No Sunshine When She's Gone by Kate Angell Read Free Book Online Page A

relieved as she was disappointed. Aidan added male dimension to her life. He made her stomach go soft and her heart flutter, purely feminine feelings.
    The two women took a breather next to a stall with assorted herbs. Jill inhaled deeply; the scents of lemon balm, mint, and rosemary tickled her nose. Her mother had kept a small clay pot of mint on the windowsill above the kitchen sink. Her mom had never added mint to her cooking; she’d used it as an air freshener.
    Their row house had been dark and in need of repairs. The building had smelled old, even when it was new. Growing up, Jill had stood at the sink and breathed in the mint. The clean fragrance erased the harshness of the outside world, where trash littered the streets and the smell of spilled liquor made her nauseous.
    Carrie glanced at her watch. “It’s almost three-thirty,” she said. “Did you skip lunch?” When Jill nodded, she asked, “Do you want to grab a snack?”
    “I can hold off until supper,” Jill said.
    “Let’s go, then,” said Carrie. “I feel dusty and in need of a shower.”
    Jill needed one, too. The air was humid and her skin felt gritty. They found the nearest exit, and then headed for the parking lot.
    Traffic continued to file in. Those on their way out carried large grocery bags to their cars. Jill climbed into her Triumph and Carrie into her Nissan Cube. They’d each driven their own car from Richmond to Barefoot William, as neither one wanted to depend on the other for transportation while they were in town. Carrie followed Jill back to the bed and breakfast.
    One block off the beach, the Barefoot Inn was ideal for vacationers. Jill stood on the narrow stone sidewalk before walking up the steps. The relaxed atmosphere calmed her. Surrounded by tropical foliage and a wraparound porch, the sun-yellow, two-story inn offered ten guest rooms. A continental breakfast was served out by the pool. Jill had enjoyed a freshly baked orange muffin and a cup of coffee that morning before heading to the psychic fair.
    Laugher now rang out poolside. She listened, smiling. Happy hour was underway. A chalkboard near the reception desk listed all daily activities. From four to six p.m., two drinks per guest would be blended at the chickee hut bar. The frozen cocktails included Paradise on Ice and a Barefoot Breeze; both were local rum-based favorites.
    Carrie beat Jill to the front door. Her friend carried both bags of produce, by choice. “You coming?” she called.
    Jill waved. “I’m right behind you.”
    However her steps slowed as her thoughts deepened. She was thirty-three years old, and had never had a real vacation, at least not one where time was exclusively her own. She had four days ahead of her to settle in and do exactly as she pleased. That included sunbathing at the beach, enjoying the rides and amusements on the pier, and shopping the boardwalk, all at a leisurely pace. She would welcome Carrie’s company if her friend wanted to join her. Otherwise, Jill would go it alone. Carrie was confident and capable of entertaining herself. She was a homebody, whereas Jill had a restless streak.
    By the time Jill entered the inn, Carrie had already consulted the owner, Sharon Cates, about storing their produce in the commercial refrigerator in the main kitchen. The food took up one shelf and the crisper drawer. Sharon was a gracious hostess.
    “I’m tired,” Carrie said, stifling a yawn as they left the kitchen and crossed the lobby toward the staircase.
    Wide windows cast Florida sunshine over the entrance. Blond hardwood floors, pale aqua furniture, and brass accents completed the décor. A complimentary rack of tourism pamphlets directed guests to local and state attractions. Jill mentally added Disney World, Busch Gardens, Zoo Miami, and Key West to her bucket list.
    “A nap would be nice,” Carrie said as they climbed the stairs. “First impressions are important. I don’t want to be tired when we meet Shaye and