Nantucket Romance 3-in-1 Bundle (100 page)
Arielle looked away, admiring the sunset, he supposed.
“Maybe if we keep it fun,” he wondered aloud. “No moonlit boat rides or romantic strolls on the beach.”
“Maybe you could do something Sabrina enjoys.”
“Yeah, something like that.” Hope pried its way in, wedging open the door again. The boat rocked gently in the waves as he racked his brain for an idea. He mentally went through Sabrina’s letters, searching for some activity she wouldn’t turn down. What was she obsessed with? What activity would she do anything to participate in, even if it meant being stuck with him?
He felt a grin work its way onto his face. “I have an idea,” he said.
Sweetpea: I’ve always wanted to tour the Longfellow House in Boston. Someday I’m going do it.
The front door slammed and, moments later, Arielle appeared in the kitchen. “Couldn’t you have a more interesting hobby?”
Sabrina had tried to read all night. Too bad she hadn’t gotten her mind off Tucker and Arielle long enough to finish a chapter. Finally, she’d given up and started a batch of cupcakes. Sometimes a girl needed chocolate.
“You have something against cupcakes?” Sabrina pulled the pan from the oven, and the sweet aroma filled the kitchen.
“Not
that
hobby. The book thing.”
What was Arielle carrying on about? Whatever it was, she didn’t seem pleased. “What are you talking about?”
“He’s taking me to some dead writer’s house in Boston. He cleared his schedule for a day, already bought tickets, and now I have to fake interest in some ancient property and probably a zillion artifacts. Booooorrrinnng.”
A stitch caught in Sabrina’s stomach. A writer’s house in Boston? There were many of them, but only one she’d mentioned online. “Who? Which writer?”
Arielle pinched off a piece of hot cupcake and slid it in her mouth. “Henry Fellow Longsworth or whatever it is.”
Sabrina’s insides felt weighted with lead. “Henry Wadsworth Longfellow?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Ugh! Within blocks of all those wonderful boutiques and I’ll be stuck in some moldy old house.”
It wasn’t fair. Sabrina would give her right arm to go there. “Charles Dickens visited that moldy old house, and so did Nathaniel Hawthorne.” Sabrina loosened the cupcakes from the pan and set them to cool on a wire rack.
Arielle sighed. “Unless they’re interested in having me redecorate it, I couldn’t care less about some dumb old house.”
Her cousin’s acting skills were going to be tested. “Well, you’ll have to feign interest. He knows how badly I want to go there.”
“No kidding. Hey, these are pretty good.”
Sabrina watched Arielle take a hot cupcake and bite into it. Steam rose from the center, carrying the sweet scent, but suddenly she didn’t feel like chocolate. She didn’t have an appetite at all.
“I think I’ll turn in.” She didn’t have to be up early for work or she would’ve turned in long ago. Besides, she was too busy fretting over Tucker and Arielle to sleep.
“I’ll wrap these when they’ve cooled.” Her cousin took another bite of the cupcake.
“Thanks.” Sabrina retreated to her room and slid under the covers, feeling the familiar stab of jealousy.
A pounding at the door roused Sabrina from a deep sleep. She checked the clock. It was early. Too early for Renny.
The trip to Boston. Were Arielle and Tucker leaving this early? She hadn’t heard Arielle moving around, hadn’t heard the water running in the bathroom.
Sabrina peered through her bedroom window. Tucker stood on the landing, his hands tucked in his pockets, bouncing on the balls of his feet like he couldn’t wait for the day to start.
“Arielle?” she called, swinging open her bedroom door. The living room was dark, and her cousin was a shadowed lump on the couch.
“Arielle, Tucker’s here.” She shook her cousin.
“What?”
“Tucker’s here. You’re going to Boston today, you overslept.”
Arielle moaned. “I have a migraine.”
Another tap sounded at the door. “Come on, Arielle, he’s waiting.”
Arielle pressed her fingertips to her temples. “I can’t go.”
“You’re not just trying to get out of this, are you?”
She moaned again.
“Maybe it’ll go away if you take something.”
“I already did, hours ago.”
The cupcakes. Chocolate gave Arielle migraines. She wondered how many her cousin had.
Tap, tap, tap
. The knock was louder. She had to answer the door before he woke Renny.
“Tell him I can’t go. Apologize for me, okay?” Arielle rolled away as if it were a closed matter.
Great. Not only was Tucker going to be disappointed, but Sabrina had to deliver the news.
She sighed and went to the door, wishing her hair wasn’t matted and straggly, wishing she wasn’t wearing her pajamas. She gave her hair a futile fluff and pulled open the door.
Tucker’s smile was disarming. “Good morning.”
“Uh—hi,Tucker.” She cast a glare at the lump on the couch. “Um, I’m afraid I have bad news. Arielle has a migraine this morning.”
His eyes registered surprise, but the smile hung around. “Oh. Is she going to be okay?”
“She gets them occasionally—I mean, she said she does. She said she doesn’t feel up to going today. She asked me to apologize for her.”
His smile faltered. “Oh.” He looked toward the yard.
Sabrina followed his eyes toward the yard, down the tree limb to where the robin’s nest still clung for dear life. She could hear the hum of Tucker’s car from the front of the house. She felt bad that he’d cleared his schedule for the trip, and now it was canceled. He looked vaguely disappointed, and she was so tired of disappointing him.
Then he turned his full attention on her.“Hey, I have an idea. You want to go with me? Arielle said you were a fan of Longfellow too.”
Her traitorous heart jumped the curb, and she clearly saw a sign marked “Danger Ahead.” “Oh, I don’t know—”
“Come on, it’ll be fun. I already reserved tickets, and I cleared my calendar for the day. I was looking forward to it.” He gave her the puppy dog look. So not fair.
Reasons. She needed reasons to say no. She couldn’t think of a single legitimate one.
“It’s your day off, right?” he asked.
She clenched her jaw. He knew way too much about her. “I have to go to the grocery. And read. I was going to read today.”
Lame, lame, lame
.
“You can do that any day. Come on, you’re already up. Doesn’t a trip to Boston sound fun? It’s a beautiful day for a boat ride. The Longfellow House . . . Please?”
Tempting, it was so tempting. And it was a beautiful day. Already the sky was clear blue, and the temperature promised a mildly warm day. Still . . .
“I’m not ready. I just got up, haven’t even showered yet.”
Is that
the best you can do?
“We have time. I’ll wait in the car, just come down when you’re ready.”
“But—” She had no more words, but it didn’t matter, because Tucker was already traipsing down the steps like a kid just dismissed from school.
Sweetpea: I think courage resides deep inside of everyone. But sometimes it’s impossible to reach because of all the stuff piled on top.
Sabrina strolled through the gardens beside Tucker. Every now and then his arm brushed hers, especially when they toured the crowded house. The artifacts had been fascinating, and though she knew most of what the guide recited, just seeing the rooms and desk where Longfellow had written had been a dream come true.
The garden showed off its summer wardrobe, a riot of colors and textures. Blue delphinium, pink hollyhock, vibrant purple Japanese iris, and dozens of other varieties crept and climbed the surfaces of the garden. Renny would be in heaven.
“What’s that?” Tucker pointed.
Sabrina caught sight of the bronze object nearby. “That must be the sundial. Longfellow’s daughter placed it here. She put her father’s favorite motto on it.”
“How do you know so much about this place? I think you could’ve led the tour.”
She shrugged. She’d never mentioned it in email, so it was safe to do so now. “I wrote a fifty-page essay on Longfellow in college.”
Tucker leaned over the inscription on the sundial. “I can’t read it.”
“You don’t speak fluent Italian?” she teased, then caught herself when he turned his crooked smile on her. “It means something like ‘Think that this day will never dawn again.’”
Tucker straightened, and she felt his eyes on hers. She’d felt him watching her throughout the day. On the long boat ride to Boston, over their quick lunch once they’d docked, through the house tour. Did they mean anything, those looks? She was confused.
“Think that this day will never dawn again.”
She thought it was meant to be inspirational, but today the thought depressed her. She wished this day could dawn over and over for all eternity.
She ran her fingers over the sundial, wondering what Tucker was thinking. A bird twittered, serenading them. Tucker was probably thinking about Arielle, wishing she were here instead. Though he had been a lighthearted and entertaining host. He’d made her laugh repeatedly, and Sabrina realized she hadn’t had so much fun in—well, she didn’t remember the last time.
Now, though, an awkward silence had fallen. Even the bird stopped his song, as if waiting expectantly.
She had to break the silence before whatever Tucker expected, whatever she hoped for, happened. “It’s too bad Arielle couldn’t come.” The name of her cousin had an instant dampening effect, at least on her.
“I’m having a great time. You’re a fun and knowledgeable date.” He cocked a grin at her before starting along the path again.
She fell in step beside him. The sun was sinking in the sky, had fallen behind the trees. A mild breeze cooled her skin.
“How about we find an air-conditioned café for a quick supper before we head back?” he said.
“Only if you let me pay my half.” He’d insisted on buying her lunch.
“Have it your way, stubborn.”
She bumped her shoulder into his arm, delighting too much in the sturdy feel of him.
Tucker pulled his car onto Sabrina’s street. Tired though he was from the long day, he dreaded its end. He’d enjoyed Sabrina.
Seeing her in her element, talking about her passion. It made him fall more deeply in love with her. It made him want to end the secrecy between them.
Just tell her you know.
No, I can’t risk losing her.
All the way back on the boat, he’d waffled back and forth.
Back and forth, back and forth. He was about to drive himself crazy with indecision. It wasn’t like him. But the cold, hard facts were that he’d spent another day with Sabrina, and she was no closer to telling him the truth. Whatever it was, whatever was holding her back, it had her by the heart and wasn’t letting go.
Now, he pulled his car into her drive, feeling reasonably settled about the decision he’d reached. He flipped off the ignition and unbuckled his seatbelt.
“You don’t have to walk me up. Arielle’s in bed already,” she said quickly. Sabrina had called twice to check on her cousin.
