Sweet Caroline(52)

We all blink at him. He’s looking at us. Is that all? I clear my throat. “See, I told you there were two s’s, Elle.”

Stu snaps up his jar of tea and heads off to the ladies’ room. “You’d think you’d know that, Elle, being an artist and all.”

“Yeah, you’d think I would.” Elle slowly rewrites Stu Green on her list.

“I’m more than a simple plumber, ladies.” Stu spreads his arm with a bow, walking backwards to the bathroom.

When he’s out of sight, I fall against the counter, laughing.





22

On a remote part of St. Helena’s, the beach is lit with dozens of sandbag candles. “J. D., how beautiful.” “Thought you’d like it.” His chest is warm against my back as he cradles me in his arms and kisses my cheek. “Beyond the palmettos is the house my great-granddad built. We use it for family events, and Mom comes out here sometimes. Did I tell you she’s trying to become a novelist?”

“Really? What’s she writing?”

“Who knows?” Wrapping his hand around mine, he leads me down the sandy, candlelit path. “She won’t show anyone. Hungry?”

“Starved. Bubba, this is amazing. Your first major romantic date . . . scoring big points here.”

He glances over his shoulder. “My plan is working.”

Smiling, I cuddle his arm, pressing my face against his bulky muscles. “Ah, there’s a plan? We shall see if it’s working.”

Since our hot-and-heavy Christmas-movie night, he’s been respectful and patient. Tonight, though, looking over the romantic beach setting, a fleeting thought of his patience wearing thin breezes through my mind.

At the end of the candles path, a small fire burns. There’s a blanket, a picnic basket, and a boom box playing something soft and classical.

The serenity of the twilight sky and ocean surround us.

“Sit here.” J. D. points to a spot on the blanket with a bow. “How does milady feel about steak and shrimp?”

“Your lady feels wonderful about steak and shrimp.” I shake the sand from my flip-flops before stepping on the blanket.

“How do you like your steak?”

“Medium.” I open the picnic basket to find treasures from the Café. Andy’s apple crumb cake, baked beans, Bubba’s Buttery Biscuits. And a jug of tea. “You sneak, how’d you order this without me knowing?”

He raises his brow. “I have my ways.”

He grills and I set up. As usual, he gets me laughing over some deputy story and I tell him about Mercy Bea finding a critter in the pantry.

“She went screaming through the dining room. Like she’s never seen a rat before.”

I have to admit, it freaked me out too. But not for Mercy Bea to see.

“Don’t tell me, the exterminator comes in the morning.”

“First thing. Darn the cost too.”

Talk is light through dinner. J. D. is fun to hang out with, but when he sets his plate aside and scoots in behind me, wrapping his arms around me, all the dormant passions ignite. I’m not sure how long “no” can linger on my lips. We are very alone here.

His chin rests on my shoulder. “Caroline, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” I twist to see his face. His brown eyes reflect the fire’s flame.

“I was wondering . . .” He plants a warm kiss on my neck.

My heart pumps. Is he going to ask me to decide tonight? Here? Now? “Wondering?”

He smiles, slowly, peering into my eyes. “Let’s move in together. I care about you, Caroline. We’re good together, and I’d like to see if we could make a life of us.”

If my heart wasn’t pumping before, it is now. “Live together? You and me. Like, move in over the weekend or sometime?”

The wind brushes my hair over my face. J. D. smoothes it away.

“Yeah, the weekend or sometime. Look, babe, I understand your hesitancy in letting me stay over. This is just a way to let you know I’m going to be there in the morning. I don’t think we’re ready for marriage, so this is a great compromise. See how we do together, you know?”

Do together? So far, except for sex, we do together just fine. Laugh at each other’s jokes, listen to end-of-workday stories.

“I don’t know, J. D.” My stomach cramps a little. Can we go back to just sleeping over?

“Think about it.” He holds my face to kiss me, as if reminding me what awaits if I say yes.

“O-okay, I will.” I whisper to the God I hope exists. Help. “Do you love me, J. D.?”

“I’m getting there.”

A soft knock sounds on the door. “Caroline, it’s Stu.”

The plumber pops through the office door and collapses in the chair opposite my desk. He runs his rough, dirty hand through his dark, thick hair so it stands on end.

“Well?” I brace for the blow. The bad news. Needs more work. Costs more money.

“The twa-lette rooms are done.” Stu shakes his head slowly. “I think Houdini installed the plumbing first go-’round.”

“Hard job?” As if I didn’t know. Any closer to his liturgy of four-letter words and I’d have curly hair. I shouldn’t have teased Elle into put-ting him on her list. “What’s the damage?”