Page 5 of Love & Lattes at The Mermaid Cafe
There’s something else going on here.
I’m struck with a premonition, as if I’ve somehow lost control of a situation and am on a path I hadn’t planned on traveling.
“I’m ready to take you on the Mermaid Bay Legacy Tour, Cade.” Lena’s smile feels stiff but everything else about her is relaxed—a lightweight, teal jacket, blue jeans, half boots. Her dark brown hair is in a twisty bun at the base of her neck. Other than the wind loosening tendrils of hair, she seems unbothered by the wind or cold.
I’m envious of that.
Lena hands me a small paper bag with one of those cake pops that have been so popular the last few years. This one is pink with cat ears. “Happy trails.”
“Tour trails, you mean.” I don’t plan on leaving town anytime soon. But I haven’t had breakfast and eat the cake pop in one bite. It tastes as sweet as I imagine Lena’s lips might. I give her a big smile. “Let’s get this party started.”
“Be careful with this one, Lena,” Angus says, turning away. “He’s trouble.”
“That’s what Marina said,” Lena calls after the retreating sailor, smile warming. “Ready, Cade?”
I nod.
But neither of us move. Lena and I stare at each other too long. I get the distinct feeling that she feels the chemistry between us, too.
But the premonition…
The premonition that I’m no longer in charge persists. And it almost grows strong enough to outweigh the attraction between us.
Almost.
Chapter Five
Lena
There are three kinds of people who come to Mermaid Bay—those seeking its kitschy myths and legends, those looking to fuel up with coffee or a burger before resuming their journey, and those interested in changing my beloved small town into their version of “better.”
I’m convinced good-looking Cade is in the latter category.
Folks in Mermaid Bay have a way of dealing with so-called harbingers of change—by immersing them in our culture and traditions. We call it the Mermaid Bay Legacy Tour, which is code forScare the Meddlers Away.
Poor Cade didn’t know what he was in for.
Yesterday, I’d tallied up his attributes—the good and the bad—and come up with a measly score of two. Two wasn’t troublesome. But Cade is. I take in his measure once more.
Short brown hair sprinkled with gray. It ruffles in the wind. A black polo beneath a black jacket. Both cover his broad, square shoulders. This man doesn’t slouch. His khakis are unwrinkled. His aviator sunglasses hide those expressive eyes.
Impulsively, I reach out and slide those mirrored sunglasses down his nose.
Cade’s brown eyes warm and he smiles at me. “Trouble, reporting for duty, ma’am.”
I smile back, adding five points to Cade’s tally for charm in the face of adversity. He must know we’re at odds. And yet, here he is this morning, ready to face his opposition.
Cade returns his sunglasses to their usual resting place. “Where are we going first?”
“We’re starting at Merry’s Christmas Cheer,” I say. It’s the first business on this end of the boardwalk.
I lead him through the door, setting off a collection of jingle bells on the interior door handle that announce our arrival.
The shop is an explosion of Christmas, today and all year long. There are several Christmas trees positioned on the floor, each decorated with a different theme—mermaids, beach, gnomes, Santa, and more traditional baubles. One wall has a mantle that spans the length of the store. Stocking hangers and more permanent hooks display all styles, sizes, and colors of Christmas stockings.
It's hard to enter Merry’s Christmas Cheer and not feel nostalgic. Not to be brought back to the magic of Christmas morning that was created by my parents.
“Merry Christmas!” Merry calls from the back of the small shop. Even though it’s February, Merry is unboxing a delivery of Christmas angels, setting the white porcelain on the sales counter. “I’ve got a special on sea shell ornaments to the right and a clearance sale of Christmas stockings on the left. Plusshelves full of regularly priced, holiday merchandise, including souvenirs of Mermaid Bay.”
