Serenity Harbor

by RaeAnne Thayne

  Warning bells clanged in her head, but she could barely hear them over the pounding of her heart, especially when she spotted Bowie making his way through the crowd in search of his younger brother.

  She had just been dancing with the biggest charmer in Haven Point and hadn’t been fazed at all. So why did her heartbeat suddenly skip and her breath catch in her chest at the sight of Bowie moving toward them in a coal-colored suit that showed off his slim hips and the breadth of his shoulders?

  She couldn’t seem to take her gaze off him and was vaguely aware she felt a little light-headed, then realized that was probably because she was holding her breath.

  Right. She wasn’t keeping much of a professional distance from him either.

  “Ah. I see how it is,” Jamie murmured in her ear.

  She turned to give him a slit-eyed look. “Whatever you think you see, you’re imagining things,” she snapped.

  “If you say so, darling.” He leaned down to Milo’s level. “Hello there. I’m Jamie. You must be Milo.”

  The boy nodded but kept his arms around Katrina’s waist.

  “It appears you want to dance with Katrina. Is that right?”

  Milo continued gazing up at him, clearly not sure how to respond.

  “You might not know this,” Jamie said, “but when you want to dance with another guy’s partner, next time you can tap them on the shoulder. Like this.”

  He demonstrated by shifting slightly and drumming his index finger on the shoulder of a passing male—who just happened to be his brother, Aidan. Aidan turned around with an annoyed look and gave a heavy sigh as he relinquished his stepdaughter, Maddie, who twirled with a giggle into her uncle’s arms.

  Milo watched this interaction with wide eyes, still looking confused.

  “Do you want to dance?” Katrina asked. “Here. Put your hand right here on my waist, and then we hold hands like this.”

  She put her hand on his shoulder and they stood for a moment, moving in a rather herky-jerky rhythm in a little circle. When she turned with the movement of the dance, she caught sight of Bowie standing at the edge of the plywood dance floor. He was talking to McKenzie and seemed to be listening intently to her but still didn’t take his gaze off her and Milo, which left her breathless and achy.

  “Thank you for the dance, sir,” Katrina said to Milo the moment the music stopped. He broke away from her and headed toward his brother, leaving her little choice but to follow.

  “Sorry about that,” Bowie said with an apologetic look when they reached him. “He slipped away from me.”

  “It was fun. He’s a great dancer,” she said with a smile to Milo.

  “I could see that. You’ve got the moves, kid.”

  “I’ll say,” McKenzie said. “Any chance you might want to dance with me? Maybe some of that dance skill will rub off.”

  She held an arm out. Milo looked from Katrina to Bowie and back to McKenzie, then hooked his arm through hers as the band struck up a faster dance number.

  Only after they left did Katrina realize she was now alone with Bowie. Or as alone as she could be in a backyard filled with two hundred of her closest friends and family members.

  “That surprises me,” Bowie said, looking after Kenz and Milo. “I thought he would stick pretty close to me tonight. He doesn’t like crowds or strangers much.”

  “McKenzie’s not a stranger. We’ve spent a great deal of time with her over the last few weeks, helping to get things ready for the wedding. Milo likes her—and he absolutely adores her dogs. And speaking of dogs of a different sort, I have to get out of these shoes. My feet are killing me.”

  She slipped them off and tucked them under the nearest table, where she conveniently had stowed her flip-flops for just this eventuality.

  “Emergency shoe storage. That’s handy,” he said.

  “Can I borrow your arm for a moment?”

  He held it out and she grabbed his biceps—purely for balance, she told herself—while she slipped the flip-flops onto her bare feet.

  “There. Much better,” she said, trying not to notice that delicious, woodsy scent of his aftershave that made her want to snuggle against his neck and inhale.

  She forced herself to drop her arm and step away. When she lifted her gaze to his, she thought she saw something hot and glittery flash in his eyes for just a moment—but that might have been a trick of the spotty light out here on the moonlit grass.

  “All that dancing. Can’t be easy on your feet,” he murmured.

  “Jamie was the first person I’ve danced with all night. It’s not the dancing, it’s the standing and walking, anyway. Have you ever tried to walk in high heels on grass?”

  “Can’t say I have.” His mouth twisted into a half smile. “I was going to ask you to dance, but if your feet need a rest, I totally understand.”

  “They’re fine now. I could go all night in flip-flops or barefoot,” she said, breathless all over again.

  He paused, with an endearing hesitancy in his eyes. “I don’t know, though. Without shoes, you might end up with broken toes. I’ll warn you ahead of time I’m a lousy dancer. I didn’t go to much high school—certainly not in one place long enough to go to any school dances—so I never really had the chance to learn.”

  “I’m willing to risk it,” she said softly, unable to tell him how touched she was by the confession she sensed didn’t come easily to him. “Though as an educator, I feel it’s my obligation to point out there are plenty of dance classes around, if you feel that strongly about it. We even have a free one here in Haven Point. Wilma Searle teaches ballroom dance every Tuesday night at the community center.”

  “Good to know. I’ll keep it in mind. I understand if you’d like me to take a few lessons first before you dance with me.”

  She wasn’t going to let him weasel out that easily. “Devin is a doctor. She can fix me up if I need first aid.”

  “Let’s both hope it doesn’t come to that.” He took her hand and led her out to the floor. She felt ridiculously light-headed again and sucked in a few deep breaths, but that only made her more aware of that delectable aftershave.

  His hand was warm in hers, his body tightly muscled, and she again had to fight the urge to throw her arms around his neck and hold on.

  After only a few turns around the dance floor, she drew away and gave him a mock glare. “You are such a liar!” she exclaimed. “You’re a great dancer. Apparently you’ve been taking advantage of Wilma’s ballroom dance lessons already.”

  He gave a rueful smile. “One of my college roommates had a thing for a salsa instructor, so he dragged me along to a couple of classes. Apparently a few things stuck, all these years later.”

  “In my neck of the woods, that’s what we call a con.”

  He laughed and spun her into a twirl. “Maybe a little one. I’m afraid I still won’t win any dance competitions.”

  “If it’s a life goal, Wilma probably can help you out with that,” she offered, which made him laugh again.

  “No, thanks. My need for fancy footwork is limited to the occasional wedding. And I’m good with that.”

  She was, too, she decided. It was close to perfect, with the sprawl of stars overhead and the music playing softly over the sound of the river rolling past at the edge of Cade’s lawn. She could see Wynnie and Cade dancing nearby, heads close together, and her mom dancing with Uncle Mike.

  Katrina relaxed a little more and gave herself up to the moment.

  “Has it been a good day?”

  “The best. Wyn is so happy, my heart wants to burst with joy for her.”

  He smiled a little. “That’s nice. You have a pretty tight family, don’t you?”

  “Yes. We’ve always been close.”

  “I met your brother Elliot when we first arri
ved. He was talking to Ben and Marshall. FBI, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “One brother who’s a sheriff, one who is an FBI agent, and Wynona used to be a police officer. Now you’ve got a police chief in the family. Nobody better mess with the Bailey family.”

  “Not if they know what’s good for them.”

  She smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. Her family had a long and storied history in law enforcement, but it had come at a terrible cost. “Law enforcement is something of a family tradition,” she told him. “There have been Baileys protecting the people around Lake Haven since the first European settlers came here more than a hundred and fifty years ago.”

  “You decided to break the mold, hmm?”

  “We each have our strengths,” she murmured. Law enforcement had never appealed to her in the slightest, something else that set her apart from the rest of her family.

  “Looks like Milo has a new partner,” she said to change the subject.

  He followed her gaze to where Lizzie Lawson, Milo’s teenage babysitter, had just tapped McKenzie on the shoulder so she could dance with him.

  “Man, how does he do it?” Bowie said. “I’m over here trying to keep from crushing your toes and he’s moving through all the other pretty girls at the wedding. It’s obvious which Callahan brother ended up with all the mojo.”

  “I think you do all right in the mojo department,” she murmured, then could have kicked herself when his gaze caught hers.

  For one intoxicating moment, she saw that heat glitter in his gaze and knew he wanted to kiss her again.

  The worst thing was, she wanted him, too, with a hunger that bordered on desperation. And wouldn’t that be a disaster?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THIS WAS A MISTAKE.

  He should have stayed home on Serenity Harbor, where it was safe. He didn’t need the memory of Kat in that soft swirl of a dress, her eyes that were the same color of Lake Haven in the morning reflecting the globe lights and her lovely features bright with pleasure.

  Her words seemed to echo through him. I think you do all right in the mojo department.

  He didn’t. When it came to Katrina, he felt tongue-tied and awkward, like he was sixteen again, thrust onto a college campus with coeds who scared the hell out of him.

  “While Milo is busy ripping up the dance floor, you ought to use this as a chance to get to know some of the eligible women in town,” she said briskly. “My friend Samantha, for instance. She was dancing with my cousin, but it looks like she’s available now. She’s a fantastic dancer, too. She could give you a few pointers—not that you need any, as we’ve already established.”

  He followed her gaze to her friend, leaning down to talk to a pair of older women who seemed to be holding court at a table in the corner.

  He didn’t want to dance with Samantha. He didn’t want to dance with anyone except the woman in his arms—the same one now trying to throw him at her friend. He said nothing, though, and Katrina apparently took his silence as assent. In midsong, she slipped her arm through his and tugged him to the table in the corner.

  “Hi, Eppie. Hi, Hazel. Have you met Bowie Callahan yet? He works with Aidan at Caine Tech. Bowie, these beautiful ladies are my friends Eppie and Hazel Brewer.”

  “It’s a pleasure,” Bowie said to the women, who had to be in their eighties.

  The one who looked like the older of the two winked at him. “We haven’t officially met, but we know who you are. We’ve seen you around town.”

  Bowie wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Uh, next time I’ll know to say hello,” he finally said.

  “You bought that big house on Serenity Harbor, didn’t you?” the other woman said.

  “I did.”

  “How do you like Haven Point so far?” she pressed.

  “It’s a lovely town. I’m enjoying it so far.” What else was he supposed to say?

  “I was just telling Bowie that Sam is the best dancer I know,” Katrina said. “Sam, would you care to show him a few moves while I go take care of a few bridesmaidy things?”

  “Sure,” Samantha Fremont said, jumping up from her chair so quickly she almost knocked it backward. He wanted to tell her he had to find his brother, but it wouldn’t have been true, since he could clearly see Lizzie had the Milo situation well in hand.

  He didn’t mind dancing with Sam Fremont. She was pretty and vivacious and seemed nice enough every time he talked to her. He just didn’t like Katrina cornering him into it. With few options available to him that wouldn’t seem rude, he held out a hand and led the other woman out to the dance floor.

  “I understand you made the bride’s dress and her bridesmaids’ dresses,” he said. “They’re lovely.”

  She gave him a bright smile. “I didn’t make them on my own. I designed them, piecing together a couple of patterns we saw in magazines, but my mother did most of the sewing.”

  “How long have you been a dressmaker?”

  That was apparently exactly the right question because she launched into what was basically a soliloquy about studying business and textile design in college, rooming with Katrina at Boise State, then coming home to take over her mother’s struggling boutique in town.

  He liked the woman, but he was aware the entire time he danced with her that he didn’t feel any kind of spark—certainly not when compared with the inferno that threatened to consume him when he had Katrina in his arms.

  “I don’t know what Kat was talking about. You don’t need any dance lessons,” she said in an exasperated voice.

  He managed a smile, but before he could answer, Milo hurried over to him and hovered at his side.

  “Done dancing, kiddo?” he asked his brother. Bowie thought of what a strain it must be on Milo to tolerate being touched as long as he had managed.

  His brother nodded and pointed to his throat.

  “I get it,” Bowie said. “All that dancing made you thirsty. Should we grab a drink and a piece of cake and then head home?”

  Milo nodded vigorously, so he excused himself from Samantha and led his brother to the lace-covered tables where various beverages and an assortment of delicacies had been laid out.

  They picked a few pieces of cake and some punch and headed to an empty table in the corner. Several people he had met around town stopped to say hello as they went, and a couple of them even greeted Milo by name, though Bowie had no idea how his brother might have met so many people.

  Katrina probably deserved the credit. She had done a good job of introducing his brother around, which would certainly help pave Milo’s way in the future.

  Haven Point was a nice place. Bowie was gradually coming to see exactly how nice. What would it have been like to grow up in a community like this, somewhere caring and decent and normal?

  “Are you about finished?” he asked Milo a short time later. The boy had a trail of chocolate frosting from his mouth nearly to his ear. Bowie picked up a napkin and dabbed at it. “There. Much better. Let’s go give our best wishes to the bride and groom again and then head home.”

  “Kat?” Milo asked.

  It was rapidly becoming his brother’s favorite word. Bowie didn’t want to think about how it was becoming his own, too.

  “We can say goodbye to her, too.”

  That task was made easier when he found Katrina in a small group that included the bride and groom and her mother and stepfather/uncle.

  “Thank you for a lovely evening,” Bowie said. “Milo, what do you say?”

  His brother did the ASL sign for thank you, tapping his flat hand to his chin and moving it straight down—something Katrina had taught him.

  She gave a soft laugh and made the sign in return, which she had informed Bowie was one way of also saying you’re welcome.
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  “You’re leaving?” Charlene Bailey exclaimed in a disappointed voice. “It seems like you only arrived.”

  “Yes. We only planned to stop for a moment, but we ended up having so much fun, we stayed longer than we intended to enjoy the dancing.”

  “Thanks so much for coming, Bowie.” Wynona Bailey—now Emmett, he remembered—gave him a broad smile.

  “You’re welcome. Congratulations again to both of you. Thank you for inviting us.”

  “You’re welcome. Good night.”

  His wave encompassed all of them—though he didn’t miss the way Katrina seemed to be avoiding his gaze.

  His brother reached for Katrina’s hand and started tugging, pulling her along with them.

  “I’m not going with you right now,” she said with a laugh. “I have to stay at the party for a while longer. But I’ll be there in the morning. I promise.”

  “Kat,” Milo said in a loud voice.

  “Let go, kiddo,” Bowie said, which only made his brother tug harder.

  “Kat!” he said, louder still.

  Panic welled up in Bowie as he recognized all the signs that Milo was rapidly heading for a tantrum. The boy wanted Katrina with them and couldn’t understand why they had to leave her behind.

  “Katrina is staying here with her family.” He tried to guide his brother toward the break in the fence that led to the front yard, but Milo was really good at planting his feet, making himself immovable.

  “Why don’t I walk you to your car?” Katrina suggested, and Bo was a little embarrassed at the depth of his gratitude.

  “I don’t want to drag you away from the reception, but that would be helpful,” he admitted. At the very least, it would take Milo away from the crowd in the event his brother launched into one of his full-scale nuclear meltdowns.

  “No problem.”

  She walked with them through the lovely backyard and down Riverbend Road to where he had parked. At the vehicle, she went so far as to get Milo strapped into his booster seat before she shut the door.

  “Thank you. Again,” Bowie said. “What did we ever do before you came? And how will we ever get along without you?”