Page 13 of Small Town Schemes & Summer Kisses
“With extra cheese,” Gigi winked, patting his cheek. “You’re welcome, darling.”
Caroline stood, visibly flustered. “You were just walking by?”
“Of course not,” Gigi sniffed. “I was in the neighborhood, and I had a hunch.”
“Let me guess. We’re both on the bingo card now?” Beck grinned as he put the bright yellow dish embellished with daisies on the desk.
“Absolutely,” Gigi said, already pulling one out. “Right next to ‘Collaborative Project’ and ‘Unexpected Chemistry.’”
Caroline looked like she wanted the floor to open and swallow her. “Out. Now.” She pointed to the door.
“I’m going,” Gigi sang. “Don’t work too late. Sparks are a fire hazard.”
Gigi headed out of the office, her caftan fluttering behind her. Beck turned to Caroline. “Areyouokay?”
She exhaled. “Do you ever feel you’re the only sane one in a town full of chaos?”
“Every single day.”
“I’m glad we’re aligned. Now, get away from my binder.”
He grinned and scooted the dish to the corner of the desk. “Do you have paper plates and utensils here?”
“No, we’ve not had a need.” She slid back into her chair.
“How about we take this back to my place, and we can eat it there?” He looked at his watch. “I need to let Quint out.”
“Quint?”
“My dog.”
Beck scooped his jacket from the back of the chair. “I’m taking this home. I will never turn away a Gigi’s chicken casserole.”
“With buttered crackers?”
“Especially with buttered crackers on top.”
“Never knew a wild man to have such a hard time resisting.” Caroline stood and slipped back into her heels, filing papers into the worn binder. “Part of the casserole is mine, Beckett.”
His eyes went back to those shoes. Clearing his throat, he ignored the way his pulse tripped over itself. He needed to get out of the office.Now.
As he picked up the casserole dish and headed for the door, he called over his shoulder, “Which is why you’re invited.”
Chapter Five
The Hollis Expresshummed softly, its battery gauge dipping precariously close to empty as it zoomed through the deserted side streets. Caroline gripped the wheel as she followed the winding road hugging the ocean’s edge, her eyes momentarily distracted by the shimmering waves. In her distraction, she almost missed Beck’s driveway, and her tires screeched in protest as she swerved in at the last moment.
In the distance, Beck stood on the sandy beach, his arm arcing through the air as he threw a stick with all his might. A white blur shot across the sand to fetch it.
“Bring it here, Quint. Come on, boy,” he urged, the wind carrying his words toward the ocean. The dog, a muscular retriever with a coat like fresh snow, scooped up the stick and beelined for the surf’s edge. “Quint, no!” he shouted, his voice laced with exasperation.
The large dog came to an abrupt halt; his eyes locked onCaroline as she made her way to the end of the driveway. Its pink tongue lolled out of its mouth in a goofy grin, and its lopsided ears stood at attention, giving it a comically alert expression.
The Cream Retriever watched her with bright, intelligent eyes, then let the stick drop onto the sand, sending a small spray of grains flying. With a sudden burst of energy, the dog turned and bolted towards the house, leaving Beck in its wake, to chase after the animal with a resigned laugh.
Caroline sat in the cart, eyeing the mutt with trepidation. “He’s harmless, right?”
“Only if you consider slobber harmless.” Quint put both paws on the windowless door of the golf cart and leaned forward to sniff Caroline. “Down, boy,” Beck said.
