Summer in Eclipse Bay

profile. She remained enigmatic behind the shields of her dark glasses.
    "You don't care that everyone's discussing our relationship down at the beauty parlor and in the aisles at Fulton's?" he asked carefully.
    She unclasped her knees and braced her arms behind her, flattening her palms on the rock. "Well, it feels a little strange to be the subject of so much local interest, but I've had plenty of opportunity to see how the Hartes and the Madisons handle that sort of situation. I thought I was dealing with it very well."
    "You are," he agreed immediately. "You're handling it beautifully."
    "And, as you just said, the talk will fade in time."
    "Sure." He mentally crossed his fingers. "Eventually."
    She said nothing else; just sat there, gazing thoughtfully out over the bay.
    "So," he said when he could no longer stand the suspense. "If it's not the fact that everyone is chatting about how I spent the night at your place that's bothering you, what, exactly, is the problem here?"
    "The bar fight last night."
    He exhaled slowly. "I was afraid it might be that. Look, I'm sorry it happened, but it was just a case of a bunch of guys who'd been drinking some beer and got carried away. Not the first time it's happened at the Total Eclipse, and it sure as hell won't be the last."
    "I realize that." She finally turned her head to look directly at him. "But it is the first time anyone has ever gotten into a fight on account of me."
    Dread settled heavily in the pit of his stomach. "Okay, so you're accustomed to dating a classier sort of guy. The type who doesn't get into bar brawls. Would it help if I told you that I don't make a habit of that kind of thing?"
    She just looked at him for a small eternity. Her mouth twitched a couple of times.
    And then she was laughing so hard that tears started to run down her face beneath the rims of her dark glasses.
    He watched her for a while, fascinated. "Did I say something funny?"
    "Yes." She yanked off the dark glasses and dried her eyes on the sleeve of her gold shirt. "Yes, you said something very, very funny."
    "You know you're losing it when you don't get your own jokes."
    She pulled herself together with a visible effort. The laughter faded into giggles and then shrank into a wide smile. Her eyes were warm and clear and bright with the remnants of her amusement.
    "You're not losing it," she said. "We're just not quite in synch here. What I was trying to tell you is that I have never considered myself the type of woman who is capable of launching a barroom brawl."
    "You're not."
    "You're wrong. Clearly I must be that type because I did ignite that fight last night. The facts are on the record from dozens of witnesses, apparently."
    He winced. "This is one of those no-win situations, isn't it? Any way I respond, I screw up big time."
    She ignored that. "I like it."
    "What? That I'm trapped in a lose-lose scenario?"
    "No, that I'm the type of woman who has what it takes to spark a tavern brawl."
    "Huh."
    "I also like being the type of woman who inspires gossip in the beauty shop and creates great excitement in the supermarket aisles."
    "Uh-huh."
    "The type who ties men up in bed."
    "And the type who lets herself be tied up in bed," he reminded her.
    "That, too. Aunt Claudia would be so proud."
    "Yeah?"
    "Definitely. She was always telling me that I had to stop trying so hard to smooth things over and fix things. She said I should learn to raise a little hell. I'm starting to wonder if maybe that's the real reason she sent me here to Eclipse Bay. Not to repair the damage she did but to discover this other side of myself."
    "Interesting theory."
    "The thing is, how could she have guessed that I'd get into so much trouble if I got tangled up with you Hartes and those Madisons? You think maybe there really was something to all that stuff about auras and New Age metaphysics that she studied during the last years of her life?"
    He folded his arms on his knees and savored the sense of relief that was washing through him. Octavia wasn't sunk in depression. She wasn't even pissed off. There was still hope.
    "Wouldn't take a lot of metaphysical intuition and aura reading to figure out that sending you here to get involved with Hartes and Madisons would get you into trouble," he said. "A woman as smart as Claudia Banner would have been able to predict exactly what would happen."
    The following morning Nick scrawled his name on a check and pushed it across the bar. Beside him, Jeremy signed his