Free Moon Shell Beach: A Novel by Nancy Thayer Page A

into her felt clogs, clomped down the stairs, and entered the kitchen just as the buzzer sounded. A heavenly buttery aroma filled the air. She took the corn bread out of the oven and was stacking various cartons into a straw tote when the phone rang again.
    “Hey, babe.”
    Clare rolled her eyes at the sound of that “babe.” She continually asked Jesse not to call her
babe
. It was such an anonymous, generalized designation.
Any
woman could be
babe
. And for Jesse, countless women had been. Perhaps that was the price Clare had to pay for being in love with such a handsome man. “Hey, Jesse, what’s up?”
    “Just wanted to say good morning.” A chorus of hammer falls and whining saws created background music to his voice.
    “Good morning, sweetie.” Clare curled up in an ancient wooden captain’s chair at the end of the kitchen table, pulled her knees up to her chest, and leaned into the sound of his voice. She could envision Jesse at work in his flannel shirt, jeans, and work boots, his thick blond hair tied back in a ponytail with some old rubber band. Perhaps by now—the crew started work early—he’d have warmed up and tossed off the flannel shirt. So he’d be wearing only an old white short-sleeved T-shirt. She thought of the muscles in his arms, the lean stretch of his torso.
    “How’s your father?”
    His thoughtfulness warmed her. “Better, I think. He’s showered and dressed in clean clothes. I fixed him a big fat breakfast.”
    “Yum. I wish someone would fix me a big fat breakfast.”
    When we’re married, I’ll make you breakfast every day,
Clare thought. But she didn’t want to seem eager. She wanted
him
to be the one to push to set the wedding date. So she kept it light. “How about a big fat dinner tonight?”
    Jesse made a kind of purring noise in his throat. “Sounds good.”
    “And I might have some gossip.”
    “Oh, yeah?”
    “Penny phoned. I’m going over later for coffee. She said she’s got a major scoop.”
    Jesse snorted. “On this island in April? Not likely.”
    “Wait and see.”
    “What’s for dinner?” Jesse asked. “Talk sexy to me, baby.”
    Clare smiled. “What about a nice juicy steak with fried potatoes and onions and a big salad to keep us healthy?”
    “Sounds great. And just the kind of thing to provide me with a little extra energy for…other activities.”
    Clare closed her eyes, soaking in the sexiness of his voice. Through the phone she heard someone yell.
    “Hey, babe, I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight. Sixish.”
    “See you then.”
    “I love you,” Jesse spoke quietly. He’d been ragged on too many times by his friends for being mushy.
    “Love you.” Clare smiled. She tried not to be the one to say “I love you” first. It always lifted her heart, made her feel more secure, when Jesse said “I love you” without any kind of prompting.

EIGHT
    O n an ordinary April day, the blue and white Hy-Line catamaran sped toward Nantucket Island. Lexi leaned on the rail, letting the wind whip her hair against her cheeks, not minding the cold damp lashing. She was returning home.
    Her heart raced as the boat skipped over the waves. Two weeks ago she’d made a quick trip to the island to find a building to rent and also to see how she liked being back on Nantucket again. It had felt absolutely
right,
and the building was a dream come true. She’d negotiated the rental agreement by mail and e-mail and now here she was, with the keys to her new home on Commercial Wharf in her pocket. She hadn’t called her parents or Clare yet. She wanted them back in her life again, but first, she simply wanted to be on Nantucket.
    In the distance, a gray smudge on the horizon indicated the presence of land. Lexi laughed out loud. How had she managed to live without her island? Only now was she grasping how much she had missed Main Street at Christmas, Daffodil Weekend, and the crowds packing the bleachers at the football games. She remembered loving the island