Flirting with Paradise

by Chris Keniston

  "Oh," she mumbled and stepped back, then, eyes down, slid into the seat.

  Buckled in and engine rumbling, he put the car in gear and focused on the way out, not on the woman at his side. A task easier said than done. "Which way?"

  "Left." She studied him as he exited the lot and turned as directed.

  "Now what?"

  "You're not from around here?"

  He shook his head.

  "When you come to the traffic light, turn right. You'll see the school down the road a piece on the left."

  "Got it."

  "So how long have you lived in the area?"

  "I haven't. I just got here." He turned at her silence and was greeted by those beautiful green eyes, big and round with surprise.

  "So they moved you here for this job?"

  "Sort of."

  Her eyes grew even wider, filling with questions.

  "This assignment may not be permanent," he felt obligated to mention.

  "May not?"

  "The Paradise Shores is understaffed, and I was the closest to come help."

  "Oh." Her voice took on a happier tone that spread to her eyes. What was that all about?

  "That anxious to get rid of me?" The idea bothered him more than it should have.

  "Oh, no. Not at all. It's just that …" her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink.

  He liked it. He seemed to like every new thing he learned about this woman. Maybe a little bit too much.

  He waited an extra beat or two for her to finish. "Just what?"

  "Well,” she folded her hands in her lap, her thumbs wrestling each other. “Sandy has been filling in as assistant manager, and we all… we'd hoped she'd get the job permanently."

  That would explain the momentary chill Brad had seen in Sandy's gaze when they'd been introduced. "She seems to be good at her job."

  "Very good. Way better than the idiot before her." Hope pointed to the left with her hand. "There it is. The school."

  Brad turned into the long semicircular drive in the front of the rectangular building. "I'll wait here."

  "Thanks. Be right back."

  As soon as the door of the building had slammed shut behind her, he tapped his phone.

  "Hey, man," John answered. "Is it a yes for dinner?"

  "I don't think so. Do you have a mechanic you can recommend?"

  "Yeah."

  "Good. Text me his info. One of the women working at the hotel has a dead car in the parking lot, and she doesn't have a trustworthy mechanic of her own."

  "Will do."

  "Oh—and, John?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Give the mechanic a heads-up. Tell him to charge some ridiculously low price. I'll cover the difference. I don't think she’s got much money."

  Silence hung briefly between them. "You certain you want to do that?"

  "Yeah. Tell him to check out the car for anything else that might be ready to go and handle that too."

  "Sure you don't want to just buy her a new car?" his friend teased.

  "Don't be a jerk."

  "Hey, women like that sort of thing."

  Maybe some women. The kind both he and John had too often dangled as arm candy. "Not this kind."

  John remained quiet, and Brad didn't like the idea of what his friend was thinking. Probably because it was most likely the same thing he was thinking. What was so special about this woman?

  Chapter Six

  How did this happen? One minute Hope was leaving work to pick up her son from school, like any other day of the week. Her only plans for the evening to stop at the grocery mart, and later soaking in her bathtub before bed.

  Instead she, Jason and Brad were sharing a pizza at her son's favorite dinner spot. And even more surprising, Brad Kane, the man she'd originally pegged as all looks and no substance, had spent most of the time they'd been here oohing and aching over her son's schoolwork.

  "You can have this one if you want." The little boy shoved a sheet of paper from art class overrun with colored squiggles and a gold star affixed to the upper corner.

  Even Hope had no idea what the drawing was supposed to be. Did she even have art class at his age?

  "It's beautiful. I know just where to hang it." Brad held the proffered drawing as though it were a valuable Picasso.

  Across the table, sitting at Hope's side, Jason pushed a sheet with multiplication problems along with another gold star. His teacher was big on stickers to encourage the children to work hard. "You can have this too."

  "Very good." Brad curled his fingers under and extended his hand to Jason for the newly learned fist bump. So far, every time Brad found a reason to congratulate her son with the bumping-of-knuckles gesture, Jason giggled and laughed as though it were the coolest thing since chocolate chip cookies.

  With her son having such a good time, Hope found it easy to sit back and enjoy the pleasantness—and not think about her car, the starter, or how she would afford this new hiccup in her life.

  "Jason!" Bradley, a boy in her son's class, came barreling across the restaurant, waving a white ball in the air. "Look what I got."

  Crossing the room on the little boy's heels, his parents waved at Hope, coming to a halt by the table. "If we'd known you and Jason would be here, we would have skipped the sporting goods store."

  "It was a spur-of-the-moment thing," Hope responded. The parents, whose names she couldn't remember, cast a quick glance from Hope to the two boys in a near frenzy over the new baseball, only to land and remain on Brad. Hope gestured toward him. "This is a new coworker."

  "Nick Harper." The father introduced himself, staring at the man as though he had a speck of spinach between his teeth, then gestured to his wife.

  Looking less quizzical than her husband and juggling a cute little girl with her daddy’s big blue eyes on her hip, the woman smiled at Brad and extended her hand. "Kara."

  On his feet now, Brad shook her hand. "Brad Kane. Nice to meet you."

  "Same here," the man mumbled, shaking his head and turning his attention back to Hope. "The sign-ups for baseball opened today. You'll have to hurry if we want the boys on the same team."

  "Yes, well …" Hope sucked in her lips, debating how to politely back out without coming right out and saying she couldn't afford the registration fee or the accessories Jason would need. Last year it had been much easier to slide by without signing Jason up, but this year his growing friendship with the Harper boy made staying on the sidelines more of a challenge.

  "Can I have a baseball too?” Her son tugging at her right arm and waving the white ball in her face interrupted her search for words. "Can I?"

  "I… uh… We'll see."

  This time Brad's brows knit together at her awkward response.

  "It's getting late," she continued. "We don't want to abuse Mr. Kane's hospitality." Hope looked up at Nick Harper and his wife, not wanting them to misunderstand the situation. "My car wouldn't start after work. Brad was kind enough to play chauffeur for the evening."

  Deep blue eyes narrowed and Nick Harper turned a concerned gaze her way. “I’ve been known to tinker a bit here or there. Maybe I can be of help?”

  Kara slipped her hand into the curve of her husband’s elbow. “If you need a bomb disarmed, he’d be your man.”

  “Uh,” Hope wasn’t sure what to say about that.

  Kara chuckled. “Nick’s former Navy EOD.”

  Even hope knew EOD stood for explosive ordinance disposal.

  “Any good at starters?” Brad’s words came out pleasant enough, but the look he shot Nick didn’t seem quite as receptive.

  Nick’s gaze didn’t seem any more sure of the man he was sizing up than Brad’s had. “You know cars?”

  “Enough to know that if her lights and radio work, it’s not the battery or the alternator.”

  Lips pressed tightly, Nick bobbed his head and raked his fingers through thick dark curls. “Replacing starters is one level above my paygrade.”

  “What about Doug?”
his wife brightened. “That man can fix anything at the shop.”

  Nick hefted one shoulder, keeping his eyes on Brad. “Maybe, but even we send the boats to a real mechanic for engine work.” He seemed to study Brad rather intently and she wasn’t sure what was running through Nick’s head, but she had the feeling more than her car’s future relied on his conclusions.

  “I actually have the name of a highly recommended mechanic,” Brad offered.

  This time Nick glanced at Hope.

  “An affordable one,” Brad added.

  Nick’s gaze darted back to Brad and then she saw it. The decision had been made. Nick Harper leaned into his wife and shifted their daughter onto his shoulders. “Sounds like you’ve got it covered. Let us know if you need anything.”

  “We’d better go order that pizza.” His wife announced to their son.

  "Can't I play a little while with Jason?" The boy nearly whined.

  “It looks like they’re ready to go.” Kara brushed the boy’s curly hair.

  The disappointment in both boys tugged at Hope. "I suppose a few minutes will be fine."

  "Yay." The two boys jumped up and down, Jason waving his friend’s brand-new baseball in the air at the same time Hope opened her purse and dug out her wallet. Fortunately the boys’ two favorite games were some of the least expensive options in the arcade section of the pizza parlor.

  "I've got this." Nick Harper handed his son a ten-dollar bill.

  Much more than what she'd intended to give Jason.

  While Jason's friend took the money and bolted for the arcade section, Jason paused long enough to thank his benefactor before running after the boy with the cash.

  "He's a good boy," Kara Harper smiled. "I'm glad they're friends."

  Hope couldn't say anything over the lump lodged in her throat. A simple acknowledgment of Jason had her proud enough to puff out her chest and strut around the room.

  Brad sat and leaned forward over the table holding out his phone. "Here’s the name and number my friend who lives in the area gave me the name for an excellent and affordable mechanic."

  "Oh, well I suppose I can give him a call, but I’m sure Nina knows—“

  "He's waiting for your call."

  For a few seconds Hope wasn't sure if she should be relieved or annoyed at the help. She'd been taking care of herself and Jason for a long time now and didn't need anyone butting in unasked. Another side of her was awfully glad not to have to do it all alone for once. And the awfully glad side won out over her stubborn—and probably misplaced—pride.

  ***

  “Okay,” Kara leaned into her husband. “What has your feathers in a dither?”

  “I don’t know.” He cast a quick glance over his shoulder at Jason’s mom and her new friend.

  Kara followed his gaze. “He seems nice enough.”

  “Yeah. For just a minute I got a vibe that said something wasn’t right.”

  “But…?”

  “It didn’t last.”

  “Well that’s good. I like her. Not that I know her that well, but she works hard, too hard I think.”

  “It can’t be easy raising a boy alone.”

  Kara knew Nick’s mind was going to Patty Ann and the years she’d had to raise Bradley on her own. “If it makes you feel any better my creep alarm hasn’t gone off.

  “It does,” he smiled down at her.

  “But, if you want, I can think up an excuse to call her tomorrow, maybe a play date or something, make sure everything is all right.”

  “Yeah,” Nick nodded. “I would.”

  ***

  Brad waited impatiently as Hope spoke with the mechanic John had recommended. Every few seconds he shifted his attention to the two boys, delighted with some game across the way. All he could see were the boys slamming a massive rubber bat randomly across a table in front of them.

  Listening to Hope and watching Jason, Brad was torn between staying at the table to make sure everything worked out as he'd planned and checking on the boys to ensure all was well. Though he wasn't sure why he was worried about Jason; ten dollars seemed like more than enough to keep them busy, and, even at thirty-five years old, Brad would have been thrilled to spend many an afternoon whacking away life's irritations. The two kids were probably happier without his interference. Not to mention his friend’s dad was keeping an eagle eye on them from the take out counter.

  "I see.… Thank you. Yes. I'll meet you in one hour." Hope swiped at the phone and handed it back to him. "You're right. Fingers crossed he's as good a mechanic as he seems to be a nice man."

  "Oh?"

  "Since he has his own tow truck, he's offered to bring my car to his shop at no charge. He'll take a look at it first thing in the morning, and, if I'm not happy with his estimate, he'll take the car anywhere I want."

  Relieved, Brad leaned back in his chair. He had no idea why, but, for some reason, it mattered a great deal to him that Hope didn't have to spend the night worrying about her car. That left him wondering what the deal was with baseball. From the look on her face when the other boy's parents spoke of baseball, he got the impression she didn't like the idea of having him play and had no intention of letting Jason join the team. "So the problem with the car is solved."

  She hesitated and nibbled on her lower lip the way she'd done earlier.

  He made a valiant effort not to volunteer to nibble on that luscious lip for her.

  "Could I trouble you to give us a lift back to the hotel instead of my place?"

  "Of course. You said it yourself. I'm your chauffeur for the night."

  With the exceptions of the bright smiles she'd bestowed on her son as he'd shared his schoolwork with them, this was the first time since leaving work that she'd really smiled at Brad, and he liked it. Very much.

  "That will be a huge help."

  "My pleasure." Brad cast a glance in the boys' direction. Still whacking away with massive foam bats. "The Harpers are right. He's a nice boy."

  "Thank you." She beamed again. "Do you have children?"

  He shook his head.

  "Nieces? Nephews?"

  His head turned from side to side again. "'Fraid not. Only child. You?"

  "Just me. And Jason."

  Brad wasn't sure how welcome his next question would be. "What about Jason's father? Where is he?"

  The solemn curtain that drew down over her eyes surprised him. He'd expected an angry ex story but not sorrow.

  "He's gone."

  It took Brad a few seconds to process her choice of words and tone, and suddenly his heart ached for her. "How long?"

  "Over eight years."

  Doing fast math in his head, Brad figured Jason couldn’t be much older than that. "Then Jason was only—"

  "Not even born yet." She shifted her gaze to her son, and Brad could see her spine straighten and her chin rise, drawing from a well of strength somewhere deep inside. "His father never knew about him."

  "Grandparents?"

  She shook her head. "No one."

  God. He might be an only child, but he still had an extended family of cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents. Though, at this stage of his life, he could probably handle what fate threw his way on his own, but that didn't mean he wanted to. "I'm sorry."

  "I don't know why I'm telling you all this. I barely know you."

  "Because I asked?"

  That had her chuckling.

  He much preferred the happy Hope.

  "I'd better get my son. I still have a lot to work through, and we have a strict rule about bedtime."

  Brad rose and circled the small table to reach for the back of her chair. "All rules were meant to be broken once in a while."

  "Thank you." Hope pushed to her feet. "Not bedtime. Growing children need their sleep."

  Brad nodded. He was pretty sure he'd read that somewhere, and, even if he hadn't, it made perfect sense. "So what else do you have to work out?"

  "Nothing for you to lose sleep over." Hope cro
ssed the play area, Brad following her to Jason's side. "Time to go, sweetie."

  "Just a little longer?" Jason swung the massive bat at what Brad could see was a newer version of Whack-A-Mole.

  "Sorry. Tonight we have to meet the man who'll fix Mommy's car tomorrow."

  Tomorrow. Of course. He should have thought this car thing through all the way. "Listen." Brad moved closer. "About tomorrow. What time do you need me to pick you up?"

  Hope whirled around. "That won't be necessary."

  "Do I need to give you my entire no-I-don't-have-to-but-I-want-to lecture again?"

  "No." Her lips curled at the corners. "Thank you."

  He loved it when she smiled.

  "I usually drop Jason off at school at eight o'clock and punch in at the hotel by 8:30. Will 7:45 be good?"

  "Perfect."

  “Okay boys, one last game.” She eased back watching the sheer glee on the boys’ faces.

  He understood exactly what she must be thinking about. Nothing to worry about in life except getting gold stars on papers and smacking a mole with a rubber bat.

  “Yay.” The boys cheered when the game was over. “We won.”

  Brad had no idea who the we was, but they spun around grinning like cartoon cats.

  “Let’s walk Bradley back to his parents.” Hope put a protective hand over each boys’ shoulder. Loose enough to nudge, tight enough to keep them from bolting across the crowded restaurant. He liked that. The world could use a few more mothers like her raising the next generation.

  “Thank Mr. Harper,” Hope encouraged.

  “Thank you.” Jason beamed.

  “Anytime,” Nick Harper replied, pizza carton in hand, and turned to Hope. “Same goes for your mom. If you need anything at all, we’re big on being neighborly.”

  Kara rolled her eyes, “Not that island folk aren’t friendly but we’re both originally from Texas. You know, everything is bigger there. Including nosy but helpful neighbors.”