by Louise, Tia
Reaching up, I’d touched the hot tear on my cheek. “Dad loved finding these things for people. He said the romance of our work was completing collections or finding long lost treasures.”
“Your father was a long-lost treasure.”
“Oh, God.” Dropping my face into my hands, I had to take a minute while the tears flooded my eyes.
“Hey…” Spencer pulled me to his chest in an uncharacteristic display of affection. “Easy now.” He held me tightly, rubbing his hand up and down my back.
“Look, Mamma, look!” Melody bounced into the room on a giant rubber ball with a handle between her knees, her golden curls dancing around her shoulders in a thick, glossy cascade. That hair could only have come from Scout’s side of the family. “It’s a horsey-ball! Yee-haw!”
I was so thankful to have her that day. Stepping away from Spencer, I dropped to my knees, smiling through my tears. “I had one of those when I was your age.”
Her big blue eyes widened, and she ran off the ball into my arms. “Don’t cry, Mamma!” Her little, three-year-old hands were in my hair, and she smoothed it away from my face. “Pawpaw is watching us from heaven, remember? He’s always with us. That’s what you said.”
“That’s right.” I’d smiled, but my sorrow was exposed by the tears sliding down my cheeks. “I’m just going to miss talking to him is all.”
Her little nose scrunched, and she looked so much like her dad. “Pawpaw was grumpy.”
I laughed, pulling her closer in a hug. “He was very grumpy. But he loved us so much, he left us all this stuff.”
Melody picked up a little doll from one of the boxes. “Who is she? She looks like Charlotte.”
“She does!” I smiled at her reference to the ragdoll in Little House in the Big Woods we were reading at bedtime. “You want to keep her?”
“She’s really old.” She carefully touched the doll’s ceramic face with her small fingers. “Would it be okay?”
“I think Pawpaw would have liked you to have her.”
She hopped away into the stacks of antiques, and I exhaled a heavy sigh, shaking my head. “I’ll hire somebody to sort all of this. I can’t ask you to do it. It’s too much.”
He wouldn’t hear any arguments. “We’re between seasons. I’ll have my assistant in here with an intern.” He’d smoothed a hand down the front of his wool blazer like it was decided. “We’ll catalog everything and send you the inventory sheet by the end of the week.”
It was like a twenty-ton weight lifted off my chest. “How can I ever repay you?”
“I would think that’s obvious. You’ll give me my pick of whatever you don’t want to keep for yourself.”
“It’s a deal.” We’d shaken hands, and it was done.
Here I am, three months later with a massive check, a delivery of priceless antiques, and Spencer on the line.
“The AF Martin guitar! I know who will want this.” I lift it from a bed of biodegradable packing peanuts.
“I hope it’s someone with money.” Spencer is so bossy on my phone. “It’s worth twenty grand.”
“I know,” I laugh softly as I trace my finger along the scuff marks from ancient belt-buckles.
“If anything is missing or damaged, let me know immediately. I insured all of those boxes.”
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help with this.”
“I was well paid.”
I’m sure he was. We disconnect, and I’m carefully cutting open the next box when a friendly male voice stops me.
“What’s all this? Delivery day?” I look up with a smile to find Chad Tucker, sheriff of Oceanside Village entering the store.
He’s tall with dark hair and broad shoulders, and he reminds me of every Superman in the movies. He’s muscular with a dimple right in his cheek and kind blue eyes. He takes the notion of neighborhood policing seriously, regularly checking on all of the business owners in town, especially Emberly and me—the single moms.
“It’s the remaining inventory from my dad’s store. My old work friend in Columbia sent it all to me.”
His dark brow furrows, and concern fills his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Daisy.”
“Oh, no. Spencer respected my dad so much, he probably did a better job than I could have done going through everything.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“I’m afraid it is. I was so emotional at the time, and Spencer has so much knowledge and experience.” Lifting the lid off the next box, I take out a heavy wooden clock. Regulator is printed in gold across the front. “I don’t think anyone would have handled his estate better.”
“Mister Chad! Mister Chad!” Melody stomps into the room pumping a child-sized football over her head and yelling at the top of her voice. “Go far!”
My sentimental mood evaporates. “Melody Kate Dunne, don’t you dare throw that football in this store.”
Chad laughs, “I do think you’re going to be okay.” He motions my daughter to the door. “Come on, Mel. Let’s play outside.”
“Outside!” My little girl’s voice is loud as she runs for the door. She’s not a bit bothered by my scolding.
“Let me know if you need anything.” Chad waves as he follows her out. “It’s go long. Try it.”
“Go long!” My daughter shouts as she takes off running.
“Now slow down… look back.”
Shaking my head, I return to the inventory list, scanning the letters and numbers that correspond with the boxes. I don’t know how I’ll fit it all in my store. Heck, I’m not even sure if I can lift some of these pieces. Maybe I do need Chad’s help after all…
Taking out a long, glass necklace, I study the F stamp on the white-gold band in the center. It’s a 1930s Fouquet glass necklace, and it’s probably worth fifteen thousand dollars. It’s the perfect gift for Aunt Regina. It’ll help her remember her older brother, and it’ll be a thank you for always taking care of me.
I slip it under the counter to wrap before returning to the box. I lift out a large pink vase with white hobnails covering the body and the signature ruffled top lip. It’s Fenton art glass, and I can’t help wondering if Spencer might have included a note.
I’m digging around when a familiar male voice makes my heart jump. “Daisy? Is that you?”
Spinning around, my breath catches. “Travis Walker?”
My eyes quickly run from his dark hair to his thin lips. He’s wearing a black tee that reveals the tattoos of snakes and fallen angels covering his long, slim arms all the way down to the tops of his hands.
“I never expected to see you again.”
“Daisy May.” His voice is scratchy sandpaper, and he smiles that wicked grin, showing off straight white teeth. I catch a glint of gold on the left side. That’s new.
I can’t decide if I’m curious or mad he’s back—I guess I’m a little bit of both. “The last time I saw you, you said this town was too boring for you.”
His square chin drops, and he chuckles. “God, I was such an asshole.”
“Yes, you were.”
His blue eyes cut up to mine from under that lowered brow, and I remember why I gave him the time of day. Travis Walker is a sexy as fuck asshole. He’s the worst kind of guy—the kind who’ll mess around and leave you flat. The kind of guy I always avoided… Until the year after Melody was born, and I realized Scout was never coming back.
It was the year I decided to stop holding onto my silly, little girl dreams of us being together. I realized we would never be anything more than friends, and the week we spent together was just a fling. Scout had gone to L.A. like he said he would. He’d started dating other women, started doing porn…
Yeah, the porn thing was a wild card.
After that discovery and my conversation with Evil Becky, I decided to wait a few years before going to L.A. for my big reveal. I wanted to get on my feet first and show everybody I wasn’t trying to trap him or destroy his dream. I didn’t need Scout Dunne.
Then Travis Walker roared in on his Harley like a bat out of hell.
He’d strutted into my shop in those black cowboy boots and faded jeans, leaned his tight ass against my 1970s Nakashima cypress table, and told me I was pretty.
My lips tighten, and I decide my anger is stronger than my curiosity. “You two-timed me with Tabby Green. Then you let her believe we were sleeping together when you crawled out of my window and left me to clean up the mess.”
His wolf eyes are contrite, and he has the nerve to step a little closer. “Damn, Daisy. Were you always this feisty?”
“No.” I take a step back. “I’ve grown up a lot in the last few years.”
“It’s sexy.” He lifts my hand, and I see a silver skull ring gleaming on his index finger. “I’ll say what I came for. I’d like to apologize for my behavior.”
“What…” You could knock me over with a feather.
“I was a jacked-up motherfucker, and I’ve learned a lot since then.”
I take my hand away, crossing my arms. “What have you learned?”
“For starters, I joined NA. That’s narcotics anonymous—”
“I know what it is.”
“I did the steps. I did the work to make myself a better person. It’s why I’m here.” Looking up, he captures me with his gaze. “I want to make it up to you, Daisy May. Will you let me do that?”
Everything in me knows this guy is bad news, but it’s been four years since I’ve slept with a guy—since I was with Scout—and my little girl dreams have started to hurt when I have them.
Maybe Sly is right and there’s no such thing as soul mates.
My eyes narrow as I study him. “What did you have in mind?”
A smile splits his cheeks, and his voice lowers. “Let me take you to dinner tomorrow night. We’ll have a few drinks and then just play it by ear.”
Melody’s laugh rings outside like a bell, and I’m snatched back to reality. “I’m sorry. That’s not a good idea.”
“No? I think it’s a great idea. We could go to the Blue Crab, catch up on old times. It’ll be fun.”
Stepping back, I shake myself. “Thanks, but No. I’m not looking to get involved with anyone right now.”
“That’s not what you said last time I was here.”
The last time he was here, I was depressed and lonely. Sly was in Charleston, and I felt intensely like an outsider in this small, beachfront hamlet. I was a single mom, and I ached for Scout so badly.
“Like I said, I’m not that girl anymore.” I’ve got my head on straight.
He gives me a crooked grin. “You’re not afraid to have dinner with me?”
“I’m not afraid of anything.” When have I said those words before?
This time I mean them.
“Then have dinner with an old friend. You’ve got to eat.”
“We were never friends,” I say through a laugh. “And I’m sorry. I’ve got Melody to consider. I don’t have a babysitter—”
“Sorry I’m late!” Donna Walsh chooses that moment to burst into the store, breathless. “Lindsey kept trying to put raisins in her nose, and I got a late start.”
Donna is the shared bookkeeper for all of us in the storefronts, and the designated babysitter for Emberly and me.
Her hair is wild around her head, and she’s struggling with the strap of her diaper bag while balancing her own daughter Lindsey on her hip. “Goodness, Donna. Take a breath.”
“Okay.” She breathes dramatically, as if she’s trying to calm down. “I planned to pick up Coco before I got Melody, but Emberly had a baking crisis and wasn’t able to get her clothes together.”
Coco marches into the room, her light brown hair in a ponytail, pumping a plastic recorder in front of her. Melody is right behind her, carrying her football, golden curls bouncing, and my chest warms at the sight of them.
“I’ve brought my didgeridoo!” Coco waves a plastic recorder over her head.
“Didgeridoo!” Melody cries, hopping in time. “Didgeridooooo.”
I look at Donna. “What’s all this?”
“Liam’s making grilled shrimp, so I told them we could pretend to be in Australia for dinner.”
Coco is five and thrilled Melody is finally old enough to play with her without being a fussy toddler. The two of them are little besties, and Lindsey squirms to get down and follow them.
Travis steps back, watching the commotion—which is totally ruining my “no babysitter” excuse.
I slide the diaper bag strap onto Donna’s shoulder. “Are you sure it’s not too much having all three of them?”
“Of course not!” Donna calls to the girls. “We’re off to the Down Under, Mates. The shrimp is on the barbie!”
“I don’t think it’s the Down Under,” I whisper. “I think it’s just Down Under.”
“Down Underwear!” Melody squeals hopping straight to me. “I’m a kangaroo!”
I can’t help a smile. Her pixie silliness melts all the tension in my chest, and I drop to my knees to catch my bubbly baby.
“Listen to me.” My voice lowers, and she stops jumping. She puts chubby little hands on my cheeks and looks into my eyes very seriously. “I want you to mind Miss Donna and be sweet to Coco and Lindsey.”
“No biting Coco! Coco is not chocolate!” She blinks hard, nodding her little head, and I wince at the memory of that awkward encounter last year.
Coco was a good sport about it, and thankfully the bite wasn’t hard enough to break the skin. Still, I wanted to die.
“No football in the house. Now give me a kiss.” She puckers her rosebud lips, and I give her a peck before hugging her with a loud grunt.
She squeezes me as hard as she can, which is simply adorable before grabbing her little backpack and tucking her football under her arm.
“Let’s go, Coco!”
“Let’s go, Mellow!”
The two little girls march out the door, and Donna gives me a quick hug. “Lindsey’s going to have so much fun with them.”
“Call me if you’re going crazy. Or Liam!” She runs out the door after them, and I’m not sure she even hears me.
The shop seems quieter as the door closes, and I turn to face the outlaw waiting for an answer.
“That was intense.” His eyebrows rise.
“That’s my life.” I nod towards the exit. “There’s the door.”
“Kids don’t bother me.” He takes a step closer, putting a hand on my desk.
The letter and receipt from Spencer falls, and I dash forward. He beats me to it, and my throat tightens as we stand, his eyes scanning the paper. He flickers a glance to me, eyebrows rising.
“It’s…” I take the papers from him and fold them together again before putting them in my purse. “I sold my father’s store in Greenville.”
“I see.”
“Well,” I exhale heavily.
“Well, well.” Now his smile is different, like he has some new information. It makes me uncomfortable. “You’ve got a babysitter. We can grab a drink.”
“Actually, I’m supposed to pick up my cousin at the airport.” Pulling my purse over my shoulder, I look at my arm. “Look at the time.”
“Tomorrow, then. I’ll be at the Tuna Tiki around seven. Meet me there for a drink.”
“Travis…” I pause at the door. How can I say I don’t trust you, you’re bad news, you only bring chaos into my life…? “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Don’t leave me hanging.” He leans down and kisses my cheek, surrounding me in his musky pepper scent.
Exhaling a little cough, I lock the door, watching him leave before jogging down to my waiting Bronco. I’ve seriously got to work on my cock blocking skills. I do not need this right now.
Nineteen
Scout
“Scout Dunne, how do you do it?” The female voice that greets me as I wait outside for Jesse makes the hair rise on the back of my neck.
“Hey, Mims.” I catch her hand before
it circles my waist, giving it a shake and dodging her hug. “How do I do what?”
“Stay so young looking, you sexy boy? Did you make a deal with the devil?” I’m not sure how it is Mims Watson sounds exactly like The Nanny… or Janice from Friends. Are they the same people? “J.R. says you’re in that new Chris Nolan picture.”
“It’s true. I’ll be in a theater near you next month.” I do a finger gun, casually attempting to put a little more distance between us.
“Flirt.” She grabs my forearm and pulls me closer. “Will I be able to see you? Or will it be like Where’s Waldo again?”
“Actually, I have several lines.” I smile, doing my best to be friendly yet distant. “But don’t get too attached. I die pretty early.”
“I will be sure to bring my tissues.” She pats my arm with each word. “Or maybe we can see it together? Like a little date.”
“Maybe. I’ll give you a call.” It’s my version of don’t call me, I’ll call you.
“It’s so exciting. You know we never believed that whole gay porn thing. So ridiculous.”
Heat rises in my throat, but I’m saved by my nephew.
“Uncle Scout! Come meet Mr. Tannern, my P.E. teacher. Over here.” Jesse jumps up and down at my side, tugging on my arm. “He’s the one to tell you’re helping Dad with the football team!”
I quickly dismiss Mims and catch his hand.
“Hey, come here, buddy.” Squatting beside him, I lower my voice. “Let me talk to your dad first. I don’t want to horn in on his situation or anything.”
“Dad said he’d love to have you working with him. I heard him telling Mom last weekend! He wishes you would stay in Fireside and never go back to L.A.”
Rocking back on my heels, I wink at my nephew. “That sounds more like something you’d say.”
Jesse puts a small hand on my shoulder. “Think about it. You two were a dynamite team. Dad misses you.”
My brow relaxes, and I laugh. “And you’re a real salesman, you know that?” Standing, I grab him around the shoulders in a rough hug. “We might be related. Now get to class before you’re late.”
I kiss him on the top of the head as I let him go. That guy. I forget sometimes he’s not in kindergarten anymore.