Dogwood Hill

by Sherryl Woods

  Sean blinked. “Huh?”

  “I’ll explain on the way home,” Thomas said, scowling at Mick.

  As Mick watched the two of them cross the lawn, his booming laugh trailed after them. Nothing much he liked better than getting under his brother’s skin from time to time. It beat most of those hobbies his wife was always telling him he should try.

  10

  Even though her planned dinner with Aidan was emphatically not a date, it felt a whole lot as if it was, Liz concluded as she yanked one outfit after another from her closet, then tossed them aside as all wrong. Brady’s wasn’t fancy, but it did seem to require something dressier than her old teaching wardrobe of slacks and tailored blouses, which she also tended to wear at the store because they were comfortable.

  Okay, dressier wasn’t exactly right, either, she admitted to herself. She wanted something more feminine and just wanting that scared her because it seemed to prove that this was a date, after all. Otherwise, it wouldn’t matter to her how she looked.

  Women always care how they look, she mentally defended herself as she tossed aside a perfectly acceptable dress that she would have worn out with anyone else.

  “Oh, just pick something,” she grumbled finally, reaching back into her closet. Her hand landed on a sundress that came with a saucy little midriff-length sweater that was perfect for a night that promised to be a little cool. So what if the dress had a slightly revealing neckline? The bright blue color and sprinkling of daisies across the fabric made it cheerful and feminine. It was meant to be worn on an occasion just like this one. In fact, she’d bought it on impulse on sale last summer on the off chance she’d ever again have a special evening planned. It still had the price tags attached, which probably proved just how dull she’d allowed her social life to become.

  Satisfied at last, she was dressed in minutes. She picked up a bottle of her favorite perfume, then found herself debating whether perfume suggested a date. Thoroughly impatient with herself for regressing to the behavior of an unsophisticated teenager with a first boyfriend, she spritzed the light scent into the air and walked through the mist.

  When Aidan knocked, Archie went nuts as usual, racing impatiently between her bedroom and the door and back as if to hurry her up.

  “Would you please just calm down?” she ordered, laughing, “before I trip and wind up on the floor.”

  She was still laughing when she opened the door. Aidan’s eyes widened appreciatively, his gaze never once leaving her as he petted Archie distractedly.

  “You look amazing,” he said at last.

  Liz smiled. Exactly the effect she’d been going for, even if she hadn’t wanted to admit it. “Thank you.”

  “You ready to go?”

  Not really, she thought, fearful of the way her pulse seemed to be suddenly scrambling and of the long-missing hum of excitement that had stirred in her blood. “All set,” she forced herself to say.

  Even though she argued that Brady’s was close enough to walk there, Aidan insisted on taking his car.

  “You’ve been on your feet all day.” He glanced down at the strappy, sexy heels she’d put on at the last minute. “And those shoes don’t look to me as if they’re meant for long strolls.”

  “Probably not,” she admitted. They were pretty and very feminine, but not especially practical.

  At the restaurant, they found the foyer jammed with people waiting for tables, just as she’d predicted. Aidan slipped through the crowd to claim their reservation, then returned to her side.

  “They told me it would be about ten minutes. Want to wait here or in the bar?”

  “Here’s fine,” she said.

  “So, how was business today?” he asked. “Any letdown after the holiday weekend last week?”

  “Maybe a little, but it was still surprisingly busy. More locals came in, I think. I’m discovering they tend to avoid the big holiday crowds. Several mentioned to me that they prefer the quieter weekdays when the tourists have gone home. I can’t say I blame them. That’s when Chesapeake Shores is at its best.”

  He studied her, then smiled. “You really love it here, don’t you?”

  Liz nodded. “I do, more and more. How about you? You regretting that you didn’t commit to being here longer?”

  To her regret, Aidan shook his head.

  “One year was the right thing to do. That said, this is starting to feel like home. Or maybe I’ve just found my comfort zone now that I’m working with the team.”

  Liz was about to ask how that was going when Porter and Pamela Hobbs walked out of the main dining room and straight toward them. She noticed Aidan tensing at their approach.

  “Mitchell,” Porter said tersely.

  “Mr. Hobbs,” Aidan said stiffly. “Mrs. Hobbs. How was your dinner?”

  “Overcooked,” Pamela said sourly. “I don’t recommend you have the prime rib. I had to send it back twice.”

  Liz fought to hide a smile. Little wonder it was overcooked, if the waiter had taken it back to the kitchen twice. It was a wonder he hadn’t thrown it in her face. Brady, however, was known for training his staff to accommodate the customers’ wishes, no matter how unreasonable or demanding.

  “I’ll definitely keep that in mind,” Liz told her.

  Porter scowled at Aidan. “I had a talk with Mick O’Brien the other day,” he reported.

  “Is that so?” Aidan said mildly, not sounding especially surprised.

  “I gather you’d run to him tattling on me,” Porter said derisively.

  “Actually I didn’t,” Aidan said. “Mick stopped by practice. He saw the boys in action and wanted to know how the team is shaping up. I told him.”

  “I know what you told him,” Porter said irritably. “You’re going to pick that Santos kid over my boy. I warned you about that.”

  Liz noted that Aidan didn’t back away. Nor did he seem intimidated by the man’s bluster.

  “And I told Mick the same thing I told you, that I was brought here to do what’s best for the team. Taylor and I’ve had a talk about putting him in a different position, one where he can make a real contribution to the team. He’s eager to try that. You should come by. He and Hector have a real connection on the field, probably because Taylor has played at quarterback. He understands the routes. He can anticipate exactly where Hector intends to throw a pass. He’s got not only the instincts, but the hands to make the reception.”

  Porter didn’t seem the least bit pacified. “The boy was meant to play quarterback,” he said, refusing to back down.

  “Let me ask you this,” Aidan suggested, his tone reasonable. “Would you rather have him develop as a mediocre quarterback who won’t get the attention of a single college scout, or a star receiver who can take his pick of some of the best football programs in the country?”

  Porter finally looked intrigued, as well he should, Liz thought, impressed with Aidan’s argument.

  “You think he can do that?” Porter asked, a noticeable gleam in his eyes.

  “Porter, honey, don’t let him try to sweet-talk you into changing your mind,” Pamela argued. “We know what’s best for our son. Everyone knows it’s the quarterback who gets the money and attention.”

  Liz wanted to step in and remind her of who had the pro football experience and the coach’s job, but she kept quiet, mostly because it was obvious Aidan didn’t need her help. Porter seemed to be wavering at last.

  “I asked you a question,” Porter reminded Aidan, shooting a quelling look at his wife that silenced her.

  “Come by and watch the two of them,” Aidan suggested. “Then you tell me.”

  “I’ll be there Monday afternoon,” Porter said. “I’d better be impressed by what I see.”

  “I think you will be,” Aidan replied.

  “I�
��m coming with you,” Pamela said, not looking nearly as convinced as her husband. “I want to see for myself what all this hype is about that Santos kid.” She frowned at Aidan. “You’d better hope this is not about some liberal, knee-jerk attempt to play favorites because the boy’s Hispanic and deserves a break he hasn’t earned.”

  Liz spotted a muscle tic in Aidan’s jaw and knew the limits of his diplomatic skills were being sorely tested. She’d held her tongue up to now, but she couldn’t let Pamela’s ill-considered remark slide.

  “I’ve spent a little time with Hector,” she told the couple. “He’s a very nice young man. He’s humble, smart and eager to help the team. So is Taylor. You should be proud of that.”

  Pamela frowned at the suggestion by someone they barely knew that they weren’t taking pride in their son’s willingness to be a team player. “Of course we’re proud of Taylor. We want the best for him.”

  “As all parents want the best for their children,” Aidan said. “My job is to go beyond that and figure out what’s best for the team. Ultimately that will make each of these kids shine, too.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” Porter conceded reluctantly, though Pamela still didn’t look satisfied.

  “We’ll be there Monday afternoon,” Porter repeated, almost as if it were meant as a warning. “Come along, Pamela.”

  Just then the maître d’ came to take Liz and Aidan to their table. Only when they were seated did Liz meet Aidan’s gaze.

  “Well, that was fun,” she commented as she took a sip of her water. Her mouth seemed to have gone dry as a result of all that tension. “Is that what it’s been like for you the past couple of weeks? Are you getting pressure from every direction?”

  “To be honest, Porter’s the only one who’s made any kind of a fuss,” Aidan said. “Hopefully, once he sees what those two boys can do on the field, he’ll back off.”

  Liz studied him closely. “Any regrets now about going into coaching? Dealing with Porter would be enough to send me packing.”

  Aidan laughed. “You never met my mom. I think dealing with Porter is some kind of karmic payback for me. I’m pretty sure she came close to driving my high school coach into an early grave. She watched the Giants and the Jets every Sunday, studied them, in fact. She thought she knew everything there was to know about the game and about my ability to play it. I’m surprised she didn’t insist on sitting on the bench and naming herself assistant coach. I keep reminding myself about that whenever I have to deal with Porter.”

  He grinned at her. “Thankfully, by the time I went to college, I’d convinced her to back off.”

  Liz stared at him. “You’re kidding. It took that long? You must have been humiliated.”

  “Not really. I suppose I was embarrassed from time to time, especially when my teammates would get on my case, but I got what she was doing. No kid ever had a bigger advocate than Anna Mitchell. It started when I played in a Pop Warner league and never let up. I think she was determined to fill the role she imagined a father would have filled if my dad had been around. Trust me, there were dads whose behavior was a whole lot more humiliating.”

  “Was it tough?” Liz asked. “Not having your father in your life?”

  An odd expression washed over Aidan’s face, one she couldn’t quite read. There was a hint of sadness, yes, but also something else. Bitterness, maybe. Since he usually seemed so upbeat about his upbringing, it surprised her a little.

  “As a little kid, I had a lot of questions about why I didn’t have a dad around,” he revealed eventually. “Mostly what my mom did was remind me that we were so lucky to have each other.”

  “She never told you about your father, not even when you asked?”

  “She had a standard response, one that painted a rosy picture of an incredible man who simply hadn’t been ready to be a dad. I tried my best to take my cues from her. She didn’t seem to hate him for that, so how could I? Besides, I could see how sad it made her to think that she wasn’t enough for me.”

  “So even as a boy, you were intuitive and kind,” Liz surmised.

  “I loved my mom,” he said simply. “I didn’t want to make her unhappy. Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t a saint. I lashed out from time to time and accused her of trying to keep me from my dad. I even threatened to take off and find him, but mostly I kept my questions and my resentment to myself.”

  “That’s very noble. Didn’t you ever want some genetic history or a name?”

  “Sure, and more than once as I got older I thought about digging around and trying to find answers on my own, but I thought about how disrespectful that might seem to her. And I told myself, when it came right down to it, what did it matter? Why would I want to know someone who didn’t care enough about either of us to be in our lives.”

  Liz didn’t entirely buy that he’d been that mature about it. Oh, she believed he loved his mom and hadn’t wanted to distress her, but a teenager’s curiosity about who’d fathered him wasn’t usually pacified by logic.

  She saw Aidan studying her, a faint smile on his lips. “You think I’m glossing over how much this bothered me, don’t you?”

  “Are you?”

  “Okay, I’ve been resentful and bitter at times, no question about it, but I covered that up with my mom. There were times as I got older when I wanted to demand answers, but just when I might have pushed for them, my mom got cancer. After that my whole focus was on trying to support her.” His expression turned sad. “And then it was too late.” He gave her a wry look. “There was no deathbed confession of the truth, in case you’re wondering.”

  “So you still don’t know any more about the man who fathered you?”

  Instead of a direct answer, he gave her a puzzled look. “Why are you so concerned about this? It’s ancient history. My ancient history.”

  Liz was taken aback by his sharp tone. “I guess I was just trying to picture myself in your shoes, having all these huge questions left unanswered.”

  He held her gaze. “I know who I am, Liz. I know the kind of man I am, and it was Anna Mitchell who made me into that man, not some guy who provided sperm.”

  The heated response made her squirm. What had she been thinking, digging into such a private topic and suggesting he’d handled it all wrong? She was the one who’d been putting up walls, and now she was climbing over them herself, trying to turn this into a more intimate relationship than she herself had claimed to want.

  “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “I really didn’t mean to upset you. I grew up with my family intact. I had lots of friends whose parents were divorced, but at least both parents were in their lives to one degree or another. It’s hard for me to picture growing up without ever seeing a parent or knowing anything about the kind of person they are. I guess I was projecting what I imagined my reaction would be onto you.”

  Aidan stared out at the bay, then took a drink of his water before he finally faced her again. “I took my mother at her word, that he was a good man. For most of my life that was enough for me. It had to be.”

  Liz didn’t believe for an instant that he still felt that way, because the shadows in his eyes when he said it told another story entirely. Clearly, though, it was a story he didn’t intend to share with her. And hadn’t she had enough of men with secrets to last a lifetime? It was just one more reminder about the wisdom of keeping Aidan at arm’s length.

  * * *

  Once dinner came—neither of them had the prime rib—the conversation turned casual and Aidan finally allowed himself to relax. All that talk about his dad had left him jittery and uncomfortable. Sure, he’d had questions, maybe a million of them. He still did, but he was finally in a position to get a few of them answered. He just wasn’t ready to share that information with anyone, not even this woman who seemed to be genuinely concerned about him.

  He glan
ced across the table, noting the color in Liz’s cheeks, possibly put there by the one glass of wine she’d allowed herself. Strands of blond hair had escaped her topknot to curl carelessly about her face. She looked relaxed and infinitely more approachable than she probably intended.

  “Dessert? Coffee?” he asked, not eager for the night to end, despite those earlier uncomfortable moments.

  She studied the dessert menu, then put it aside with a sigh of regret. “Not for me.”

  He grinned. “You don’t even want to share that chocolate lava cake with me?”

  Her eyes lit up, just as he’d anticipated. He’d learned that women could resist a lot of treats, but that one seemed to call to them. It usually became irresistible after just the tiniest bit of encouragement from him.

  “You promise you’ll eat most of it?” she asked.

  “Promise,” he said solemnly, beckoning for the waiter. When he’d placed the order for the decadent cake and two decaf coffees, he sat back and studied her.

  She was a mass of contradictions tonight. That dress with its revealing neckline sent out one message that contradicted every word she spoke about what she was looking for in her life. Or more specifically, what she didn’t want. Even as she held him almost literally at arm’s length, her demeanor and questions invited him into a more personal relationship. Aidan didn’t know what to make of her. He certainly couldn’t see that they were headed in the direction that was expected by a whole slew of O’Briens.

  And yet there was that undeniable spark of electricity, the one they were both so determinedly ignoring.

  When the waiter returned with the warm cake with its dark chocolate interior and ice cream melting into that fudgy moistness, he watched as Liz dipped her spoon into the gooey concoction, then put it into her mouth, closing her eyes with a moan of pleasure.

  Desire ricocheted through him like a heat-seeking missile. Dessert—at least this particular one with this particular woman—had definitely been a bad idea. It was putting thoughts into his head that had nothing to do with food. That was something that had never happened before. Usually he was content just to observe his date’s enjoyment of something she usually denied herself.