Those Cassabaw Days by Cindy Miles Read Free Book Online Page A

her so thoroughly made her aware of, well, everything. He’d always had that quality, though. Almost a commanding characteristic that made people pay attention closely. Even as a kid, he could speak to her, and she’d feel compelled to listen.
    She gave a nod. “Okay, let’s go.”
    They crossed in silence to the wooden boardwalk leading to the beachfront, where sea oats waved in the constant coastal breeze. The Windchimer faced the ocean along a boardwalk of several other establishments. It was brightly painted in a soft pink with white concrete columns, and a swirling mural along the side of the building that depicted sea turtles, mermaids and sand dollars. A long wood-planked covered deck, housing several tables, had a beautiful view of the sea and pier.
    A loud clap of thunder boomed over the water. Emily jumped. Big fat plops of rain smacked her skin. Matt was silent as his gaze fell on her, then dropped to her mouth and lingered there before he raised his eyes back to hers.
    “I, uh, guess we’d better get inside,” Emily said, fishing the key from her pocket.
    “Yep,” Matt agreed.
    As she pushed the key into the lock and opened the door, Matt flipped on the light switch and a soft amber hue fell over the café’s interior.
    “Let’s go,” she said, and excitement flushed her. “I’ll make a list of supplies while you make a list of repairs.” She turned and pressed her lips in a tight line. “Okay?”
    Lightning flashed through the storefront windows, followed a few seconds later by a thunderous boom. The rain fell in buckets now, a fast, turbulent sea storm. “Storms are magical mantles of fairy wrath, don’t you think?”
    “Yep,” Matt finally answered. Without another word, he walked to the back of the café and began his inspection.
    Emily watched her now grown-up best friend, who filled out his jeans in a way that made her pause. Narrow hips. Broad shoulders. Confident swagger. He wasn’t the same Matt Malone from before. She wasn’t the same Emily. Not kids, but adults. Each with pasts.
    Which just might be the problem.
    Or, not.

CHAPTER FOUR
    A S E MILY TOOK inventory and inspected the interior of the café, she knew one thing for certain: the Windchimer possessed an old-time charm, just like Cassabaw Station. While it no doubt needed a cosmetic overhaul, the ambience emanating from within the 1920s establishment excited her. The layout worked; a long bar with stools that had seen better days stretched from one side of the café to the other. Behind it was an equally long cooking area with butcher-block counters, an old refrigerator, an even older double gas stovetop, a griddle and an oven. Long open cabinets hung overhead, along with a pot rack.
    She slowly walked through, taking in the seating area. The twelve tables were made of solid wood, and were fairly sturdy. Lowering into several of the chairs and giving each a good wiggle, she was happy to realize they were pretty steady, too. Taking several photos with her cell phone, she opened her notepad app and quickly tapped in her plans.
    When she looked up, Matt was watching her. Despite the stone-like unreadable expression he wore, she blew a loose piece of hair from her eyes and grinned. “Well, I can definitely make this work. This aqua-and-white checkerboard floor tile is so art deco and is beyond gorgeous. It’s just the vintage look I want to keep.” She rose and pointed to the cooking area. “I don’t think this place has been upgraded since the seventies, though. Those old appliances need to skedaddle. I’ll replace them with stainless steel. New cookware.” She smiled, and began to hop from tile to tile. She looked over her shoulder. “Classic white dishware. To start with.”
    Matt gave a nod. “Dishwasher is shot to hell. Pantry shelves are sagging and need replacing. Probably need to install a new wash sink. Faucets all leak. The wood flooring around the sink and chest freezer is boggy. It all needs to come