Dogwood Hill (A Chesapeake Shores Novel - Book 12)

by Unknown

  She instinctively avoided Dogwood Hill and headed toward the bay, where the winding road would take her toward The Inn at Eagle Point. From there, she wound her way back toward town and Shore Road, which would probably still be bustling on the warm late-spring evening.

  With the music playing and her concentration focused on her breathing, she was startled when someone stepped in front of her and blocked her path. Shaken, she looked up into Aidan’s face.

  Pulling the earbuds from her ears, she scowled at him. “You scared me to death!”

  “I’ve been calling your name for the past block,” he said.

  She gestured to the iPod. “Sorry. I was listening to music.”

  “It’s a little late for a run, isn’t it?” he asked. “Even in Chesapeake Shores, you probably shouldn’t be out alone at this hour.”

  She gave him an incredulous look. “It’s barely ten.”

  He tapped his watch. “Check again. It’s going on midnight.”

  Liz regarded him with shock. “That can’t be. I know when I got home it was going on ten.”

  “And then you, what? Changed clothes? Ran—where exactly?”

  “Up to the inn,” she conceded, then sighed. “I guess it was farther than I realized. Or maybe I’m just slower. I’m a little out of practice.”

  “Any particular reason you decided to go for a run in the first place at this hour?”

  She shrugged. “It clears my head.”

  “Of?”

  She smiled. “This and that.”

  “Ah, the woman has secrets,” he said.

  She held his gaze. “Don’t we all?”

  “I suppose you’re right,” he said, looking vaguely uncomfortable. He gestured across the street. “Panini Bistro hasn’t closed yet. Want to grab something to drink before you head home? It doesn’t seem to be crowded with O’Briens at this hour.”

  “I wouldn’t mind some bottled water,” she admitted.

  “Come on, then,” he said, taking her elbow and guiding her across the street. “You grab a table out here. It’s too nice to sit inside. I’ll get the drinks.”

  Liz nodded. “That works.”

  She sat down gratefully, suddenly aware in every muscle that the run had taken her farther than she usually went. At least it had served its avowed purpose of clearing her head of thoughts of Josh. Sadly, though, it seemed Aidan was now front and center once again. Why couldn’t she just give in to the inevitable and engage in some hot, steamy sex? That would definitely clear her head, at least temporarily.

  And that, of course, was precisely why she couldn’t. Sex was easy. It was fun. It was after sex that emotions could get all tangled up and life could get really complicated.

  When Aidan returned with two cold bottles of water, she studied him and noted that he was dressed more casually than usual. In fact, she thought, hiding a smile, it looked as if he’d grabbed that T-shirt straight from the dryer.

  “Did you get dressed in a hurry?” she asked.

  He glanced down at his shirt and grimaced. “You’d think that, wouldn’t you? But no—I played basketball with a bunch of the O’Briens tonight. This shirt is a little the worse for wear. In fact, if I were you, I’d stay downwind of me.”

  Liz laughed. “I’ve always thought men were kind of sexy when they sweated.”

  He regarded her incredulously. “Seriously?”

  “Must be all the pheromones they exude.”

  He laughed. “Well, to hear my mom tell it, it was a cardinal sin, especially if I expected to be in the company of ladies.”

  “So, what does that make me?”

  “A lady, no question about it,” he said quickly. “But I spotted you running as I was coming home and didn’t want you to get away. I figured this was an exception.”

  “So, how was the game?” she asked.

  “The game was great. My team won.”

  “The only critical point of the evening, I gather,” she said, chuckling.

  “Well, of course. It’s a guy thing. Winning matters, though if you tell any of my players that, I’ll swear I was misquoted. How’d you spend your evening?”

  “With the O’Brien women. They weren’t nearly as competitive, unless you count the degree of their meddling.”

  He slanted a surprising look of commiseration in her direction. “Must be genetic.”

  She gave him a sharp look. “You, too?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “To take a hike.”

  Liz regarded him hopefully. “Did that work?”

  “Are you kidding me? Not a chance,” he said ruefully. “What about you?”

  “Ditto,” she said.

  “Any thoughts about what happens next?”

  She smiled at the hopeful note in his voice. “Just remember that we’re in control of our own destinies. They’re not.”

  Aidan nodded, then stared toward the bay, his expression thoughtful. When he finally turned back to her, he asked quietly, “Are you so sure about that?”

  Something in his tone suggested he was more resigned than convinced.

  “We have to be,” she said flatly.

  “Okay, then. Come on. I’ll walk you home.”

  Liz stood up. “You don’t have to do that,” she protested. “It’s a few blocks.”

  “Another of those lessons from my mom,” he said simply. “This one took.”

  She smiled. “In that case, who am I to argue?”

  And at least with Aidan by her side and his words still ringing in her ears about them possibly not being in charge of anything, there wasn’t a chance in the world she’d be thinking about Josh.

  9

  The chance encounter with Liz was still very much on Aidan’s mind Friday afternoon, though he was trying to keep his attention focused on the team as it ran through drills in preparation for a final scrimmage before school let out next week for the summer.

  Between his wandering thoughts and the actions on the field, he didn’t notice Mick O’Brien until the practice session ended. As soon as Aidan dismissed the boys, Mick headed in his direction.

  “I’m no expert, but seems to me there’s a big improvement already,” Mick said.

  “They’re still learning,” Aidan told him, then grinned. “But I think they’re catching on, too. What brings you by?”

  “Henry’s been bugging me to check out the Santos kid,” Mick said. “Are you as high on him as my grandson is?”

  “Funny you should mention Hector,” Aidan told him, grateful to finally have an opportunity to get Mick’s take on the community’s likely reaction to any quarterback change he might make. “I’ve been wanting to discuss the quarterback situation with you. I could use some advice.”

  Mick laughed. “Porter’s been trying to intimidate you—am I right?”

  “You’re right,” Aidan said, not all that surprised by Mick’s perceptiveness. “I’m just wondering how much of his attitude is being protective of his son, something I can totally understand, and how much might be a prejudice that’s going to be shared by the whole community.”

  “Porter believes his boy is talented,” Mick responded slowly. “And I can see some potential there.”

  “Taylor understands the fundamentals,” Aidan agreed, trying to be fair. “But Hector? He’s something special.”

  “My grandson certainly thinks so,” Mick conceded. “Not that Henry’s the expert you are. He’s just recently decided he wants to be a sports agent and Hector’s his first big find.”

  Aidan chuckled. “If he could find a few more with that much talent, I’d be very appreciative.”

  Mick studied him. “Hector really is that promising?”

  Aidan nodded.

  “Then I don’t see that you have much choice,” Mick said. “You were brought in to make this team the best it can possibly be. You don’t put a boy on the field if you don’t think he can do the job. At least you don’t when there’s someone you kno
w can do it better.”

  “I’d just hate to stir up some sort of community backlash that will only wind up hurting Hector.”

  Mick’s expression turned thoughtful. “I think that can be avoided,” he said carefully. “What do you have in mind for Taylor?”

  “Truthfully, he’s got decent hands and the speed to be a receiver, if he’s willing to make the transition.”

  “Does he get along okay with Hector?”

  Aidan nodded. “I don’t think Taylor will be the problem. I’ve had them practicing together and it’s gone surprisingly well considering they’re rivals for the same position.”

  “Then you leave Porter to me,” Mick said. “I think what he wants most is for his boy to have playing time and to be a star. If Taylor can do that in another position, I think I can convince Porter that there’s not a downside. It takes twenty-two men on offense and defense to make a team. Hardly matters where they excel, as long as it’s a winning combination.”

  Aidan regarded him with appreciation. “Agreed.”

  Henry came running back onto the field just then with Hector alongside. “Grandpa Mick!” he shouted. “Did you see practice?”

  “I saw,” Mick said, giving him an affectionate pat on the back, then holding out his hand to Hector. “I’ve been hearing very good things about you, son.”

  “Henry’s my friend,” Hector said shyly. “He is, how do you say, biased.”

  Mick smiled. “And your coach? Is he biased, too?”

  Eyes wide, Hector looked up at Aidan. “You told him about me?”

  “I did,” Aidan confirmed. “And whatever Henry said is true, Hector. You’re very, very talented.”

  “Muchas gracias,” Hector said. “I do my best.”

  “You certainly do that,” Aidan agreed.

  “Now, how about a couple of burgers and some fries at Sally’s?” Mick asked the boys. He glanced at Aidan. “Any objections?”

  “Not from me,” Aidan said. “I’d join you, if I could.”

  “Why don’t you?” Mick said, his expression sly. “Might give you a chance to stop in and visit a friend.”

  Given what Aidan knew about Mick’s sneaky intentions, he was quick to decline. Besides, just last night he’d determined to give Liz the space she claimed to want. He could hardly argue against it being the smart thing to do for both of them. The less fodder these matchmakers had to work with, the better off they’d both be. And with his own uncertainty about how long he’d stick around Chesapeake Shores, why start something he might not be around to finish?

  Of course, that said, it was a whole lot easier to say no to Mick now, when he already planned to see Liz first thing tomorrow morning for the promised visit with Cordelia.

  *

  Liz was still asleep and having a lovely dream on Saturday morning when she was awakened by someone pounding on her door and the earsplitting sound of Archie’s ecstatic barking. That could only mean one thing: Aidan, the very man at the center of her dream.

  Muttering under her breath, she dragged on a robe over the shorts and tank she wore for sleeping, then went to the door. Aidan regarded her with a stunned expression.

  “I woke you?” he asked as Archie danced around him.

  “What was your first clue?” she asked, well aware of how grouchy she was before her morning coffee, especially when awakened from a sound sleep.

  Aidan unsuccessfully tried to hide a smile. “I thought we had a date this morning.”

  “A date? I thought we’d concluded that dating was a nonissue. You have your reasons. I have mine. Yada yada.”

  “Okay, bad choice of words. I thought we were taking Archie to see his former owner. You told me to be here by seven.”

  Liz groaned. She’d completely forgotten about the command visit she’d insisted he pay to Cordelia.

  “Give me ten minutes,” she said at once.

  “Take twenty. I’ll make coffee.”

  “If I had decent coffee in the house, do you think I’d drink so much at Sally’s?”

  “Okay, then. I’ll make a run to Sally’s. You still get twenty minutes. How about some eggs to go with the coffee? Toast? Anything? Frankly, I’m starving, so I wouldn’t say no to breakfast before we go.”

  Liz studied his cheerful expression, then sighed. “We’re back to giving me ten minutes. Then we’ll both go to Sally’s.”

  He grinned. “That works for me. What about Archie?”

  At last she found a reason to smile. “He can go upstairs and investigate his new home while we eat. He’s much better these days about chewing up the furniture.”

  Aidan stared at her. “Am I supposed to take comfort from that?”

  She beamed at him. “You probably should. He still has a few other habits you’ll probably want to break him of. I hope you have plenty of room on the top shelf in your closets for your shoes.”

  Aidan’s heartfelt sigh followed her into the bathroom.

  A few minutes later, they had Archie and his crate in Aidan’s car and were parking behind the shops on Main Street. Upstairs, which truly was a lot smaller than Liz had imagined, the dog went dutifully into his crate, though he gave Aidan a look of betrayal as he did it.

  “We’ll be right back,” Liz promised. “You be a good dog. No barking.”

  Woof! Archie barked, but without much energy behind it.

  Downstairs at Sally’s Liz cursed her lack of foresight when they walked in to find the usual assortment of O’Brien women already assembled.

  “There you are,” Bree called out. “We saved you a seat.” She grinned at Aidan. “We had no idea you were coming, but we can fit you in, too.”

  Liz noted that Aidan looked as if he’d rather eat dirt, but he dutifully took the space Bree had indicated next to Heather in the booth, while Liz took the chair that had been pulled up to the end of the table. Aidan immediately grabbed a menu and hid behind it, which gave all of the women the chance to give Liz a less than subtle thumbs-up.

  This morning just got better and better, Liz thought with a sigh. She was never going to hear the end of it. Her endless denials were already falling on deaf ears. She was starting to not give much credence to them herself. She was just about as smitten as they all thought she was.

  *

  When they’d played basketball, Connor O’Brien had told Aidan to feel free to borrow his boat anytime he felt like going out on the bay to do a little fishing.

  So, after that uncomfortable breakfast accompanied by less than subtle grilling and a visit to Cordelia, who seemed thrilled about the new arrangement for her beloved Archie, Aidan made a quick call to Connor to make sure he didn’t have plans to use the boat. Some alone time on the water, where no meddlers could find him, held a lot of appeal.

  At Mick’s, Aidan walked out onto the sun-drenched dock and launched the sturdy little rowboat. It had a small engine, but since he’d decided on doing this for the exercise, he stuck to using the oars. He was glad there was no one around to witness his awkward attempt to maneuver even such a tiny craft on the calm water.

  He rowed steadily for a half hour or so until the muscles in his shoulders cried out, then rowed back to the dock, aware that it had been a pitiful testament to his inexperience on the water.

  As he was tying up the boat, he glanced up and spotted Thomas O’Brien sitting on a bench at the end of the dock, his son Sean nearby with a fishing pole in his hands and his feet dangling in the water. Aidan fumbled with the rope he was using to tie the boat to the dock. Thomas caught it before it fell into the bay and tied it securely.

  “How’s the fishing?” he asked Aidan.

  “I couldn’t say. I was just testing to make sure I could get out on the water and back. Did you come over to take the boat out?” Aidan asked. “Connor said he wasn’t planning to use it this morning.”

  “Sean’s perfectly content right here,” Thomas said. “So am I. Nothing I like better than being around the bay on a day like this. It’s a reminder of why I spend
all those hours locked up in my office in Annapolis or making the rounds to visit all the power brokers trying to prod them into making tougher laws.”

  As Aidan stood there awkwardly, trying to figure out something to say, he realized Thomas was studying him intently.

  Maybe there was nothing more to the look than simple curiosity, but it made Aidan nervous. What if Thomas saw something familiar in his face? None of the other O’Briens seemed to have noted any family resemblance, but Aidan wasn’t 100 percent sure there wasn’t one.

  “Since I ran into you, would this be a good time for you to tell me a little more about your foundation?” he asked, mostly to divert Thomas’s attention. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to reassure Thomas of his interest while he was at it.

  To be honest, since coming to town and hearing so many extol Thomas’s virtues, he’d become increasingly curious about the mission that had kept the man from wanting to be a dad twenty-eight years ago. He seemed to have settled into the role quite comfortably now with Sean, who looked to be about seven.

  “We do what we can to protect this amazing estuary,” Thomas explained readily. “It’s a never-ending task. Seems as if there’s always someone who wants to loosen the laws to allow more farm or industrial runoff. If we’re not strict about the limits on fishing, crabbing and so on, the supplies will dwindle dangerously. If we’re not vigilant about all of it, we’ll lose the battle and this estuary will be destroyed. That would be a crying shame.”

  Aidan could hear the passion in his voice and followed his gaze toward the sparkling waters. An eagle chose just that moment to soar into the air. “It would be,” he found himself saying as he watched the magnificent bird’s flight. “How did you get interested?”

  “I spent my life on these waters. I caught my first rockfish right off this pier, or the old rotting one that preceded it, I should say. I caught crabs, even hauled in a few oysters from time to time. Then I started reading about the decreasing supplies for the watermen to harvest every year. I hung out with some of them and listened to their stories. I could see for myself that the ecosystem was changing and not for the better. I couldn’t sit by and watch that happen, not just for my generation, but for the generations to come.”