Almost Home. Debbie Macomber

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      Five tables practically buckled with desserts. At least sixty women had entered the Whale Island Dessert Contest. The prize was a three-day spa package on the mainland. A number of women started mean-spirited dessert gossip when they didn’t win, one repeatedly stabbed her fork into the table, and one stomped out and slammed the door, but hey. Tough break.

      On Whale Island, Aiden and I were officially a couple. In fact, each time he won another round, it was announced by Sherilee Rotowsky via the microphone, “The gentleman who is the special friend of Chalese Hamilton has won another round. Let’s see, what’s his name? Ah, yes …” And then his name would be verbally mangled: Aide-on. Or Add-on. Or even Eedon.

      Finished by “You know, the man who is dating our Chalese … Doesn’t she make the best jams and jellies you’ve ever tasted? Y’all know that she and Brenda had to go down to the police station again.” Laughter. “This time it was Stephen’s skylight. No one hurt, folks. She never should have dated Stephen in the first place.” That last bit was said under Sherilee’s breath, but everyone heard it. “He wasn’t good enough for her.”

      I snuck a glance at the back of the building. Stephen’s face was bright red. The Man-eater crossed her arms and scrunched up her angry face.

      “How many times has Chalese said no to marriage proposals?” Sherilee asked everyone as I slouched in my chair. “I can’t remember.”

      “It’s nine,” Forrest Lee declared. He’s forty, the town comedian, and owns a pottery shop. “Nine.”

      “Nine? That’s not true. Chalese has said no to six men,” Rainwater Nelson said. “I know. I keep track.”

      “Is she engaged to Add-on?” yelled Beatrice Wong, principal of the high school.

      “That’s a good question,” Sherilee said into the microphone. “Are you engaged to Add-on?”

      Before I could say a word, Aiden stood up. He took a second to grin at everyone. “I think I can answer that. Chalese is …” He paused, and everyone leaned forward. “Chalese is not at this time engaged to me.”

      Hooting and hollering followed. Not at this time?

      I stood up on legs that held all the strength of those green noodles that are supposed to be healthy for you. “I am not engaged to Aiden. I am not even ‘not at this time’ engaged to Aiden. And to keep the official record straight, I’ve said no four times.” I held up my hand, four fingers up. “Four. Cuatro. Quatre.”

      Rainwater yelled, “So don’t ask her, Add-on. Kidnap her, throw her over your shoulder, and haul her into the church. I’ll drive the getaway Porsche.” He had three.

      “I can come to you,” Reverend Tinner said helpfully. “We’ll sneak up on her, Add-on.”

      “For someone who wants to live a quiet, anonymous life, you sure aren’t anonymous, Chalese,” Aiden drawled to me as we stepped into the cool night two hours later.

      “Shut up, Add-on,” I said.

      And that’s where some serious kissing took place, right in the field next to the poker tournament. At the end of it, when I could barely breathe, he swung me around under a shimmering moon as if I were some skinny little thing.

      “I have to go back to Seattle.”

      Aiden’s words sunk straight into my heart as we stood at the front of the ferryboat, passing the emerald green islands surrounding Whale Island.

      I really didn’t have time to do this island tour, but I could no more have refused Aiden’s invitation than I could have invited a boa constrictor to give my neck a good squeeze.

      In fact, I hadn’t said no a single time as we’d laughed, talked, and danced our way through the last four days. Plus, I was beginning to think about using paintbrushes as weaponry, so I knew I needed a break.

      “I’m going back to Seattle tomorrow. I’ve been here much longer than I intended so I could hang out with you and your smile. I’m going to write the story, Chalese, it’s going to print, and then I’m coming back. We’ll work through the fallout together, and I’ll be here to hold your hand. I promise.”

      I had two raging emotions battling for space in my head. One: dead panic. And two: liquid, swirling, joyous joy. Aiden wanted to come back and see me!

      “I don’t want to invade your life.” He threaded his fingers through mine. “I don’t want to pressure you. I haven’t asked you to marry me, so there’s no need for you to feel suffocated, but you’re too good of a fisherwoman for me to let you go.” He winked at me. So intimate, so sweet.

      The wind whipped our hair back as I giggled. We’d gone fishing two days ago and ended up kissing in a rowboat I borrowed from Gina. The rowboat capsized. It was one of the funniest things that had ever happened to me. The fish we caught had been lost.

      “I can’t be anything but honest here. The first time I saw you, scratched up from the skylight adventure, dressed in leather, grouchy, I felt this … I don’t even know how to say it. It was as if I was seeing my future. You are the most unique woman I’ve ever met. You live your life so fully, with courage and caring. You’re independent and talented and a heckuva lot of fun.”

      “Even when I’m struggling back onto a rowboat?”

      “Especially then. You walk your dogs at odd hours, you have a thing for your pajamas, you dance well in the sand, you laugh from your heart, and you’re dedicated to four-legged creatures.”

      He wrapped our linked hands behind my back.

      “And you’re sexier than hell. Every bit of you.”

      I thought of my burgeoning bottom and my hot flashes.

      Oh, well. If he thought they were sexy, who was I to argue? “So when we went biking through the mud and I crashed into you, that didn’t appear to be a warning that I wasn’t the right one?”

      He laughed. “No, not at all.”

      “And when we hiked to Constitution Point and it started to pour down rain and I suggested we do a waltz, that also wasn’t a bad sign?”

      “Not at all. Kissing you in the rain was one of the best things that has happened to me in years.”

      “They were wet kisses,” I commented.

      “True. I’m going to come back, and I want to see you again for more wet kisses. Many times. Please, Chalese. Say yes.”

      For an answer, I leaned in, stood on tiptoe, and kissed his neck. Once, twice, three times. “Whatever you say, Reporter Man.” Pain rippled through my body. I hoped that this would not be the last time I would kiss this man.

      The ferry captain tooted the horn, a long, low screech. I jumped out of Aiden’s arms at the noise. Up in the captain’s booth, my friend Jonathan Solberg waved.

      I kissed Aiden again, right on the mouth, and he kissed me back, taking control of that kiss, which was sexier than all get-out.

      I would remember that kiss, I knew it. When I was old and gray and leaning on a walker, СКАЧАТЬ