by Lee McKenzie
“Unless you think it’s too far for the dog,” he added.
“He seems fine for now. And he’s so small, I can always carry him if I have to.”
“Good plan.”
The walk from the resort to the end of the seawall at Outlook Point took them past a handful of luxury beachfront properties, and Sarah knew one of them belonged to Eleanor Bentley and her husband. Directly across the bay was the marina, angled between Shelter Point and the protective arm of the breakwater that kept the bay relatively calm during storm season. Boats of various sizes, mostly pleasure craft, were moored here, and tonight there were also two commercial fishing boats and a floatplane. She’d been locking up the store that afternoon and had heard the low drone of the plane as it swung low over the bay and landed. The passengers were most likely business executives up from Vancouver or Seattle for meetings or a weekend retreat at the resort.
She and Jonathan kept up what now felt like a comfortable conversation, and in what seemed no time at all, they’d reached the point. The walkway widened into a small parking lot, now empty for the evening. For several minutes they leaned against the stone wall that formed a half circle between the lot and the rocks below. Petey, panting slightly, sat on the ground next to her feet. The breeze was stronger, whipping the water in the strait into a light chop. In the distance, an Alaska-bound cruise ship, one of the last of the season, glided by, its lights and white hull gleaming against the sunset.
Sarah shivered. “It’s starting to cool off. I should have brought a jacket.”
“I didn’t think to bring one, either, or you could have worn that.”
“Next time I’ll remind you,” she said before she could stop herself. Would he think she was flirting with him? You are flirting with him.
He looped an arm around her shoulders. “Next time you won’t need to.”
His warm breath brushed over her hair and she shivered again for an entirely different reason. This was beyond flirting. Part of her, the part that been alone for a very long time, considered exploring how far this could go. Her sensible side knew it needed to go no further.
He straightened and dropped his arm. “We should go back,” he said, hinting that he knew what she was thinking.
“We should.” The shivers were back, partly from the evening air blowing across her recently warmed shoulders, and partly due to freshly awakened sensations now tumbling around her insides.
They walked back along the seawall at a brisker pace, mostly in silence that was companionable but now emotionally charged as well. Halfway up the hill, a panting Petey stopped and sat down and no amount of coaxing could get him going again. Sarah knelt to pick him up and he eagerly jumped into her arms, trying to lick her face.
“Stop,” she said, but she couldn’t help laughing. “Silly dog. Hold still, we’re almost home.”
“Would you like me to carry him?” Jonathan asked.
“I’m okay. He hardly weighs anything, and he helps to keep me warm.”
Moments later they’d reached the end of their driveway. They’d been gone longer than she’d expected and the sky was nearly dark. Sarah set the dog down and turned to face Jonathan. “Thanks for joining us. I wouldn’t have gone so far on my own.”
“Any time,” he said. “I enjoyed it.”
“Me, too.”
Their gazes locked for a heartbeat. Two...three...four. The only way to break the tension was to kiss him, or get him to kiss her. He leaned in and so did she; their lips met, lingered, and the lightness felt surprisingly intimate for a first kiss. She wasn’t sure who had initiated it and couldn’t say who ended it. Maybe neither, maybe both, but they were suddenly apart, staring at each other again, and Jonathan was smiling.
“I guess that’s good-night.”
“I guess it is.” She was now acutely aware that they were still on the street in plain view of anyone who might be watching, and now that the streetlights were on, anyone could be. “I should go in. We should. Into our own houses, I mean. Before the girls come home.”
“Right.” He checked his watch.
Sarah fished her house key out of her jeans pocket. “Come on, Petey. Let’s get you inside.”
“After that walk, he should sleep well tonight.”
That would make one of them, Sarah thought. “Good night.”
“Good night, Sarah.”
Inside, she leaned against the door and closed her eyes, still shivering from the combination of the cool night air and Jonathan’s bone-melting kiss. She wouldn’t sleep a wink that night, but that was okay. She would still be up early enough to see him leave for his morning run, and this time she wouldn’t feel guilty for watching him.
* * *
ACROSS THE STREET, from her friend Henry’s living room window, Casey stood with Kate, both girls watching their parents. The girls laughed and shared a high five.
“Your mom is so going to let you keep that dog,” Kate said.
“And your dad is so not going to be on your case about every little thing.”
It was weird to think of her mom going on dates with Kate’s dad, Casey realized, but she would get used to it. Petey was worth it. After their parents went inside, they sat back on the couch with the boys, who were finishing a video game. Dex grinned at her, and she smiled back. She could definitely get used to this.
CHAPTER NINE
JON SPRAWLED IN his favorite chair in the living room, feet up on an ottoman, laptop on his lap, catching up on sports news in the Vancouver Sun’s online Sunday edition. The house was quiet, even quieter than usual since Kate had announced she was going out with Casey and Henry. That she already referred to them as friends was a huge relief for him. He had reminded her that her homework had to be finished before she went out, and she’d assured him it was. She liked her art class, of course, but after the first week of school she was already behind on writing up a lab report for her science class, and she had received a D on her first English assignment. So yes, he was pleased to see her adapting to a new school, but schoolwork had to come first.
This afternoon they had taken Casey’s dog for a walk downtown and planned to hang out at a local coffee shop that had dog-friendly tables on the sidewalk. The weather was decent enough for it, overcast but no rain in the forecast.
A week had passed since he and Sarah walked Petey along the seawall. He had hoped a similar opportunity would present itself. No luck. All they’d had were two end-of-day encounters in the driveway, once while Kate was with him and the other when Casey was with her mother, plus some brief interaction on Thursday afternoon when Sarah picked up her daughter after soccer practice. If he wanted to spend time with her—and of course he did—he would have to create an opportunity. Problem was, he couldn’t decide what he should do. Suggest they take the dog for a walk? Invite her out for coffee? Suggest they drive down to Sechelt for dinner?
She was a self-confessed list maker who had no interest in sports and hated to cook. He would like to be organized but wasn’t, and at one point years ago had fleetingly considered dropping out of kinesiology to enroll in a culinary school. He’d thought about their conversation since that night, and about her, but mostly he’d thought a lot about the kiss. The lead-up to it was a blur—who had initiated it?—and he’d lain awake running the instant replay in his head. All he remembered was her. Her firm mouth, her sweet taste, her real-woman scent rather than some lavishly expensive, artificially scented fragrance that made his head ache. Her glamorous appearance—and let’s face it, even in jeans and a casual sweater the woman was a knockout—seemed natural, effortless. Unlike...
But there was no point in going there. Georgette was part of his past, a past that he was finally ready to put behind him because the future was suddenly filled with promise. Sarah shared many of the same qualities—intelligence, self-confidence, drop-dead gorgeo
usness—but she didn’t need or want to be the center of attention. And she was a great mom. It was too soon to speculate where this might go, or if it would go anywhere, but he hoped it would.
His phone rang then, and as he followed the sound to the kitchen where he’d left it, he had a hunch it was Georgette. This was the time she usually called Kate on weekends and if she couldn’t reach their daughter, she called him by default. He grabbed his phone off the counter and the display confirmed his suspicion.
For a split second he considered not answering. It would be the smart thing to do since he really didn’t want to talk to her. But she would keep calling until he answered. So he manned up and took the call.
“Hello, Georgette.”
“Is Kate there?” she asked.
“It’s nice to talk to you, too.”
“Very clever. We both know we’re past the point of having to chitchat about the weather.”
Her words could still cut like a knife, swift and sharp and deep enough to drain the life out of him.
“Kate is out with her friends. She has her phone with her, though.”
“I already tried that. She didn’t pick up.”
Kate checked obsessively for missed calls and messages. She looked forward to her conversations with her mother, but it didn’t surprise him that she wouldn’t take a call from her while she was out with her friends.
“I’ll ask her to call you when she gets in.”
“When will that be?”
“She’ll be home in an hour or so.”
“It’s already after eleven over here, and Xavier and I are on our way back to our hotel. We’re in London.”
He didn’t care where she was, or why, but she always found a way to work it into a conversation.
“We’re here for fall Fashion Week here, and then we’re off to Milan.”
“That sounds...nice. Speaking of fashion, I hope Kate thanked you for the purse you sent her.”
There was an uncharacteristic pause. “I didn’t send her a purse.”
“Oh. She said...huh...never mind. I guess I misunderstood.”
Mom sent it. It came in the mail yesterday. Couldn’t be less ambiguous, and now it turned out to be a bold-faced lie.
“Apparently you did. Listen, I have to go. Our driver just pulled up with our car and Xavier’s waiting.”
“I’ll tell Kate you called. If she can’t get through to you later today, I assume you’ll call before she leaves for school in the morning?”
“Of course I will. I always do.”
“Okay, I’ll let her—”
But Georgette had already disconnected.
He stared at his phone. “Nice talking to you. I’ll be sure to tell her you called.” Right after he found out how she’d acquired the purse and why she lied about it.
He understood why a woman wanted to look and feel attractive, and he had a healthy appreciation for beautiful women. He had resented Georgette’s obsession with fashion, though. Not because of the clothes themselves, but because of the implication that if an item wasn’t expensive, if it wasn’t sporting a designer label, then it had no value. He would never understand the concept, and he resented the influence it’d had on their daughter.
But right now he had a more immediate problem. If Kate’s mother hadn’t given her the handbag, then where did she get it? There was a chance she had used the credit card Georgette had given her to order something online. He fished the card out of his wallet and dialed the number on the back to check the activity on the account. No recent purchases.
He had recognized the logo on the bag; it was one of Kate’s favorite designers, and those bags weren’t cheap. There was no way she could afford one on her monthly allowance. He put the card away, strode into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water from a bottle in the fridge. Maybe she bought the bag before they left the city, when she’d shopped for back-to-school clothes. But then why lie and say it was a gift from her mother?
He slammed the fridge door harder than he should have and immediately felt guilty. He needed to get a grip. But what if she’d...? No, no way. She could give him some attitude, but she was a good kid. She would never take something that didn’t belong to her. Would she?
What were the options? She didn’t have the bag when they lived in Vancouver. The thing was huge, and it was distinctive enough that he would have remembered seeing it. She hadn’t bought it online. So where in Serenity Bay would she—
Sarah’s store?
No. Kate wouldn’t have shoplifted a purse from their new neighbor’s business. Heaven help her if she did. Maybe he should go next door, find out if Kate had been to the store, if Sarah had noticed anything missing.
Bad idea. He needed to wait till Kate came home, give her a chance to explain. He owed her that much.
He went out on the deck and leaned his forearms on the railing. He’d been congratulating himself for making this move, finding this great house, figuring a small town was a good place to raise a teenager. Was this a mistake? Was Kate so unhappy that she would act out like this?
“You don’t know that she took the purse.” He needed facts before he passed judgment. Surely Kate would have an explanation for the bag and why she lied about it.
“She better have,” he said to himself. “And it better be a good one.”
* * *
SARAH LOVED SUNDAY AFTERNOONS. This was her “me” time. Casey, usually occupied with one of her many projects and interests, had taken the dog and gone out with friends, leaving Sarah with the whole house and several hours to herself. She consulted her afternoon to-do list, smiling because it reminded her of her last conversation with Jonathan. Among other things.
She had already given herself a manicure, and because she was in such good spirits, she’d chosen a pale shade of pink instead of the clear polish she usually wore. The blush color satisfied her desire for something a touch more feminine and at the same time wouldn’t clash with this week’s wardrobe choices. The six days of outfits that now hung in an orderly row in her walk-in closet.
She sat at her desk and crossed off “clean the bathrooms”—which qualified as me-time because there were few things she liked better than a clean bathroom—and surveyed what was left. Figure out what to have for dinner. Check out the To the Nines’s Facebook page.
Dinner was hours away and she already knew there were frozen dinners in the freezer. Or she could run to the market and pick up something, or they could grab takeout at Wharfside Fish ’n’ Chips.
That left Facebook. She turned on her laptop and opened the browser, found the link Kate had saved for her, and logged in. The girl had done an amazing job in such a short time. The banner at the top of the page was a photograph Kate had taken of the storefront after she’d set up the windows a couple of weeks ago. They needed to be done again this Tuesday and she had promised the girl she could help after school. Kate had agreed to photograph each new window display and use it to refresh the banner.
Sarah should learn how to do these things herself, and she would, someday, but for now she was thrilled to have help. Kate had an eye for design and a head for business, no doubt about it. Sarah had lost count of the number of customers who had raved about the windows. Kate had also suggested they reward customers with a gift after the page had 250 “likes” and they were now at...
Wow. Two hundred and twenty-seven.
She clicked on a button to see who all these people were. Kids from the high school, their mothers, other businesswomen. But Eleanor Bentley—who would have guessed she was using social media?—and a woman from Boise, Idaho, were completely unexpected. Kate had set the page to like other local businesses and many had already reciprocated. Earlier in the week, she photographed individual items and somehow programmed the page to post one photo every day along with a descriptio
n.
Sarah understood almost nothing about social media, but she knew effective advertising when she saw it. The photographs were great, and every item, including the one Kate had posted yesterday morning, had sold. This was one business-savvy fourteen-year-old.
She might even have mentioned this to Jonathan while they’d walked the dog last week, except she’d had other things on her mind. Instead of talking about kids, about being parents, they had spent the time getting to know each other. She already liked what was on the outside, and now she was drawn to the man on the inside, too. He was funny, easy to talk to, and he made her feel...
He made her feel. She put her hands to her face to cool her cheeks with her palms.
The front door banged shut and was followed by Casey’s customary, “Mo-om, we’re home.”
“Be right down, sweetie.” She shut down the computer and checked her list. The only thing left on it was tonight’s dinner. Frozen entrees had no appeal. They would go for fish and chips instead. If the rain held off, they could walk down and eat at one of the nearby picnic tables. With fall almost here, there wouldn’t be many more opportunities to eat outside. They could even invite Jonathan and Kate to join them. She was sure he wanted to spend time together as much as she did, and she was beginning to realize that it was up to her to make it happen.
But first she wanted to hear all about Casey’s afternoon. Now that she was spending more time with friends, some of whom were boys, Sarah intended to keep the lines of communication wide open. After they talked, she would run next door and invite Jonathan and Kate to join them for dinner.
* * *
JON WAS WAITING inside the front door when Kate returned, the new bag casually slung over her shoulder.
“Hi, Dad.” She eyed him suspiciously. “What’s up?”
“I’m not sure. I was hoping you’d tell me.”
“Oh-kay.”
“Did you talk to your mother?”