Surfside Sisters(63)
“So you’re interested in scrimshaw,” a man said. “I never would have guessed.”
Startled—she knew that voice—Keely looked up. Next to the display case stood Sebastian. He was tall and lean and his eyes were a startling blue against his tan. He seemed more grown-up than when she last saw him. His shoulders were so broad…
“Sebastian!” Flustered, knowing she was blushing, Keely babbled, “Yes, I do like scrimshaw, although I don’t own any. Didn’t I read somewhere that because whales are an endangered species, carving on whale teeth or bone is illegal? I certainly hope the artist, who I think is amazing, but anyway, I hope he or she is aware of the laws.”
“I am,” Sebastian said quietly, with a gentle smile.
“You are what?” Was she going mad? She was so attracted to Sebastian she wanted to lean up and kiss him, hard and long.
“I am aware of the laws. Because I’m the artist.”
“What?”
“I’m a scrimshander. The whale teeth in the case are all over one hundred years old and legally documented.” He rested a possessive hand on the back of the case. “They’re expensive, which is why this case is locked.”
“I had no idea,” Keely said.
Sebastian shrugged. “I was working on resin when I was in high school. I was obsessed with this particular art.”
“Doesn’t it take forever to complete?”
“It does.” Sebastian leaned close, smiling down at her. “But I like to do things slowly and surely. I like to take my time.”
Keely went hot all over.
He grinned mischievously.
Keely went weak at the knees.
“I didn’t know you were on the island,” Sebastian said.
“I’m not here for long. I mean, I still have my apartment in New York. I flew home to”—she swiveled her head, checking to see that her mother wasn’t near enough to overhear—“spend some time with my mother. She’s retired and miserable. I hope I can cheer her up.”
“I’m sure you will. And hey, I enjoyed your book.”
“You did? Why?”
“Because you wrote it.”
“Oh.”
“It’s a good book, Keely. Good writing. I enjoyed it, although I wasn’t crazy about the descriptive passages of Hope and Adam having sex.”
Keely blushed deeply. “That wasn’t autobiographical.”
“Yeah, it was.”
He had read her book. He thought she wrote well. He’d read passages she’d written about sex. So much heat surged through her she was afraid she’d explode.
“You seem to know everything about me, Sebastian. I’m impressed. Maybe you can tell me how long I’m going to be on the island.”
“I think you’ll be here for the summer. I think I’ll take you out to dinner like I’ve been waiting to do for a long time.”
Stunned, Keely took a sip of wine to give herself a moment to process his words. Sebastian wanted to take her to dinner.
“Hello, Sebastian.” Eloise approached the scrimshaw display. “I’ve read about your work. Congratulations.”
Keely restrained a sigh of relief. Her mother was as friendly and relaxed as she had always been.
Sebastian leaned forward and kissed Eloise’s cheek. “Mrs. Green, how great to see you. Thanks for coming.”
“Oh, it’s all thanks to Keely. Now that she’s home, I find I’m much more cheerful.”
“You know,” Sebastian said, looking directly into Keely’s eyes, “I feel that way, too.”
“I think she should stay,” Eloise said.
“I agree.” Sebastian’s mouth curled in a smile. “But maybe she’s too much of a city gal now. We’re too provincial for her.”
“You’re one to talk,” Eloise teased. “You lived in Sweden for what, four years?”
Her mother’s lighthearted interrogation of Sebastian gave Keely the courage to say, “And by the way, where is your Swedish girlfriend?”
“Ah, well, she’s remained in Sweden. We’re still friends.”
“Are you really here for good?” Eloise asked.
“I hope so. I’ve bought the print shop out on Old South Road. We do invitations, posters, newsletters, brochures…”
Eloise brightened. “Why, yes, I know right where you are. So you’ve got the shop to support you financially, and I’ll bet in the winter you have plenty of time for your art.”
“Exactly.”
“So tell me,” Eloise asked, “how did you get interested in scrimshaw?”
Keely leaned against the wall, smiling. Her mother seemed to be sliding right back into her normal, friendly self. Maybe Keely could stop worrying.
“Hello, Eloise. Keely.”
Donna Maxwell sailed up in an invisible whirl of perfume and confidence. Keely said hello and stood watching as the two mothers chatted.
And it all came rushing back. How charming Donna was, how charismatic, how blazingly beautiful. She was tall, with the powerful sleek body of a sailor and tennis player, and the sleeveless dress she wore displayed her taut muscular upper arms. Next to Donna, Keely’s mother looked, well, dumpy. Eloise’s months of reclusiveness had allowed her to become doughy and pale. The geometric top Keely had been so happy to see Eloise wear now looked sadly out of style and actually faded next to Donna’s Lilly Pulitzer.