by Amy Lyon
“I like it.” In fact, Jackson liked everything about her. “So Shaw was your maiden name?”
She nodded. “I changed it back before I moved here. Part of my fresh start, I guess.”
They were quiet for several beats, then Jackson said, “Well, I like it. Sara Serenity Shaw fits you.”
She huffed. “Except there’s very little about my life that’s serene.”
“I know,” he said, then caught himself.
But she’d caught him. “What did Andi tell you about me before I got here?”
Jackson needed to choose his words carefully. He didn’t want to throw Sara’s cousin to the waves for the little bit she shared, but he wanted to be truthful, too. And he wanted to know more about Sara. Every last detail of her past, so he could better understand her and walk forward into a future with her.
A smirk ticked at the corner of his mouth. When had he become such a dang romantic? He sensed tonight wasn’t the night to dig deep.
“I’m waiting,” she trilled.
“Let’s not talk about the past tonight.”
He thought he detected relief in her sigh when she said, “Sounds good to me.”
“But I do have one last question.”
“Another one?”
“Last one tonight, I promise.”
She nodded her agreement.
“Will you come to church with me tomorrow?”
Her body stiffened. “Don’t you have to work?”
“Shop doesn’t open till one on Sundays.”
She unlaced his fingers from around her waist and sat forward, then scooted to the edge of the lounge chair.
“I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “The grand opening for Sweet Serenity is less than two weeks away—”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Sara turned like she’d been slapped. “Don’t worry about it? There’s so much to do and I haven’t even started on the displays—”
He held up his hand and met her at the edge of the lounge chair. “Don’t worry about coming to church with me,” he said evenly. “That’s what I meant.”
Sara’s face turned red and she looked down at her hands.
“You don’t have to come,” he said plainly. “I just thought you might want to check it out and hear Matt preach.”
She rose to her feet and focused on the wall above his head. “Andi called me earlier today and invited me, but I… I mean, besides having a lot to do, I have some unresolved issues with ‘the church—’” she made air quotes above her head “—that I need to work through.”
Jackson’s brow furrowed. “Well, that sounds like a story.”
“For another night,” she said firmly.
He took her cue and then took her hand to walk her inside. In the kitchen, he insisted on making her a dinner care package to take home, then walked her to her car. She was silent, but he took a gamble on another question.
“Can I come by tomorrow after work? I’d love to see all the progress you make in the shop.”
Her eyebrows drew together and she examined his face like he’d said something confusing. “Of course,” she said softly. “I’d like that.”
He opened the car door and before she could slip inside, he gently kissed her cheek. “Sweet dreams, Sara Serenity Shaw.”
She wrinkled her nose. “A name for a gypsy.”
He pondered that. Gypsies were wanderers and lost souls. He didn’t see Sara that way. “You’re more grounded. Like an Earth Child. A lover of nature and all things serene.”
The flash in her eyes told him she saw herself differently. In time he’d help her see what he saw.
“Whatever you say,” she said, then started the car and rolled down the window. “Thanks again for dinner.”
“Anything for you, Moon Beam.”
“Moon Beam?” She giggled. “I thought I was an Earth Child.”
Jackson shoved his hands deep inside his pockets and gave a nod in her direction. “Just trying out some pet names on you.”
Sara burst out laughing and put the car in drive. “Can’t wait to hear what you come up with next.”
“Never-ending supply for you, Star Burst!” he called after her.
She waved out the window and he swore he heard her lilting laugh all the way down Dolphin Drive. The one name he’d debated bringing up, the one he really wanted to try on her, was girlfriend. She’d almost lost her marbles when he asked about church, so it probably wasn’t the best time to ask her if she was ready to go steady. Be exclusive. Commit to one another as more than friends.
Jackson sighed and looked up at the stars. Living this close to the ocean, there were no streetlights to distract nesting sea turtles that might mistake the artificial lights for the moon and lose their way.
He wouldn’t say he’d lost his way in the military, but he had lost sight of what was most important in life: family and relationships. Through the accident and injury, and his dad’s illness, he’d found his way back here to Mimosa Key. He trusted God was making good out of the tragedies in his life and Sara was more proof of that.
But he was woefully out of practice on the whole dating scene. Was it acceptable to call her to make sure she got home safely? Should he text her and ask her to stop by the shop after her morning walk? What were her plans for the rest of her life?
Jackson made his way to the back of the house and up the stairs to his apartment. When you know, you just know. And he already knew Sara was the one he wanted to build this new life with.
* * *
A six-minute YouTube video gave Sara the information she needed to replace the old bait shop fluorescent lights with track lighting, which allowed her to put spotlights on individual displays.
She spent the morning assembling the rest of the shelving and setting up a large worktable in the center of the room where she hoped customers would gather to learn about essential oils and mix their own blends.
As evening set in, she stood at the entrance of Sweet Serenity and snapped pictures on her phone. There was more work to do, but she wanted to document the progress as a visual reminder of how far she’d come.
And she’d come a long way.
Before she left Minnesota, her counselor had noted how much progress Sara had made in the two years since her dad’s passing and Mack’s death six months later.
Still, she didn’t see much change for the better.
Anger still bubbled up that cancer took her dad’s life and that Mack blew through her small inheritance and let his own life insurance policy lapse, leaving her with nothing but overdue bills and a house she couldn’t afford.
She chastised herself for allowing anyone—husband or not—to have that much control over her life that she knew nothing about their finances and had no input in major decisions.
And then there was her mother and the church. She closed her eyes thinking about the conversation with Jackson last night and how the very idea of stepping foot inside a church almost gave her a panic attack. If she told him that story—the one about how her mother blabbed her secret about Mack’s death to church leaders and the following Sunday Sara was put into a massive prayer circle that humiliated her and stripped every last shred of dignity from her—then she’d have to tell Jackson the secret.
And she couldn’t risk that.
She closed her eyes, breathed in the sweet and spicy aroma of clove bud, and focused on the present moment. Because tonight, as she walked through the five-hundred-or-so square feet of Sweet Serenity, a positive energy flowed through the air, nourishing her deep within her soul. She tasted a sweet sense of accomplishment that helped her see the headway she’d made.
A knock at the door startled her. She quickly relaxed when she saw Jackson on the other side of the glass. She couldn’t ignore the way her body responded to him or the way her mood lifted in his presence. She didn’t need him to take care of her, but she sure did feel better having him around.
She unlocked the
door and when he stepped in and pulled her into his arms, the problems of the past disintegrated into a million inconsequential pieces.
With one of the new fixtures casting a spotlight on him, she kissed him like he’d been gone for a week.
Jackson sighed and wrapped his arms tighter around her waist. “Now that’s what I call a greeting. I hope you don’t treat all your customers that way.”
“Just you,” she said, relaxing into his chest.
He breathed another sigh into her hair. “You’ve been busy.”
She scanned the room and pointed to the new fixtures. “Did those myself.”
He looked down at her and winked. “See, you don’t even need a landlord around.”
But I want you around, she thought and led him to the worktable where she had several orders spread out.
Jackson slid onto a stool across from her, uncapped one of the bottles and sniffed.
“Mmm. Peppermint.”
“Very good,” she said and held out another bottle, covering the label with her hand.
He sucked in a deep breath. “Oh, easy. Lemon.”
She nodded. “All right. This one’s a little harder.”
One sniff and he turned up his nose. “Smells like medicine.”
“Tea tree,” she said. “Good for cuts and scrapes.”
“And rashes?” Jackson quipped.
Her undiluted laughter filled the room as she uncapped another bottle, this one with no label.
Jackson sniffed and arched his eyebrow, then went in for another whiff. “I like it—” he shook his head “—but I don’t know enough to even guess what it is.”
“My own secret blend,” she said and rolled the scent on her wrists. “I created this in honor of this new chapter in my life. New home, new storefront, new…” She tipped her head and let out a long sigh of contentment. “You know, none of this would have happened without you.”
Jackson guffawed. “You would have found a way. Plus, Andi’s here.”
She touched his hand, determined to have him understand what an integral part he played in this new stage of her life. And maybe even in the larger picture.
“I’m thankful for you, Jackson.”
He picked up the unmarked bottle again and sniffed it. “I like this,” he said, clearly changing the subject. “It’s sweet and … pure. Like you.”
Sara blushed. “Help me think of a name so I can put a label on it.”
“Sweet Serenity, of course,” he said and held the cobalt blue bottle up to the light. “I wouldn’t even put a label on it. Sell it just like this. Add to the mystery.”
She snorted and smoothed a sticker on another bottle. “Labels are important. They tell you from the outside what you’re dealing with on the inside.” She tapped a few drops of liquid into a bottle. “Maybe you’re not the most popular mix that everyone’s talking about, but rather—” she added a few drops of another liquid to the bottle “—your own unique blend.”
She felt his eyes on her as she filled the rest of the bottle with a carrier oil.
“Voila,” she said. “One bottle of A Day at the Beach for—” she checked the paperwork on the table “—Cynthia in Kansas City.”
When she looked up, Jackson watched her. “I absolutely love you,” he said.
Sara sucked in a breath and her mind went blank.
CHAPTER TEN
Well, that was unexpected.
Jackson pushed back from the table and stood. Should he say something else? Or had he said enough already?
Sara’s eyes were fixed on the droplets she put into a new bottle and he made his way around the perimeter of the room. Maybe he should apologize, but what was there to be sorry for? He hadn’t planned to tell Sara he absolutely loved her, but she was pretty lovable. Most people might consider his feelings for her premature, but he didn’t give a rip what most people thought.
Losing his career and his father in a short span put an end to people-pleasing for him. And he knew what he felt for Sara was something more than he’d felt for any other woman.
He went back to his spot at the table. “When my dad died I just—” he pressed his palms flat on the table “—I just think there are so many things that go left unsaid. Now I try to say what’s on my mind without worrying …”
Sara’s eyes softened. “My dad died of cancer, too,” she said. “I don’t know if I told you that.”
He nodded. “You did.”
“I realize it’s not something great to have in common, but I … well, I can relate to the struggle of chemotherapy and doctors visits and the hope that maybe, just maybe, he’d be one of the lucky ones.”
Jackson bowed his head and murmured, “That’s what I thought.”
She capped the bottle she held, rolled it in a small piece of bubble wrap and slipped the order into a padded envelope.
“And I know the importance of telling people how you feel about them, but I have a hard time expressing my feelings.” She looked up and smiled. “Unless I’m angry. Then I have no trouble expressing myself.”
Jackson laughed. “Didn’t you say that if it had an engine, your dad took it apart, and you were right there beside him?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I just think it explains a lot.”
“About what?”
“Your tomboy side.”
“I’m not a tomboy,” she said with a frown. “I’m resourceful and fiercely independent.”
He pointed at the lights above her head. “And maybe a little bit stubborn, since you won’t ask for help.”
She clucked her tongue. “I guess I am sometimes.”
Jackson took in a deep breath. “Actually, I think you’re the perfect blend.”
Her cheeks turned red, but she didn’t look away. “Thank you.”
Their gazes locked and Sara held up her index finger.
“What?” he asked.
“Shhh.” She touched the corner of her eye, then put her hand over her heart, pointed to him and held up two fingers.
I love you, too.
Jackson rounded the table and scooped her into his arms. That was good enough for him.
* * *
Jackson looked especially handsome the next morning in jeans and a white polo shirt bearing the Mimosa Key Chamber of Commerce logo. Sara had agreed to accompany him to the luncheon where she could meet local business owners and share the news of Sweet Serenity’s opening.
Nearly every business on Mimosa Key was represented, from the small flower shop Bud’s Buds and Ms. Icey’s ice cream parlor to a start-up with a similar philosophy to Sara’s that made soap from goat’s milk produced on a local farm.
With a possessive hand on the small of Sara’s back, Jackson introduced her to Emma, a representative from Casa Blanca Resort and Spa.
Between noticing the tingles from his touch and listening to the conversation around them, an idea formed in her mind.
“If I made some really nice, glossy brochures for Beachside Rentals, would you consider putting them in your guests’ rooms?” Sara asked Emma. “Maybe Jackson could give a ten percent discount to resort guests.”
Jackson shrugged uncomfortably. “That would be nice, but don’t feel like you have to—”
“It’s a great idea,” Emma said, beaming. “Maybe as a trade you could put a link to Casa Blanca on your website. I liked your Facebook page last night. Great marketing.”
Sara nudged him with her hip as they moved across the room to take their seats at one of the long tables.
“It’s all about networking,” she said. “Resort guests will have another opportunity for entertainment when they rent your equipment and that experience may make their whole vacation. They’ll recommend the resort and the resort will recommend you. It’s a win-win.”
Jackson shrugged. “I guess I’m not very good at tooting my own horn.”
She winked. “That’s why I’m here.”
He reached under the table and took her hand. “We make a good team.
”
During the formal part of the meeting, Vivian directed business owners to introduce themselves, and when Sara’s turn came, Vivian offered her an opportunity to share more details about her business.
“I’m curious to know what you’ll do or sell in your little shop,” Vivian said.
The woman’s pointed expression and tight lips weren’t especially welcoming, but Sara stood anyway and scanned the room for a friendly face. Jackson’s was the first one she saw, of course, but as she looked out into the room, she chose to see these strangers as allies, potential friends even.
“Well, I arrived on Mimosa Key from Minnesota one week ago today,” she said, hoping only she could detect the shakiness in her voice. “I’ve had an online business selling essential oil blends and accessories for almost two years now and when the opportunity to move here and open a small storefront became available, I jumped at the chance to take Sweet Serenity to the next level.”
There, that wasn’t so bad.
She sat quickly and Jackson shot up. “Sweet Serenity will be having a grand opening event next Friday with appetizers, drinks and tours of the space. You won’t believe the changes she’s made to the old bait shop.”
Sara returned to her feet. “We’ll also be celebrating the twenty-fifth anniversary of Beachside Rentals that same weekend.” She turned to him. “You’ve added a few new items, haven’t you? Metal detectors and scuba gear?”
Jackson nodded and winked at her. “Snorkel gear, yes. And next Saturday Sara’s having a workshop—” he pointed to the flyers she printed “—what’s it called?”
“Essential Oils for Everyday Health.” She held up the stack of papers. “Free event and I’ll be doing giveaways.”
They sat in unison, then Sara popped back up. “Oh, and Jackson will be giving a paddleboard demonstration that Saturday morning.”
“I am?” Jackson said under his breath.
There was a low rumble of amusement and interest in the room.
“You are,” Sara said with a laugh. “Remember? We talked about it at the beach.”