A Misty Harbor Wedding (3 page)

“Really? You have a boat?” Austin's words were tripping over each other in his excitement.

“No, but I know where I can borrow one.” Matt's gaze met hers. “Don't hound your mom, Austin. Let her decide which would be best.”

She wasn't positive, but she thought she just had been asked out on a date. A family date. One that included her son. Now that was a change. Most men preferred her undivided attention and privacy. “Thank you, Matt. I'm sure we'll run into you during the blueberry celebration.” She wasn't sure if she was going to accept his generous offer to take them mermaid watching or not. “I'll give you our answer then.”

“Great.” Matt gave Austin a pat on the shoulder. “Nice meeting you, Austin.”

“You too, Mr. Porter.”

Matt shook his head. “The name's Matt.” Matt gave her a long look before slowly smiling. “I'll see you on Saturday.”

She stood there watching Matt walk away and hid her smile behind her cup. Matt's coffee tasted horrible, but what he lacked in culinary skills, he more than made up for in the physique department. What Matt did for the back end of a pair of jeans should be classified as the eighth wonder of the world.

Sierra took one look at her son's mouth and tried not to cringe. It was going to take a week for his purple lips and tongue to fade back to normal. Who knew blueberries had such staining power? She glanced around the park and shrugged. Every kid there had the same purple lips and none of the other mothers looked overly concerned. Maybe they all dipped their kids into a vat of bleach before tossing them into the tub at night.

So far Austin had consumed a blueberry snow cone, two muffins, and three cups of blueberry punch. He was now eyeing a vendor selling peanut butter and blueberry jam sandwiches. It was lunch time, but one had to wonder how many more blueberries he could fit into his little tummy.

“I don't know, hon. Are you sure you want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? They have hot dogs and hamburgers over there.” She pointed to a stand set up by the local Lions Club. Half a dozen men were gathered around a fire pit that was billowing smoke, flipping burgers and slapping hot dogs onto buns. They appeared to be doing a brisk business. Experience had taught her that if all the locals were lined up at that stand, that was where she wanted to eat.

“We are post-to-be eating blueberries, Mom.” Austin tugged his baseball cap, embroidered with MAINE and a humpback whale underneath. The cap was a souvenir from the whale-watching adventure they had gone on Thursday.

Ever since Austin had spotted a finback whale, he hadn't stopped talking about whales, boats, and all the other wonders the ocean might hold, real or imaginary—especially mermaids and a talking fish named Nemo. This eventually led the conversation to Matt Porter and his promise to take them out on a boat looking for mermaids. Her son had been looking for the handsome stranger they had met at the lighthouse all morning long. So far, Matt was a no-show.

She didn't know who was more disappointed, her or her son.

“Tell you what, hon. How about I buy you a hot dog and a bag of chips with a blueberry lemonade?” She eyed the burgers and watched as they were slapped onto thick buns with slices of tomato, cheese, onions, and lettuce. Not a blueberry in sight. Her stomach rumbled with delight.

It took Austin all of two seconds to make up his mind, “Okay.”

They walked over to the Lions Club stand and took their place at the end of the line. The first week of August in Maine was gorgeous. The sun was shining and a light cool breeze was blowing in off the water. Perfect shorts and tank top weather. By this evening, when the sun went down, she would have to change into jeans and a sweatshirt.

The Alberts' home didn't have air conditioning, and at first she had thought that might be a problem in August. The past couple of nights she had slept with the windows wide open and buried under the blankets. It was the best sleep she'd had in ages, and she particularly loved waking up in the morning to the cries of the gulls as they went about their morning business.

“You want ketchup on your hot dog?” she asked. Sometimes Austin liked mustard, but usually it was plain ketchup.

She was startled and quickly spun around when a deep, familiar voice behind her said, “I'm a mustard and relish man, myself.”

“Matt!” shouted Austin with delight as he turned with her. “You came.”

“Sure did.” Matt nodded down to the small boy at his side. “Austin, I would like you to meet my nephew, Tyler. He's five years old. I figured you two might have a lot in common.”

“Hi,” said Austin as he moved closer to his mom's leg. “I'm four.”

“Do you live here?” asked Tyler.

“No, we're visiting.” Austin reached for her hand.

Her son was always shy around other kids. Austin didn't make friends easily, because they usually didn't stay in one place long enough. It was the main drawback of the family business. The intense traveling and moving was the reason she employed Rosemary Thatcher as Austin's nanny. That and the fact she would be lost without Rosemary.

When she had been seven and her mother had passed away, Rosemary Thatcher had become her nanny, friend, and surrogate mother. Sierra could barely remember her own mother, but she could describe in detail all the lectures Rosemary had given her over the years. She also remembered all the warm praise, huge bear hugs, and the love. She wanted her son raised with the same memories.

Rosemary was sixty-one and, even though she would never admit it, getting a little bit slow to be running after a very active four-year-old. When Sierra and Austin headed for Maine, Rosemary flew to Toledo, Ohio, for a long-overdue visit with her family. She missed Rosemary's company, but she was thrilled to have this time alone with her son. Austin was growing up so fast.

“Hi, Tyler. I'm Sierra, Austin's mom.” She could see the family resemblance between Tyler and his Uncle Matt. Both were on the tall side and had dark blond hair and the most amazing light blue eyes. The square, stubborn-looking jaw had to be a Porter trait.

“Hi. Who are you visiting?” asked Tyler.

“We don't know anyone here. We're just visiting your town and the surrounding area for a couple weeks.” She smiled down at the boy. “It's a wonderful place to call home, Tyler.”

“We went out on a really fast boat and saw a whale,” added Austin, trying to gain back Tyler's attention.

“What kind?” Tyler's face lit up with excitement.

“Finback,” answered Austin, who seemed very proud of the fact that he remembered what kind of whale it had been.

“No, what kind of boat?”

“If it was real fast, I'm betting it was Lawrence Blake's.” Matt ruffled the top of his nephew's head until dark blond hair was standing up in all directions. “Tyler's the boat fanatic of the family. The faster it goes, the better he likes it.”

“Don't you like whales?” Austin seemed confused as to why Tyler wouldn't be excited about the whale he had spotted.

“Whales are okay, but boats are cooler. You can't ride a whale.” Tyler glanced up at his uncle. “Can I have a hot dog too?”

“Sure thing.” Matt gave Sierra a crooked apologetic smile. “He's seen quite a few whales, so they've lost their ability to fascinate.”

She tried to ignore the hot slide of desire Matt's smile had caused. The man was lethal, but he didn't seem to be aware of that fact. Amazing. She glanced down the hill, toward the docks. From her limited vantage point, she could still see more than a dozen boats were bobbing in the harbor. “Tyler's never seen or been on a boat before? How did he see all those whales?”

Matt's gaze followed hers and he chuckled. “My nephew has wheedled and begged his way onto just about every boat down there. My brother John swears Tyler was born going thirty knots. My sister-in-law disagrees, claiming ten hours of labor doesn't constitute a speed demon.”

She couldn't help but agree with that logic. “Well, he would have loved our whale-watching adventure. Your friend Lawrence and Tyler have one thing in common: the need for speed.” She had had such a firm grip on Austin for the entire ride that her hand had ached for the rest of the day. But at least her son hadn't been flung overboard during the hair-raising ride. Lawrence should have his captain's license taken away from him for what he put those poor engines through. If she closed her eyes, she could still hear all that horsepower screaming.

“There was a bathroom on the boat,” Austin said, trying to impress Tyler and regain his attention and admiration. When that didn't seem to work, he played what any four or five-year-old would consider his trump card. “Two ladies and a guy threw up over the side of the boat. It was gross.”

Tyler's eyes lit up with excitement. “Cool! What did it look like? Did they gag like this?” Matt's nephew then proceeded to execute a stunning display of gagging and hacking. Three people who had the misfortune of standing nearby, moved back a couple of steps, out of the splatter zone.

She shivered as a shudder went through her, and she hoped her complexion hadn't turned as green as she felt. Tyler was so convincing that she had to wonder if Misty Harbor's nursery school offered drama lessons. Or had he been born with that natural talent? She gently grabbed the back of Austin's shirt and pulled him farther away from the future Academy Award winner just in case he wasn't acting.

Matt rolled his eyes and groaned at his nephew's acting ability. “Hey, Sport, why don't you and Austin go over there”—he pointed in the direction of some wooden picnic tables that had been set up for the occasion—“and save us a seat. Sierra and I will pick up lunch.”

Her son looked up at her. “Can we, Mom?”

“Sure.” The tables were only a few yards away under the leafy canopy of some maple trees. Austin and Tyler wouldn't be out of their sight for a moment. “Pick the first empty one you come to, sit down, and stay there.” Austin had obviously taken a liking to Tyler.

Matt grinned at his nephew. “You heard the lady, get.”

Both boys hurried off with a squeal of delight.

She watched as they settled themselves at the first empty table. Austin was talking about something and gesturing wildly with his hands. By his movements, she didn't want to know what the topic of conversation was. Her queasy stomach already knew that answer. “Amazing. That is the same little boy who won't touch brussels sprouts and claims cauliflower will make him puke.”

“Can't blame Austin. I won't touch brussels sprouts either.” Matt crossed his eyes and made a gagging sound that rivaled Tyler's earlier attempt. “Do you know what those things taste like?”

She chuckled at his antics. “I now see where Tyler gets his acting ability. The talent must run on the Porter side of his family.”

Matt's sexy grin curled her toes. “You think?”

“Yeah, I think.” What she was thinking had nothing to do with his acting accomplishments and everything to do with the way his light blue eyes lit up with his smile. Here she had thought a woman could drown only in men's eyes that were deep, dark, and brown. At thirty-one years old and divorced, she still was learning a thing or two about the male population. With warm liquid desire tugging at her gut, she had only two words to say to that:
Thank heavens !

Life was too short to think she had seen and experienced all it had to offer. To top that, she loved surprises. Matt Porter looked like he could be full of surprises.

Her smile matched Matt's, but she was thankful for the dark lens of her sunglasses hiding her eyes from his scrutiny. Everyone had always told her that her eyes were windows into her soul, that her every emotion sparkled in her gray eyes. She didn't want Matt to see whatever feeling she was experiencing. The delicious sense of longing was too new and different. She didn't fully trust it, but she was curious enough to see where it might lead.

She was in Misty Harbor on a working vacation. There was nothing preventing her from enjoying the vacation part of the next six weeks. “So, Matthew Porter, do you attend the Blueberry Festival every year?”

“Only when there's something interesting going on.” The glint in his gaze told her exactly what he was interested in, and it had nothing to do with blueberries or the surrounding activities.

Her vacation was certainly looking up. “So what has you so interested? The hot dogs or the hamburgers?”

Matt was saved from answering, as an older man with a combed-over bald spot and a grease-splattered apron approached the folding table that was set up as a makeshift counter. “Well, Sierra, I see you already met one of the town's most eligible bachelors.” Lenny Holmes had big brown eyes, a gut so big the apron barely covered it, and one of the warmest smiles she had ever seen.

“You did warn me, Lenny, that they would be falling out of the trees and lying thick on the ground.” She grinned at the memory of meeting Lenny on her third day in town. He had shown up at the Alberts' house ready to mow the lawn bright and early one morning. The grass hadn't really needed cutting, so he pulled a few weeds, entertained Austin with wild tales of shipwrecks and pirates, and stayed for breakfast.

So far Matt was the only bachelor she had met, if one didn't count the annoying Wendell Kirby, who had cornered her one evening while she and Austin had been enjoying double-scoop cones at Bailey's Ice Cream Parlor and Emporium. Wendell had given her the creeps with his slicked-back thinning hair, fake smile, and pushy ways.

“I take it you two know each other.” Matt seemed both amused and embarrassed about being labeled an eligible bachelor.

“Sierra makes a western omelet so hot and spicy that you will think you've died and all your sins have caught up with you.” Lenny chuckled at his own description.

“I thought you liked it.” She had warned Lenny the omelet was going to be spicy, and he had assured her the hotter, the better. Maybe she had spent too much time in the southwest and had become accustomed to the Mexican influence in her cooking.

“I didn't like it. I loved it.” Lenny gave her a big grin. “I've been trying to get my gal, Evelyn, to make one just like it, but so far it's just not the same. Is there a secret ingredient or something you forgot to tell me when you gave me the recipe?”

“You stood there and watched me make it, Lenny. There was no secret ingredient.” She chuckled at the sweet thought of sixty-one-year-old Lenny having a girlfriend. One who made him breakfast, no less. “Maybe your Evelyn can come over one morning and I'll show her how I do it.”

“Evelyn Ruffles wins the Misty Harbor Bake-Off every year with a German chocolate cake that is out of this world.” Matt closed his eyes and sighed at some dreamy distant memory.

She tried not to laugh. The men of Misty Harbor sure liked their food.