Summer at the Shore (Seashell Bay Book 2) (13 page)

“We’re all here too,” Morgan said. “Erica Easton, Tessa Nevin, Jen Cassidy, and me.” Erica and Jen were strapping lobster fishermen, while slightly built Tessa was replacing Lily, who’d pulled out a couple of days ago with a sore wrist. “Our guys are Bram and Aiden Flynn, and Kevin and Ryan Butler. Miss Annie’s our coach, of course.”

“Keeping it in the family, huh?” Brett said with a confident-looking grin. “The Flynns and the Butlers. Nice.”

Because Fire Chief Laughlin always insisted on joining the firefighter team, Morgan felt duty bound to have someone on hers from the older generation. Ryan’s dad always volunteered for the job. A big, rugged lobster fisherman, he always held his own against the fire chief’s pulling strength.

“Well, each team’s combined weight is within thirty pounds of the other,” Micah said. “Are we good to go?”

Brett nodded.

“Yep,” Morgan said, glancing toward Ryan and Aiden. Ryan caught her eye and grinned. Her heart pounding
harder with nerves and excitement, Morgan shook hands with Brett before she headed over to her team.

Aiden handed her a piece of paper. “Here’s the order.”

She’d picked the team, but Morgan had let Aiden determine the lineup since he had a better handle on tactics. She hoped Aiden had put her in the middle of the pack to compensate for her relative weakness. Of all the islanders in the event, only Tessa was a less powerful puller.

Morgan repressed a sigh. Aiden had put her in the number seven spot, right between him and Ryan. As usual, her old pal was getting up to mischief by pairing her with Ryan. The rest of the line consisted of Jen, Kevin, Tessa, Erica, and Bram, in that order. Morgan got them all organized and then went to her spot near the end of the rope. Ryan was there talking to his parents.

“You look lovely today, Morgan,” Julia Butler said with a warm smile. “Your skin is always so beautiful.”

With her hair still wet from the dunk tank and with zero makeup, Morgan knew that wasn’t true. But Julia was the nicest person on the planet.

“Thanks, Mrs. Butler. We’re sure happy to have Ryan on the team this year.”

“If only he could be here all the time instead of gallivanting all over the world,” Julia said with a wistful sigh.

“Julia Butler, that is so much malarkey,” her husband said. “Our boy is fighting the good fight like he always does. And that’s a damn sight more important than catching people’s dinner.”

Ryan gave his dad a fist bump.

Julia wrinkled her nose at her husband, then smiled. “Don’t get me wrong, Morgan. I’m so proud of Ryan I could burst. But I just miss him so. Watching him get on
that ferry and leave again is always the worst day of the year for me.”

Ryan wrapped his mother in a tight hug. “But I always come back, Mom. And I always will.”

Morgan was thrilled he had such a close, loving family, but the sweet exchange hit her like a punch in the stomach. God, she missed her parents. She would miss Ryan too, more than she cared to think about.

Fortunately, Micah blew his whistle before she could get too maudlin.

“Come on, guys, let’s go,” Aiden ordered, holding the rope in his big hands.

“Yes, time to get the lead out, people,” Miss Annie said as she bustled down the line, giving her team friendly pats on the butt. “Let’s wipe the grins off those smoke eaters’ faces.”

“Duty calls,” Ryan said. After he kissed his mom and got in position as anchor, his dad moved forward to take up his place near the head of the line.

When Ryan wrapped the end of the thick rope around his waist and let the remaining few feet trail behind him, Morgan shook her head. “You can’t wrap the rope around your waist. That’s not quite in keeping with the rules for the anchorman, dude.”

Ryan lifted an eyebrow. “Really? Well, you’re the pro.” He unwrapped the rope and handed it to her. “Show me,” he said in a deep, low voice that made it sound like he might want to do something far sexier with the rope than just play tug-of-war.

Oh, boy.
Rope and Ryan Butler was not a combo she should be thinking about.

“Okay, it goes underneath your arm, like this.” Morgan
threaded the rope under his arm and circled behind him. “And up over your other shoulder, like so.” She couldn’t help running her palm down his bicep before she looped the rope back under his arm again so the loose end trailed behind him. “That’s what the rules require,” she finished, a tad breathless.

When she touched him, Morgan swore she could feel sparks—and a whole lot of glorious hard muscle.

“If you say so, boss lady,” he murmured. “But I figure there are plenty of other rules we can break.”

Morgan moved into position, hyperaware of his presence behind her. “Get your mind out of the gutter, anchorman,” she flung over her shoulder.

“Get your mind
into
the game, Ryan Butler,” Miss Annie scolded as she came down the line to them. “You too, Morgan Merrifield. Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on between you two.”

Morgan had to bite back a groan, but Ryan just chuckled at the reprimand.

Roy took a couple of steps forward as if to talk to Miss Annie but instead leaned in toward Aiden. “I got twenty-five bucks riding on you guys, so don’t let me down. That’s a lot of money to a senior citizen, sonny.”

Morgan knew Rocket Roy wouldn’t be the only islander who’d placed a bet on the outcome.

As Aiden reassured the old man, Morgan clutched the rope tightly and dug her feet as hard as she could into the short grass. She kept her eyes glued on Micah, standing off to the side and clearly about to whistle the start of the match.

“Your ass is seriously distracting me, Merrifield,” Ryan murmured in her ear. “If you had a dime in the back
pocket of those jeans, I bet I could tell if it was heads or tails.”

Lord, help me
. Morgan tried to ignore the little flutters in her stomach. “That excuse isn’t going to cut it if we lose, Soldier Boy,” she hissed, glancing back.

She didn’t know whether his amused grin infuriated or excited her. Both, she guessed.

When Micah blew the whistle, whoops and cheers erupted all around the field. “Pull!” yelled Miss Annie at the exact moment that Boone Cleary boomed out the same command to his team.

Morgan pulled on the rope with all her strength, but it felt like cement under her hands. Nothing moved either way as both teams strained for advantage. “Pull!” Miss Annie yelped again, trying to get their rhythm going.

Morgan kept her eyes fastened on Aiden’s back and strained at the rope.

“Come on you no-good Flynn boys, pull!” Miss Annie bellowed. For a little old lady, she had quite the set of pipes.

The crowd’s cheering seemed pretty evenly split, though Morgan was so focused on trying to maintain a solid grip on the rope that she was barely aware of more than a jumbled roar. When she looked down the line at the firefighters on the other side of the moat, she saw something that made her blink. She swore she could see genuine surprise on their faces, especially Brett’s. Those guys always figured they had the tug-of-war contest in the bag, but maybe not this time.

After a few tense moments, her team fell into a good rhythm, with Ryan and Aiden leading the way with huge pulls. At Miss Annie’s barked commands, each pull was
followed by a barely perceptible moment of relaxation before another hard yank on the rope. While it felt to Morgan like she wasn’t doing much of the work, she knew it wasn’t true. A team couldn’t win the match without all eight pullers doing their jobs. She’d be damned if she would be the weakest link—not when they had a real shot at winning.

And
especially
not in front of Ryan.

“Harder!” Miss Annie shouted. “We’re gaining ground!”

As Morgan strained, she glanced down the line. Miss Annie was right. It hadn’t felt like she’d moved, and yet the center marker looked like it was now at the edge of the moat on her team’s side. Across the gap, the fire chief’s face was as red as his engine as he strained at the rope.

Behind her, Ryan’s breath came in harsh, rhythmic pants. He was like a tractor behind her—a huge, powerful machine set in slow reverse. With each pull, Morgan now had to take a half step back to keep her balance. She got a renewed burst of energy and doubled down as hard as she could.

They had the firefighters on the run, and the crowd was going crazy. Morgan had never heard anything like it—probably because her team had never had as much of a chance of winning before.

“Put your back into it, Bram Flynn!” Miss Annie was jumping up and down like a terrier on steroids, screaming into Bram’s ear.

“I am, Miss Annie!” Bram shouted back. “We’re kicking their asses.”

“You bet we are!” Miss Annie crowed.

“We? I don’t see you yanking that rope,” Roy said
loudly from right behind the old gal. “Stop distracting the boy.”

Miss Annie shot her soul mate a glare that promised future retribution, but then swung her attention back to the line, calling out encouragement.

As hard as she was trying, Morgan felt like she was mostly just hanging on. With each mighty pull from Ryan, she had to scramble back. His strength was freaking amazing.

“One or two more and they’re done,” Ryan growled. “Put everything you’ve got into it, Merrifield.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing so far, you lunkhead?” Morgan panted back.

“Pull!” Miss Annie shouted.

Morgan leaned hard onto her right foot, gave a mighty heave, and felt her balance give way. She was falling. Instinctively, she let go of the rope and flailed her arms in a last-ditch attempt to stay on her feet. But it was no use. She was headed down.

Suddenly, a pair of strong arms circled her chest, pinning her against the rock-solid body beneath her, shielding her from a hard tumble.

Unfortunately, the rest of her teammates weren’t so lucky. They tumbled like a row of bowling pins. Aiden and Bram went down in a tangle of long arms and legs, Bram ending up facedown in the dirt and grass.

“Jesus Christ,” Bram yelped as he lifted his head and glared at Aiden, who was laughing his ass off. Poor Bram spit out a mouthful of grass. “What the fuck are you doing, bro? Trying to break my neck?”

Miss Annie smacked him on the back of the head. “Stow that nasty language, Bram Flynn.”

“Don’t be such an old biddy, Annie,” Sean said as he helped his son up. But he was laughing almost as hard as Aiden.

“Are you okay?” Ryan asked, his breath warm on Morgan’s ear. His big hands were clasped tight under her breasts, and she was pretty sure a very solid erection was nudging into her butt.

“I think so,” she managed. “If you let me up, I’ll find out.”

The crowd was cheering like the Red Sox had just won the World Series. Julia Butler appeared through the crowd to stand over Morgan and her son. “Morgan, sweetie, are you all right?”

She scrambled to right herself as Ryan finally loosened his grip. Apparently her team had won, since her teammates were going crazy. Miss Annie was hugging Bram, while Roy slapped Aiden on the back. Kevin Butler and Erica Easton were cheering, while Tessa and Jen were jumping around like maniacs.

Morgan dusted herself off. “I’m fine, Mrs. Butler.”

Ryan bounced to his feet and came up behind Morgan. “The ground was a little soft there—it made me go down when I gave that final pull.”

“And took the rest of the team down with you,” Morgan said wryly.

“Hey, we won, didn’t we?” Ryan protested.

“Yes, and you were—”

“Way to go, son,” Kevin boomed out as he clapped Ryan on the back. “Lord, I felt like I had a locomotive pulling me with you and the Flynns at my back.”

“And what about the girls?” Julia said indignantly. “It wasn’t like they were standing there filing their nails, Kevin.”

“Oh, jeez, my big mouth’s getting me in trouble again,” Kevin said, one arm around Ryan’s shoulders and the other around Morgan’s. “But I’m proud of both these young people. They’re the best of Seashell Bay, and that’s no lie.”

Now that was a nice bit of irony. Both Morgan and Ryan had fled the island right after high school, while folks like Kevin and Julia Butler had been pillars of the Seashell Bay community all their lives—and were clearly happy with the choices they’d made.

“Hey, Morgan, are you sure you’re okay?” Ryan asked, frowning down at her.

Morgan faked the biggest grin she could. “After that monster win? Heck, Butler, I couldn’t be happier.”

L
ily and Aiden were definitely having a good time, drinking and dancing at the Saint Anne’s social. Even Sabrina was having fun. Yet to Morgan, absolutely nothing felt right. She’d have split an hour ago if she didn’t have to worry about upsetting her sister.

“Come on, Morgan, it’s about time I got you dancing,” Aiden shouted across the big, round table as the band’s lead guitar player hit the first few thundering chords of “I Love Rock ’n’ Roll.” “You’re the best dancer in the place.”

“Yeah, go for it, Morgan,” Brett Clayton said. “Don’t just sit there moping all night.” Brett, there with Laura Vickers, could always be counted to throw fuel on any fire.

Lily shot Brett a glare before grasping Aiden’s hand as he got up. “Let her be, Aiden. She’s tired.”

Aiden grinned down at his bride-to-be. “Okay, then, I guess you’ll have to do.” He tried to pull Lily to her feet, but she wasn’t budging.

“Punch him, Lily,” Sabrina piped up with a giggle. The three beers she’d drunk had clearly anaesthetized most of her shyness and jittery nerves.

Lily finally got up. “Sabrina, I assure you I have much better punishments in mind for my betrothed later tonight.”

“Promises, promises,” Aiden muttered as he swept an arm around his fiancée’s trim waist and led her into the throng of dancers.

“They’re so sweet together, aren’t they?” Sabrina said with a wistful smile. “Aiden just loves her to death.”

“Nothing could be sweeter.” Morgan belted down a swallow of beer from her Solo cup. She loved her friends with all her heart and liked to have a good time as much as anybody, but tonight she felt like a millstone around their necks. She just couldn’t shake her gloom. What had been a dreadful financial outlook for the B&B was now bordering on the catastrophic, and all it had taken was one lousy phone call.

Until then, it had been a pretty good day. She’d made it through her dunk tank duty, her team had won the tug-of-war challenge, and then she’d enjoyed a late barbecue lunch with Lily before watching the afternoon parade with Sabrina and the rest of the crowd that had lined Island Road. Led by the pair of big red trucks from the volunteer fire department, the parade had been a Seashell Bay tradition since before Morgan was born.

But not long after she and Sabrina got back from the parade, any joy she’d taken from the day had evaporated like morning fog under a hot sun. Without divulging any of the details, Kerwin Longstreet had called to inform her that his daughter’s fiancé had called off the wedding. That meant he’d have to release all the rooms he’d booked at Golden Sunset for family and guests.

Morgan had almost dropped the phone to the floor.

She’d felt an immediate stab of sympathy for the bride, of course, but then she’d shuddered as the implications for Golden Sunset sank in. Only when Kerwin baldly asked if she could see fit to refund his deposit had her mind snapped back into sharp focus. In better days, she might have entertained giving him a partial refund. Not now though. Not even if it meant losing Longstreet’s future business. While the deposit wasn’t huge compared to what she would have made from all those occupied rooms, she needed every penny of it.

What future business would there be to lose anyway? Her hopes of meeting the mortgage and paying the bills until the end of August were dashed. Closure had gone from a frightening possibility to a devastating probability.

Morgan hadn’t thought about much else since the call. She hadn’t told Sabrina yet because she was still searching for some way to reassure her that this setback wasn’t going to constitute a fatal blow. But Sabrina was the furthest thing from stupid, and Morgan knew that dog wasn’t going to hunt. Still, she’d decided to let her sister have some fun tonight and delay sharing the bad news until tomorrow.

She let out a small sigh and watched her friends rock out on the dance floor. Aiden had been right about one thing—Morgan liked to dance. And she was pretty good at it too. When they were teens, she and Sabrina had spent endless hours listening to rock music on their boombox and dancing all over their house. And in college, Morgan had signed up for every dance class she could take. In fact, as a teacher, she always included a dance component in her classwork, no matter how young her students. She supposed that was one thing she could look forward to if
Golden Sunset went down the tubes—at least she could teach again.

“Jeez, look who just walked in the door,” Sabrina whispered in Morgan’s ear. “I guess he can’t stay away from a party. Or, to be more accurate, from you.”

Morgan whipped her head around toward the double doors that separated the church hall from the foyer. Ryan was leaning against the doorframe, scanning the crowded room. He wore a black silk shirt that showcased his broad shoulders, and tan chinos that made his legs look a mile long. His hair looked wet, as if he’d just showered. He looked so damn crazy hot that Morgan practically had to start fanning herself.

Had Ryan really decided to show up to be with her? Maybe he just wanted to dance and flirt with the other women there, which was a truly horrifying thought. She told herself she shouldn’t care, but hell yeah, she cared. Heaven help her if he made a beeline for a hottie like Jessie Jameson or Tessa Nevin.

Get a grip, Morgan. Maybe he just wants to hang out with his friends
.

She watched as Aiden caught Ryan’s eye and pointed him toward their table near the center of the dimly lit room. While Morgan had no trouble seeing Ryan since he was standing in the light of the doorway, she doubted that he could make her out yet. Part of her wanted to crawl under the beer-stained tablecloth and hide before he did. And yet another part of her couldn’t help feeling a thrill that he might have come to search her out. It sent her mind racing back to the Blueberry Festival social last year when they’d clung to each other dancing as if they’d made the most astonishing and wonderful discovery in the history
of the entire world. She’d never felt such a powerful and surprising connection, and deep down she wanted it again.

Wanted it to be with Ryan.

Her heart pounding like a trip-hammer, Morgan tracked him as he wove his way through the tables, stopping to chat with his parents who were sitting with Lily’s folks, Father Michael, and some other friends. Was he really going to hang out with the old folks for the evening?

About a minute later, though it seemed like an hour, Ryan gave his mother a peck on the cheek and headed straight toward Morgan.

“Hey, bro.” Brett jumped up and pumped Ryan’s hand before ushering him into some space he’d made between him and Josh. “I’ll grab a chair for you.”

As Brett borrowed a chair from a neighboring table, Ryan shook hands with Josh, then nodded to Laura, Sabrina, and Morgan. His eyes lingered for a moment on Morgan, but if there was any kind of message there, she couldn’t decipher it.

“I guess you didn’t want to ignore us after all,” Sabrina said in the blunt manner she tended to adopt once she got hammered. “I’ll switch seats with you for a price,” she said with a snort.

When Morgan jammed her elbow into her sister’s side, Sabrina responded with a phony wounded look.

Ryan just gave Sabrina a smile.

“Sit down, man,” Brett said, shoving the chair at him. “I’ll get you a beer. Anybody else ready for another?”

Morgan, Sabrina, and Laura all held up their hands. “Jeez, the women on this island are all lushes,” Brett said before heading off.

“He’s right, Ryan,” Sabrina said. “You’d better stay
sober, because the way we’re going, Morgan and I are going to need you to drive us home. Otherwise, Micah will confiscate our keys.”

“Speak for yourself,” Morgan countered. “One more beer and I’m out of here. Ryan can take
you
home if you want to get loaded.
More
loaded, I mean.”

Sabrina grinned and flipped her the bird.

Ryan’s gaze locked onto Morgan. “Hey, whatever you need.”

The sudden flare of heat in his eyes told Morgan there was more than one meaning behind those words. Any doubts she’d had about who he’d come to see evaporated, leaving a flush of warmth in its place.

“You’d better accommodate me too, Ryan Butler,” Laura piped up. “I’m claiming this slow dance with you right now.”

“I thought you’d reserve that honor for Brett,” Ryan said.

Laura flashed him a flirty grin. “I’ve always been more partial to soldiers than lobstermen.”

Though Morgan knew that Laura and Ryan were old friends, it didn’t stop her from feeling insanely jealous at the thought of tall, gorgeous Laura swaying across the floor in Ryan’s arms, clinging to him the way Morgan had last summer.

“You’re on, then, gorgeous,” Ryan drawled, getting up and holding out his hand to Laura.

Morgan couldn’t look at them on the dance floor. She knew she was being a total asshat and a big baby, but she turned to Sabrina and started talking earnestly about trivial details at Golden Sunset. Fortunately, her sister seemed too tipsy to tune in to how she was feeling.

When the song ended and the band’s female singer announced that they’d be taking an extended break, it was time for karaoke, another island tradition for the past couple of decades. Morgan had belted out her share of songs over the years, always rock tunes unless Lily talked her into a duet, in which case she inevitably deferred to Lily’s preference for country. Ryan brought Laura back to the table and then headed off, meeting up with Aiden at the bar.

So much for wanting to spend time with Morgan.

Jessie Jameson, looking cute as a button, fiddled with the karaoke machine while her boss, boatyard owner Mike O’Hanlon, took the microphone as emcee. He started with a mildly off-color joke, earning a reprimand from Father Michael and a laugh from everyone else. “Sorry, Father,” he said with a sheepish grin. “Anyway, everybody knows Roy likes to open the festivities every year with his, ahem, unique version of that Stevie Wonder classic, ‘You Are the Sunshine of My Life.’”

Half the room broke into applause while the other half groaned. Roy cranked himself up out of his chair and gave a low bow. Miss Annie, seated next to him, rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s dramatic gesture.

“Unfortunately, we’re going to have to forgo that wonderful treat tonight,” Mike went on, “because Roy’s throat is acting up on him again. He said he’s got a little head cold, though Miss Annie tells me he got hoarse yelling at the TV last night when the Red Sox were blowing that big lead.”

More laughter from the peanut gallery.

“Hell, no,” Roy groused in a scratchy voice after the din subsided.

“Hell,
yes
,” Miss Annie countered. “Boys will be boys.”

Despite her glum mood, Morgan couldn’t help smiling. It wasn’t a party on Seashell Bay unless Miss Annie and Roy were bickering.

She glanced over at the bar, where Aiden and Ryan seemed to be having a small argument. Whatever Aiden was saying, it made Ryan emphatically shake his head. Aiden kept at him though.

“So who’s ready to kick things off tonight in Roy’s stead?” Mike asked.

Aiden waved a hand. “Ryan and I are going to lead off with a duet, if that’s okay with everybody. Since neither of us has been able to make it back here on July Fourth for years, it’d be a real privilege to give it our best shot. It’s about time, right?”

People in the room started applauding, cheering, and whistling. Ryan seemed pained at first, looking straight at Morgan. The only times she’d ever heard him sing was in the church choir, but his voice had grown deep and rich when they were in high school, bypassing the crackly stage most young guys went through.

Morgan gave him a thumbs-up sign. Ryan rolled his eyes but smiled.

After a quick huddle with Jessie, Aiden looked relaxed in the corner of the dance floor as he held the karaoke mic while Ryan—with the other mic—shuffled his feet, looking embarrassed. It was incredibly endearing as far as Morgan was concerned.

Jessie slid a CD into the machine. The men switched their attention to the small screen in front of them.

“Folks, please don’t take any message from this song
choice,” Aiden said. “It just happens to be one Ryan and I both know.”

Morgan recognized the song from the opening guitar notes—Garth Brooks’s “Friends in Low Places.” She couldn’t help a chuckle, hoping none of her sometimes-prickly fellow islanders would take offense.

Aiden led off with the first verse, and then Ryan joined in on the chorus, adding his smooth bass to Aiden’s baritone in a harmony that sounded pretty good to Morgan’s ears. By the time the men reached the second rollicking chorus, more than half the people in the room were singing along. That clearly surprised Ryan and Aiden, who grinned at each other and started singing even louder. By the time they finished, just about everybody was standing and clapping. Morgan found herself applauding as hard as anybody, while Sabrina stuck two fingers in her mouth and blew an earsplitting series of whistles.

It was a stellar performance, and by the end of it, Ryan had clearly been enjoying himself.

The two guys returned to the table, shaking hands and getting high fives and fist bumps as they passed through the crowd. “Wow,
Ryan
can really sing,” Lily said pointedly to her fiancé.

“Har, har, funny girl.” Aiden said, thumping down onto his chair. “Anyway, I told him I hoped he wasn’t going to let me embarrass myself up there.”

Ryan smiled. “I’ve heard that tune in places so low it would make your hair curl. So I figured I might as well give it a shot when I’m in a room with the people I care about the most.”

He looked straight at Morgan, his expression conveying so much sincerity that she was taken aback. Ryan rarely
gave any glimpses into how he felt about Seashell Bay. Most of the time she thought he’d left the island so far behind that he barely even thought about it anymore.

Suddenly, she felt overwhelmed—by everything. A wave of anxiety swept through her.

“Whew, is it hot in here or is it just me?” she said, struggling to sound normal. “I’m going to have to grab a few breaths of fresh air.”

Lily leaned over to whisper. “Want me to come?”