“No,” she said, even though everything inside screamed yes. She hadn’t made a lot of friends since she moved to Deep Haven a month ago. Grace Christiansen, yes, but only because they worked at the same pizza parlor.
“Aw, c’mon. I’m harmless.” There went the smile again, and she didn’t believe him for a millisecond.
“Grace mentioned that she hoped you’d be coming back to town. Said you used to play hockey for the St. Paul Blue Ox?”
His smile dimmed a little, and she vowed not to mention it again. He took a drink, then lifted a shoulder as if shrugging away memories. “I’m a firefighter now with the Jude County Hotshots out of Montana.”
A hotshot. Yep, that seemed right.
“How’d you end up working for Grace?”
“I answered her ad in the employee lounge at Pierre’s for catering help.” She glanced Grace’s direction, up the shore to where she’d bolted after her family presented her with their generous gift. “I don’t know her that well, but why is she so upset? If I’d been given a trip to Hawaii, I don’t think I would have freaked out and run away.”
“Yeah, well, Grace hasn’t left Deep Haven alone since . . . hmm. Probably since she went to summer camp when she was a kid. She’s a homebody. But she wants to be a chef, so we thought it might be a nice gift. Or they did. No one asked me.” He said it without emotion, just fact. “So you’re a caterer?”
“Uh . . . actually, I never really worked as a caterer before, but it just seemed like one of those things I could do. I was raised without a mom, had to cook for my brother . . .” Oh, wait. Too much information. See, she did that. Wanted people—Owen—to like her, so her mouth started spilling, babbling even.
She took another sip of root beer. “Your sister is the brains behind the operation, but I helped her plan and shop, and we worked together. I’m hoping she’ll hire me again.” In fact, by the time tonight rolled around, Raina had felt like they’d formed a kinship, that they had become partners. She felt at least a tad responsible for this night of romance they’d created.
“Darek and Ivy look so happy.” She’d stood for a long time watching the couple as they danced. She wondered what that would feel like—to have a man look at her like that. Delight in his eyes, the future in his smile.
Owen picked at the label of his beer. “Yeah. He got lucky—twice, actually. This is his second marriage. His first wife died, left him with Tiger.” He looked up, staring across the lake. “Most people don’t get second chances like that.”
The words settled over the water, washed to shore in the waves. Nope, most people didn’t.
She stared at the sky, at the full moon like a spotlight on the water, nearly skimming her toes.
“Want a ride on my motorcycle?”
Raina nodded and he took her hand.
He tooled her around town a bit, then out of Deep Haven, toward Paradise Beach. He’d taken off his eye patch, and she didn’t comment about the scars around his eye.
He pulled up, then parked the bike. But before she could get off, he swung a leg over and met her eyes. Something in them stole her breath—a hunger, maybe, or a longing. Then he slid his hand behind her neck and kissed her.
She’d been kissed—and more—before, but this time felt different. Like this was the kind of guy she could relax around, be herself with. Not like the guys she’d grown up with, where she had to watch her back. Maybe Grace’s brother was different. Trustworthy.
The kind of guy a gal could start over with.
When Owen took her in his arms, it felt like that. A new beginning with someone . . . someone who could truly love her, maybe.
She kissed him back, more heartily than she should have, but it soon became the right thing as the stars fell from the sky. He drove her back to Liza’s, and that was when she started to make mistakes, especially when he leaned her up against the porch and kissed her again, more ardor in his touch than she had anticipated.
He tasted good, like hot summer nights. And freedom. And happiness.
So Raina invited him in.
She knew better, of course. After all, her aunt Liza slept right upstairs. But she tiptoed inside, opened her bedroom door, and told Owen to slip in before her.
And then she’d fought the guilt, losing herself in his arms.
Now the sun peeked through the slats in the shutters as she lay quietly, listening. Listening to him breathe . . . or . . .
She turned her head. His side of the bed was mussed. Empty.
Then she heard the shower running. Oh. He hadn’t left.
She let that thought sink into her as she pulled the covers up to her head. He hadn’t left. Which meant that maybe he’d stick around today. Maybe he’d take her for another ride on that motorcycle.