Beach House Reunion (Beach House #5)(84)

“I would think so, but she’s very busy now, of course.”

“I know, but I could discuss it with her. Heather introduced me to the roseate spoonbills and I’ve been mad for them ever since. Maybe she’ll give me a friends-and-family discount. Where is she?”

“Cara . . .”

“Oh, there she is,” Cara exclaimed, spotting Heather standing with a group of admirers, probably new patrons. “Let’s go find out.”

David reached out for her elbow and gently held her back. “Cara . . .”

Cara turned and looked into his eyes. His heavy brows were knitted, and he seemed unsure about something. She felt suddenly awkward. “I was only kidding about the friends-and-family discount,” she said.

David laughed lightly and shook his head. “No, I’m sure that’s not a problem. You make this difficult.”

Cara stepped closer, intrigued. “What’s that?”

David sighed with mock exasperation. “I bought this painting.”

“You bought it?”

“Yes. As a present. For you.”

Cara stared back at him, speechless.

“It was meant for your birthday. So . . .” He smiled. “Happy birthday, a few months early.”

“You bought this for me?”

“Yes. I remembered how much you loved it.”

Cara stared at him. He’d noticed how much she loved the painting. . . .

“Please don’t tell me you can’t accept it,” he said.

“I shouldn’t.”

“But you will.”

She couldn’t stop the smile from blooming on her face. “Only if you tell me you got the friends-and-family discount.”

“Of course.”

“Then yes. Oh, David, I love it. I can’t remember the last time I loved a gift more. Not even my Burberry bag. And not just for the gift, but because you noticed. You really are spoiling me.”

“That is my intention.” His eyes kindled and he captured her gaze as he leaned forward.

Cara’s breath held as she lifted her chin. Their first kiss. She felt his approach in millimeters. The buzz around them silenced in her ears as all her senses were focused on the man before her. The sight of him, the scent of his cologne, the feel of the wool of his jacket as she lifted her hand up to lightly touch his arm that slid around her waist. When his lips touched hers, she felt a searing heat shoot through her, igniting her. Ice broke around her heart as it began beating rapidly. It was the softest of kisses, one of great restraint. One that held promise. A whisper of a moan escaped her throat when David pulled back. Blinking, she looked at him again and saw that he was as shaken by the kiss as she.

“Excuse me.”

Cara tore her gaze from David and turned to see Emmi standing at her side. In her arms Hope was chewing one of her teething biscuits, looking tired. The old matchmaker was smiling like the Cheshire cat.

“I hate to interrupt,” she began teasingly. Her wide mouth couldn’t suppress the grin. “But this little one is conking out. Her awnings are lowering.”

“Yes, of course,” Cara said, and reached out to lift Hope into her arms. Hope cuddled up and laid her head on Cara’s shoulder. “We should go. What time is it?”

“Seven forty-five,” Emmi said. “If we leave now, we can make the next ferry.”

Cara turned to face David, her gaze imploring. “I hate to ask you to leave your daughter’s party . . .”

“The party seems to be breaking up,” he said.

Cara looked around and saw that many of the visitors were saying good-bye and leaving for home in a rush. In fact, it looked rather like a mass exodus.

“What’s happened?” she asked.

Heather approached, her eyes wide with fear. “We just heard. The tropical storm was upgraded to a hurricane. They’re calling this one Irma. And it’s headed straight for us.”



THE STORM HAD begun as a tropical wave off the coast of Africa. Over the next few days it coalesced into a tropical storm and was given the name Irma. During the next twenty-four hours the storm grew highly organized and met with favorable warm surface-water temperatures and low wind shear. Shortly thereafter the rapidly intensifying storm developed a distinct eye feature with sustained winds up to 115 miles per hour. The storm, now Hurricane Irma, was fast becoming an extremely powerful and possibly catastrophic Cape Verde–type hurricane, the strongest and potentially deadliest observed in the Atlantic in more than a decade.

The hurricane was driving everyone in the Caribbean and along the southeastern coast of the United States frantic. It kept shifting directions, sending the experts back to their computers to reveal new tracking cones, which in turn sent another group of residents panicking and laying in supplies. The only thing the experts agreed upon was that Hurricane Irma was heading toward Florida, but where exactly they couldn’t predict.

On Isle of Palms, Cara felt a distinct heaviness in the air. It was not something she could describe, but she knew it when she felt it. She called it hurricane air. It might’ve been the barometric pressure, or possibly the dense moisture in the air. Or, too, it could have been her instincts rearing up from a lifetime of experience. Regardless, an uncomfortable panic was building in her chest as she raced from store to store gathering emergency provisions.