Harbor Lights (11 page)

“My eyes are wide open,” she assured Laurie. “I promise.”

Her friend apparently heard the finality in her voice, because she sighed even more deeply. “You know I’m only a phone call away if that ever changes.”

“I know,” Shanna said. “And you’ll never know just how much I appreciate that. I couldn’t have gotten through the past couple of years without you.”

And she hoped with everything in her that she’d never need to lean on Laurie in that way again.

Kevin went down to Harbor Lights Marina first thing on Monday morning to buy a fishing boat. It was an impulse, but it was also a necessity.

After spotting the warm and inviting picture Shanna
made with Davy sound asleep in her lap after Sunday’s midday dinner, half of his resolutions about her had flown right out the window. In that instant he’d seen how much Davy needed a mother, someone warm and gentle to hold and comfort him. Gram and his sisters were excellent substitutes, but it wasn’t the same.

An instant later with his willpower wavering, he knew he needed to do something to assure that he and Shanna wouldn’t cross paths. He would not allow himself to get involved with anyone just to give his son a mother. If he was out on the water for hours on end, then he’d be far away from temptation in the form of the pretty bookseller who seemed to have a way with his son. Buying a fishing boat became an immediate priority.

At Harbor Lights, he wandered the docks until he spotted Hawk Cooper with his bald head, leathery skin and sharp eyes. The son of a waterman, Hawk hadn’t been able to give up living by the sea; he had built his marina at the same time Mick had been developing Chesapeake Shores. Old friends, they’d coordinated their plans to ensure that the docks would complement the town. Residents of Chesapeake Shores had docking privileges at special rates, though there were plenty of nonresidents whose yachts and speedboats could be found there during the summer months.

Hawk’s customers ranged from the superwealthy owners of sixty-foot cabin cruisers to those who owned only a small sailboat for weekend excursions. In the past year or two, he’d even added a section for the growing number of kayakers in town who wanted to store their crafts by the water, rather than in their garages.

In touch with boaters and marinas from Maryland, Delaware and Virginia, he also brokered deals on boats of every size and description.

“Well, look at you,” he said to Kevin. “It’s been a long time since you’ve come poking around down here on my docks. Heard you were back home. I’m real sorry about what happened—”

Kevin cut him off before he could say more. “You still selling boats, Hawk?”

“Of course. You in the market for one? Maybe a pretty little sailboat? I’ve got a real nice one in stock right now.”

“Actually I’m looking for something bigger, something I could use for fishing charters.”

Hawk stared at him, clearly taken aback by Kevin’s request. “Son, do you have any idea what that business is like these days?” Hawk demanded, his tone gruff, his concern apparent. “The life was hard enough when my father was working these waters, but with fish and crab supplies dwindling and the regulations about catches getting stiffer all the time, a man can’t hardly make a living that way. Add in the cost of fuel, and it can ruin you before you get started, especially if you’re thinking of going clear out to the ocean.”

“I think I’ll stick to the bay,” Kevin told him, though to be truthful he hadn’t given the matter much thought until just that minute.

“Well, that’s something, I guess.” Hawk studied Kevin, his expression thoughtful. Then he gave another shake of his head. “I’ve known you since you were a boy. I know you’re going through a rough time. No offense, but maybe you should think this through some more.”

“No offense taken, but I’ve made up my mind,” Kevin insisted. “Can you find me a boat or not?”

“Well, of course, I can,” Hawk said indignantly. “There’s not a boat for sale within a hundred miles of here that I can’t get for you. I’ll negotiate a fair deal, too. Give me a couple of days.”

“I want it today,” Kevin said, afraid if he waited, second thoughts would start to creep in. At Hawk’s startled look, he said, “I don’t mean I have to take possession today, just that I want to find the boat and make the deal.”

“What’s your hurry?”

Kevin tried to explain, but words failed him. “It’s a step forward, that’s all. I need to take it now.”

“Give me a few hours at least,” Hawk said, compromising. “Come back after lunch. I’ll have some material faxed in here.”

Since there wasn’t a fishing boat actually docked in the marina, Kevin knew that was the best Hawk could do. “I’ll be back at one.”

“Make it two. They might have something down at Mitchell’s place. Might be able to get it up here for you to see by then.”

Kevin nodded in agreement.

That afternoon at two-fifteen, after walking through the boat stem to stern and getting Hawk’s assurances that it was mechanically sound, he signed the papers and wrote his check, then made arrangements with Hawk for dock space.

He’d expected to feel relieved that he had not only a plan, but an actual boat. Instead, all he felt was overwhelmed.

“Why on earth did you buy a boat?” Bree demanded when she caught up with him one evening a week later. He was sitting on the still-warm sand, while Davy splashed around at the edge of the water.

“Jess’s idea,” he said succinctly.

“Well, what was she thinking?” Bree grumbled.

“That I could take out fishing charters,” he said.

“And are you planning to do that?”

“Not yet. I need to check into getting certified for a captain’s license.”

“Have you checked into it?”

“Not yet.”

She nodded triumphantly. “Just as I thought. This wasn’t about fishing at all. You could care less whether you ever catch a croaker or a rockfish, much less whether anyone else does. This is all about running scared.”

Saints protect him from all the women who thought they knew him so damn well. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Five-two, green eyes,” she said. “Ring any bells?”

“If you’re so sure that Shanna wants a man in her life, why don’t you fix her up with one of Jake’s friends. Mack and Will are both available.” But even as he said the words, the thought of Shanna going out with either one of them made him a little crazy.

Bree frowned. “You really wouldn’t mind? I mean I thought of you first, but she and Mack might get along, too. Of course, he’s spending a lot of time with Susie, doing something they both describe as definitely
not
dating. I’ll have to see if that leaves room for something that actually
is
dating.”

“Whatever,” he said, his voice low and suddenly hostile.

A grin spread across her face. “Thought so. You hate the idea.”

“It’s none of my business,” he insisted.

“It is if you want her for yourself.”

“Which I don’t,” he said adamantly.

“Liar.”

“Pest.”

In what was becoming an all-too-familiar pattern, she
kissed him on the cheek before leaving him with one last gibe. “Coffee, Kev. Just meet her for coffee one day. It’s not a big deal. Men and women do it all the time. It doesn’t have to lead to something huge, but you’d be keeping your options open.”

No matter what his sister said, though, he knew it was a big deal. When a man was still pining for the wife he’d lost, the prospect of having coffee with another woman was almost paralyzing. He felt disloyal even thinking about it. As for actually uttering the invitation, he knew the words would get stuck in his throat.

As it turned out, the whole thing was taken out of his hands. By his son. Even if it was a little scary and a whole lot exasperating, he had to love that his kid had somehow inherited the matchmaking gene of his sisters and grandmother.

Shanna glanced out the window of the store and saw Kevin walking down the street, his stride paced to accommodate the boy beside him. The picture the two of them made filled her with that now-familiar sense of longing. This had to stop. One of these days, Kevin was going to catch her staring at him like some kid peering in at a display of forbidden candy. The probability of such a totally humiliating moment had her drawing away from the window.

After several minutes, when it became clear that they hadn’t been coming here after all, she sighed and the feeling of anticipation died. She had six new boxes of books to unpack. She needed to focus her attention on that and not stand around like some lovesick fool.

A moment later, she heard a commotion outside and a high-pitched squeal, followed by a demand for books. She
glanced up as a resigned-looking Kevin came into the store, his eager boy tugging on his hand.

“Hi, guys,” she said, her heart thumping. “You here for more books, Davy?”

He tore free from his father’s grip and toddled toward her. “You read,” he commanded.

She immediately fell under his spell. “I can do that. Let’s pick out a book.” She glanced at Kevin. “Do you mind?”

“Please, be my guest. I’ll just sit quietly over here with a cup of coffee.”

“It’s fresh. I just made it a few minutes ago. I think I finally have the knack for it. It’s almost as good as yours.”

He nodded and turned his back on them.

Shanna led the way to the picture books, then knelt down beside Davy to help him choose. He found three right away. The first, one with few words, had lots of pictures of trucks, which she’d noticed was a favorite theme of his. Another was about a fire engine and the third about a train. When Shanna took them over to the sofa and sat down, he snuggled in right beside her. She breathed in the scent of baby shampoo and little boy and nearly sighed with contentment.

Since the store was usually deserted at this hour, she read to Davy for nearly an hour without interruption. Then Kevin took pity on her.

“That’s enough, pal. Pick out the one book you want and then we need to give Shanna a break.”

“It’s fine,” she protested. “As you can tell, it’s dead this time of day. I usually close for a half hour and run down to Sally’s to grab some lunch.”

“You haven’t eaten yet?” Kevin asked.

“No.”

He looked at Davy, toward the front of the store, everywhere but directly at her, seemingly mulling over what he was going to say or do next. “We could, that is, I’d like to take you to lunch, you know, as thanks for spending all this time with Davy.”

No man had ever sounded more nervous—or endearing—as he stammered out the invitation.

“I mean, Davy and I were heading to Sally’s for grilled cheese sandwiches when he spotted the books. You should join us.” He hesitated. “If you want to.”

“Okay,” she said, unable to resist.

And that was how it began, what turned into almost-daily outings to Sally’s. With each occasion, Shanna fell a little bit more in love. What she couldn’t be sure about was whether it was the man or the package she was coming to love. And after all Kevin had been through, she knew she didn’t dare get the answer to that wrong.

B
ree had been right about coffee—or lunch, as it had turned out—not being such a big deal. Kevin was growing increasingly comfortable during the hour or two he spent with Shanna almost every day. He no longer felt the need to hide out down at the docks on a boat he still wasn’t convinced held the key to his future.

Their conversations were light and breezy, mostly about books they were reading, places they’d traveled, his certification classes for his captain’s license or his uncle Thomas’s well-reported environmental fight to improve the quality of the Chesapeake Bay. They were both appalled that the nation’s largest estuary continued to deteriorate despite the legislative act passed by several states to protect it. Kevin loved that Shanna was as passionate about this as he was.

Neither of them ventured into personal territory, either by unspoken mutual consent or because Davy’s frequent presence precluded it.

By the time Shanna was able to take her break, Sally’s was mostly deserted, so they weren’t even subjected to the scrutiny of the locals. That limited the gossip around town, though Kevin knew that his sisters and grandmother were
all aware of these outings. He didn’t doubt for a second that Bree had taken note and filled them all in, but to his relief, they’d kept astonishingly silent on the subject, probably intent on not jinxing whatever might be developing.

Today, he and Shanna had just finished their cups of crab soup when his cell phone rang. Since Davy was at Abby’s with the girls, he had to answer in case there was an emergency with his son.

“Kevin, this is Martha,” his late wife’s mother said, sounding emotional. “I was just sitting here thinking about Georgia today, and I figured you would be, too, so I had to call. She would have turned twenty-nine today.” Her voice broke, and it was a minute before she was able to continue. “I’m sorry. I thought I was okay when I dialed your number, but sometimes it just hits me like this. I can’t believe my baby girl is gone.”

Her sobs cut right through him, partly because he understood her grief and partly because until she’d mentioned it, he’d forgotten all about today being Georgia’s birthday. How had the date gotten past him? And what was he doing spending the occasion with another woman, however innocently? Today of all days, he should be mourning his wife.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his own voice choked. He mouthed an apology to Shanna, then walked outside to finish the call in private. “I should have called you,” he told his former mother-in-law.

“It’s okay,” Martha said. “I understand. Believe it or not, I really am fine most of the time. I thought maybe I’d feel better hearing Davy’s voice. Is he there? It’s not his nap time, is it?”

“Actually Davy’s over at my sister’s with her girls.
Abby and Trace organized a picnic for the kids on the beach.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s loving that,” she said. “Would you mind if John and I come up for a visit soon? I don’t want my grandson to grow up without knowing the Davis side of the family.”

“You have an open invitation,” Kevin assured her. “Just let me know whenever you want to come.” He thought of the awkward visit he’d paid to his former in-laws in Texas after Georgia’s death, but still made himself say, “Or I can bring Davy down to visit you in Beaumont again, if you like. I want you to spend as much time as you can with him. Extended families are important. And he should hear all the stories that only you can tell him about his mom.”

“Oh, I’m so relieved to hear you say that. In situations like this, it’s so hard to know what to do. I know someday you’ll move on, perhaps even marry again, but Davy’s all…” Again, her voice grew thick. “Well, you understand.”

“Yes, I do,” he said. “Make those arrangements to come for a visit, okay? And if you can’t find the right time, I’ll bring Davy there. I promise.”

“I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out,” she said. “Please give Davy a huge hug for me.”

“I will,” he promised. “And you tell John I said hello.”

“I most surely will. We love you, Kevin. I know things didn’t turn out the way any of us hoped or expected, but you are family to us.”

Kevin felt an unexpected sting of tears in his eyes at these words from a woman he’d never found particularly demonstrative. She’d remained dry-eyed and detached during their wedding and during her daughter’s funeral. Apparently, though, her stoicism had finally shattered. His own was taking a hit right now, too.

“Thanks,” he managed to say at last. “We’ll talk again soon.”

“Yes, we will,” she said.

He clicked off the phone, drew in a deep breath, then glanced inside the café and saw Shanna watching him with a worried frown. Something about the genuine concern he read in her expression eased the pain Martha’s call had stirred. It also filled him with guilt. How could he be out enjoying himself with another woman on Georgia’s birthday, of all days?

He walked slowly back inside, not sure what he could or should say about the call that had darkened his mood, provoking an unexpected surge of guilt.

“Is everything okay?” Shanna asked as he slid back into the booth. “That wasn’t about Davy, was it?”

“No, it was Georgia’s mother,” he replied, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “Today would have been Georgia’s twenty-ninth birthday. Martha was upset.”

“Oh, Kevin, I’m so sorry,” she said, covering his hand, her expression instantly sympathetic.

He withdrew his hand. He didn’t deserve her sympathy. “I’d forgotten,” he said bleakly. “Georgia’s only been gone a little over a year, and I’d forgotten about her birthday.”

“How many birthdays did you celebrate together?” she asked.

He blinked at the odd question. “Just two,” he said. “Why?”

“Then is it really so surprising that you forgot? From what little I know, the two of you were together a very short time and living in an intense environment for much of that time. I imagine there are a lot of dates that you never had a chance to commit to memory.”

“Don’t make excuses for me,” he said. “I should have remembered.” He met her gaze. “And I shouldn’t have been here with you.”

She looked dismayed at that. “Kevin, we’re friends. At least I hope we are. Who else should you be with on a day that brings up such sad memories?”

“Family,” he said without hesitation. “Davy.”

“You’ll be going home to both,” she said easily.

“That’s not the point.”

“I doubt you’d be feeling this way if someone other than Georgia’s mother had been the one to remind you about the significance of today’s date.”

He considered that, then nodded. “You’re probably right. Martha doesn’t call often, and I know she doesn’t mean to stir up my guilt, but somehow I always wind up feeling as if I’m in the wrong. She makes me feel as if I’m not grieving the way she and John are.”

Shanna regarded him incredulously. “I didn’t know there were rules about such a thing. Is one way better than another? Are you supposed to shed so many tears for a set number of days? Explain that to me.”

He chuckled at the questions. “Okay, maybe I’m making too much of what she said. It isn’t as if she accused me of not mourning her daughter. Not even close.” He turned serious as he met Shanna’s gaze. “Have you ever felt so guilty about something that it almost paralyzes you?”

For an instant, she looked taken aback by the question, but then she nodded. “More often than you can possibly imagine,” she said quietly.

There was something in her voice, something in the stricken expression in her eyes, that stunned him. In that second, he realized that she did know exactly what he
meant, and yet somehow she had managed to go on. Though he was trying to get on with his life, she had actually done it.

One of these days, when the ground stopped shifting under him from one minute to the next, he’d have to ask her how. And then he’d have to ask what tragedy had forced her to learn that painful lesson.

Megan was about to call it quits and walk out of the Upper East Side art gallery where she’d worked for over fifteen years. Though Phillip had always been a moody and difficult boss, today he was taking his temperamental mood swings to new heights. A shipment of expensive paintings hadn’t shown up earlier and he was acting as if she personally was responsible.

At the conclusion of his tirade, she stood up.

“Where are you going?” he demanded.

“For a walk.”

“You can’t just leave here now. We have a crisis on our hands.”

She leveled a look directly into his eyes. “I am well aware of that, and yelling at me isn’t going to change it. I’ll be back when you’ve had a chance to calm down.”

“I insist that you stay!”

“If I do, and you say one more word blaming any of this on me, when I walk out it will be for good,” she warned. “Is that a risk you’re willing to take?”

For an instant he looked stunned. “You’d quit?”

“In a heartbeat,” she responded, realizing with a sense of shock that it was true. For the first time since she’d come to work here, she no longer felt as if this job was her only option. There was Mick.

Not that she intended to run back to her ex-husband
simply for the sake of security, but Mick would be here for her if she decided she’d had enough of Phillip Margolin and his tantrums. It was a comforting thought.

Phillip gave her a considering look. His heightened color began to fade. “Sorry,” he mumbled, which was a major concession from him. “Go, take that walk. I do know none of this is your fault, but having paintings worth a million dollars or more wandering around somewhere in Manhattan when they’re supposed to be here has made me a little crazy.”

“Totally understandable,” she agreed. “But not my fault.”

He gave her a rueful look. “Again, very, very sorry if I implied that it was.”

“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” she assured him. “And we will find the paintings, Phillip. I’m going to pick up an iced mocha. Can I bring you anything? Something without caffeine, preferably.”

He lifted a brow at that. “A decaf iced cappuccino,” he responded dutifully. “The biggest one they make.”

Megan nodded, grabbed her purse and headed outside. She’d barely walked half a block when she bumped into someone and nearly stumbled. She looked up into Mick’s startled gaze.

“Where’s the fire?” he inquired, steadying her. “And why weren’t you looking where you were going? That’s a good way to get mugged.”

She scowled at his chiding tone. “I’ve lived here for more than fifteen years, Mick O’Brien. I certainly don’t need you to remind me of the dangers of not paying attention to my surroundings,” she said testily.

He held up his hands at once. “Sorry. You’re obviously in a mood of some kind.”

“How condescending of you to phrase it that way,” she snapped.

Worry knit his brow. He clamped a hand on her elbow and guided her straight into the coffee shop on the corner. Since that had been her destination in the first place, she didn’t waste time arguing.

“Sit,” he commanded. “What do you want?”

“A little less bossiness would be nice,” she replied.

“To drink,” he said, clearly fighting to cling to his last shred of patience.

She told him her order and Phillip’s, then sat there and drew in several deep breaths while he went to get the drinks. She needed to calm down. It was crazy to be taking her frustration with her boss out on Mick. And what was he doing here anyway? He hadn’t mentioned coming to New York when they’d talked last night.

He returned with their drinks and sat across from her. Waiting until she’d taken several sips of her coffee, he then regarded her with his most unrelenting gaze.

“Mind telling me what the devil put you in this mood?”

“Phillip’s on a tear. Over a million dollars’ worth of paintings weren’t delivered on schedule, and we can’t seem to track them. I’m sure it’s just some ridiculous snafu with the delivery service, but he’s convinced that we’re the victims of a major art heist and that I know more than I’m telling him.”

Mick regarded her with an expression that ranged from incredulity to outrage. “He’s suggesting you’re involved in some art theft?”

She waved off his indignation. “Not seriously. You’ve met Phillip. You know how dramatic he can be. He’s just upset and I’m there.” She shrugged. “Which is why I’m here, if you can follow my point. I had to take a break or quit.”

“I vote for quitting,” he said at once.

She lifted a brow at the quick response. “And you don’t think you might be trying to take advantage of the situation for your own nefarious purposes?”

“Well, of course I am,” he said without hesitation. He grinned at her. “If it’ll get you back in Chesapeake Shores, I’ll use any weapons at my disposal. You shouldn’t be working for anyone who doesn’t fully appreciate you.”

“I was married to a man exactly like that,” she reminded him.

Mick winced. “Okay, I deserved that, but I’m trying to make amends, aren’t I? Give me a little credit here.”

She reached for his hand. “I do,” she told him. “I give you a lot of credit, in fact. What are you doing here, by the way?”

“I woke up this morning with a need to see your face. Since you were working and couldn’t come to Maryland, I decided to come to you.”