LEAD ME ON by Julie Ortolon (find a book to read TXT) 📕

“And tourist season isn’t even in full swing.” Paige shook her head in amazement. “Bobby wants to talk to y’all about adding a dinner run this summer.”

Chance blew out a breath. “Let’s wait until after the baby comes, then maybe we can all think straight enough to talk. Alli, do you have a tray ready?”

She finish grating cheese over the salads. “Take it away.”

He shouldered the full tray as if he’d been waiting tables for years, rather than working behind a desk at a bank.

Adrian came in next, looking every inch the dashing pirate with his ponytail, small gold earring, and jackboots. Chloe stopped work and sighed out loud. Allison hid a smile at the girl’s obvious crush.

“We’re going to need more iced tea,” he said.

“I’ll get it!” Chloe offered and rushed to the commercial-sized coffee maker they used for brewing tea as Adrian balanced a second tray on one hand over his head and headed out.

And so it went for the next half hour: soup, salad, homemade bread, and huge slices of sigh-inducing chocolate cake went out while dirty dishes came in. As the tourists finished their meals, they wandered into the gift shop or down to the cove for a walk along the beach.

The steady pace kept Allison’s mind off Scott... until he strolled into the kitchen just as she was finishing the dishes.

“Hey, Uncle Scott.” Chloe brightened at the sight of him. “How’s it going?”

Allison’s heart jumped as she glanced toward him. He stood in the doorway, wearing a black polo shirt, black shorts, and the sort of befuddled expression she imagined a bear would have emerging from hibernation.

“Okay.” He nodded. “I take it from all the noise it’s Saturday again.”

“It does tend to come once a week,” Allison said. She almost laughed when she saw him stiffen.

His head turned slowly toward her, the muddled look giving way to wariness. “I thought you’d be in the gift shop.”

“Rory and I are trading places until the baby comes.”

“Oh.” He glanced back toward the door, as if he wanted to bolt. Poor frightened bear, she thought, even as she let her gaze flow over him. Big sexy black bear.

“I hope we didn’t ‘disturb’ you in any way,” she said as her gaze took a leisurely journey back up to his face.

“No.” He cleared his throat. “Not at all.”

She watched color rise up his neck, and marveled that she could affect him so easily. She didn’t even have to be overtly suggestive. The simplest words, with just a hint of sexual connotation, were enough to raise his blood pressure.

“I, uh, just thought I’d grab one of the Cokes I left in the fridge, then do some research on the Internet about salvage ships.”

“Actually, I’ll do you one better,” Alli said. “This is our friend Paige, who has an absolute passion for all things nautical. If you have a question about boats, she’s the one to ask.”

“Really?” Scott eyed the former debutante with only a hint of skepticism showing.

“You must be Scott Lawrence.” Paige smiled back. “Chance and Rory told me you were staying here. You know, I’ve always wondered where writers come up with their ideas.”

He gave Allison a deadpan look. “We get them from sadistic muses, who find inventive ways of making us pay.”

Allison bit her lip to stop a grin.

Scott turned back to Paige. “I don’t suppose you’d have time to answer a few questions?”

Paige looked at her slim gold Rolex. “Bobby’s probably about ready to shove off.”

“Maybe later, then?” Scott said.

“Actually ...” Paige hesitated, then smiled. “I don’t see any reason he can’t take the boat back by himself. I’ve already done my tour-guide bit, and he can certainly dock by himself.”

“That would be great.” Scott glanced at the table by the window, then back toward Alli. “Maybe we should go sit in the music room, where we’ll be out of the way.”

Amusement tickled Allison’s cheeks as she watched them leave. Oh, he wanted her, all right—but he was fighting it. Why she had no idea, she just knew he was.

She dried her hands on a dish towel. “Hey, Chloe, I’m done with these dishes. You want to keep me company while I clean rooms?”

“As long as you don’t ask me to pitch in and scrub toilets.”

“Deal.” Alli pulled on the bill of the girl’s ball cap, then headed for the closet in the back hall to get the bucket of cleaning supplies.

As she moved through the rooms making beds for guests who were staying, changing sheets if they were checking out, Chloe kept up a running monologue about the baseball game she’d watched the night before with Adrian over at Chance and Rory’s house. This was news to Allison, since she’d spent the evening downstairs rereading one of her favorite Scott Lawrence books. He really was an amazing storyteller, drawing the reader into an adventure where spine-tingling danger built with every page. Where did he come up with all those twists and turns, and characters that seemed so real?

When they reached Scott’s room, they found the usual organized clutter: neatly stacked piles of papers on the desk, reference books on the coffee table in front of the settee. Wherever his ideas came from, he wrestled them onto the page in a very methodical manner.

Reaching the bathroom, she had to shake her head. The toiletries sat on the counter in the same regimented order she found them every day.

“Is your uncle always this neat?” Allison called to Chloe, who had flopped down on her uncle’s bed.

“Pretty much,” Chloe called back. “If the writing is going really, really well, he’ll slide a tiny bit on the neat-freak routine, but otherwise, clutter bugs the heck out of him. He says it’s distracting.”

Shaking her head, Allison opened the shower door to clean in there, but stopped at what she saw. Several pairs of boxer shorts hung on the retractable clothesline. They were the lightweight silk variety preferred by people who did a lot