by Heather B. Moore, Kaylee Baldwin, Annette Lyon, Jennifer Moore, Shannon Guymon, Sarah M. Eden
“Why are guys so stupid? You two hit it off, and he doesn’t ask you out for real? That’s lame.”
Ada adjusted her sunhat to shade her face better. “In his defense, I could ask him just as easily.”
“So why haven’t you?”
Why haven’t I? “Probably because I figured he’d say no. I got a strong he’s-just-not-that-into-you vibe this week.”
“But he asked you out,” Shantice repeated for the hundredth time that week. “That sounds interested to me.”
Ada shrugged. What could she say? She’d thought he was interested too.
“Maybe his divorce was nasty,” Shantice said. “That makes dating seem like a disaster waiting to happen.”
Could be.
“And you said he has a kid. That would make any guy— any decent guy anyway— more cautious.”
“I wasn’t looking to move in or take over his life. I was just hoping for a second date.”
And yet, Shantice had a point. He had reason to be careful. But she’d also thought there had been a reason to talk to her about something other than his condo.
“Ada!” Shantice’s whisper was almost frantic. “Ada, look. Look who’s talking to Devon. Look!”
She knew that dark, wavy hair in an instant. Craig. How was this possible? Miles of beaches, millions of people, and Craig was standing right there, talking to Shantice’s boyfriend. A boy— Jack, probably— was playing with Ruff.
“It’s fate,” Shantice whispered. She whistled, and Ruff came bounding over.
Ada was immediately on alert, sitting straight up in her chair. She didn’t trust the scheming look in Shantice’s eyes. “What are you doing?”
“Getting you a second date.” Shantice waved the dog over more eagerly.
An instant after Ruff arrived, Jack did too. The dog’s tail wagged excitedly.
“You can keep petting him if you want,” Shantice said. “He likes you, I can tell.”
“He’s great,” Jack declared, popping to his knees in the sand and going to town petting the dog and scratching behind his ears.
“His name’s Ruff. I’m Shantice. This is my friend Ada.”
“My dad knows someone named Ada,” Jack said, not looking away from Ruff. “He told my aunt Bianca about her.”
Shantice shot her wide-eyed look and an I-told-you-so nod. Ada didn’t let herself get her hopes up. Bianca Adamson was a friend of a friend. She was the one who suggested that her brother-in-law hire Ada. Craig could have mentioned her as nothing more than his Realtor.
“I know your dad, actually,” she told Jack. “I’m helping him buy his new house.”
“Oh, then you’re not Coffee Ada.” Jack shrugged, looking a little disappointed.
“Coffee Ada,” Shantice mouthed.
Ada's heart leaped around unexpectedly. She was usually pretty levelheaded. “I might be,” she told Jack. “We did have coffee on Friday.”
That brought the boy’s gaze to her face at last. “Really?”
“Really.”
Jack jumped to his feet. “Don’t go anywhere, Ruff.” Then he bolted toward the waves. “Dad! Dad!”
Ada couldn’t hear what he said, but Jack pointed back at her as he spoke to his father. Almost as if in slow motion, Craig turned his head in her direction. Surprise registered on his face, followed by a slow, heart-melting smile.
“You are so getting a second date,” Shantice said.
Ada couldn’t take her eyes off Craig. “That smile. It’s killer, isn’t it?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“And he’s a genuinely good guy, which is even better. Smart. Funny. A great dad.” It was little wonder she’d wanted a second date so badly. You didn’t meet someone like that every day.
Craig, Jack, and Devon made their way over, Craig eying her with curiosity.
“Hi,” she said when he was in earshot.
“Small world. What brings you out?”
She moved her sunglasses to the top of her head. “I thought I’d come watch the seagulls attack some tourists.”
“Hey, Dad, that’s what we do!” Jack had a nine-year-old’s version of his dad’s smile. In a few more years, he would break some hearts.
“Have you seen any attacks today?” she asked Jack.
“Nah. The seagulls are busy or something.” His eyes kept darting to Ruff, who ran back and forth between Shantice and Devon.
Craig, however, was looking at her.
“Do you and Devon know each other?” she asked.
“We go to the same gym, though he’s obviously getting more out of his membership.” He patted his belly as if there were a big gut hiding under his close-fitting t-shirt rather than the trim stomach actually there.
She stroked her chin in an overdone show of contemplation. “I’m sure there’s a protein shake for that.”
Good grief, that smile!
Devon held a hand out to Shantice. “Come into the water, babe. It’s not that cold, I swear.”
The doubtful look she threw at him was almost comical.
Devon tried again. “If it’s freezing, I’ll get you a tea on the way home, okay?”
Shantice took his hand in one of hers, the other holding her hat against the stiff breeze, and let him pull her to her feet. Before walking out with Devon, she shot Craig a quick look. “You can use my chair. Then Ada won’t have to crane her neck so far back to talk to you.”
He took the offer, plopping next to Ada as though entirely comfortable around her. So he probably hadn’t hated their coffee non-date. Why were guys so hard to figure out?
“How does Jack feel about switching schools?” she asked.
“He didn’t throw a party or anything, but he seems okay with it. Jack’s a resilient kid. He’s had to be with everything that’s happened.”
Ada could appreciate that. “My folks split up when I was a little younger than he is. They never quit hating each other, and my brothers and I were always caught in the middle. We learned quickly how to negotiate any minefield.” It had been a miserable way to grow up.
“That’s why I try so hard to get along with my ex. It’s not Jack’s fault our marriage fell apart, and I don’t want him to suffer for it any more than he has to.” He shook his head, even laughed a little bit. “I don’t know how you get me to spill so many things. I don’t usually talk about myself so much.”
She slid her sunglasses into place once more. “I’m telling you, it’s a superpower.”
His attention returned to Jack, who was laughing uproariously as he and Ruff chased each other. “Why do I get the feeling I’m going to have to buy a dog?”
“That’s a dog’s superpower.”
Craig’s laugh sounded very much like a deeper version of his son’s. “Dogs get kids addicted. It’s underhanded.”
“Shantice and Ruff come here almost every Saturday morning. You’re welcome to bring Jack if he ever needs a dog fix. I’m here, too, whenever I can get a Saturday morning off.”
Did that sound pathetic? Could he tell she was hoping he’d start showing up here on Saturday mornings?
“This beach is closer to the new condo than our old place. I thought I’d let Jack get used to coming here.”
They’re going to be regulars. Ada held back a gleeful squeal. “There’s a great hot dog joint a quick walk from here. If you two aren’t in a hurry, I’d love to treat you both to some lunch. You did pay for coffee last time, after all.”
Oh, man. That was definitely pathetic. It was embarrassing enough to not get asked out over the phone. To ask him out— sort of— in person only to have her invitation rejected would be humiliating.
“I think we could be talked into a couple of hot dogs.” Craig didn’t sound blown away by the idea, but he also didn’t seem to have any real objection to it.
Ada took that as a tentative victory. A step forward, anyway. They sat there, soaking up the sun, chatting about a million different things, while Jack ran around with Ruff. Conversation had been easy between them from
the very beginning. Didn’t he see that? Wasn’t he at all curious to find out if there could be something more between them than friendly banter?
As noon approached, his son said, “Hey, Jack! You hungry?”
“Starving.” Jack dropped onto the towel near Craig’s chair.
“Ada knows of a hot-dog place nearby. She’s going to take us.”
Jack flashed Ada a heart-tugging smile. “Awesome!”
Jack carried the conversation as they walked to get lunch. Ada heard all about his friends, his pet fish Francisco, his new swim trunks, and his new home. Though she was thoroughly familiar with the townhouse, she let Jack tell her everything he knew and thought about it. The boy was a charmer, for sure. He didn’t stop talking until he took the first bite of his hot dog.
“I should have warned you that he likes to talk,” Craig said under his voice.
She waved off the unspoken apology. “I’m used to it. My brothers were all the same way, and their kids are the same.”
“Our new house has a pool,” Jack tossed out between bites.
“That’s great,” Ada said. “Sounds like you’re a swimmer.”
Jack shrugged. He spoke, though he was still chewing. “I usually swim at my mom’s house. It’s the only thing she likes to do with me.”
In that moment, Ada’s heart broke. It’s the only thing she likes to do with me. She glanced at Craig. Tension tugged at his eyes and mouth, though he did a good job of hiding it.
“Your dad tells me you play basketball.”
Jack lit up again. “I’m good.”
Ada leaned a little closer to him. “So am I.”
Jack’s eyes grew wide. “Really?”
“Really. I played in high school and college.”
“No way,” the two Adamson men said in unison.
“Way.”
“What position do you play?” Jack asked.
Craig hazarded a guess before she could answer. “Point guard.”
“How’d you know?”
“It fits you.” He wiped a bit of mustard off the corner of his mouth. “You’re not super tall— no offense— but more than that, you’re a strategist. You approach real estate the way a point guard approaches a game. It’s all about taking stock of the situation, figuring out what people need even if they don’t see it.”
Ada was pretty sure she was blushing. That was the kind of compliment women wanted to get but seldom did: an acknowledgment of her strengths and abilities. Most of the time, all women heard about was their looks, as if that was their defining characteristic.
She looked at Jack. “What position do you like best?”
He sat up straighter. “I’m a power forward.”
Ada loved the confidence and enthusiasm in that declaration. “Up top, dude.” She held her hand up for a high-five and received an enthusiastic one. “What’s your favorite shot?”
“Layup, but I’m not very good at it yet. Dad said I just have to keep practicing.”
“I was never good at layups.”
Jack gave her a duh look. “You are a point guard.”
She and Craig laughed at that. She liked Jack. What a great kid.
“Do you play on a team?”
He finished off his hot dog. “The Gorillas.”
“City league,” Craig filled in.
“We have a game on Tuesday. You could come if you want.” Jack sounded so hopeful. Did his mom ever come to his games? Maybe she lived too far away.
“What time is your game?” she asked.
Craig cut off Jack’s response with a wave of his hand. “Ada, you don’t have to.”
“I like basketball,” she assured him. “It’d be fun.”
But he was shaking his head. “It’s okay, really.”
“But—”
“He doesn’t need you to come.”
That was too pointed to be misunderstood. It wasn’t so much that Jack didn’t need her there, but rather that Craig didn’t want her there.
“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to—”
To like basketball. To be nice to your kid. To ask you on another non-date date.
“Sorry.”
Jack’s gaze darted from one of them to the other. She tried to smile, but it felt awkward. “They have good ice cream here. You want a cone?” she asked him. “If it’s okay with your dad.”
“Can I, Dad? Please?”
Craig sighed a little— not a good sign. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt.”
“Vanilla or chocolate?” she asked Jack.
“Vanilla,” he answered firmly.
Ada jumped up from the table, grateful to leave them behind for a minute. She wasn’t sure where things had gone wrong, but they definitely had. She hadn’t been pushy or anything.
What did I do?
“Ada, wait up.”
She slowed, but didn’t look at him. A person could only be shot down so many times.
“Look, I—”
“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t mean to push myself where I’m not welcome. I like basketball, and youth league games are fun to watch. No big deal.” She got in line for ice cream, still not looking at him.
“You and I— we just don’t know each other very well.” He’d apparently followed her all the way to the line.
“I know,” she answered quickly. “No biggie.”
“Jack’s a friendly kid, and he welcomes people into his life without thinking. I don’t want to see him get hurt.”
She held her hands up in a show of frustration. “How could my going to a basketball game hurt him?”
He turned stone-faced. “People have walked out on him. I have spent years holding him together. I have reasons to be careful.”
“There’s a difference between being careful and not giving someone a chance.”
“I’ve known you for two weeks,” he said. “Not inviting you into my son’s life is reasonably cautious.”
He had a point. But it still stung.
“Next,” the guy at the counter called.
Ada stepped up. “A vanilla cone, a chocolate cone, and—” She looked over at Craig. “What do you want?”
He did three-quarters of a double take. “You’re still buying us ice cream?”
She rolled her eyes. He really did think she was a flake who broke promises on a whim. “Vanilla or chocolate?”
“Chocolate.” The statement had the vaguest hint of a question behind it.
The rest of their non-date lunch date was every bit as awkward as he’d predicted their first one would be. Jack seemed oblivious, which was the only good thing Ada could say about the afternoon. The moment Jack finished his cone, Craig said they had to go.
Ada pretended the declaration didn’t seem like a desperate attempt to escape. “I’ll let you know if anything changes with your closing date,” Ada said. “But as of yesterday, everything was on schedule.”
“Sounds good.”
No, it sounded… disappointing.
Chapter Five
“I can’t believe you convinced me to do this,” Craig told Bianca. They sat in his car outside a stranger’s home, contemplating his next move.
“I’ve listened to you whine for almost a week about how you messed up with Ada,” Bianca said. “You have to try to fix it.”
“But at her book club? That’s so—”
“Romantic,” Bianca said. “Didn’t you see Jerry Maguire?”
Wait, she was having him reenact a scene from a chick flick? Not a good sign. “Public humiliation is not my jam.”
“Really? Because the story about the ice cream/hot dog fiasco says otherwise.”
He lightly banged his head against the steering wheel. “I am so bad at this.”
“Luckily, being really bad at talking to someone you’re interested in is kind of endearing.” Bianca twitched her head toward the house. “Go tell her what you’ve been telling me. Ada’s reasonable, and, if Gina’s right, she’s totally into you. So go talk to her.”
<
br /> Gina was Ada and Bianca’s mutual friend. He hoped Gina was a reliable source for gossip.
“You’re telling me to man up,” he said.
“Pretty much.”
He squared his shoulders and opened the car door. “Don’t steal my car while I’m gone.”
The walk to the front door was one of the longest he’d ever made. This would either turn out to be a great idea or a huge mistake. He rang the doorbell and waited.
He and Ada hardly knew each other. Why, then, had he been unable to get her out of his mind? The business-like phone calls they’d had about the townhouse ever since the beach had been torture. He’d driven his brother and sister-in-law crazy by going on and on about Ada and the fallout in the ice-cream line. There was just something about her, and he needed to figure out what.
The door opened. Craig reminded himself of the need for this to happen. “Is Ada Canton here?” he asked the woman who’d answered.
“Yeah.” She motioned him inside and around the corner to a living room. “Ada, someone’s here to see you.”
A dozen pairs of eyes focused on him, including Ada’s deep-brown ones.
She stared a moment, not speaking, not moving. Her mouth hung the tiniest bit open. “Craig?”
“I don’t want to interrupt, I just— Could we talk for a minute?”
“Yeah, sure.” She crossed toward him. “Is something wrong?”
Everyone was still watching. “Outside, maybe?”
She agreed. He had a few more moments to try to decide what to say. They stopped on the front step. Ada watched him expectantly. Despite having rehearsed this moment over and over, his mind turned completely blank. He’d have to wing it.
“I— I’m kind of an idiot.”
She didn’t disagree.
“I’ve been thinking about how things went that afternoon at the beach, and I owe you an apology.”
“I’m listening.”
Time to explain what he didn’t entirely understand himself. “Jack likes you. And understandably— you’re a great person.”
She smiled ruefully. “Thanks.”
“I saw Jack getting hopeful, and I panicked.” He still got a little panicked when he thought about it. “His mom walked out on us when he was four. She decided that being a wife and a mom wasn’t really her thing. I have primary custody, and seeing him every other weekend is enough for her. But it’s not enough for him. He hides it well, but I know it hurts.”