Summer with a Star (Second Chances Book 1) (4 page)

“Tasha, look.” Spence tapped her shoulder as they stepped out of the rental office with the teenage boy who unlocked the bikes. She twisted to see where he was pointing. “Tandem bikes.”

Sure enough, three tandem bicycles rested against the far end of the patio.

“Let’s get one of those,” Spence said.

Two kinds of butterflies swirled in Tasha’s gut at once—the kind that sensed a romantic scene about to unfold, and the kind that envisioned a collision and wipe-out of massive proportions brought on by a complete lack of coordination.

She laughed. “I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” He nudged her forward, past the nice, ordinary bicycles to the tandems. “I’ve always wanted to ride a bicycle built for two.”

“I can give you one of those if you want,” the boy with the keys said. “You can pay the difference when you get back.”

“Let’s go for it,” Spence said.

The eagerness in his eyes was downright charming. Tasha gritted her teeth. She did not need to foul up her summer more than it already had been by letting a celebrity charm her.

Still, she’d never tried a tandem bike. Brad had thought they were lame, and her brother had craved speed over novelty.

“All right,” she said reluctantly. “But I get to be in front. I want to steer.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Spence agreed.

He finished his drink and tossed his cup as the teen freed one of the tandem bikes for them. Climbing on wasn’t all that different from climbing on a regular bike, with the exception of someone else’s weight keeping it from swaying the way Tasha expected it too as she mounted. She made sure her purse was secure over her shoulder and said, “Ready? One, two, three, go.”

Far more smoothly than she expected, the bike rolled into motion. She settled her feet on the pedals and was pleasantly surprised at how easily they moved.

“Let me know if you want me to go faster or slower,” Spence said behind her.

“Not too fast,” she said, turning onto the main road that led out of town and down toward the beach. “Not until I get the feel for it, at least.”

Summerbury proper was about a mile inland from Summerbury Beach along a tidal river. The town with all its shops and restaurants represented the heart of things, but as they made their way along the sandy bicycle trail that ran parallel to the road, past old houses that had been in families for generations and weathered storms and winters, Tasha felt as though they crossed into the soul of her childhood. Tall pines swayed in the breeze that, even a mile inland, still had the tang of salt in it. Manicured gardens, rich with color, sat next to patches of wild.

“That’s the Beatty’s house,” she told Spence as they passed a tidy Cape Cod set back from the road across a pristine lawn. “Their daughter, Julia, used to babysit us when out parents wanted to go down to Boston for the day.”

“Nice house,” Spence said behind her.

“And up here on the right is the Franklin’s. Mrs. Franklin used to keep bees in the back. Her honey was always one of the best parts of the summer. It was somehow better than any other honey.” She could feel its thick sweetness now, reminding her of what happy tasted like.

“I think I see a hive in the back. She must still keep bees,” Spence said.

“Or maybe one of her kids. She was old even back then.”

They rode on, and maybe it was he tandem bike, but it seemed easier to pedal than when she was a kid, even though she hadn’t been on a bike for years. Why hadn’t she? She’d always enjoyed biking. At least she used to. There hadn’t been time for it in recent years, and Brad hadn’t been interested.

She frowned and concentrated on Summerbury.

“We’re about to reach the pier,” she told Spence. “It’s the beginning of the beach on the north side, the river side. There’s a small marina down here too, for private yachts, but they also have a couple of whale-watching boats that take people out.”

“That would be fun. We should do that sometime this summer.”

His words sent a quick thrill through her that switched just as quickly to something restless. He couldn’t really mean “we,” could he? This was her vacation and his vacation. No “we.”

“That’s Brad’s house,” she said, trying hard to keep the bitterness out of her voice as they rode past a stately brown-shingled house near where the road turned from the base of the marina to run along the beach. “Well, Brad’s family’s house. He doesn’t come out here anymore. At least not that I know of.”

There was a slight pause, then Spence said, “I take it Brad was an old boyfriend?”

One simple question, and her teeth were set on edge.

“Yes,” she answered, jaw tight. If by “old” you meant as of two months ago and dumped for a red-head.

She gripped the handlebars tighter and would have shook her head if she wasn’t trying to balance on a bike.

“Let’s stop for some ice cream at that place right there at the end of the pier.” Spence cut through the mounting tension of Brad.

Yes. Ice cream was definitely a good idea right about now.

“Okay,” she answered and steered toward the pier where the bike path forked.

It was a challenge to slow the tandem bike to a stop and to get off with two people who had different ideas about how it should be done. Spence started getting off to the right and Tasha to the left, wobbling the bike precariously between them. In the end, she did a quick switch and hopped off on his side. Spence was nice enough to wheel the bike to the long rack at the side of the ice cream shop at the beginning of the pier.

“Will the bike be okay here?” he asked as Tasha walked away, toward the front of the square shack of the ice cream shop. “People don’t take stuff like that at the beach?”

“Not the rental bikes,” Tasha answered. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure he was keeping up as she charged on. Spence had a sunbaked glow and his short, dark hair had been tousled during their ride. She felt her temperature rise, whether she wanted it to or not.

“I don’t think the usual variety of bike thieves is interested in clunky, old rental tandems,” she answered.

They stood shoulder to shoulder at the back of the small line for ice cream, studying the hand-painted menu to the side of the service window. It was a pointless exercise for Tasha. She would get chocolate. She always got chocolate. Did that make her boring? Maybe she should branch out and try the blueberry. This was Maine, after all. But she liked chocolate. Why was she even worrying about it? No one was going to judge her for what ice cream flavor she ordered.

“So this Brad guy,” Spence said as they stepped closer to the window. “You met him here when you were a kid?”

The first summer they’d ever come. He was the cool boy with money who could get ice cream whenever he wanted. She’d liked him right away, her first crush.

She answered, “Yes,” hoping to end Spence’s line of questioning right there and save herself from reliving bittersweet memories.

“I’m just trying to get a sense of the timeline,” he told her.

“Good for you.”

He wasn’t deterred by her burst of harshness. “How long did you two date?”

She couldn’t do this. Not even for a celebrity. Not even for a gorgeous, smiling celebrity who seemed like he could be so easy to talk to if she could just unclench. It was a mistake to go out for a ride with him.

“Thirteen years.” She lost her battle to keep to herself.

His eyebrows popped up over his sunglasses. “Thirteen years? You dated for thirteen years?”

“Yes.”

“Dated? Without getting married?”

Heat flooded her, and not the kind that came from thinking a celebrity was cute. All of the anger and regret and shame over how blind she’d been turned her face beet red. He would think she was a fool. Everyone thought she as a fool. Thirteen years, gone.

She peeked down the curve of the beach. Sand Dollar Point was just visible around the edge of a souvenir stand. She could walk home and let Spencer Ellis return the damn tandem bike on his own.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice softer than it had been. “It’s really none of my business. I wouldn’t have asked if I had known it was so….”

She forced herself to face him. “It’s no big deal.”

He shifted his weight and swallowed. “I shouldn’t pry.”

“No.”

Well, she’d loused that up. Next thing, she’d be crying again.

“What’ll it be, folks?” the attendant at the ice cream counter came to her rescue. She could have kissed the woman.

“Chocolate,” Tasha snapped, a little too brusque. She put on a smile and went on with, “On a sugar cone, please. Just one scoop.”

“One chocolate it is,” the attendant said, “and you?” She turned to Spencer. Her eyes narrowed, then widened as she stood straighter.

“I’ll have the same,” he said.

“Two chocolate cones.” The attendant’s voice took on a dreamy quality. “That’ll be five dollars.”

“I’ll pay for mine,” Tasha said.

It was enough to snap the woman behind the counter out of her thoughts as she stared at Spence. She hopped to grab a couple of sugar cones from the box behind her, shaking her head.

“I can pay. It’s no big deal,” Spence said, a little too reminiscent of Brad.

“No. I’ve got mine.” She wasn’t about to be taken in by that kind of generosity again.

It didn’t take long for the ice cream woman to scoop up their two cones, or for them to pay. It also didn’t take long for a rash of whispers to spring up around them as they took their treats to one of the benches overlooking the busy marina.

“So what else did you do with your summers besides ride bikes and eat ice cream?” Spence asked.

Whether he noticed the young couple inching toward them, debating behind their hands and staring, Tasha wasn’t sure. She eyed the couple sideways and answered with a distracted, “We played on the beach, swimming when we were younger, badminton and stuff like that when we got older. There used to be a movie theater in town, but now they only set up a projector and show movies against the side of the boathouse closest to the beach every other weekend. Excuse me,” she interrupted her rambling as the young couple leaned closer. “Can I help you?”

“Are you Spencer Ellis?” the girl asked. She looked like she was about sixteen—the same age Tasha had been when she and Brad first kissed. Her boyfriend nudged her, either scolding or egging her on.

Spence shot a look to Tasha before turning to her with a smile that was far more polite than Tasha would have managed.

“You caught me,” he told her, oozing good nature.

“Oh my gosh, Spencer Ellis! I can’t believe it!” Her voice rose an octave and about fifty decibels. “I can’t believe it’s really you! I’ve seen all your movies. Joe took me to see
Borderline
on our first date. I saw it, like, ten times in the theater.”

“Ten times?” Boyfriend Joe blanched. He flicked a wary glance at Spence, as if he were competition.

“Thanks so much.” Spence met her growing excitement by handing his half-eaten ice cream cone to Tasha with a plaintive look, then standing. “Without you, what we do wouldn’t really matter.”

He opened his arms to hug her. The girl fell in to spasms of giggles, crushing herself against Spence’s chest.

A twinge cut through Tasha’s stomach. She licked her ice cream and seriously considered starting in on Spence’s too. She might need to double-fist it to get through this encounter. The only thing that stopped her was Spence’s awkward smile as the girl continued to squeeze him and blabber.

“Oh my gosh, Joe, Joe, you’ve got to get a picture. Here, take my phone.” The girl kept a death-grip on Spence with one arm and fished through her purse for her phone with the other. Her hand shook as she thrust the phone at Joe. “Take one with your phone too in case anything happens to mine. Oh my gosh, I can’t believe this!”

“Hold still, Monica,” Joe grumbled as he lined up the shot and tapped the girl’s phone. He scowled the whole time.

At least Tasha wasn’t the only one disturbed by the bold request. Then again, Spence didn’t look entirely comfortable, in spite of his charming smile.

“Holy cow, it really is you!”

A trio of young women who couldn’t have been more than twenty-one abandoned their place in line at the ice cream stand. They were all pulling out their phones by the time they reached the bench and Spence.

“Hi,” Spence waved to them, sending Tasha another desperate glance. “Do you guys want a picture too?”

“Yeah,” the trio said in unison.

Tasha scooted down the bench as Monica gave up her place by Spence’s side so that the three could squeeze in for a picture. Joe was roped in to take shots on all three of their cameras. Meanwhile, Monica had her phone up to her ear and was squealing away to someone on the other end.

A cold glob of ice cream from Spence’s cone dropped onto Tasha’s hand. She blinked—at the sudden sensation and in wonder at the scene unfolding in front of her. What the hell? The three young women had to cycle through about a dozen poses with Spence, some of them downright intrusive. They weren’t the only ones. The floodgates had been open, and within a few minutes, every stray tourist on the pier and half the locals were rushing away from whatever they’d been doing to get a look at the movie star.