Page 32 of Small Town Schemes & Summer Kisses
The door jangled again, bringing in a gust of wind with Boomer and his guitar slung over his shoulder like a troubadour on tour. He tipped his hat at Caroline with a dramatic flair, attention immediately drawn to Gigi, Mabel, and their cards laid out.
“Trouble in paradise?” he sang, inserting himself into the conversation with a conspiratorial wink. “Don’t worry, fair Mayor,” he crooned. “It’ll be alright … even if we have to guess your plight!”
“Do I have any privacy left in this town?”
“Are you playing, Boomer?” Gigi asked, holding out a paper.
“You printed more cards?” Caroline was mortified.
“Darling, you’re the big news for Memorial Day.” Gigi picked up another paper and pointed it towards Caroline. “Why don’t you try your hand as well?”
“Order up,” the kitchen called.
Caroline grabbed her tote. “Make it to-go, Sandy. I’ve got to check on some construction, and I’ll just eat at home.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Put in a bottle of water and a sweet tea as well. I’ll go pay.”
After Caroline paid her check, she made her way down several blocks to where the fishing pier jutted out into the ocean. It smelled like rain, but the sky was still clear, with just a fewgray clouds in the distance. She closed her eyes as she walked, enjoying the warm breeze as it caressed her skin.
A few months ago, the only things remaining on the pier were seagulls and the smell of fish. The surrounding buildings were slowly dying.
Now, all the shops had a fresh coat of paint. Even if the shop didn’t have a business, it was ready to be rented out. Colors more reminiscent of Key West than bluebells decorated the storefronts, while freshly planted flowers in bright pots lined the walkway. String lights linked the buildings, swaying softly in the wind. They reminded her of the cool nights on Beck’s porch.
Several stores had largeComing Soonsigns or dates announcing when they would open. At the end of the row of shops, detached from the others, but between the street and the start of the pier, stood the former bait and tackle shop. The new one had been moved further down, allowing Caroline to convince the town to purchase the old one for a visitor’s center.
Faint traces of the large, stenciled letters declaring the former bait and tackle shop closed for business could still be seen on the shop window, and a bright redREOPENING SOON!took its place.
Taking the keys from her pocket, she jingled them in the lock until the door opened. She made a note to put in her binder about the sticky lock and to let the construction crew know about it when they returned. Pushing open the door, she entered the shop, greeted by the smell of small fish and stale water.
Flipping on the lights, she waited while they sputtered before finally coming to life before dropping her tote and bag containing her dinner on the counter. Her flip-flops slapped the floor as she walked over to the large window facing the ocean and pier and turned to survey the inside of the store. The building was in a perfect location for lots of foot traffic.
She could picture the boutique racks and displays lining the sides, poster-sized displays of the town’s history hanging on the walls like gallery exhibits, tempting visitors with tasteful nods to Bluebell Bay’s past and present. She could see it filled with souvenirs from local artists, vibrant stickers, colorful hats, and T-shirts screaming “I ♥ Bluebell Bay” hanging on plastic hangers.
Thunder rolled in the distance.
Caroline froze.
She was so busy thinking about when Beck would arrive back in town she hadn’t been paying attention to the weather. Looking out the window, she saw the sky had gone from a clear sky with gray clouds to almost night, as a crack of lightning lit up the sky and she counted.
One.
Two.
Three.
Boom.
The thunder made her jump. Running to the counter, she grabbed her tote bag and dinner and raced to the door. The bait shop was about five short blocks from the diner. City Hall was three blocks away, but there were people at the diner, and she didn’t want to be alone in the storm.
She gripped the door handle and gave it a firm tug, but it remained stubbornly shut. The wood had expanded from the humidity, causing it to wedge tightly into the frame, and she could feel the resistant scrape of the swollen door against the threshold as she struggled to pull it open.
What was she going to do?
Per her unscientific calculations, the storm was about three miles away, which meant she had about …
Another large crack streaked across the sky simultaneously with the thunder. She shrieked and jumped backward. The skies opened, and suddenly rain came battering down on the roof of the small building.
