Page 29 of Sea La Vie
Gently, I spin her around and pry a plate from her hands. “What are you doing?” she asks, eyebrows arched in suspicion.
“Lainey, you take care of everyone else all the time. Let me take care of you, just this once. Let me wash your dishes.” I hug the plate to my chest and she lunges for it.
“Give it to me!” she squeals, and I lift the plate higher above my head, out of her reach.
I try to ignore the way Lainey is pressed up against me, her sunshine and vanilla scent intoxicating, but when she accidentally steps on my toe, her hands fly out to my hips to steady herself, and there’s no ignoring the feel of her hands against me. They’re still soapy and warm against the bare skin above my jeans, but she doesn’t move. When she tips her head up, her lower lip is caught between her teeth. “Sorry,” she breathes.
“No worries,” I say, setting the plate down behind her but never breaking my gaze from her green eyes. I’m close enough to see the flecks of hazel scattered in them, like confetti. “Let me do this for you,” I say, my voice husky, even to my own ears. Her eyes flit down to my lips, and I take that as my cue. I’ve kissed Lainey before, but so much has changed in a decade, and I can’t wait to see if she still tastes like her favorite vanilla chapstick.
Just as I’m tilting my head for that perfect kissing angle, I hear, “LAINEY ANN ADAMS!”
Lainey immediately pulls her hands from my hips and spins around.
“What in tarnation was this doing on your lamp?!” Lucille shrills, her mouth puckered in disgust. Between her thumb andforefinger, she holds my shirt as if it’s poisonous, then stomps over to me.
“You! I knew you were bad news as soon as you stepped foot in my home.” She pokes a finger at my bare chest. “Taking advantage of our sweet Lainey.” Before I can say anything, Lucille whirls around to face Lainey. “And you! The audacity to bring a boy home and let him stay overnight, let alone one that’s a smoker and a criminal!”
“Lucille,” Lainey says, fighting back a giggle. “He’s not a criminal. And Dave said I needed to keep an eye on him overnight, remember?”
Lucille’s eyes widen, realizing she’s made a mistake. “Well, it’s past ten and that’s more than enough time for him to have left. He’s fine now,” she says, scanning me up and down with narrowed, beady eyes. “I bet he’s robbed every rental on the east coast,” she mutters.
“I don’t smoke,” I reply lamely. Because the truth is, I was just caught red handed trying to kiss Lainey, after barely reconnecting with her. What am I even thinking?
“Apparently, no one ever taught you to respect your elders either,” she huffs and throws my shirt at me, “Put this on, you harlot.”
I open my mouth to protest, but Lainey says, “Why are you standing in my kitchen at ten in the morning, Lucille? Can I help you with something? Is something wrong?”
“First of all, lock your doors. This town’s not safe anymore.” She narrows her eyes again in my direction. “Second of all, I wanted to drop off your stack of flyers for Founder’s Day.”
Lainey peers at her empty hands. “Where are they?” she asks.
“I forgot them,” Lucille says, her nose in the air with righteous indignation.
“Ahh,” Lainey says with a nod. “How about I come get them later this morning?”
Lucille considers this for a moment. “I suppose that could work.” We all awkwardly stand in Lainey’s tiny kitchen, Lucille making no move to leave. She continues staring daggers at me, and it’s enough to make my upper lip break out in a sweat. Who knew this sweet-looking, four-foot-eleven, grandmotherly woman could be so mean?
Finally, Lainey says, “Okay, then…I’ll see you in a little bit, Lucille.”
“I’m timing you,” she mutters, before heading toward the door. Right before she leaves, she glances over her shoulder at me and lets out a little snarl.
“Did you see that?” I ask Lainey after she’s gone. “She definitely growled at me.”
Lainey giggles. “She’s all bark and no bite. I know she just wanted to see if you were still here to update the town and give them some new gossip. They haven’t had anything new to talk about since Eden’s bikini bottoms fell off when she was leaving the beach a month ago.”
“Oof,” I say. “How does that even happen?”
“The string got caught in her beach chair. Anyway, sorry about that,” Lainey says with an apologetic smile. “Lucille’s really not that bad once you get on her good side. Honestly, I think she likes you.”
“There’s no way,” I say. I glance down at my shirt and stretch it over my head. When I pop my head through the opening, I catch the deep crimson flush of Lainey’s cheeks, and my mind starts to wander back to our almost kiss. I glance toward the plate the same time Lainey does. When she reaches for it, I playfully swat her hand away, secretly wishing she’d step on my toe again and give us a chance to finish what we started.
I need to snap out of it. “I’m doing your dishes, Lainey,” I tell her, turning around and plunging my hands in the soapy water,afraid if I don’t, I’ll do something I can’t take back—like wrap them around her and kiss her until I can’t think straight.
“What am I supposed to do? Sit here and watch?” she asks. Her face twists in agony, as if taking a second for herself would kill her.
“Watch me if you want, relax on your couch, read a book, I don’t care. But you’re not doing these dishes,” I say. I dip my hand into the soapy water then flick the bubbles at her. “Shoo.”
Lainey eyes me for a moment and chews on her lower lip. “Thank you, Tate.”
