by Kay Lyons
Had he not been looking down, he would've missed the sight of her hands tightening on the bench where they sat.
"Rich is with his new family. He called and came to see Samuel the first few months after we separated, but we haven't… heard from him since the new baby was born six months into our separation."
Her voice had lowered, but whether it was for the sharing of private information or because of the anger in her tone, he wasn't sure. "So he's nearby?"
"Charlotte. Close enough to see his son but not enough to make the effort." She shoved herself up off of the bench. "I'm going to go get those drinks. Sammy? Stay put. I'll be right back."
"Okay, Mom."
Ireland walked away and Dom stood when he saw Samuel reel in the last of his line. Casting off the close confines of the pier meant keeping an eye out for people passing by who were more aware of the view than the possibility of being snagged by a hook.
A large pelican landed not far from where they stood.
"Hey, Pete."
"I take it you know him?" Dominic was nearly as fascinated by the large bird as the pelican seemed to be with him. Pete blinked his beady eyes and opened his beak, spreading his wings.
"Yeah, he's my friend. He does that so I'll feed him some bait."
"Ah." Dominic watched as Samuel dug into their supply and found a few choice morsels. Sam tossed them toward Pete, who caught them with practiced ease. "Looks like he's used to getting fed."
"Lots of people know Pete. My mom doesn't like talking about my dad."
The change in topic left Dom a little behind. "You heard that, huh?"
"Yeah. Catch it, Pete!" Sam tossed another piece of fish, and the pelican caught it and tilted his head back and worked to get it down. "Mom tries to do man stuff with me because my dad isn't around, but my grandpa is better at it."
"Is that so?"
"You're pretty good, too."
Dominic laughed. "Well, thanks for the compliment."
"You ever play baseball?"
"Yeah, all through school. I coached my son's Little League team for a few years, too. Why do you ask?"
Samuel shrugged. "No reason."
"You sure about that?"
Pete the Pelican saw bigger fish across the pier and took flight, flapping his wings and doing the same motions as he had when he'd first landed by them. People stopped to take photos.
Samuel turned back to where he'd leaned his fishing pole and baited his hook.
"My grandpa was going to help me learn how to throw a slider, but then he had to take my grandma on a trip for their anniversary since it was a big number."
"A big number, huh? Do you know how many?"
"Forty, I think. I heard my mom tell Aunt Frankie it was a big deal."
"Being married that long is a big deal. Do they own the inn where your mom works?" He hated to seek information from a child, but they had to talk about something until his mom returned.
"Yeah. They're kinda retired but not. My mom says grandpa will never retire because he'd get bored and he likes talking to the fishermen too much. Grandma says he likes looking at the girls on the beach, though."
Dominic chuckled, sure it was probably a little of both. He could see where a man used to traveling and being around people all day would find retirement a drastic change. And the view was a bonus for any red-blooded male. "So you were asking me about baseball because you want to learn how to throw a good slider?"
"Yeah."
"Did you ask your coach?" He looked around to make sure the area was clear when Samuel brought the pole back to cast. With a fling of the rod, the bait went flying, and Dom knew if the kid could throw like he cast, he was a decent player for his age.
"Yeah, but… Never mind. You won't be here anyways."
"You know, it wouldn't take me long to teach you how to throw a good slider.”
Samuel's expression made the change in plans worth the unease he felt at lingering in Carolina Cove and possibly taking advantage of the prepaid stay. The kid's face lit up, and he held the rod with one hand while pulling the other fist back in a boyish Yessss!
"Well, what's got you so happy? Did you catch something?" Ireland asked.
"No. But Dominic is going to stay longer. Isn't that great, Mom?"
Chapter 6
"Will you stop worrying? They're fine," London said as she set a latte in front of Ireland. "Frankie can see them on the field from her garage, and she's keeping a sharp eye on them."
"I know. And if I had even an inkling that Dominic Dunn wasn't the man Lisa claimed him to be, my son would not be hanging out with him. But you don't have kids. The worry never ends."
"Yeah, well, I may not have kids but I get worrying about weirdos and pervs these days. You Googled, right?"
"Of course."
"So there you go. You know Frankie can and will take him down if she sees anything weird. And if you're that worried, you could walk down there and watch."
She could. But Samuel had made a point of saying it was a “guy trip,” and she knew he needed the time without his mom hanging around. Knowing that didn't make doing it any easier to stomach though. "I know. It's just… I feel bad. The man isn't here to fish with my kid or teach him how to throw a ball."
"Stop worrying. He obviously doesn't mind or he wouldn't have agreed. Besides, he's here alone, so maybe it's a good distraction from why, you know?"
"Yeah, I guess." Ireland released a low groan and decided a change in subject was in order. "You haven't stopped glaring at the door. What's up with that?" She watched as her younger-by-two-years sister shrugged. "Uh-uh. Not buying it. Spill."
"Fine. Right before you walked in, I heard that the hurricane may be changing course.”
They’d had a few quiet years, but ever since the hurricane last year, London had been more weather-conscious, no doubt due to the weather’s impact on her business. “It’ll be okay. It’s still waaaay out there, which means it could change course a half-dozen times before making landfall.”
London inhaled and sighed. “You’re right.”
Ireland glanced around the coffee shop, taking in the wide array of offerings London displayed in an attempt to make her sales quota and lure in customers. In addition to coffee, ice cream, T-shirts, and books, the shop sold trinkets and postcards and locally made wares. “Everything changes when you own a business and live here, doesn’t it?”
“Got to pay the price to live in paradise, right? So is he cute?"
"Who?"
"Seriously? Dominic Dunn, that's who. With a name like that he has to be cute. Is he?"
"He's… yeah. Yeah."
"That's it? Two yeahs and a shrug?"
"That's it." Because what could she say? Lisa's husband was handsome.
"You kill me."
"What do you expect? The man is a guest at the inn, a widower mourning a sweet friend—"
"The sweet friend who planned this whole weird thing why?"
Good question. "I'm not sure. He asked me about it today, too. If I knew why. It is weird, right? I mean, yeah, there was a whole movie based on doing this kind of thing, and it was great, but it was fiction. This is real life. Who plans a trip for the one left behind a year later? Lisa was a wonderful person, but I don’t understand her thinking then or now. I mean, I don't know how I'd feel about it. It has to be painful. A reminder of everything lost because she's not here to enjoy it with him."
"Maybe this is her goodbye gift?"
"She's gone, Londy. She said goodbye a year ago."
"Yeah, but maybe this is her last goodbye? As in, she planned this trip for him to one of her favorite places and she's going to tell him to move on. She left a letter for you to give him when he leaves, right?"
Ireland glanced around them even though they were the only two people at the bar. "Shhh. That's a secret. I shouldn't have told you that. I was just so blown away at the time when she gave me the letter and left to go home that I had to tell someone."
"And I've
kept the secret. What you shouldn't have told me is where you put the letter for safekeeping. Do you know how badly I've wanted to steam it open and read it and the restraint it's taken not to?"
"Note to self: move the letter," Ireland muttered as she lifted her coffee for a sip.
"Mmm. Might be wise, especially considering he's actually here now and time is running out to know what it says."
"Stop it. Can we talk about something else?"
"Why? Come on, he's obviously a decent guy if he's up for church, fishing, and teaching your kid a baseball thing."
"He might be but facts are facts—he's just visiting, so it doesn't matter. Plus, it could also be for show. You remember how Rich was always pretending to be such a good guy? He went to church, played dad to Sam, and seemed like such a great person. But when it came down to it, he wasn't what he presented himself to be."
"You can't let that loser keep you from someone new, though."
"I'm not."
"Aren't you?"
"All I'm saying is I don't trust my judgment anymore. And, again, Dominic is a guest, who is now leaving tomorrow instead of today thanks to my son's big blue eyes and request for help. He's not a local who'll be sticking around when the season is over, and even if he was, there's the obvious fact he is still mourning. The man's heart is broken. Anyone can see that."
"Well, I actually wasn't referring to Dominic Dunn when I said that about someone new, but it's interesting that your mind automatically went there." London waggled her eyebrows up and down. "Maybe what Dominic needs is someone to heal the pieces, and who better to do that than someone who knows what it's like to have a broken heart?"
"You never give up, do you?"
"Just being straight with you." London leaned against the counter and tapped her nails against the polished surface. "What on earth?"
The heat of the day had given way to a beautiful afternoon with cool eastern breezes, so London had opened one of the exterior doors to let the smell of freshly brewed coffee lure customers inside. However, her incoming customer had four paws and a wagging tail. "Friend of yours?"
"No. Never seen this one before. And no leash? Hey, you. Who'd you escape from?"
The golden retriever paused long enough to survey the surroundings and seemingly judge his welcome, spotted Rosie, and slowly padded across the floor for a sniff. Rosie eyed the much larger dog with a tilt of her chin and a few sniffs of her own before settling back down on her bed with a jingle of her bell-collar. The beautiful golden lowered himself to the floor beside the bed and Rosie, propped his chin on the cushion, and settled in as though preparing for a nap. "They certainly seem to know each other."
"How? She's never outside without me, and sadly I remember dogs and their names better than I do people." London moved across the floor and squatted down beside the golden, petting his large head. "Maybe Rosie just knows he's a good boy? Yes, you are."
Ireland laughed when London's voice went into doggy-talk mode. "Does he have a collar?"
"Such a good boy. Yes, you are. Ah, there it is. You were hiding it with all that fur, weren't you? Huh? What's your name? Ooh, Rocco. Hey, Rocco. Where did you come from? Oh, good, there's a number."
"I'm on it."
London rattled off the digits while she continued to pet Rocco, and Ireland tapped them into her cell phone and waited for the call to connect. "No answer. I'll leave a mess— Hi, I'm calling from London's Lattes to let you know your dog Rocco wandered in. We'll keep him here for you to pick up. Thanks."
"Did the message give a name?"
"No, it was one of those automated things."
London continued petting the large dog and talking in doggy-voice while Rocco simply snuffled out a sigh and relaxed even more.
"You think he's hungry?"
Ireland sipped her drink and shrugged. "Doesn't seem to be. Just tired. At least he's not pestering Rosie."
"Yeah, I know. Isn't that weird how they're just so…"
"Calm? Yeah, totally. You're sure you don't remember him?"
"Positive. But hopefully his owner will be in to get him soon." London ran her hand over the dog's head a few more times before standing and returning to the area behind the bar, where she washed her hands. "Now back to you."
"What about me?"
"Ireland, come on. When are you going to go on a date? You've been asked. I know you have."
"Yeah, mostly by men out of earshot of their wives at the inn." It was amazing what men would say despite the ring on their finger. Added to what she'd been through with her ex and the divorce and she couldn't help but think finding a good man was like searching for that proverbial needle in a haystack. "I'm busy. It's tough being a single parent."
"Which is all the more reason to date, so maybe one day you won't have to go it alone anymore."
"Who has time? And why is this all about me? You've been asked out, too, but you're just as single as I am."
"I date, though. When someone intrigues me," London added when Ireland shot her a disbelieving look. "Okay, fine, not many intrigue me enough to put forth the effort, I’ll admit, but I go when it happens. My point is that you haven't gone on a single date since you moved here. Nada. I don't have the backup support you have for the inn and pier house, but… I date. What's your excuse besides fear?"
What was her excuse? Wasn't having her heart ripped out good enough? "You know I've always been… picky. Besides, I don't want to date just to have something to do on a Friday night. Dating should be about more than that."
"Agreed. But before you can get to that something 'more,' there has to be an actual get-to-know-them date first. Right?"
"I suppose. But Sammy requires all of the energy and attention I can—"
"Mooom, guess what?" Samuel ran into the coffee shop through the open door, skidding to a halt in front of Ireland. "I did it! You gotta come watch me!"
Ireland grinned at her son before shooting a purposeful glance at her sister. "See?"
"Uh, yeah. I definitely see something."
London's gaze wasn't on Ireland, though. Or Samuel. Ireland turned to see what London referred to and caught her breath as Dominic Dunn's broad shoulders filled the doorway. He stepped inside, and for the first time since he'd checked in last night, he wore a relaxed smile that highlighted his ruggedly handsome features.
And all she could do was… see.
Chapter 7
Dominic entered the coffee shop behind Samuel and smiled at the boy's enthusiasm. The kid had a great arm, and once he'd learned the mechanics, he'd improved with every throw.
"You must be Dominic."
He removed his sunglasses as he walked deeper into the building, taking the brunette's hand in his own. "London, right?"
"That's right."
"Cool! Whose dog?"
Samuel ran over to where a large golden retriever stretched out on the floor beside a wiener dog wearing a turquoise skull-and-crossbones collar. London quickly explained the situation.
"Can we keep him if his owner doesn't show up?"
"His owner will show up," Ireland told her son. "It's only been a few minutes since we called to let them know where he is."
"Ahhh, man," Samuel muttered, his disappointment obvious.
"Hey, what happened to how excited you were just a second ago?"
"And what kind of reaction is that when poor little Rosie is listening? You're going to hurt her feelings," London said to her nephew.
"Sorry, Rosie." Samuel stopped petting the retriever long enough to stroke the small dog's long body a few times. "But you're not a big dog like this one. I bet he'd be good at fetching a Frisbee."
"Hurtful," London said with a teasing wink at Samuel. "Good thing Rosie and I love you. You want some cold water?”
"Yes, please."
"Dominic? Would you like a drink?"
"Uh, yeah. A sweet tea sounds good, thanks."
"Coming right up."
"Do you mind if I sit?" he asked Ireland.
&n
bsp; "No, of course not."
"We were actually just discussing you," London said, handing Ireland a kid's cup of ice water before turning back to make his drink.
Dominic would have to be blind to miss the look exchanged between the two sisters. "Oh?"
"Yes. Ireland said you were planning to leave today but stayed to help Samuel. As his unofficial favorite aunt, we appreciate that."
"It was fun. I haven't been on the ball field in a few years. I didn't realize how much I've missed it."
"There are a few pickup games around between area groups," London said. "You should join in for a game. If you decide to stay, I mean."
"Will you?" Samuel asked. "It'd be cool to see the grown-ups play."
"You've never been to a baseball game? A grown-up one?"
"No. Mom always says we'll go to a Sharks game sometime but we still haven't."
London tapped on her phone like she answered a text.
"Patience," Ireland said to her son. "We will go soon."
"Well, Wednesday is your day off," London murmured, lifting her head to smile at her sister. "And according to this," she said, waving the phone like a trophy, "there's a game that day. You guys should totally go."
"Can we? Please, Mom? Dominic, you wanna come, too?"
"Mr. Dunn," Ireland corrected.
"Actually, I hope it's okay but I told him to call me Dominic. Mr. Dunn makes me think I'm at work."
"Can we? Can he, Mom?"
"I-I suppose we could but Dominic is leaving—"
"I wouldn't mind," Dominic said, surprising himself more than Ireland with the words. "If you don't mind, that is. I don't want to intrude on your mother-son time, or your day off, but the truth of it is if I return to Atlanta too early, my coworkers won't allow me back in the office."
"Aren't you a partner? I thought I remembered Lisa telling me that?"
He lowered his head, a huff of a laugh emerging from his chest. "Yeah, I am, but Lisa arranged the trip with them, too, and I was all but thrown out for the duration with instructions to follow Lisa's orders to not return until then.”