Page 55 of Noel Secrets
The Cape Crisis
Cami Checketts
Chapter One
Adeline Belle sauntered through the enclosed and iconic Quincy Market the Monday after Thanksgiving. The bustling crowd, the competing smells wafting from a variety of food vendors, and the cast-iron columns were all familiar and welcome. The Christmas trees, wreaths, sprays, and twinkling lights were new, and she was a fan of each and every one.
She’d gone to Jade Valley, Arizona for Thanksgiving and relished the time with her family. Now she was back to the east coast. Boston and Cape Cod were some of her favorite spots on earth and she was thrilled to be home.
Tonight, she’d eaten a healthy poke bowl, adding extra veggies to the raw salmon and cauliflower rice concoction. She had earned a serving of banana pudding from Magnolia Bakery.
She grinned as she weaved through the crowd, anticipating one of her favorite treats. Maybe she shouldn’t indulge, coming off of a Thanksgiving stuffing at her mother’s house, but she’d reached her goal of catching up on all her work today and the pudding was her reward. She could hardly wait to take it home to her Cape Cod bungalow and savor it by the fire.
Upping her pace as the Magnolia Bakery sign beckoned her through the crowds, she was jostled by the press of people, tripped on a stroller tire, and went sprawling forward.
“Whoa there.”
A muscular arm reached out to her. Addie grabbed onto it with both hands, a lifeline in the sea of men, women, children, and strollers. Clinging to that strong arm, she regained her footing.
She looked up into the most intriguing pair of deep brown eyes shadowed by thick lashes. Most women she knew paid good money to imitate eyelashes like that.
“Are you all right?” the dark-haired stranger asked.
“Nothing busted,” she said, grinning.
His dark hair was trimmed short, and his face was a rugged kind of handsome. His eyes were definitely the standout, but there was no question his weathered but appealing look was enticing. The scars below his eyebrow, above his lip, and across one cheek told stories she wanted to hear. He had clearly fought his share of battles and had wounds that ran deep.
A tremor ran through her as their gazes locked. This was a man who would never hurt or scare a woman but fight for and protect those he loved and the causes he believed in. At least that was how she imagined it in the small section of her brain that still had faith in man below. She had oodles of faith in God above. He would never fail her.
“Glad to hear it.” His smile softened the tough guy look and made him even more appealing. “Price Sanderson.” He released her arm and stuck out his hand as people streamed around them in the congested and historic shopping hall.
“Adeline Belle.” She placed her hand in his, a warm thrill rushing through her at the simple sliding of their palms together and him wrapping his strong fingers around the back of her hand.
Instead of shaking, they held onto each other’s hands and studied one another. Addie had never felt a connection like this in her life, and she had dated a considerable variety of men in her thirty-four years. She liked to tease her sisters that she suffered from ‘option overload’—too many interesting men, too little time.
The sad truth was she had huge trust issues that she’d only shared portions of with her sisters. Her close friend Gillian was the only one who knew most of the story and only because she’d been right here. Addie’s trust issues had multiplied when her latest boyfriend Jamison assaulted her. Now she was committed to never going beyond a date or two with any man.
She smiled and pulled her hand back before it got awkward. Price shifted his weight and clasped his hands behind his back, making the muscles in his shoulders evident even through a long-sleeved button down with his coat slung over one arm.
“What branch of the military?” she asked.
“Could I buy you a banana pudding?” he asked at the same time.
They both laughed, and then he answered, “Navy. Recently retired. Banana pudding?”
She tilted her head and regarded him, giving him a challenging look. “How do you know I like banana pudding?”
That was uncanny he’d offer, but the Magnolia Bakery specialty was universally loved, and they were standing steps away from the shop.
She wanted to ask him numerous questions. Recently retired? He couldn’t be older than forty. What was he doing now? Divorced? Never married? Interested in a few dates with a fun lady like her who had no plans to settle down? Maybe shecouldbe tempted to settle down. If she ever found a man she could trust and who she wanted to spend more than a few dates with. She was gun-shy from her own experiences and from twoof her sisters being cheated on and going through horrific and heartbreaking divorces. It was better, and safer, to keep things light, have a few fun dates, and move on.
“You have a bright and intelligent light in your blue eyes,” he said. “So I correctly assumed that you’d be a fan of banana pudding from Magnolia Bakery.”
She was jostled by a group of teenagers rushing by and stepped closer to him. Arching her head back to hold eye contact, she liked that he was four or five inches taller than her five-seven, tall and thickly-muscled. He was strong enough to protect her and make her feel feminine.
“You did assume correctly,” she told him. “Are you a profiler in your retirement?”
“No.” He smiled. “Bodyguard.”
