Caught Up in You Read online

  He grabbed her hands. His breath quick, eyes so intense. “Shelby,” he whispered. “No.”

  She didn’t care that he was drunk. He was leaving in two days, moving to New York and she would never see him again. But she would have this.

  “Yes.” She slanted her mouth over his. Somehow, during the kiss, she ended up in his lap, facing him. His arousal pressed against her belly. The last button undone, she pushed his shirt open, skimming her hands over his chest, his chiseled abs. In all her life, she’d never seen anything more beautiful, never wanted anything more than she wanted him.

  He pulled away just enough to look at her. “This is a dream.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. Having him was her dream. She pulled her dress over her head, threw it on the floor. She pulled him down on top of her and he took over, which was good because she had no idea what she was doing.

  That next morning, she’d been terrified he wouldn’t remember what had happened between them, or worse, that he would. She left before he woke up. She’d been so inept, so forgettable, he’d left for New York two days later, saving her the embarrassment of seeing him again, and he didn’t even say goodbye.

  And now here he was. Same gorgeous face. Same beautiful smile. Still with no clue he had been her first.

  Shelby couldn’t help but glance at his left hand; still no wedding ring. Declan had always been a nice guy, but he was a magnet for beautiful women. He’d been engaged three times that Shelby knew of and had bolted before each wedding. Definitely not the kind of guy a girl wanted if she were husband hunting. Was she really husband hunting? Was it just Wedding Rebound Syndrome?

  And how could this man affect her the way he did fifteen years ago? Palms? Definitely sweaty. Heart? Beating out of her chest, the same way it had that morning she left him on the couch, only to never see him again. Well, that wasn’t true, she’d stood outside the arena until she scored an extra ticket thanks to some deadbeat dad who’d decided to skip out on his daughter’s graduation. She’d watched Declan walk down the aisle that afternoon. Then she never saw him again. Never heard from him after he headed to the Big Apple to fulfill his dreams of becoming a famous artist.

  She motioned to the dozen or so high priced works of art. “So, this is all you?”

  “Yeah.” That smile. “I’m still in galleries in New York, but I needed to get out of the city, spend some time down South.”

  She ran her hand over the bottom of the filigreed gold frame with a scene of a shrimp boat and an old fisherman, perhaps his father, hauling in a catch at sunrise. She recognized the spot at the mouth of Magnolia Bay. Several of his other paintings depicted her hometown as accurately as a photograph, but his technique had changed, developed and the results were stunning. “I’ve always loved your work, but something’s different now. The way you capture the light of the marsh? I’m not sure what it is, but your attention to detail is amazing, considering you haven’t been home in how long?”

  “Long time,” he said, not smiling.

  Everyone knew his father didn’t support his decision to become an artist. Declan was supposed to be a shrimper, like his daddy. Take over the fleet of trawlers that were still the subject of many of his paintings. After Declan left Magnolia Bay, his father sold all of his boats except one, the Lazy Jane. Most mornings when Shelby took her run down Bayshore Boulevard, she saw his dad heading out to the open water. He didn’t shrimp anymore, which always made Shelby wonder why he still left out of the bay every sunrise like clockwork.

  “I’m moving back to Magnolia Bay. I leased the Renault place.” His tone said it wasn’t a permanent move.

  But the Renault place?

  “Wow.” It was one of the historic mansions along Bayshore Boulevard. Big, really big. So, had some woman finally wrangled Declan Enright to the altar? He wasn’t wearing a ring, but he wasn’t totally averse to the idea. After all, he’d been a runaway groom three times. Twice with Magnolia Bay brides. And, while Declan always had tongues wagging, this last bride he left at the altar had made a lot of noise, or her publicist had. Elizabeth Lloyd was a high profile model turned actress and, prior to their wedding, she’d even done a stint as a Bridezilla on one of those reality shows.

  It had surprised Shelby that, even after all these years, seeing Declan’s engagement to Elizabeth in People Magazine had felt like a sucker punch. And she had almost spewed her coffee the day she saw his beautiful face on TMZ. The footage of him living up to his nickname of The Runaway Groom and literally sprinting from the church and escaping in a cab had played for days in the news.

  “The Renault mansion is huge,” she said. “Are you starting a family?”

  He laughed and actually blushed. “No. Just leasing a house with great light.” His smile faded. “And coming home.”

  The silence was awkward. She wanted to ask him why Magnolia Bay? Why now? His mom had passed away when he was a kid, and if his dad’s time on his boat was any indication, he was still in good health. Even though she and Declan had been good friends a long time ago, she didn’t know him well enough now to give him the Six Chicks patented full court press for information.

  “Well, I’d better let you get back to work,” she said. “It was great seeing you.”

  “Yeah, same goes. Do you still live in the Bay?”

  “Magnolia Bay born. Magnolia Bay bred.” Even though she wasn’t, when she was a kid she’d sung the rhyme at the top of her lungs along with the other kids.

  He laughed but didn’t finish the rhyme-But when I die, I’ll be Magnolia Bay dead. “It was really good seeing you, Shelby. Hope I’ll see you around the Bay.”

  Chapter Two

  While Shelby thoroughly enjoyed her jaunt up the coast, she was glad when she turned down the long road off of Highway 17 that led to Magnolia Bay. Twenty minutes later, she pulled into her little bungalow on Spencer Boulevard that backed up to the gardens the city was famous for.

  There was hot and then there was Lowcountry hot, and today was definitely the latter. But the roses on the other side of her white picket fence were in full bloom, their scent making the thick humid breeze a little easier to bear. She hurried up the steps, anxious to see Bella and maybe take a nap before she met the Chicks for book club tonight.

  She adored her little home, but owning a bungalow built in 1927 had its disadvantages, especially when the humidity made the doorjamb swell. She pushed a couple of times and then laid her shoulder into the door. It flew open, making her fall flat on her face. In two seconds, Bella was doing the circle dance around her back.

  “My baby.” Shelby rolled over, scooped up Bella and held her close. “Mama missed you so much.”

  “Shell?”

  Bella jumped out of Shelby’s arms as she wheeled around. Chelsea was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, dressed in Shelby’s pajamas, hair matted, eyes wide, face tearstained. Neither of them said a word. She just took her baby sister in her arms and let her cry.

  She’d nursed her sister through a broken heart before, the first time, when Chelsea was in the third grade. Twice in middle school, a couple of times in high school, and when their parents died. Then Chelsea had met Matt in college; he was gorgeous and perfect and adored her. And there hadn’t been anything to be broken hearted over with him, until the kid thing. Until now.

  She dragged Chelsea to the little bar that overlooked the kitchen and ordered her to sit. She obliged and laid her face on the counter while Shelby looked for comfort food. The fondue pot was always their go-to for stress or grief relief. Forget frying little bits of cheese and meat in oil, everything is better dipped in chocolate. But as powerful as chocolate was, Shelby knew it wouldn’t come close to salving Chelsea’s wounds. Still, old habits die hard.

  She fished out the pot, plugged it in. She didn’t have much of the good stuff, just one bar of Godiva. She crumbled it up and threw in a few chunks of Candi Quick, something she used to make chocolate-covered peanuts at Christmas. It didn’t have an expiration date; Shelby w
asn’t even sure it could be considered real chocolate, although it tasted like it.

  The pantry was bare of anything dip worthy. She opened a bag of plain potato chips and stirred the chocolate until it was melted. She dipped the chip into the chocolate and tasted it. Not bad. She dipped several chips one at a time and put them on a plate for her sister. Chelsea pushed the plate back toward her, underscoring the fact that this was bad. Really bad, and Shelby was out of her league.

  “Wish Mom was here. She always knew how to make everything better, and it usually began with chocolate.” Shelby offered her a dipped chip. “But I’m here for you, Chels.”

  “Everything was fine,” Chelsea whispered. She shoved the chip in her mouth, slight smile. Shelby may have discovered a whole new way to worship their favorite food group, “And then there was this family at the pool. And it made me want—. I wanted Matt to want a family like I did. But now he says he doesn’t want children at all, that maybe he never did. If I’d known how he really felt, I never would have—. It’s over, Shell. Matt and I are over.”

  Shelby stuffed two more chips in her mouth. Her sister had come to her for shelter, maybe for advice like she used to. Yeah, this was going to take a lot of chocolate and then some. Maybe it was a good time to call the Six Chicks in; they’d love Chelsea up. Hannah would threaten to shoot Matt, not that she’d actually do it. It was just her way of saying, “I love you and would do anything to help you feel better.”

  “Want me to call the girls?” Chelsea shook her head violently and started to cry again. Bella jumped up onto the counter and gave Shelby a look that said, Hey, I know I’m not supposed to be up here, but she’s crying. Bella wormed her way onto Chelsea’s lap and rubbed her head against her chest.

  “Okay. Okay, Chels. It’s just you and me.” Another look from the domineering kitty. “And Bella.”

  There were times Shelby really felt the loss of her parents and this was one of them. Since their parents died, Shelby had tried to fill both their roles and be a good sister.

  “We’re done.” Chelsea fingered one of the chips. “We agreed not to tell Matt’s mom. If nothing else, at least she got what she wanted out of this—whatever it was.”

  “It was a relationship, honey. And they’re hard, but whether it’s over or not, you’re going to be okay.” Was Shelby quoting Dr. Phil or Oprah? Sometimes it was hard to keep them straight, except Oprah wore better shoes. “I love you, Chels.”

  A week after she’d shown up on Shelby’s doorstep, Chelsea seemed better. She’d graduated from pajamas to yoga pants and t-shirts and was bathing again. She hadn’t heard one word from Matt, which concerned Shelby. Maybe she’d been right about Matt and Chelsea before the wedding, and the whole thing had been a mistake. Still, after six years of them living together, the silence from Matt was unsettling, even for Shelby.

  She was making breakfast when Chelsea strolled out of the guest bedroom in an adorable yellow sundress and a familiar pair of strappy Stuart Weitzman wedges. “What?” Chelsea asked innocently.

  “Really? You could have asked.”

  “Hey, I learned from the best; you’re the queen of closet snooping.”

  “Yes, but I ask before I borrow.” Her sister’s eyes went wide when Shelby pulled a pair of kitchen shears out of the drawer and started for her. “And I never borrow something with the tags still on it.” She clipped the tag off. It fell to the floor and Bella pounced on it, batting it across the room. “All that money I spend on cat toys and all she wants is the tags.”

  The tag slid under the refrigerator. Bella was determined to retrieve it and was shoulder deep in a very scary place, considering the fridge hadn’t been moved since Shelby bought the house five years ago.

  “You look amazing, little sister, what’s the occasion?”

  “Job interview.” Okay, so Chelsea was staying, at least for a while. Shelby wasn’t sure how she felt about that, or how Bella would feel. It had just been the two of them for so long. Chelsea sat down at the bar and Bella was in her lap in a few seconds purring, batting playfully at her dangly earrings. Obviously Bella was okay with having a not-so-temporary houseguest. “Out of all the places I’ve lived, none of them has felt like home, not like Magnolia Bay.”

  By the time Shelby was seven, she had lived in a different city every year; after that they’d stayed a year or two. But their dad had moved up the ranks, and they were finally able to settle down when he was stationed at the Charleston Naval Base. Mama was looking for a good place to raise her girls and happened on Magnolia Bay. Daddy had a forty-minute commute one way, but always said it was worth it to live here, and he was right. Maybe being here would help Chelsea heal and get on with her life.

  “So, you’re ready to go back to work?”

  “I think so; I had a good phone interview yesterday. I don’t want to jinx it by saying anything right now. Oh, and I called Stacia, like you suggested. We’re having coffee before my meeting.”

  Chelsea was a few years older than Stacia. They didn’t hang out together when they were in school here in the Bay, but they had similar tastes in music and clothes. Both were chocoholics and mainlined coffee all day long without any negative side effects.

  Stacia was head over heels in love with Sawyer Carrigan, even though she had to deal with his mother, Camellia Bloom-Carrigan, who took great pride in being the biggest bitch in Magnolia Bay. But Sawyer was so yummy, and he and Stacia were so adorable together, anybody with a pulse who saw them, wanted what they had. Was Chelsea ready to hang out with someone who constantly gushed about her perfect man?

  “Sounds like you have a big day planned. If you really want a job, I could use you at the store,” Shelby said.

  “You have your work. I think I need something of my own. And this—. Well, the job sounds fun and right up my alley.”

  Chelsea had been an IT gal, working in a male-dominated world. Maybe she was headed into Charleston to interview or Mt. Pleasant. She’d also done some graphic design work when she was in grad school. Emma, one of the Six Chicks who worked at an advertising agency in Charleston, might be able to help her find a job if she wanted to go in that direction. Bottom line, it looked like little sis was better and was back home to stay.

  It had been a long day, and all Shelby wanted was a glass of wine and her kitty. There was a tarpon tournament in town, which always meant hoards of men heading out on boats and then filling the bars and restaurants at nights. While Magnolia Bay was famous for its fishing tournaments, with the romantic B&Bs, restaurants, and quaint little shops, the town had become a haven for the fishermen’s wives and significant others who were happy to shop until they dropped. It was good for Slick Chicks, Shelby’s business, but they’d run her ragged all day, and her feet were killing her.

  Luckily, Chelsea had texted to say she was cooking shrimp and Charleston red rice for dinner and had a bottle of sauvignon blanc on ice. Bella hopped up onto the porch to greet Shelby, winding around her legs until a squirrel caught her attention and she scampered off just as Shelby pushed through the front door.

  “Surprise!” Chelsea was absolutely glowing. “I got the job.”

  Shelby dropped her purse and keys on the table beside the door and did the happy dance with her sister. It didn’t matter what they were celebrating, her baby sister had not only rejoined the land of the living; she was positively glowing. “I’m so proud of you. And I’m starved.”

  “I’m so excited; I can’t wait to tell you all about it. Hurry and change into some comfy clothes. Oh, and you have to promise not to judge.”

  What the hell did that mean? Did it really matter? Chelsea was obviously thrilled, and Shelby had no intention of pooh poohing her sister’s newfound happiness. She pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and then called Bella to dinner. She looked out front but didn’t see her. She looked out back and saw Bella pawing the metal pole the bird feeder was mounted on, eyeing a squirrel. “Don’t you dare eat that squirrel. Come inside and eat your kibble.�
� Bella ignored her and went back to pawing the pole. “I’d better not see squirrel throw up on my bedspread or there’ll be hell to pay, Miss Kitty.”

  “Come. Sit. I want to tell you about my job.” Chelsea handed her a glass of wine. The small café table was set with two plates of good Lowcountry food. Large pink shrimp sautéed in olive oil and garlic, Charleston red rice with little bits of savory sausage, and beautiful sliced tomatoes, most likely from the Fry family’s u-pick farm. “So I’m excited. Did I say that already? Well, I am,” she giggled.

  Shelby took a bite of shrimp and closed her eyes. Nothing like shrimp fresh off the docks. Unless it’s fresh stone crabs, her absolute favorite. “This is delicious.”

  “Okay. Are you ready?” Chelsea took a swig of wine. Was it the excitement that had her drinking or was she working up her courage?

  “I’m all ears.”

  “This is so different from anything I’ve ever done before, but I’m really really excited. And remember, you promised not to judge.”

  “Tell me already.”

  “I’m going to be a model.”

  Well that was a surprise. Sort of, mostly because of Chelsea’s work history. But Shelby could definitely see why someone would hire her sister to model. Chelsea was just an inch shorter than Shelby, but was at least the required 5-foot-8 inches to walk the runway. She was stunning with thick blonde hair that hung almost to her tiny waist, and when the genetics fairy was handing out boobs to the Worthington girls, she’d definitely chosen favorites. Shelby looked down at her skinny legs and her barely B cups. Yes, her sister was the perfect mix of curvy and cute, while Shelby had to work at it.

  “That’s great, Chels. Where? When do you start?”

  “Tomorrow. Maybe. It depends.”

  Okay, that didn’t sound much like a real job. “On what?”

  “On the light. I’m modeling for an artist, Declan Enright. He said he’d call me and let me know whether or not to come in. He’s paying me a $150 a session. It’s just for a few hours a week; I think it will be fun, and besides, he’s gorgeous and he’s so nice. And that house, oh, God, Shelby, you have to see the house, it’s amazing.”