“Right after college, almost fifteen years ago. Even then it was a bustling little tourist destination, but there’ve been a lot of changes, too. Like the new subdivision we live in, and this resort.”
They stopped in front of the sprawling two-story log structure, shoulders almost touching. Petey stopped, too, and sat obediently without even being told.
“I wouldn’t have guessed it was new,” Jonathan said. “It blends into the forest and the beach, as though it’s always been here.”
“It does, doesn’t it? But that wasn’t part of the original plan. The developer wanted to build a second marina, add on a casino. Almost everyone in town was opposed to it, including a handful of lawyers and one Supreme Court judge who retired here. They came to Serenity Bay to get away from all of that. So after a lot of petitions and town meetings and environmental studies, the original plan was scrapped and we now have the Serenity Bay Resort and Spa.”
She couldn’t bring herself to tell him it was the original scheme that had brought her and Jim here in the first place. He had been hired by the developer’s accounting department to handle the company’s finances, and he’d never recovered from the bitterness of that defeat. And because of the animosity around that, Sarah had never really felt as though she fit into the community, either. And she’d hated that because she liked so many of these people, and once she realized what the impact the developer’s original plan would have had on the town, she had silently agreed with them. It wasn’t until Jim died that she’d been able to forge friendships and truly make this her home.
“Do you ever come here?”
“Not often. The dining room is very formal, not at all the sort of place you’d take a family.”
“Expensive, too. I checked it online.”
That was true. “The same goes for the spa. As tempting as it is, it’s not the sort of thing I’ve budgeted the time or money for.”
“You budget your time?” He seemed to think that wasn’t possible.
“I have a routine I like to stick to and...” Oh, what the heck. “Hello, my name’s Sarah and I’m a list-aholic.”
His laugh was deep and genuine. “Hello, Sarah. I’m Jon and I’m a basket case when it comes to being organized.”
He held out his hand and she put hers in it. It was less of a handshake and more of a hand-hold, and then they were having another moment. After several seconds he let her go, and his warmth was replaced by the cool evening air.
“I’m sure you’re not as bad as that.”
“Would you ever pack up a house and move without labeling any of the boxes?” he asked, laughing when he saw her expression.
“You did that?”
“I did. And if you’re thinking it was chaos, then you’d be right.”
“We all play to our strengths.” Casey was already raving about what a great teacher and coach Mr. Marshall was, and Sarah imagined that being an instant hit with the students had a lot to do with his casual, easygoing nature. “I would never have the patience to teach high school or coach a sports team.”
“Thanks. I’ll try to remember that next time I get home from the grocery store and realize I forgot to buy milk and eggs.”
“You don’t even make grocery lists?”
“I jot things on a notepad on the fridge when I notice we’re running out of something. Then when I’m at the store, I try to remember what’s on the list. Does that count?”
Um, no! But he sounded so hopeful. “Of course it does.”
“You’re a terrible liar. Anyone ever tell you that?”
“My mother. I could never pull one over on her.” Petey tugged on the leash. He had abandoned his stick and was ready to go again. “What do you think? Should we carry on to the point or go back?”
“I’m okay to keep going.”
So was she. Adult conversation was good, Jonathan’s light banter was even better, and she felt more relaxed than she had in ages.
“Unless you think it’s too far for the dog,” he added.
“He seems fine for now. And he’s so small, I can always carry him if I have to.”
“Good plan.”
The walk from the resort to the end of the seawall at Outlook Point took them past a handful of luxury beachfront properties, and Sarah knew one of them belonged to Eleanor Bentley and her husband. Directly across the bay was the marina, angled between Shelter Point and the protective arm of the breakwater that kept the bay relatively calm during storm season. Boats of various sizes, mostly pleasure craft, were moored here, and tonight there were also two commercial fishing boats and a floatplane. She’d been locking up the store that afternoon and had heard the low drone of the plane as it swung low over the bay and landed. The passengers were most likely business executives up from Vancouver or Seattle for meetings or a weekend retreat at the resort.