Where Your Heart Is (Lilac Bay Book 1) (17 page)

BOOK: Where Your Heart Is (Lilac Bay Book 1)
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A tear slipped down my cheek, and I cursed under my breath. I hated crying, especially in front of other people. But David didn’t say a word about it. He merely brushed it away with the pad of his thumb and leaned in a little closer. Immediately, all thoughts of crying ceased. Because I could see the flecks of blue in his grey eyes, could make out every golden lash. And his lips were right there, inches away. This boy who had befriended me all those years ago when I was alone and afraid. The boy who’d given me my first kiss. Who had taken my heart.

The boy who seemed ready to take it all over again.

I leaned into him, his eyes flitting down to my lips, and I felt a surge of triumph in my chest. He wanted to kiss me, too, I knew he did, and in just a second—

David froze, his eyes widening, terror clear in his face.

“What?” I asked, immediately pulling away to look around, half expecting to see a marauding band of pirates invading the cove from the level of fear in his eyes.

“Don’t move,” he whispered though clenched teeth, gripping my hands tighter.

“David, what’s the matter?”

“There’s a spider,” he said, his jaw barely moving, his face rigid.

“Where?” I turned my head, left and right, trying to locate the spider, and David groaned a little.

“In you hair.”

I reached up. Now that he mentioned it, I did feel something on my forehead. I brushed it aside and David screamed—he actually screamed, out loud, the sound shockingly high pitched and close to my ear.

“God, David,” I said, rubbing my ear with my other hand. The spider, a pretty minuscule black thing, had climbed onto my thumb when I touched my forehead, so I moved to brush him off.

“In the water!” David squealed. “Knock it in the water!”

“I’m not going to
drown
him,” I argued, completely bewildered by his behavior. Was he trying to be funny? “It’s just a tiny little spider, it’s no big—” I held out my hand to show him how small it was. Big mistake. David scurried backward, crab style, with seemingly inhuman speed, knocking his bottle of water into the bay.

“I don’t want to see it!”

“Okay!” I stood very slowly, hoping not to spook him. He had anchored the boat near the shoreline, right under a birch tree, so I reached up for the branch above my head—probably where the thing had come from, come to think of it—and carefully placed the spider on one of the leaves. “There. All gone.”

“It’s not gone!” He covered his head with his hands and ran to the opposite side of the boat. “It’s up there!”

“David, what’s your deal?” I felt a sudden thrill of fear. Maybe this was one of those things I wasn’t getting because I was a mainlander. “Is it poisonous?”

“How would I know?” he shouted, sounding half hysterical.

Okay, he was really freaking out. “David—”

“Oh God, what if there are more?” he moaned, running his hands along his arms and legs. “We were sitting under that tree for hours.”

“We were under the tree for twenty minutes—”

But it was no use. Certain there were still spiders hiding on him, David took a deep breath and jumped from the front of the boat into the water. “David!”

He ducked under the water, running his hands through his hair, then repeated the action. And again. And again. “Do you think I got them all?”

“There are no other spiders!” I called out. “What are you doing? Get back in the boat!”

“I’m not getting back on there. What if they’re on you?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I muttered, swinging over the rail at the front of the boat so I could jump down and join him. I found my footing on the bottom and dunked my shoulders down under the water. “There. Better?”

“It was in your hair.”

“Fine!” Without thinking about much of anything except for the panic on his face, I ducked my whole head under the water. It actually felt pretty good, all things considered, the water cool against my face, my hair floating out around my head. When I surfaced, David had come a few feet closer.

“Maybe do that one more time,” he said, his voice slightly more calm. I sighed and repeated the motion, twice, for good measure. When I surfaced the second time, I wiped the water from my face. “Better?”

“Yeah.” He sounded very sheepish. Pretty embarrassed, actually.

“David, what
was
that?”

“I uh, was just, you know, trying to get you to put your face under. Consider it a ninja teaching move.” But he wouldn’t meet my eyes. Was he blushing?

“David.”

“Fine.” He blew out a deep breath. “I might be slightly afraid of spiders.”


Slightly
?”

He grimaced. “I’m fucking terrified, okay?”

I slapped a hand over my mouth, determined not to laugh at him. After all, he hadn’t laughed when I told him about my phobia. But he looked so darn cute, his face red, fists clenched in embarrassment or the remains of fear. I thought of the high-pitched scream he’d let out a few minutes before and had to bite my lip.

But he was still talking, getting more and more agitated, apparently. “Spiders are to me what water was to you three weeks ago. Okay? Happy now? David Jenkins is a giant baby and you can go and tell all of the ladies of the Libbies and let them laugh and—”

David’s rant was cut off abruptly. That’s what happens when someone throws her arms around your neck and starts kissing you. To his credit, his shock only seemed to last a moment. Then he was kissing me right back, his lips warm and insistent against mine, his hands immediately going up into my hair.

“What’s that for?” he murmured against my mouth.

“You’re really cute, David Jenkins,” I whispered back.

“Because I’m scared of spiders?”

“Because you’re you.” I could feel his lips stretch into a grin against mine, and then he was kissing me again, pulling me close, the waters of Lilac Bay lapping gently around us.

Chapter 14


I
just want
to know where he’s taking you,” Sherry said. “That’s all, then I’ll leave you alone.”

“I don’t know where he’s taking me,” I replied, with as much patience as I could manage. Okay, so telling the Libbies that I had a date with David had been a mistake. But it was hardly my fault. At the last meeting, the recipe had been for pudding shots. Since everyone was too impatient to let them set, we’d ended up drinking the concoction of pudding mix, milk, and vodka like milkshakes. Needless to say, I was laughing about David Jenkins’ amazing ass with the rest of them after only a few sips. And the whole “We made out in Blackbeard’s Cove, and now we have a date” part had just kind of followed. Damn pudding-shot milkshakes.

They were also responsible for my attendance behind the Libbies’ lemonade stand at the Flower Festival the night of said date. There was no way I would have agreed to this sober.

“I just can’t believe he’s actually taking you on a date,” Riley sighed. “He never takes anyone out. On a date! A real date!”

“We’re staying on the island,” I pointed out. “It’s hardly going to be five-star entertainment.”

“Are you complaining?” Libby asked, aghast. “In ten minutes, David Jenkins is going to show up here to pick you up and take you out for an evening of staring at his gorgeous biceps. At the end of which, he might stick his tongue down your throat. And you’re complaining?”

“Nope,” I said quickly. When she put it that way, a little time at the Flower Festival didn’t seem like that big of a deal. I was definitely the luckiest girl in Town Square that night.

“Ugh,” Cora muttered, pushing on my arm. “There’s that look again. I liked it better when you were complaining.”

“What look?”

“That mooning, I-know-what-David-Jenkins’-make-out-game-is-like look. It’s not fair.”

“Sorry,” I said quickly, doing my best to wipe the smile off my face. Luckily, a good-looking, very male tourist approached our booth for some lemonade, distracting the ladies as they fell over each other to help him. Until his wife appeared at his side, at which point, they all lost interest. “There’s your change,” Libby muttered morosely, handing him a quarter.

“So what’s the deal with this,” I asked, looking around the square. “I thought the Lilac Festival didn’t start for two weeks.” I should know the date. Zane was absolutely obsessed with us getting the restaurant open by then. A soft open, only for dinner and a very limited menu. But open all the same. Everyone knew the festival was one of the biggest tourist draws of the whole season, second only to the Cherry Festival in July. If we wanted to turn a profit that summer, opening for the Lilac Festival was pretty vital.

I followed up my question with a sip of lemonade, so it took me a moment to realize that they were all staring at me in horror. “This isn’t the Lilac festival,” Sherry finally stuttered.

“I thought you said it—”

“It’s the
Flower
Festival.”

I looked around at their incredulous faces. “You mean they’re not the same thing?”

“No!” They chorused.

“Well, what’s the difference?” I asked, feeling more than a little defensive about the way they were gaping at me in horror.

“The Lilac Festival is the most important week of the year,” Libby explained.

“I thought the Cherry Festival—”

“The Cherry Festival is bigger,” Sherry said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “But that’s focused over in Traverse City. That’s where most of the orchards are. We only have the two and—,” she stopped herself, as if she could sense my growing disinterest. How many festivals did these people need, anyhow?

“The cherries bring in more tourists,” Libby explained. “And it’s very fun and good for the economy of the whole area. But the Lilac Festival is all ours.”

“Because of the name of the island?”

“Well, duh!” Riley cries. “Haven’t you ever heard the legend of the island? Seriously, Iris, how don’t you know about the lilacs?”

I felt my heart sink, certain I was about to get a long lesson on the legend and history of the lilac flowers. I wasn’t sure I could take it.

“Oh, Iris,” a warm, very masculine voice murmured behind me. “You don’t even know about the lilacs?”

I spun around, all negative thoughts fleeing, to see David standing outside our booth, looking down at me with a grave expression. But his eyes seemed to be dancing in the light of the lanterns strung up in the trees around us, and I felt a little thrill in my chest. I wished he would kiss me.

“Hey, David,” several voices called from behind me in the booth, and I mentally shook myself. I had almost forgotten the Libbies were there, and I certainly didn’t want to be kissing David in front of them. I would never hear the end of it.

“We were just trying to explain to Iris about the Lilac Festival,” Jill explained, pushing herself up to my side. Was I imagining it, or had she somehow managed to undo two more buttons in the last ten seconds? David merely grinned at me, his eyes dancing.

“Leave it to me, ladies,” he said, and I could practically hear the sound of ovaries exploding at his charming tone. “I’ll make sure she has all the details if you let her off her shift a few minutes early.”

Fantastic. Not only was I going to get out of a lecture on the town’s history, but he was saving me from lemonade duty, as well. As if any of them were going to say no to him about anything.

Sure enough, five minutes later, David and I were walking through the square, away from the Libbies’ lemonade booth, their giggles about his ass that wouldn’t quit following us across the lawn.

“Thanks for that,” I told him. “I wasn’t really in the mood for twenty minutes of town history.”

“Excuse me,” he said. “Are you under the impression I was lying back there? I take my responsibility to preserving island historical knowledge very seriously.”

I looked up, a laugh on my lips, to see that his face was entirely sincere. “Oh, Jesus,” I moaned. “Fine, go ahead. Kill me with boredom before our date even starts.”

“Speaking of that,” he said, coming to a stop. He took my hand, pulling me around to face him. “You look lovely, Iris.”

“Thank you.” Posey had been, if possible, more excited about my date than I was. She and I spent a solid hour that afternoon getting ready. I’d hoped she’d be at the Lilac—sorry, Flower Festival, but Paul had some medical networking party back on the mainland. She hadn’t seemed exactly happy about it when I left Lilac Ridge.

Before I could tell him any of that, he took my shoulders in his big hands and leaned down to kiss me, right there in the middle of the square. The Libbies booth exploded in catcalls behind us, and David laughed against my mouth. “I told you those ladies were a menace.”

“I should have listened.”

“How’d you get roped into this, anyhow?”

“There was alcohol involved.”

“I shouldn’t have even asked.”

He released my shoulders but took my hand in his, leading me across the square toward Main Street on the far side. “So where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise. But we have a few minutes if you want to look around the festival a bit.”

“Sure.”

We walked from booth to booth, checking out the snacks and knick-knacks for sale along with multiple vendors selling flowers. As we went, David explained the importance of the festival. “So in a few weeks, we’ll have the Lilac Festival,” he said, “which is our oldest event and really important.”

“Why would you have a Flower Festival two weeks before the Lilac Festival?” I asked. “Isn’t that redundant?”

“It’s symbolic. Once the lilacs start blooming on the island, no one cares about any of the other flowers. This is their chance to shine before the real stars of the summer arrive.”

“Seriously?”

He nodded. “We have the Flower Festival so everyone can celebrate the tulips and the daffodils and whatever else is growing. Because once the lilacs show up, no one gives a damn.”

“Poor little tulips,” I said as we passed a particularly pretty bouquet of light pink ones.

“Indeed.”

“And why are the lilacs such a big deal?”

“There’s a legend,” he explained, “about how the lilacs got here. And that’s why the island has its name.”

“And you’re going to make me listen to it, aren’t you?”

He laughed, pulling my hand a little closer to his body. “Not tonight. Tonight, we have big plans.”

“Yeah?” I asked hopefully. “You going to tell me about them?”

“I’m going to show you. But needless to say, it’s going to be incredibly fun and impressive.”

I grinned. “I can hardly wait.”

Ten minutes later, we were standing in the middle of the senior center, and I was starting to get an idea of just what David considered fun and impressive. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?” he asked, pulling on a pair of blue and red striped shoes. “You don’t like to bowl?”

“In the senior center gym?” I asked incredulously. “With a dozen octogenarians. Including my grandparents. This is your idea of an impressive date?”

“What can I say?” he asked, grinning up at me. “I really know how to show off for the ladies. Here, put on your shoes.”

“We’re not even in a bowling alley,” I pointed out, sitting down and taking the shoes from him. I didn’t want to sound like I was complaining, but… “Why do I need special shoes?”

“I mean, if you want to try to bowl in those things, be my guest.” He cast a disparaging glance at my wedge heels. “It will just make my victory even more of a sure thing.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. He thought it was a sure thing, huh? Apparently, David didn’t remember quite how competitive I could be. I pulled on the disgusting shoes and joined him at the front of the makeshift lane. “You know how to do this?” he asked.

“I’ll figure it out.”

He smirked, grabbing a ball from the rack separating our lane from our neighbors, and hurled it down the gym floor. “Nice shot, David!” my grandfather called from across the room.

“Thanks, Frank!”

“I cannot believe this,” I said to myself, sighing. I’d been daydreaming about this date all week. And we were bowling. In a gym. With Mimi and Pops.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked when I moved to grab my own ball.

“I thought it was my turn. Since you’re just standing there.”

“I’m waiting for my ball. This isn’t big-city Chicago bowling, missy. We don’t have a machine to return the balls.”

“You think there’s such a thing as big-city bowling?”

A moment later, Jerry appeared at our side, holding David’s ball. “Here you are, son. Oh, Iris! It’s so nice to see you!”

“Nice to see you, too, Jerry. How are the chickens?”

His face lit up. “Oh, just fantastic,” he began, but someone called his name. “Oops, better be off. Lots of balls to fetch.”

I watched as he shuffled his way across the gymnasium to gather someone else’s bowling ball. “This is the set up?” I asked, aghast. “Jerry running around picking up the balls?”

David laughed. “There are a few guys volunteering. They take turns.”

“Insanity,” I mumbled, but David ignored me and stepped up to the line. This time, he knocked down the rest of his pins. I didn’t know much about bowling, but he certainly looked pretty good at it. Or, at the very least, he looked good while doing it.

After Jerry trotted forward with his ball, it was finally my turn. “You know what you’re doing?” David asked.

“I throw the ball down there and try to knock over some pins. Not rocket science.”

He grinned, waving his hands toward our lane. “Then be my guest.”

I walked up to the line and glanced down the lane toward the pins, trying to decide on the best course of action. There was probably some kind to trigonometry involved here. Or was that pool? Before I could make up my mind, David was standing behind me, close, his breath warm on my neck. “Have I told you that you look cute in bowling shoes?”

I snorted. “You’re totally trying to distract me, mister.”

“You need to learn how to take a compliment, Iris.”

I stuck out my foot, as if to demonstrate how ridiculous I looked. My carefully chosen skirt and jacket combo wasn’t holding up well against the bright purple bowling shoes.

“Get out of my way,” I ordered, and David laughed, moving back to the folding chair at the end of our lane.

“You sure you don’t want any tips?”

“Shut up,” I said through gritted teeth, concentrating. Well. When in doubt, I supposed it was best to just throw as hard as possible. I let go of the ball with a grunt and watched as it sailed down the lane, bouncing once, before knocking over all of my pins.

“Yes!” I cried, raising my arms triumphantly over my head. “I’m winning!”

“Nice job, Iris, love!” Mimi called from across the gym, several of her friends echoing the sentiment. “My granddaughter,” I heard her saying in a carrying voice. “Visiting me from Chicago.”

I turned to grin at David. “Well?”

“Beginner’s luck.” But he was beaming at me.

“Very nice, Iris,” Jerry said, returning with my ball. He was looking decidedly red-faced now and more than a little out of breath.

“Maybe you should take a break, Jerry,” I told him.

“We’re almost done, anyhow,” he told me, grinning before trotting off again, much more slowly this time.

“Almost done?” I asked David, who walked over and took my ball, setting it back on the rack.

“We kind of showed up at the end.”

“But it’s only seven,” I pointed out.

“Which is practically bedtime for this group. Come on, I need your help with something.”

“I think you’re just trying to get me off the field,” I told him. “Because you know I’m going to beat you.”

“There’s no field in bowling.” He slung an arm around my shoulder and led me across the room. “But you’re right. I’m pretty sure you were going to kick my ass.”

It took a long time to cross the gym. Half the bowlers wanted to say hi, either to me or to David. Even the old ladies seemed to want a piece of him. I nestled into his side a little, feeling giddy. Everyone in town had something good to say about David Jenkins. And he had chosen me.

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