“Hey.” She kept one hand on the steering wheel and both eyes on the road as she navigated toward the beach and not the town. “I’m wondering if you’ve had time to think about it.”
“I have.”
Lauren waited. “And?” she said when he remained quiet.
“I’ve talked to my son,” he said. “And my sister, and we’ll be there this weekend.”
Relief rushed through her. “That’s great.”
“Eliza will take Porter while we do…whatever it is your great aunt needs you to do. But I’ve spoken with him about you. He asked if you’d show him how to build the deck.” Trent chuckled, but it sounded strained along the edges.
Lauren pushed a laugh out too. “Okay, great. I’m sure I can show him how to build a deck. It’s not all that hard.”
“Mm, okay.” Trent sounded like he didn’t believe her.
Lauren pulled into the empty parking lot overlooking the beach. She rolled the window down to get the scent of spray and salt. “So are we going to talk about what I said?”
“The part about you not liking kids?”
“Yeah, that part.”
“Maybe you just haven’t met the right ones.”
Lauren sighed. “Maybe.”
“Porter’s awesome, and he’s excited to meet you. Besides, I’m not ready to stop seeing you.”
An instant smile sprang to Lauren’s lips. “Is that right?”
“About right, yeah.”
“Okay, so do I need to meet Porter early on Saturday?” Her nerves felt like someone had just tased them. “Or should I come over and meet him before? Or—”
She stopped talking when Trent started laughing. “Relax, Lauren. He’s a six-year-old, not a trained assassin.” Something banged on his end of the line. “I have to go check that. How about you bring over a pepperoni pizza tomorrow night? You’ll be his favorite person then.”
Crying came through the line, drowning out Lauren’s “Okay,” and Trent practically yelled, “Okay, see you tomorrow,” before hanging up.
Lauren sat in her truck, listening to the waves but unable to see them. She had the distinct feeling she’d just gotten in way over her head with Trent and his son. But she had a date for Saturday night—and tomorrow—and she’d just keep swimming until her head broke the surface.
“Just like always,” she told herself as she put her truck back on the road and headed home.
* * *
Lauren almost dropped the pizza when she wiped her free palm down the front of her pants—again.
The front door opened before she’d even touched one of the steps, and Trent filled the doorframe. The sight of him wearing jeans and a T-shirt with the word COP on it made her suck in a breath and hold it while she climbed up to the porch.
He took the pizza boxes from her with a smile. “You look nice.”
She glanced down at herself to remember what she wore. And it wasn’t nice. Her black work pants that had a lot of dust and paint specks on them, and a T-shirt that should’ve been washed last week.
“I didn’t have time to change,” she said. “The artist my aunt hired to do a few pieces showed up today, and she needed help with some installation. That put me way back on a few things, and yeah.”
She stepped into his house, expecting it to be as immaculate as his lawn. But it so wasn’t. Shoes lay by the front door, toys littered the floor, and there was some sort of…fluff everywhere.
“The dogs got new toys today,” Trent said, stepping over everything. “They shred them to bits.”
She followed him into the kitchen to find all four canines lined up, one of whom had a stuffed squirrel firmly clenched in his jaws.
“They’re so cute.”
“They are not.” Trent put the pizza on the counter and stepped over to a hall that led further into the house. “Porter! Pizza’s here.”
Trent met her eye. “Nervous?”
“Absolutely.”
“Me too.” He licked his lips. “I’ve never introduced my son to a woman.”
Before Lauren could respond, a dark-haired boy came barreling out of the hallway, a dinosaur clutched in his fist. “Did you get pepperoni?”
He didn’t even seem to see her standing there, and Trent said, “Porter, remember how I said my friend was bringing the pizza?”
Lauren cringed internally. Friend? Was that what she was? She had no idea what six-year-olds could or could not understand, and she supposed that she wasn’t Trent’s girlfriend.
Yet.
Where that word had come from, she wasn’t sure. But it was there inside her mind, and it wasn’t going away. Even when the little boy turned his cute face toward her and said, “Oh, that’s right. Did you get pepperoni pizza?”
“With extra cheese,” Lauren said with a smile. “And your dad said you wanted to learn how to build a deck.”
Porter’s whole fact lit up, and he looked back and forth between Lauren and Trent. “Yeah, I do. Are we gonna do that tonight, too?”
Lauren laughed. “It takes a lot longer than one night to build a deck.” She took the plate Trent handed to her. Impressed that he didn’t use paper, she smiled at him. “But I brought a couple of things in my truck. We can go check them out after we eat.”
Trent gave her a curious look, but she wasn’t telling him what she’d brought.
She had worried more than she should’ve, because once they all had pizza slices on their plates, they sat at the bar and talked. Trent asked Porter about school, and Porter talked about his friends. Lauren mostly listened, and while it wasn’t anything like any of the dates she’d ever gone on, she felt like she belonged. She learned little about Trent, other than he made his son finish what he took and clean up his own plate. He wouldn’t give the dogs any pizza, even when they all laid down in synchronized fashion.
“They’re working,” Trent said when Lauren asked him how he could withhold a reward.
“They’re always working,” Porter said.
“Do you do that?” Lauren asked. “Work all the time for no reward?”
Trent looked at her coolly. “Yes.”
Lauren laughed, glad when a smile cracked Trent’s stoic face too. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go see what I brought before it gets too dark.”
Porter ran ahead of them, and Trent let his fingers brush hers as they walked from the dining room, through the living room, and to the front door.
Her heart skipped, especially when he grabbed her hand and squeezed once before exiting the house.
Porter was already waiting down by her tailgate, jumping around like someone had poured ants down his pants.
“Back up, bud,” Trent said when they arrived.
Lauren lowered the tailgate, realizing how messy the back of her truck was. She ignored it, just like Trent obviously ignored the buckets of fluff on his floors. “Okay, so this is called a window frame.”
She pulled a box from under a tarp. “It’s got four pieces of wood, and your job is to make the corners line up, everything nice and straight. See, that’s what we do to build decks. All the boards have to line up straight. All the edges. Everything is flat and uniform.”
Even as she spoke, Lauren felt the passion she had for taking gnarled wood and making it beautiful, or gutting a room and redoing it into something functional, infuse her voice.
She set the box on the ground, but it still came up to her knees. “This one’s for kids. So it’s got a child-sized hammer.” She ripped open the top of the box and pulled out the tools. “And enough nails to try a few times.” She handed the plastic bag with the hammer and nails to Porter, whose eyes were as big as the moon.
“This is for me?”
“Well, your dad can’t use a child-size hammer.” Lauren laughed and continued digging in the box until she found the instruction manual. “Once you get it all straight and lined up, you can paint it. Or stain it. Mine’s on my front door, like a wreath.”
Porter just blinked at her until she hande
d him the packet. He looked at the picture on the front. “And I get to build it.”
“That’s right,” she said. “Your dad can help. Or I can.” Where that last sentence had come from, Lauren had no idea, but she knew she’d done good by skipping her opportunity to change her clothes and instead, stopping by the hardware store for this kit.
Because Porter launched himself at her and wrapped his bony little arms around her waist, hugging her tight.
Lauren had no idea what to do, so she stared at Trent and patted his son’s back.
Trent gaped back at her, a look of complete shock on his face.
Chapter Nine
Trent had no idea what was going on. Porter didn’t hug anyone except for him. Trent had never paid much attention to it until that moment, with his son gripping Lauren like she’d saved his life.
“Evening, Trent.”
He turned from the scene at the back of Lauren’s truck to find Betsy Brown standing there.
“Oh, hey, Betsy.” He spied a bag of French bread in her hand. “What is that?”
She laughed and shook her head. “As if you don’t know.” She passed the bread over to him, and it was still hot. “Chicken cheese bread. Right from the oven.”
“Thank you so much.” Trent didn’t have the heart to tell her they’d already eaten. He hoped Porter would keep his mouth shut too. Betsy lived right next door, and she brought dinner over a couple of nights a week, with no rhyme or reason to the schedule.
“Betsy, this is our friend, Lauren.”
She seemed relieved to be able to step away from Porter, and though the sun was rapidly setting, Trent caught a hint of redness in her face.
“Nice to meet you, Betsy.” She shook the older woman’s hand while Trent nudged Porter forward.
“Ma’am,” the boy said, going right back to the window frame set.
“Betsy taught me everything I know about gardening,” Trent said.
“Oh, I did not.”
“She did,” he insisted. “You should’ve seen this yard when I first moved in.”
“His thumb’s as green as they come. Why, just a month ago he saved one of my trees.”
Lauren looked back and forth between them, and Trent finally acquiesced. “Fine. But when I have a question, I go straight to Besty.” He gave her a smile, and she accepted it.
“How’s Philo?” he asked, which caused Betsy’s face to fall. Trent really wanted to take half a step forward and claim Lauren’s hand in his, but he didn’t.
“It’s a bad day,” she said. “Hopefully tomorrow will be better.”
“Hopefully,” Trent said. “Thank you for the chicken cheese bread.”
Betsy waved and started back toward her house. Trent took that half-step forward and leaned his mouth toward Lauren’s ear. “Her husband had a stroke about a year ago.”
Lauren shivered though it wasn’t quite cold enough for that. “That’s too bad.” She turned toward the house. “Should we go in? It’s getting chilly out here.”
“Dad, can you carry the box?”
Trent startled toward Porter, wondering how much his son had just seen. Embarrassment crept through Trent, but he picked up the box and started toward the front door with everyone else.
“I’m intrigued,” Lauren said. “What is chicken cheese bread?”
“It’s the best food on the planet,” Porter said. “Well, besides pepperoni pizza.” He happily went in the house, and Trent heard a distinct knock.
“Porter,” he called. “Don’t bang that hammer on the walls.” If he had to fix holes in his plaster….
“Thanks for that,” he muttered to Lauren as they went up the steps together. “If he breaks something, you’re coming to fix it for free.”
He was joking, and Lauren’s laughter filled the porch, the entryway, the very sky.
Trent laughed with her, pulled her against his side before they went in the house, and pressed his lips to her temple. There one moment, gone the next.
She sobered quickly, but once Trent unwrapped the chicken cheese bread, she brought back the sparkly personality and the quick wit.
Trent really liked spending time with her, and she’d played her cards perfectly right for someone who said they didn’t like kids.
From what he could tell, she liked them just fine. And Porter obviously liked her. After the date ended and Lauren left, Trent took his dogs outside before bed. He stood beneath the stars and thought about his late wife.
“I still love you,” he said to the brightest star, imagining it to be Savannah. “But I sure do like Lauren Michaels.”
And he could find room in his heart to love again…couldn’t he?
* * *
Trent pulled on the sleeves of his jacket, the little American flag cufflinks perfectly in place. He’d gone next door for a haircut earlier that morning, and as he settled his hat on his head, he thought he looked good enough to be on Lauren’s arm. He hoped.
Because he knew she wouldn’t be wearing jeans and a tank top tonight. His mouth felt like he’d stuffed cotton in it. He was about to take a huge leap outside his comfort zone, and he hoped he didn’t regret it.
“You almost ready?” he said to Porter as the boy came into Trent’s bedroom. Water dripped from the ends of his hair, and Trent turned from the mirror. “A little too much water there, bud.” He chuckled as he helped his son clean up and comb his hair.
He wore a navy blue suit Trent’s mother had bought him for church. Porter had only worn it once or twice, so it still looked really new.
“Remember, I’m going to be a bit busy with Lauren sometimes. Aunt Eliza said you could sit by them.”
“I know,” Porter said, tucking his hand into Trent’s. He’d been nailing and un-nailing the window frame every day after school since Lauren had brought it over, and Trent was glad his son had found something that interested him.
“Be polite,” he said as they gave each dog a dental treat. “Say thank you. Don’t wipe your hands on your clothes.”
Porter didn’t even appear to be listening, so Trent stopped talking. He was just nervous anyway. Porter acted just fine in public, and there’d be so many people there tonight, it wouldn’t matter if he didn’t.
So many people. The thought made Trent’s fingers clench as he drove toward the Mansion. Lauren said she’d meet them there, and Trent sure hoped so, because he didn’t even have tickets.
The parking situation was terrible, and Trent ended up parking down the hill because one of his fellow officers told him he had to. “The Mansion lots are full,” Lou said. “Park here. Shuttle will take you up.” He grinned at Trent and said, “You’re lucky you’re not working this thing.”
But Trent didn’t feel lucky. Everyone would be looking at him. Everyone would see him and Lauren. Everyone would know about the soft feelings he held for her in his heart, though they’d just barely started spending time together.
He climbed onto the shuttle the town used for Beach Day and kept hold of his son as the bus rumbled up the cliffs to the Mansion.
The same glow that had caught his attention a few weeks ago emanated from the Mansion. People were pouring into the building, their faces cast in soft shadows from the yellow light.
Before the shuttle came to a stop, he pulled out his phone and texted Lauren that they’d arrived.
Changing at my aunt’s. You can wait out front or come around the back. She lives down in the cottage at the bottom of the hill.
“Want to wait or walk?” he asked Porter as they disembarked.
“Walk where?” Porter looked up at him, confusion clear in his expression.
“Lauren has our tickets, and she’s down at her aunt’s house.” Trent moved out of the way, already feeling the heaviness of eyes on him. He didn’t like it. Not one little bit.
“Hello, Officer Baker.”
Trent turned to find Porter’s first grade teacher standing there, alone. “Oh, hi, Miss Terry.”
She looked at him with sta
rs in her eyes, and Trent had seen this look before. Not for a while, sure, but he could tell an interested female when he saw one.
“And how are you, Porter?” She looked down at the boy.
“Just fine, ma’am.” He glanced at Trent, who grinned.
“There’s Aunt Eliza, Dad. Can I just go in with her?”
Trent turned again and saw Eliza and her family coming toward them. She wore a purple dress, as did both of her girls. Her husband wore a purple tie, and Trent smiled at the way they all matched
“I don’t know if you can go with them, bud,” Trent said as her sister arrived. “Your tie is blue.”
“Very funny,” Eliza said with a smile. She kissed Trent on the cheek and whispered, “Where’s Lauren?”
“Coming.” He straightened and said, “Porter’s dying to go in. You have an extra ticket for him?”
“Sure thing.” Eliza took her nephew by the hand and they marched right on by Trent. It was in that moment that he realized they’d left him alone with Miss Terry.
“You’re not going in?” she asked.
“Oh, I am,” he said. “My date has our tickets and she’s not here yet.”
Miss Terry’s smile didn’t hitch, but she started walking toward the door. “Have a good night, Officer.”
He sighed as she went, not wanting to hurt her feelings. But going out with her when he had a girlfriend would be more hurtful, as he knew from personal experience. Plus, if things didn’t work out with Lauren, he at least knew where he could get his next date.
But the idea of things not working out with Lauren made him cringe. She really was the first woman he’d been interested in from the very first moment he’d met her. And he’d asked her out himself instead of being set up. He really wanted things to keep going well between them.
He wandered away from the front doors, wanting a moment with Lauren where there weren’t dozens of people watching them.
He took his hat off as he left the garden lights behind, almost wishing this night was already over.
Even with slow steps, he arrived at the back of the mansion before Lauren texted again. I’m coming up.
Hawthorne Harbor Box Set Page 67