Simply Irresistible

Maddie knew Tara had a sexy NASCAR husband named Logan and a high-profile managerial job. Maddie could understand wanting to get back to both.

“And maybe I have a date with an Arabian prince,” Chloe said. “We all have lives to get back to, Tara.”

Well, not all of us, Maddie thought.

In uneasy silence, they checked out the rest of the inn. There was a den and a small bed and bath off the kitchen, and four bedrooms and two community bathrooms upstairs, all shabby chic minus the chic.

Next, they walked out to the marina. The small metal building was half equipment storage and half office-and one giant mess. Kayaks and tools and oars and supplies vied for space. In the good-news department, four of the eight boat slips were filled. “Rent,” Maddie said, thrilled, making more notes.

“Hmm,” was all Tara said.

Chloe was eyeing the sole motorboat. “Hey, we should take that out for a joyride and-”

“No!” Maddie and Tara said in unison.

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Jeez, a girl gets arrested once and no one ever lets her forget it.”

“Twice,” Tara said. “And you still owe me the bail money for that San Diego jet ski debacle.”

Maddie had no idea what had happened in San Diego. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know. They moved outside again and faced the last section of the “resort,” the small owner’s cottage. And actually, small was too kind. Postage-stamp-sized was too kind. It had a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kitchen-and-living-room combo and a single bedroom and bath.

And lots of dust.

“It’s really not that bad,” Maddie said into the stunned silence. They stood there another beat, taking in the decor, which was-surprise, surprise-done in blue and white with lots of stenciled ducks and cows and roosters, oh, my. “Mostly cosmetic. I just think-”

“No,” Tara said firmly. “Bless your heart, but please, please don’t think.”

Chloe choked out a laugh. “Love how you say ‘bless your heart’ just before you insult someone. Classy.”

Tara ignored Chloe entirely and kept her voice soft and steely calm. “Majority rules here. And majority says we should sell ASAP, assuming that in this economy we don’t have to actually pay someone to take this place off our hands.”

Maddie looked at Chloe. “You really want to sell, too?”

Chloe hesitated.

“Be honest with her,” Tara said.

“I can’t.” Chloe covered her face. “She has Bambi eyes. You know what?” She headed for the door. “I’m not in the mood to be the swing vote.”

“Where are you going?” Tara demanded.

“For a ride.”

“But we need your decision-”

The door shut, hard.

Tara tossed up her hands. “Selfish as ever.” She looked around in disgust. “I’m going into town for supplies to see us through the next couple of days. We need food and cleaning supplies-and possibly a fire accelerant.” She glanced at Maddie and caught her horror. “Kidding! Can I borrow your car?”

Maddie handed over her keys. “Get chips, lots of chips.”

When she was alone, she sat on the steps and pulled Lucille’s recipe box from her bag. With nothing else to do, she lifted the lid, prepared to be bored by countless recipes she’d never use.

The joke was on her. Literally. The 3x5 cards had been written on, but instead of recipes for food, she found recipes for…

Life.

They were all handwritten by Phoebe and labeled Advice for My Girls. The first one read:

Always be in love.

Maddie stared at it for a moment, then had to smile. Years ago, she’d gotten the birds-and-bees speech from her father. He’d rambled off the facts quickly, not meeting her eyes, trying to do his best by her. He was so damned uncomfortable, and all because a boy had called her.

Boys are like drugs, her father had said. Just say no.

Her mother and father had definitely not subscribed to the same philosophies. Not quite up to seeing what other advice Phoebe had deemed critical, Maddie slipped the box back into her bag. She zipped up her sweatshirt and headed out herself, needing a walk. The wind had picked up. The clouds were even darker now, hanging low above her head.

At the end of the clearing, she stopped and looked back at the desolate inn. It hadn’t been what she’d hoped for. She had no memories here with her mother. The place wasn’t home in any way. And yet… and yet she didn’t want to turn her back on it. She wanted to stay.

And not just because she was homeless.

Okay, a little bit because she was homeless.

With a sigh, she started walking again. About a mile from the inn, she passed the art gallery, waving at Lucille when the older woman stuck her head out and smiled. Snowflakes hovered in the air. Not many, and they didn’t seem to stick once they hit the ground. But the way they floated lazily around her as the day faded into dusk kept her entertained until she found herself in town.

She suddenly realized that she was standing in front of a bar. She stepped back to read the sign on the door, tripped off the curb, and stumbled backward into something big, toppling with it to the ground.

A motorcycle. “Crap,” she whispered, sprawled over the big, heavy bike. “Crap, crap.” Heart in her throat, she leapt to her feet, rubbing her sore butt and ribs and mentally calculating the cost of damages against the low funds she had in her checking account.

It was too awful to contemplate, which meant that the motorcycle had to be okay. Had to be. Reaching out, she tried to right the huge thing, but it outweighed her. She was still struggling with it when the door to the bar suddenly burst open and two men appeared.

One was dressed in a tan business suit, tie flapping, mouth flapping, too. “Hey,” he was saying. “She was asking for it…”

The second man wasn’t speaking, but Maddie recognized him anyway. Hot Biker from earlier, which meant-Oh, God. It was his motorcycle she’d knocked over.

Karma was such a bitch.

At least he hadn’t seen her yet. He was busy physically escorting Smarmy Suit Guy with his hand fisted in the back of the guy’s jacket as he marched him out of the bar.

Smarmy Suit pulled free and whirled, fists raised.

Hot Biker just stood there, stance easy, looking laid-back but absolutely battle ready. “Go home, Parker.”

“You can’t kick me out.”

“Can, and did. And you’re not welcome back until you learn no is no.”

“I’m telling you, she wanted me!”

Hot Biker shook his head.

Smarmy Suit put a little distance between them then yelled, “Fuck you, then!” before stalking off into the night.

Maddie just stared, her heart pounding. She wasn’t sure if it was the volatile situation, ringing far too close to home, or if it was because any second now, he was going to notice her and what she’d done. With renewed panic, she struggled with his bike.

Then two big hands closed around her upper arms and pulled her back from it.

With an inward wince, she turned to face him. He was bigger than she’d realized, and she took a step backward, out of his reach.

His dark hair was finger-combed at best, a lock of it falling over his forehead. He had a strong jaw, and cheekbones to die for, and disbelief swimming in those melted caramel eyes. “Mind telling me why you have it in for my bike?”

“Okay, this looks bad,” she admitted. “But I swear I have nothing against you or your motorcycle.”