One Lavender Ribbon

Chapter 9

What are you doing, Pops?” Will reached into the box his grandfather had filled with vegetables. He plucked a tomato and brought it to his mouth. But Pops moved with lightning speed and snagged it from Will.

“Stay out of this box.” Pops turned to face him, to point a finger in Will’s face, and that’s when he saw the spark. There’d been a spark in Pops’s eyes since Adrienne Carter showed up, disrupting their crab shells and their life. “We’ve got more than we can possibly eat, so I am sending these with Adrienne. She loves to cook, you know?”

“She’s coming by this morning?” Uh, had there been a hint of excitement in his tone? Yeah, the way Pops was grinning at him, there must have been. He honestly didn’t know why he cared at all. She had returned his grandfather’s letters, but Pops kept thinking of excuses for her to drop by. First, it was the book about plumbing, then borrowing some tool he’d dug out of the garage. Now she was stopping by for fresh vegetables. His vegetables. Will’s mouth watered. That tomato was perfect. This was madness.

She obviously liked Pops, since he’d yet to hear her turn down an invite, but Will couldn’t help notice that she always came while he was at work, which meant she wanted nothing to do with him. Will was fine with that. But she was coming today. It was Saturday. She had to know he’d be there. Maybe she’d planned it that way.

He imagined her breezing in, interrupting his morning, smelling like wildflowers and maybe tossing some food on the kitchen floor. The thought brought him back to the night they’d spent sitting at the table and laughing with Pops. He caught himself smiling in his reflection in the window, so he turned it into a scowl. She wouldn’t get to him. Not today. He headed out back to the pier. He just wouldn’t be here. He’d stay outside. Problem solved. As he left, he could hear Pops mumbling about Adrienne bringing the bait for their fishing trip. Will cast his eyes toward heaven.

As he headed for the boat, he stopped and admired the hard work he’d put in yesterday. The thirty-two-foot cuddy cabin gleamed in the Florida sun. He’d spent the evening before, brush in hand, scrubbing every inch of her, wiping down the teak wood, cleaning the windows, and polishing the chrome. She looked better than a brand new boat. And no one, not even a nosy, too pretty brunette was going to ruin his day out on the water.

“Now these are delicious in a spinach salad. Here’s kale, mustard greens, collards.” Pops’s hands meandered through the box. “’Course, I grew up calling it a wilted lettuce salad, but Will says that sounds terrible. You know how to make one?”

“Yes,” Adrienne answered. But her mind was elsewhere. She’d spotted Will in the backyard through the kitchen window and had to fight the urge to go outside and watch him. Bare to the waist, with the Florida sun gleaming off his muscles and looking so at ease.

“I always use a little bacon grease for the base of the dressing, but Will tells me that’s bad for my cholesterol.”

“Mm-hmm,” she agreed, leaning to glance out the window again.

“How do you make your dressing?” Pops sniffed a bunch of radishes.

She was aware of words being sent in her direction, but couldn’t quite put them together.

“Adrienne, how do you make your dressing?”

She snapped to attention. “Oh, I start with a little olive oil, add some fresh garlic in a skillet, salt, pepper, a dash of sugar.”

He nodded, and she could see him ticking off the ingredients in his mind. “A little onion?”

“If I’m in the mood. But usually, just dried minced onion. Fresh is too overpowering.”

He shook a finger at her. “Exactly right.”

“I add the vinegar just before applying the dressing to the greens.” She fingered the different lettuce leaves Pops had given her. “This will be a really nice change. I usually only have fresh spinach for my salad.”

“You’ll love this mix, then. And do you serve it with mushrooms and croutons?”

“Always. Oh, and a boiled egg. I make homemade croutons, you know.”

“Really?”

“I got the recipe from a friend not too long ago. I’ll bring you some.”

He noticed her stretch to glance out the back window again. “Will’s getting the boat ready for the day.”

“Uh-huh.”

He watched her. She watched Will. “Sure is going to be nice out there. The water’s smooth, and the cold front brought in a cool breeze.”

“Sounds fabulous.” Sort of. Adrienne was terrified of boats. She’d had a bad experience once, and Eric had made fun of her for it. Boats and her—not simpatico. But the naked-to-the-waist man outside? Now that she could stare at for hours.

She’d only in the last few months been able to look at men without feeling like she was cheating on her husband. Even though they’d separated practically a year ago and her divorce had been final months ago. One thing she could thank Ryan for, she supposed. Ryan, her furniture-moving grad student with the killer smile and smooth confidence. He’d broken through all those barriers of false propriety, even grabbing and kissing her without warning or invitation on occasion. At first she’d frozen at his touch. But then she’d remembered she wasn’t a married woman anymore and she had settled into that first kiss. It was nice. The next one was nice. And the next, and several more after that. Was Will a good kisser? For a horrible second, she thought she might have said that aloud.

She breathed relief when she realized Pops was still up to his elbows in her box of vegetables and still chattering about salad. Her gaze and her mind drifted through the window. Tan skin, rolling muscles, denim shorts cinched around smooth hips. It was hard to breathe.

Pops dislodged himself from the box and leaned forward to pick up the bait bucket Adrienne had brought. “Boy, this thing is heavy.”

And before she knew it, she was slipping it from his grasp and trying not to consider how Will’s mouth would measure up to Ryan’s.

A loose towel in one hand and shirt off, Will wiped the morning dew from the otherwise sparkling boat, the Miss Betty May. He scrubbed back and forth, removing the moisture that had settled on her. Aggravation from the week’s work dissolved with the brush of his hand. Everything about a boat was therapeutic, even bathing it.

He was almost finished when he noticed he wasn’t alone. The wind carried the scent of flowers to him before she spoke a word. He groaned inwardly, reaching for his shirt. He pulled it on and hopped off the boat, his deck shoes grabbing the wooden planks of the pier. “Good morning.”

“It is,” she returned.

She looked . . . guilty and gorgeous. A purple tank top hugged her upper body, emphasizing her curves. Shorts accentuated those amazing legs. Adrienne’s neck glistened with a tiny locket. That neck. The kind he could nuzzle into and not come up for air for hours. It was the curve. Tantalizing, smooth, inviting him to nibble. And there they stood. Wordless, staring at each other. Awkward, but somehow that was okay.

Finally, she blinked. “Um, I brought this down for Pops.” She nodded at the bucket of bait she held.

But he didn’t take it from her. Instead, he regarded her, wondering just how long she’d been standing there watching him wipe off the boat.

She blinked again, innocently, but below the surface, he could see her squirming. A honey-smooth spot on her throat throbbed. She motioned to the bucket that he had yet to take from her.

But taking it might mean an end to her standing there waiting on him. Watching him. She might disappear back up to the house. No, he didn’t really want to rush this. Some of the best things in life were rushed when they shouldn’t be. It was a crime, really. He was pretty sure this was one of those moments. “I hope you haven’t been standing there long with that heavy bucket.” He took his time tucking his shirt into denim shorts. He caught her eyes trail from his chest down to his hand, then quickly snap back up to his face.

“No,” she said a little too quickly.

But he still didn’t take the bucket. “So I didn’t keep you waiting?”

“Oh, no.” She waved a hand. “I just walked down here.”

At that moment, Pops stuck his head out the back door. “Did you fall in, Adrienne? It doesn’t take five minutes to drop off a bucket of bait!”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. So she had been watching him. Something white hot shot into his gut and curled there.

Cheeks stained crimson, she gestured with her free hand toward the canal. “I was just admiring your . . . your boat. It looks beautiful.”

“Thanks.”

When she began to move the bucket to her free hand, he reached for it. “Let me take that.” This put him in close enough proximity to drag her scent into his lungs. He welcomed it.

“Thank you.” She rubbed her palm where red streaks left their mark.

Will dropped the bucket on the deck behind him, bait sloshing. He took her hand in his, drawing her closer. He ran a finger over the lines on her palm. Concern drew his brows together. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was so heavy.” Really chivalrous. But honestly, it wasn’t every day he caught a gorgeous woman checking him out. He’d just wanted to enjoy it a little while. But he’d left her there holding a ten-pound bucket. Nice.

Adrienne mumbled an answer he didn’t quite catch. For a tiny little thing, she was pretty strong. She hadn’t even complained about the bucket. Of course, she was remodeling a house. Couldn’t be a wimp and do that. Still, he’d left her under the strain of his bait. Not the most gentlemanly thing he’d ever done. “Really, I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” she whispered.

A breeze pushed at her back, pressing her closer to him, lifting her hair and forcing the feminine scent deeper into his lungs. Her smell bounded off his skin in waves. Marking him. He wasn’t in any hurry to move away.

Gently, his finger rubbed across the marks on her palm. Odd that he didn’t mind this woman’s scent invading his nose and clothes. Odd that he hadn’t minded her throwing crab claws and meat bits all over his kitchen. “I wouldn’t have had my shirt off, but I didn’t know you would be coming down here. I thought you were just picking up some vegetables.”

“I volunteered to,” she said unapologetically, and some brave little flicker caused her dark eyes to dance.

It was unnerving. In a good way. He concentrated his attention on her palm. Soft, smooth flesh, warm beneath his touch.

“Pops was going to bring them, but I thought I should say hello.”

“Sounds like a chore.” His eyes drifted up to hers. Her irises were espresso colored, but this close and in the bright sunlight, he saw multiple flecks of gold. He’d like to mine that gold, unearth the treasure hidden in her eyes.

“Then let me rephrase it. I wanted to say hello.”

“Hello, back.” Something warm twisted in his stomach. He allowed his fingers to slide up her arm to her shoulder. Once there, he kneaded gently until he felt a tremor run along her flesh. “Did the bucket hurt your arm?”

She shook her head. His finger drifted under the edge of her shoulder strap, scarcely grazing her skin beneath and causing her top to move ever so slightly. It could have been an accident, a mistake. But it wasn’t. He wanted to see the response it elicited.

A puff of hot breath was his answer. A face flushed with pink, a further invitation. Her skin was velvet. “Good.” He pulled in a breath, reluctant to let go. But what could he do? Continue stroking her? No. Will took a difficult and deliberate step back. The scent of flowers and woman stayed.

Oh, this was a disaster. She had seen him from the house, shirt off, scrubbing the boat. She’d only wanted to talk to him, and now, with his face inches from hers, his body smelling of the sea, his emerald eyes staring into hers, she found that she’d lost all her words.

Standing this close to a sweaty sailor shouldn’t make you want to get closer. She had watched his long, lean muscles roll rhythmically as he scrubbed back and forth. So he was tan, lean, and muscled. So what? Lots of guys were. It had actually been his hands that caused the blood to pool in her stomach—even before he’d touched her. Every now and then, he’d take the towel away and with long, slow strokes, slide a hand over the smooth white side of the boat, strong fingers gliding, caressing. Those hands could be lethal to a girl. Those hands could thoroughly wreck her. If, of course, she wanted to be wrecked, which she, Adrienne, didn’t. And if, of course, he wanted to wreck her, which he didn’t.

She’d watched him grab the pail from her sore arm and effortlessly drop it to the deck behind him. Even through his T-shirt, the muscles in his stomach clenched as he lifted, then relaxed. His hand, first on hers, then sliding up her arm, each movement a dizzying dance.

But this wasn’t just about looking at Will’s body, no matter how good, how perfect it was wiping down the boat. She was also interested in being introduced to the Will Bryant that Leo talked about. She really did want to say hello. In fact, if invited, she’d hop right on the boat and spend the day with him. Fear or no fear. She’d go. She’d do it.

As if reading her mind, Will asked, “You want to go along?”

“No, but thank you,” she answered without giving herself a moment to consider it. “But Pops is really excited about going out today.” Adrienne was a master at redirecting the conversation. She’d spent years redirecting it to Eric. After all, the world hadn’t just revolved around Eric. He had been its sun, moon, and stars.

“Pops always thinks he’s going to land a trophy sailfish.”

Will wadded a towel and tossed it onto the deck, then turned back to her. “By the way, I’m really sorry Pops asked you to stop at the bait shop on your way over. I don’t know what he was thinking.” He rubbed a hand through thick, dark hair that was adorably unkempt. Just as she’d suspected it would be without all that hair gel.

“Oh, I volunteered. It was the least I could do. He’s giving me a truck load of vegetables.”

Tan fingers spread wide, and his hands fell to rest on his hips. “Sure you won’t come along?”

“No, I’m not dressed for it.”

His gaze drifted down over her, slowly, lingering on the way. “You’re right. Shorts and a tank top are way too formal attire for boat trips.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Tilting her ankle outward drew attention to her four-inch wedge sandals.

His gaze trailed down to them in a long, slow perusal as if he’d been invited to inspect her legs along the way. Goose bumps spread across her thighs and calves everywhere his gaze touched.

“You could slip those off. It’s pretty customary to go barefoot on a boat.”

“Oh.” Well, that was the last of her excuses. One last plea. “It’s going to be terribly hot.”

“Nonsense.” The words came from behind her as Pops stepped past both of them. “If it isn’t too hot for an eighty-year-old man, it isn’t too hot for you, Miss High-Falootin’ City Girl.”

Will helped his grandfather onto the boat and returned to her, an inviting grin animating his face. “There’s plenty of shade to keep you cool.”

Shade? Not likely. There was no shade from his smoldering looks and heat-radiating body. Her gaze moved between Will and the monster of a boat that rested beside them. “I’ve never been on an ocean boat. I mean, a cruise ship once, but you can’t even feel them moving. Smaller boats are . . . kind of scary. I nearly drowned in a canoe.”

“The water is supposed to be smooth as glass today. We’ll go slow if it makes you feel better.” He stretched his hand out to take hers. “You’re safe with me.”

Safe with him. The words dropped to the ground like lead. She’d never met a man she truly felt safe with, least of all one with eyes able to cut right into her soul, which was kind of how she felt with Will.

When she didn’t answer, he whispered, “I promise.” His tongue darted out to moisten a mouth gone slack.

And for a quick moment, the world stopped.

Behind them, she could hear Pops uttering something about drowning and canoes.

Without realizing it, her hand slid into Will’s. It was the look of utter assurance that brought her enough gumption to actually agree to going. There was certainty in him. And honesty. The warmth of his strong fingers closing around hers urged her into motion, and before she knew what was happening, he was pulling her onto the luxury boat.

Her vegetables and purse sat on the kitchen table. Her car windows were rolled down. Her cell phone left smack in the middle console. But none of that mattered. She was going on an adventure. She and Pops . . . and Will.

Adrienne’s mind went to Sara—Sara who loved to fish. She had new information concerning the woman, but for now, she wouldn’t breathe a word of it. No good could come of it. If Leo was wrong and Sara had died, it would only bring more sorrow to Pops. The thought of causing him pain was unbearable. So, until she knew for sure, Adrienne would keep the secret buried, just as it had been for over sixty years.

She took a seat at the back of the boat. The leather cushion was soft and padded against her flesh. The gloriously rich wood of the deck shone beneath her bare feet: her dark pink toes tried to grip the wood but failed against the velvet smoothness. Smoothness created by Will’s care. She faced the front of the boat, her back straight, her shoulders taught. Pops moved below in the cabin. He’d gone down the stairs and was now humming, but the sound brought her little comfort because the engine rumbled to life, nearly causing her to jump out of her skin. Adrienne reached for something to hold onto.

Will shot her a smile. It faded quickly. “Are you okay?”

She nodded furiously, but could feel the color drain from her face, leaving her bloodless and cold. “No one has ever fallen out, right?”

“No. You really are scared, aren’t you?” His gaze dropped to her white-knuckled hands, gripping the cushion so tightly that the leather puckered. “Would you be more comfortable over here by me?”

“No,” she admitted, considering her previous reaction to him as he’d rubbed the lines in her palm and teased her shoulder. Oh, he’d made her feel things. Comfortable wasn’t one of them.

But Will folded the helm seat down so they could sit side by side. “Come on.” The sun hit his face, and his eyes sparkled like emeralds.

By the time she was seated, he had slipped past her to untie the mooring lines. As soon as he was back beside her at the helm, he studied her face. “You okay now?”

“Better.” Warmth emanated from where his arm touched hers. He took her hands and placed them on a chrome bar in front of her. She felt silly. Like a little girl on her first carousel ride.

He must have sensed her anxiety. “Don’t worry. Everybody hangs on at first.”

Adrienne was pretty certain everyone didn’t. But it was nice of him to say. She liked this Will. Gone was the prickly exterior, and in its place was something endearing. Finally, here was the grandson she would expect William Bryant to have.

Within the first few minutes of rumbling away from the dock, Adrienne wondered what her apprehension had been about. They eased down the cove, homes and foliage disappearing past them as they went, leaves of massive palm trees tilting out over the canal and swaying in the breeze. The boat motor hummed gently, vibrating her feet against the warm wood of the deck. As they approached a curve, Will slowed the engine. He faced her. “We’re going out into the Gulf after this last turn. I’ll have to speed up.”

She nodded, no longer afraid, ready to meet this adventure head on. And stunned at how attentive Will was to her earlier panic. From the moment he’d seen it on her face, it seemed everything had been about making her feel comfortable. Safe. You’re safe with me.

“The waves will be a little rough until we get through the pass, but that’s normal.”

She was in good hands.

When he made the corner, her breath left her. As the thick foliage of the canal disappeared, she gazed out at the expanse of blue that stretched on forever before them. Though she often watched boats slide across the water, not one interrupted her view today. The deep blue spanned in a panorama from east to west, sliced only by a golden horizon. Wind saturated with seawater sprinkled her face. The engine moaned louder as Will put his hand to the throttle, moving them beyond the barrier.

Adrienne couldn’t speak.

Will smiled over at her. “Cool, huh?”

“It’s breathtaking.” She squinted into the sun on the water and wished she’d grabbed her sunglasses. “I see this every day from my back deck, but it looks completely different from out here.”

They crashed through the waves, and Adrienne worked to find her sea legs. Will and Pops made it look so easy. She gathered enough bravery to move around the deck, but preferred her spot by the captain.

“So we’re going fishing.” She looked down at the bucket of bait.

He nodded over at her, his tongue moistening his lips. “Uh-huh.”

Whew, it was hot. Adrienne was glad for the tank top. She’d almost put on a shirt with short sleeves. Now she was thankful she’d opted for the tank. Will seemed to appreciate it too. “Do we just stop anywhere?”

“No, we have a destination.”

“How do you know where to go? I mean, you can’t exactly stop for directions.”

“Men don’t stop for directions anyway.” He winked and pointed to a screen in front of them on a dashboard of levers, gauges, and buttons. It looked like a mini computer screen tucked between a compass and the throttle. “This shows us the way.”

“That little screen tells us where to go?”

He nodded.

“Wow, too bad you can’t fasten those onto people. There would be a lot less heartache and a lot more direction.” If she’d had one of those little gadgets she’d have never married Eric.

“I think they only work on water.” He pushed a button and the screen made a blip, blip, blip sound. “Besides, we’re all already equipped with one.”

She frowned. “Mine must be broken.” Seeing as how she was a twenty-eight-year-old with not even an inkling of what she was going to do with her life . . . broken compass seemed possible.

“Nah, sometimes it shows us a really clear picture of where we’re headed.” He pointed to the now garbled screen. “But sometimes it’s fuzzy.”

“What do you do when it gets fuzzy?” Her screen had been muddled for a long time.

“You stay the course.” His eyes left the screen and found her. “In time, everything comes into view, and the course we’re meant to steer crystallizes before us.”

It wasn’t that simple. Maybe one day she would have a picture of the future. But it seemed far away. She’d spent so many years making sure Eric had what he wanted, got what he wanted, went where he wanted . . . well, she didn’t even know what things she liked anymore. It had all been about him. She’d grown up thinking that’s how marriage was supposed to be. That’s what her mother had done. That’s what all the women in her family did. Unlike Eric, Adrienne’s father never took advantage of the kindness. Adrienne supposed she’d done it all wrong, creating a monster rather than a loving partner. But she wouldn’t dwell on that. Each morning she reminded herself that life was a gift, something she’d learned from Pops. Each day was a present to be opened and relished. So today she’d cherish the gift. And do the only other reasonable thing.

Stay the course. Until the screen cleared.

“Can I take you to dinner?” Will’s voice cracked. Like the words he’d just spoken surprised him as much as they did her.

Her eyes went to his. “Uh . . . ”

“It’s just dinner.”

Like that made it less intimidating. She needed to answer: No. The answer would be no as soon as she found her voice. “Yes,” she said, and that surprised her too. Well, if the screen had cleared at all, this had just succeeded in scrambling the message.

“Where are you taking her?”

Will turned to the doorway where Pops leaned against the wall. The last thing in the world Will needed right now was the third degree from his grandfather. “I made reservations at Palermo’s.”

“Oh, on the water. She likes the water. And I hear Palermo’s is first rate.” Pops had caught him in his room, staring into the full-length mirror. “I’m glad you took off the tie. Makes you look snooty.”

Will flipped the tie over the hanger and headed for his closet.

“Here, I’ll take it,” Pops said. When he didn’t return, Will dragged a deep breath into his lungs, trying to calm his ragged nerves. He’d been on dates before. Plenty. He was thirty. He’d done his share of dating. But Adrienne was . . .

“What about this shirt?” Pops stood in the closet doorway holding a polo that had seen better days.

“Kind of ratty.” Will’s heart rate sped up. Was he actually this inept at dressing himself for dinner?

“But Adrienne likes blue.”

Heat rose to Will’s forehead. “I think a jacket is required.”

Pops tilted his head. “It’s not a stuffy place is it? Adrienne’s a free spirit. She’s like the wind, and stuffy places don’t appreciate wind.”

This really wasn’t helping. He’d thought this through, whether Pops knew it or not. Palermo’s because they would pamper her and because it had an amazing view of the pier. After dinner they could walk out and see if the night fisherman were catching anything. Perfect remedy for a stuffy dining room. Plus, he wanted Adrienne to be pampered. He wasn’t sure why, but he did. Adrienne with her movie-star smile and stained fingers. Adrienne with the giant eyes and all that sadness lurking in the depths of them. “Maybe you need to be going out with her, and I can stay home.”

An aged hand curled, one crooked finger pointing at him. “Now that’s just silly. Don’t get smart with me, young man. You’re not too big for me to put you over my knee.”

Will chuckled. “I think I am.”

Fists to his hips, Pops stared him down, the blue shirt dangling at his side. “Shall I prove it?”

Will’s hands flew up in surrender. “No, sir. I know when I’m outmanned.” Most things, Will could handle—the three-hundred horsepower luxury boat, the down-and-dirty negotiations of a million-dollar loan app—but when it came to Pops, and a certain hot little brunette, Will felt outmanned. Maybe outmanned wasn’t the right term where Adrienne was concerned. He certainly felt matched. And that was as intriguing as it was sexy.

The smile appeared, then fell from Pops’s face. “Did you wash your car? You should never pick up a lady for a date in a dirty car. It’s disrespectful.”

“Yeah, I drove it through Rub-a-Dub two hours ago.”

Pops nodded approvingly. “Got some ideas for conversation? Be sure to ask about her. Ladies make connections face to face.”

Will bit back a grin. His grandfather was actually coaching him on dating. “And how do men make connections, Pops?”

He looked up at him as if surprised by the question. “Shoulder to shoulder, Will. Side by side.”

Will thought of Pops and the men he was probably shoulder to shoulder with during his time in the war. He quickly brushed that image from his head. “So, do I look all right? I’ll try not to ruin the Bryant men’s swagger.”

A wrinkled face scrunched. “Swagger? You just be a gentleman. Don’t forget to open the car door and walk her to her door when you drop her off.”

“Got it.”

The look on Pops’s face turned serious. “Adrienne’s special, Will.” It wasn’t so much a comment as an invitation to agree. He wasn’t telling Will anything he didn’t already know.

“Yeah. I think she was pretty torn up by that divorce.”

“Protect her heart. That’s what gentlemen do.” Pops’s hands brushed Will’s shoulders as if dusting him off or maybe smoothing wrinkles from his freshly pressed shirt. Will couldn’t help but feel there was more to it than that. Maybe he’d spent too long in the sun today, but Pops’s action felt almost like a mantle being placed upon his shoulders.

Slowly, his grandfather turned and headed for the door. “Have a nice time. I won’t wait up for you.” He darted a glance over his shoulder and winked.

“Are you sure this isn’t too much?” Adrienne angled in the antique mirror, looking at her backside and wondering if the dress was just a little too snug.

Sammie turned her by her shoulders. “You look amazing. Really. You’ll have him eating out of your hand.”

Adrienne pursed her mouth and stuck her stained fingers in Sammie’s face. Sammie’s eyes widened. “They aren’t so bad.”

“That was the worst lie I’ve heard from your mouth.”

Sammie turned her to face the mirror. “No one will be looking at your hands.”

The white dress was trimmed with tiny silver rope that hung from one shoulder and tucked into the fitted waist. The hem, about two inches above her knee, also sported the silver thread. It was a fairy-tale dress. White and whimsical and almost as tight as a second skin. And scary, she realized. This was a grown-up dress and she was going on a grown-up date. With Ryan, they’d usually just grabbed a burger—both of them in jeans and T-shirts. This was different. Like her first step back into the magical kingdom of dating. Adrienne’s hand dropped to her stomach. “I think I’m going to throw up.”

“Ooooo, let’s see the shoes.” Sammie—ignoring her plight—grabbed the shoe box from the bed.

In spite of herself, Adrienne got a little bit excited about the shoes. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I bought them the other day. They’re totally impractical.” Impracticality was a constant in her world in Chicago. Too-tall shoes, too-expensive handbags. It all seemed so ridiculous now. She could buy a brand new toilet for the price of one handbag. Maybe a sink and faucet to go with it. When she realized the comparison she’d just made, the nausea returned in full force, and the excitement waned. Until Sammie plucked the jewels from the velvet-lined box.

“Oh, these are gorgeous.” She held the sparkly sandals to the light, where a rainbow of sparks danced in each rhinestone. “Nice call, Chicago. Are you going to talk to Will about Sara and what you’ve learned?”

“No. I don’t know enough yet, and he always seems pretty testy about his grandfather. I think he thinks I’m too nosy already.”

“Well, whatever you decide, in these stilettos he’d forgive anything.”

Adrienne rolled her eyes. “They’re completely impractical, right?”

Sammie nodded, earrings tinkling. “Right. Which is what makes them so awesome. Have fun tonight with Prince Charming.”

Adrienne slipped her feet into the tall sandals and paused to look at Sammie. “Oh, he’s not all that charming.”

“Well, have fun with Prince Mediocre, then.”

“He’s definitely not mediocre.” She moved to the armoire and searched for her white evening bag. “He’s . . . well, I don’t really know what he is, but he’s all it.” She checked herself in the mirror once more.

Sammie moved behind her and placed her hands on her upper arms. “It’s just a date, Chicago. An important step in your return to singleness, where people go out with one another.”

Adrienne looked at her through the mahogany-trimmed antique mirror. “Normal, right?”

“You told me yourself it was different with Ryan. More like going out with a friend. This is a real date. With Prince Normal. Have fun. Have a normal, mediocre, charming night. Whatever. But go. And don’t be so worried about it.”

Adrienne soothed her hands over her hips, the soft cotton material of her dress cool against her palms. “I would feel better if Pops were going with us.”

Sammie’s eyes widened and she squeezed Adrienne’s shoulders. “Yeah, you know what? That sounds crazy. Don’t say that again.”

The tinkle of their laughter filled the room as Sammie took Adrienne by the hand and dragged her toward her fate.

Will knocked on her front door. He pulled in a breath through his nose and let it escape slowly from his lips, the sound of his own breath calming him. He needed calm right now. His heart rate had slowed to a normal whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—until she opened the door.

The remaining air in his lungs left in one quick burst. His mouth dropped open, and mercy—if someone had held white-hot pokers to his eyes and told him not to look down, he still couldn’t have stopped his gaze from traveling over her. White dress. Tiny waist. Legs, legs, legs. And sandals cradling her delicate feet. Had someone just punched him in the chest?

She clutched a small purse in front of her, and her fingers fidgeted with the clasp. Some gentleman he was; he couldn’t even form two words.

A second later, Adrienne spun from the doorway, mumbling something about changing.

One brain cell kicked in, and he snagged her by the arm. “Don’t you dare.”

She pivoted on those high stiletto heels and gave him a sheepish look. “I told Sammie it would be too much. Just a stupid cocktail dress Eric chose for me. I feel totally . . . ”

He needed to shut her up. She looked too amazing to be self-conscious. He should kiss her. Without being able to stop himself, his other hand found its way to her opposite arm, and there he stood, staring into those beautiful coffee eyes. Those gorgeous eyes. “Adrienne,” he said, little more than a whisper.

This stopped her. Confusion flickered in her gaze. But the self-consciousness was gone. Completely gone, and knowing that he’d chased it away with one word was a heady feeling. He moved closer, making the space between them almost disappear. “You look incredible.”

She let out a relieved sigh that rushed into his face and caused him to breathe her in. She smelled like life and anticipation and excitement. All of it spun together and surged into his being, curling in the deepest part of his gut.

A smile appeared on her face. “Thank you.”

Sad eyes. His mind and his desire fought. He wanted to kiss her. Right now. Needed to. But all she’d been through . . . Pops’s words echoed back to him. Be a gentleman. Will made tiny circles on her arms and noted the goose bumps as they appeared across her skin. She wasn’t making this any easier—reacting to his every word, his every touch. He released a long surrendering sigh that came from deep in his throat. “We should go.”

She blinked, eyes lined with charcoal and magic. “Yes.”

Neither moved.

He needed to say more, something else, or he was going to . . . “Are you hungry?”

Her gaze left his and drifted down to the floor, thick lashes creating half moons over her eyes. On the quietest breath, she whispered, “Starved.”

Will’s throat closed because he knew her words referred to more than just food. It was a heart plea. Anger over her ex-husband’s foolishness erupted. How could anyone hurt an amazing woman like this? What had that guy done to her for her to still be this broken? But he knew. In one fateful word—when she’d sat at his house, eating with Pops—she’d uttered all that haunted her. Unfaithful. Ultimate betrayal, as far as he was concerned. A woman like this should never suffer that. No one should.

Protect her heart. He could manage that. He hoped.

Every head in the restaurant turned when Adrienne entered the room. She didn’t seem to notice. Maybe it made her uncomfortable, so she just ignored the stares. Whatever, it didn’t matter to him. It was difficult not to puff up his man chest like a rooster. She was easily the most beautiful thing in town.

He’d asked for the table in the corner overlooking the water and the pier, where the evening’s parade of fishermen and their pull-along coolers worked their way to their favorite spots on the wooden structure. The restaurant was lit with soft cascading chandeliers and candles that caused ribbons of flaming light to flicker about the space. The sound and scent of the ocean drifted up to them as they perused the menu.

They did the customary chit-chat before ordering. But Will wasn’t one for a lot of surface conversation, so he dove right in. “Tell me about your marriage.”

Adrienne nearly choked on her ice water.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that . . . ” How could he explain? “You still seem so sad about it. But I know you told us he wasn’t really a nice guy.”

Adrienne dabbed her napkin to her mouth. “I seem sad?”

Yes, and the biggest part of me wants to drag you into my arms and kiss it away. Will reined in his thoughts and cleared his throat. “It’s in your eyes.”

She looked away and focused on the water beside them. Moonlight flashed and disappeared in a dance with slow-moving, puffy clouds.

“That was an inappropriate question, wasn’t it? I’m not great with women.” Like she didn’t already know that.

“You look like the type that’s very smooth with women.”

He chuckled. “Looks can be deceiving.”

She narrowed her gaze on him. “So can eyes.”

“So I misread you?” Will dropped his napkin to his lap. A whisper of a breeze flickered the light on the table as if the wind were changing course.

“Not entirely. I’m very sad my marriage didn’t work. But I’m very happy to be out of it. It was wrong from the beginning. I kept making excuses for the narcissistic man I chose. Finally, the excuses ran out, and I had to take a hard look at who he really was.”

Will leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “The excuses ran out?” He wanted to keep her talking, there was something intimate about knowing she’d share it with him.

“He was having an affair, and I tried to deny it for a while. Then I confronted him. He told me I was crazy. So I followed him one night.”

“Ouch.”

One shoulder tipped up. “I knew what I would find. Do you know he actually had the nerve to write his dates on our home calendar in our kitchen? Lunch with Jilly.”

Will tried to swallow, but his throat was thick, his heart starting the familiar thrashing of anger toward this destructive man.

“I mean, that’s not even a grown-up name. Jilly. Dinner with Jilly to discuss new hospital wing. Drinks with Jilly. Like I was too stupid to figure it out.”

“Was there anyone you could talk to?”

“My folks in Missouri, but my mom just didn’t get it. She thought I should stick it out. ‘Be tough, Adrienne, when the smoke clears, you’ll be the one he wants to stay with.’ Like I’d want him after that.” She shook her head, and a cloud of mink hair fluttered around her.

“What about friends in Chicago?”

“All my friends were through Eric. Doctors’ wives, society types. They’d have to pick sides and it would put them at odds with their husbands. It wasn’t worth it to them or me. I really wasn’t close to anyone. Eric was my full-time job.” Her gaze drifted out to the water where pillow-soft whitecaps rolled toward the beach. “And even that wasn’t enough for him.”

“How could anyone cheat on you?” Will hadn’t intended to say those words out loud, but there they were, big and bold. He wanted to come around the table and pull Adrienne into his arms. She looked so lonely over there behind the candlelight. There was a seat right beside her. He started to move but stopped. What had Pops told him? Women connect face to face.

Adrienne must have noticed his change in posture. “What?”

“Nothing.” He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hands over the thighs of his pants, a nervous habit.

She pointed at him. “You were going to move, go somewhere.” Her fingers ran along the edge of her hair. “Don’t worry. I won’t think I scared you off. You asked about Eric.”

Will worked the muscle in his jaw. “I, uh, wanted to come over and sit by you. But I decided not to.”

Her dark eyes went inquisitive. “Why?”

“I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

“Oh.” The candle danced between them, showering spikes of light onto the surroundings and playing in the gold flecks of her eyes. “I think I’d like for you to sit beside me.”

Something about her throaty words wrapped around Will’s chest and squeezed. For a quick instant he thought about throwing his glass of ice water into his face, just to keep things in perspective. Instead, he stood, moved around the table, and sat by her. Adrienne nuzzled close enough for their arms to touch. And there they sat looking out over the water and neither talking about marriage or divorce.

This was nice. He was nice. The air was nice, the breeze skirting from the water and caressing her skin. All very nice. In fact, Adrienne couldn’t remember having a nicer time on a date.

Well, isn’t that nice.

Except it wasn’t. It was terrifying on a cellular level. If she continued to enjoy herself, some chemical reaction would take place, causing every atom inside her body to split. The fact that she was this freaked out about a date was as alarming as the possible blast. What on earth was wrong with her?

“Are you cold?” Will asked, pressing his arm to hers. They’d finished a lovely three-course dinner and now sat quietly as the night water rolled beside them, its soothing sound all but lost in the atmosphere where a string quartet wafted to them from farther in the restaurant.

“I’m comfortable.” She smiled. She’d done a lot of that tonight. Smiling at his stories about Pops, his confessions about having an insatiable sweet tooth, everything.

“Would you like to walk out on the pier?”

Rushing for the first time that evening, Adrienne dabbed her mouth a final time, folded her napkin, and was on her feet before she answered.

Will chuckled. “Whoa.” But he followed her lead. “Either I’m a really boring date and you can’t wait to get out of here, or—”

But her gaze was fastened on the long wooden pier ahead of them that jutted out into the deep abyss. “Do you think they’re catching anything? It’s hard to tell from so far away. What kind of fish did I catch when we were on the boat?”

“Snook.”

“Right. I read somewhere you can catch shark at night. Shark. Have you caught a shark before, Will? Has Pops? What’s that like?”

“Slow down. I’m only one person. I can answer all your questions, but you’ve got to take a breath so I can catch up.”

Adrienne stopped dead at the edge where salt-worn planks met the concrete of the restaurant’s patio.

“What’s wrong?”

She stared down at the boards and chewed her bottom lip.

“What is it, Adrienne—?” But then he saw. She tilted her foot, revealing the dangerous spike of her stiletto heel. He took in the multiple cracks along the pier and understood. “Ah. Tripping hazard.”

He disappeared in a forward bow. She drew a sharp breath when his hand closed around her ankle and tugged ever so gently.

“Here, let me take them.” And out her foot slipped from the first sandal, causing her view of the world to rise four inches above where it had been. The same warm hand closed over her other ankle and slipped her foot from its tall prison. “Better?”

Words formed but didn’t escape her mouth.

Instead of letting go of her ankle, his hand closed a bit more. “What’s this?” His finger grazed over the band-aid on her heel.

The sensation sent dizzying spikes up her leg. “Just a . . . ” Really, she couldn’t think with his fingers stroking her like that. “I caught my foot on a nail the other day.”

He tilted up and studied her, a little frown creasing his forehead. “A rusty nail?”

“I’ve had a tetanus shot,” she assured him, then rolled her eyes at herself. She really knew how to take an intimate moment and spoil it.

From the indentations that appeared on his cheeks, she had to assume Will was biting back a smile. “That’s good. Glad you’ve had your shots. Does it hurt?”

“No.” She reached for the shoes.

“Nah, I got them.” And he slipped his hand through the straps, then tucked his fingers in his front pocket, letting the sparkly sandals dangle at his wrist.

Adrienne didn’t know whether to be embarrassed or touched. She opted for embarrassingly touched as he held out his other arm for her to take. They strolled toward the end of the pier, where the sea crashed against the pilings and sprayed the deck with fine salty mist.

“Tell me about the canoe.” Will didn’t offer much transition from one subject to the next. They were either quietly comfortable, or he was diving in face first. The honesty and lack of scheming was something she’d have to get used to. With Eric, everything from his mouth had had an ulterior motive, and she’d had to choose her words carefully, sure she’d have to eat them at some distant date.

“It was a canoe trip set up by a hospital where he’d applied for residency. They were taking all their—as Eric liked to say—all the people that mattered”—Adrienne made air quotes and rolled her eyes—“on this get-in-touch-with-nature excursion.”

She paused at the end of the pier and rested her elbows on the worn railing. “Eric, of course, weaseled his way in, even though they hadn’t accepted his residency. He’d schmoozed the chief of surgery with expensive dinners we couldn’t afford and secured us a spot on the canoe trip.”

Will came to rest beside her and used his index finger to trace one of the grooves in the rail—just like she’d seen him do on the porch swing. Adrienne smiled.

“To make a long story short, our canoe tipped in the freezing cold water. We were both hung up on a massive tree branch, most of our bodies submerged in the water, and someone from another canoe tossed a life raft to us and was yelling at Eric to secure it to the branch so they could get to us. They yelled for me to start getting in the raft first while Eric steadied me. But he climbed in the raft first, and when it started to tip, he yelled for me to keep hanging on to the branch and the others would come get me. Later he said it was an accident, that I’d slipped from him, but everyone knew the truth.”

Her hands flattened on the railing and closed, a firm reminder that she was on level ground. But to her surprise, Will slipped his fingers beneath hers, having to wiggle a bit to get below her grip. His touch was steady. Soothing.

“Water was rushing around my head. I wasn’t under it, but the force was intense, and I felt like I was breathing more water with every breath. My feet could barely touch the rocks at the bottom of the river. Each time I thought I might be able to stand and get myself unhooked, the rocks rolled away in the fierce water.”

“No wonder you were so scared on the boat.” His hand rolled beneath hers, naturally threading their fingers together. Is that why he’d slid his hand under hers rather than on top? Or maybe he wanted her to know that all men weren’t like her ex-husband. Some wouldn’t let you go. Some you could hold and they wouldn’t push you away.

“Well, everyone saw his act of bravery. The chief of surgery scolded him in front of the entire staff. Actually used him as an example of who they don’t want at their facility. Eric blamed me.”

“There had to be a bit of satisfaction for you. He got what he deserved. Showing his true colors in front of the very people he tried to impress.”

Adrienne shook her head. “I suppose there should have been. Vindication and all. But it just made me sad. Once again I was reminded that the man I chose couldn’t protect me. Wouldn’t.”

Off to the right, commotion drew her attention. The zing of a fishing pole and the murmurs of onlookers around an old fisherman erased Adrienne’s train of thought. The man wrestled with whatever bent the pole nearly in two. Excitement crackled down the pier, drawing more attention. Soon, a crowd had gathered as the man tipped the pole up and back as he worked to get the prize out of the water.

A flash of white broke the surface and Adrienne squealed. It was big. The word shark was whispered through the crowd of onlookers, and people made way while a few stepped in to help land the beast. Adrienne’s hand ached, and she looked down and realized Will’s fingers had turned bone white. She released her squeeze on him and tried to keep her grip slack. But when the shark came up over the railing and onto the deck, her fingers clenched in a death grip again.

“How big is he?” she whispered reverently.

“Probably four feet.”

“What will the guy do with him? Is it safe for him to be up here with all these people?”

“It’s not safe for the shark. He’s dinner.”

Adrienne stared at the meaty gray beast with the wide mouth. “Are they good eating?”

Good eatin’ was a term she’d heard from fishermen since moving to the Gulf. But she still had trouble dropping the “g”. Will smiled down at her. “Yep. They’re good eatin’. Especially for kids.”

Her attention snapped from the gray beast to Will. “Why for kids?”

“No bones. You know, people always worry about giving fish to kids because of the bones. Sharks don’t have any. No choking hazard.”

For a long time she watched his face. Somehow the excitement of a moment ago melted like the spray of saltwater dissolving into the pier. Adrienne considered Will as a father, taking his son or daughter out on the boat. Teaching him or her about what fish are good eatin’ and which ones should be thrown back. She could see him in that job. Daddy. It fit.

And that—that right there—was where she backed off. Emotionally, but also physically. Adrienne took a step backward, bare feet shuffling on the smooth, moist wood.

Will quirked a frown. “You okay?”

“Yes,” she lied. “Just getting tired. You know, Cinderella and the stroke of midnight.”

With her sandals still dangling on his wrist and a hint of understanding in his eyes, he said, “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

They rode to her house in silence, with just the purr of the car engine to keep them company. It wasn’t a strange or forced silence, but an easy one, even though Adrienne had nearly ruined a nice evening by thinking about things she shouldn’t. Like how a man she barely knew would fit into the role of daddy to tanned, dark-headed children with sparkling green eyes.

Will walked with her up the steps and onto her porch, where she used an ancient key to unlock her door. “You like going barefoot, don’t you?”

She frowned. “Huh?” Then she noticed her sandals dangling from his outstretched finger. “Oh.”

When she moved to take them, he drew them out of her reach.

Adrienne’s head tilted. “We’re a bit too old for games, Mr. Bryant.”

His green eyes darkened in the soft pool of light from a porch sconce. “And a bit too young to be too serious.” He slid the shoes behind his back, where she’d have to nearly bear-hug him to reach them.

She bit into her lower lip, hiding a smile. Her chin rose, nose tilting into the air. “For your information, I do like to go barefoot.”

“What else?”

He moved a millimeter closer, but the nearness seemed much more monumental than a tiny gesture. He literally absorbed the air around her.

She needed to step back but instead stood firm. “I don’t know what you mean.”

His mouth tipped dangerously close to hers. “What else do you like, Adrienne?” The words were a low rumble against her skin, sending sparks from her chest down into the deepest part of her stomach.

And in that white-hot flash, everything she wanted from a man, from a partner, rushed through her system and scorched her from the inside out. “I . . . I . . . ” She’d never been asked that. Never even felt comfortable wondering about that. Pressure from within pushed her backward until she rested firmly against the front door. She felt leveled, naked, but also unashamed to find that she did indeed have an answer to the question.

Adrienne blinked, mind searching for the truth hidden in his words. She had a right to want. She had a right to need. Her eyes found Will’s. But something had changed, shifted there in his gaze. Gone was the desire from his eyes, replaced by a solemn look of protection.

He set her shoes on the nearby railing, ran a hand through his dark hair, and pulled in a breath. For a long few seconds, he stared at her, a soft—and if she wasn’t mistaking—apologetic smile forming on that delicious mouth of his. But he was also creating distance, much-needed distance if she read him right. Will squared his shoulders and moved toward her. Warm hands closed on her upper arms and his face tilted down until their cheeks met. There, he pressed his face against hers and whispered, “Goodnight, Cinderella.” The tiniest peck of a kiss brushed her ear. Will stepped away, leaving her dizzy and glad she was leaning on a solid mahogany door. Whatever that was, whatever had passed between them, was gone. She should be thankful he was such a gentleman. But a tiny part of her wished he hadn’t been.