching the whole thing like she wanted in on the action. You could have had a hell of a night! Man, I know summer women are slutty, but—”

“Watch your mouth,” Josh said.

Scott didn’t seem to catch the warning in Josh’s tone.
“What? She met you for the first time that night, right? And she was all over you. She wanted to go home with you, right? Sherry was next to you at the bar and she heard that much. If that’s not being slutty—”

“She was playing around,” Josh said firmly. “Having fun. That’s all.”

Scott looked like he was thinking about arguing the point. Then he took a moment to look at Josh’s face. “Okay,” he grumbled with a shrug. “Fine. She’s a saint. Whatever. You still cost me twenty bucks.”

Josh didn’t think he’d get into that. Instead, he turned to say good-bye to Abi and saw her watching him contemplatively. He had no idea what she was thinking, and figured it was best to leave it that way. “Thanks for the sandwich,” he said, and he headed out of the café. He wondered if the “O” on the list of Vermont hazards should be “overprotective.” And his first instinct should
not
have involved sharing that idea with Ashley Carlsen.

*   *   *

ASHLEY
wasn’t stalking the man. But her pottery lesson had been prescheduled and she’d needed something to take her mind off her stupidity. Laurie had set her up with a chunk of marble on top of a rustic wooden table in the middle of the shop and was showing her how to use slabs of clay to make interesting shapes; then Ashley had glanced out the window and seen Josh striding out of the café across the street, an angry frown on his handsome face.

Laurie noticed her distraction and glanced across the street. “Josh Sullivan,” she said as if the words were a complete and meaningful sentence. Then she looked back at Ashley. “I heard a little story about you and him at Woody’s. . . .”

“Just me,” Ashley said quickly. “He put up with me, but just because he’s a good guy. None of that was his idea.”

Laurie looked a little skeptical. “Make sure the seam’s tight, then dip your finger in the water and use it to smooth out the edges,” she directed. As Ashley worked Laurie peered back out the window. “I don’t know him that well. I used to be friends with Anika, one of his cousins. Have you noticed yet that he’s related to practically everybody? That’s because his mom’s a Linden, and they have big families and none of them ever move away. I used to go over to her place—they still have a bit of lakefront, which is pretty damn rare for any locals up here—and we’d hang out on the dock and I’d ogle all the handsome boys in her family. But then Anika broke the family tradition and actually did move away, so I kind of lost touch. Josh was definitely nice to look at, though. But he’s . . .” She made a face. “He’s got a bit of a reputation, you know. For . . . well, for stuff like that night at Woody’s. Going home with strangers. Especially rich strangers.”

“He’s made it pretty clear he wants nothing to do with me,” Ashley said firmly. She liked Laurie and was pretty sure the woman was trying to warn her rather than trying to be a busybody, but there was no need for a warning. Josh Sullivan had been a brief visitor to Ashley’s life and he’d run away as quickly as he could at the first opportunity. He wouldn’t be coming back.

She looked back down at the vase she’d constructed. It was clumsy and rough compared to the smooth grace of the one Laurie had made, but Ashley still liked it. And she liked having something under her control, something that responded to her efforts. “Should I squish this one and start over?” she asked.

Laurie shrugged. “Your call. We can fire it and glaze it if you want, and you can still make another. Clay doesn’t cost all that much, really, so if you want to keep it, you should.”

Ashley looked down at the rough shape. “I’m keeping it,” she said firmly. “I want to glaze it a nice deep blue and
put it in my living room at home and if people don’t like it, that’s too damn bad.”

Laurie raised an eyebrow. “Okay. Pottery as expression of defiance. Very nice. Let’s put that bad boy over there for now and you can make something
else
to tell the world to go to hell.”

“Not the whole world,” Ashley said sweetly. She took the lump of clay from inside the plastic bag on the floor and tossed it hard on the marble slab. No, not the whole world. But Josh Sullivan the Unforgiving? She gathered the clay up and slammed it down again. She was done with Josh Sullivan. He wasn’t the only one who could walk away from a bad situation.

She managed to keep the resentment burning through the rest of her lesson and for about half of the drive home, but then it faded into a vague sense of disappointment. It was stupid. She barely knew the man. She’d made her play and she’d been shot down. That was all there was to it.

She thought about heading back to L.A. She hadn’t decided to stay in Vermont because she was chasing after a man, but it was a bit difficult to forget about him when she knew she might see him again, when everyone in town knew him or was related to him, when he shared a name with the damn lake she was staying on. . . .

Her phone rang and she looked down at the call display. Charlotte Samson for the third time that day, and for the third time Ashley ignored the call. Which was a pretty clear sign that she should stay in Vermont a little longer, she figured. Charlotte was a good friend, one of the few Ashley had in the industry, and if Ashley wasn’t ready to talk to her, then she wasn’t ready to talk to anybody. In a few weeks, Ashley would be able to gossip a little and start speculating about what roles she should be looking at. But she needed more time.

But apparently she wasn’t going to get it. She’d assumed
Charlotte had been calling from California, but when Ashley pulled into the cottage driveway, there was a convertible parked by the house. And Charlotte was leaning on the hood, her smile wide and excited. Ashley might not have been ready to go back to Hollywood, but apparently Hollywood had decided to track her down.