“Be right with you,” she heard the older man say, followed by the sound of terrible coughing.
She waited, but the coughing continued. Deep, throat-tearing noises that sounded really unhealthy.
Finally, he emerged, with a white napkin, wiping his mouth. His eyes were watery and slightly bloodshot. Somehow, he looked older than he had before. “Oh, hi, Sarah…”
He looked surprised to see her. “Hi, Mr. Harrison. You okay?”
He waved a hand, tucking the napkin into his pocket. “Fine. Just a little lung cancer is all.”
Her mouth dropped. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were sick.”
“Not sick. Dying. Finally,” he said with a grin.
“I’m so sorry to hear that…” Despite his casualness, her knees felt slightly wobbly as she gripped the edge of the counter. He was sick. He was dying.
“Sweet girl, when you get to be my age, it’s almost a relief to know your days are numbered. I’ve lived through wars, depressions, technology changes, and teenagers wearing their jeans around their knees. I was starting to think nothing could take me out.”
Sarah gave a small smile. At least he was in good spirits, and the man was in his nineties…and alone. In a sad way, she could appreciate his acceptance of the end of his days.
“You were in the military?” She knew he was, but she wasn’t ready to admit just how much she knew. Yet. Not in a rush to leave, and thinking he might like the company, she pulled up a stool at the counter and sat.
“Enlisted at eighteen. I’d always been fascinated by planes and bombers, so I went into the air force. I loved flying a jet. I flew my P-51 Mustang over Japanese airfields near Tokyo for ten months before I was captured, held as a prisoner of war in a Japanese war camp for eighteen months.”
“Oh my God—that’s horrible.”
“I learned a lot about the people we were fighting in that time. I learned the language and the culture, got to understand their world. Had me questioning a lot of things. Good and evil. Right and wrong. Made me realize there’s two sides to every story.”
She nodded. Two sides. She’d only read one. She was desperate to hear his, to know why he did what he did. Why he broke her grandmother’s heart. She refused to come to her own conclusions. Life and love were complicated. She understood that right now better than anyone.
“So what happened after you returned?” She cleared her throat. “Did you marry? Have a family?” He was all alone here now, but that didn’t mean he didn’t possibly have family somewhere.
His eyes smiled as he shook his head. “I’d only ever loved one woman, and she deserved everything I couldn’t give her. I was a different man when I came back. The things I saw, the things I did changed me. It took a long time to come to peace with my part in the war. I was better alone.”
Sarah’s throat tightened. “But if you loved her…”
“I loved her enough to let her be happy. She married soon after and had children. I saw her almost every day…until the day she died, and seeing her smile and knowing she was living a wonderful life, that was enough for me.”
Tears burned the backs of Sarah’s eyes. But her grandma hadn’t been completely happy. Not without him. How could she tell him that? Would it matter? Or would it only make him sad to know that Dove’s heart had broken with his rejection? That she’d never fully gotten over him?
He snapped his fingers, making her jump. “You came for the bulbs,” he said, pointing to his head. “Nothing wrong with the old brain, in case you were afraid I’d forgotten.”
Sarah laughed, feeling the tension from the moment dissipate slightly. “Guilty.” She’d practically forgotten the reason she was there.
“Wait right there,” he said, going into the back room, where another terrible-sounding coughing fit took over.
“Do you need help?” she called. Not waiting for an answer, she pushed past the curtain to his work area. Several wooden benches were set up with various paint cans and sections of glass on top. In the corner was a furnace where the clear glass was melted, and on the other side of the room was an annealing oven, used for cooling finished pieces.
The shop extended farther than she’d realized. Behind the work area was a small living quarters. She could see the bachelor-style suite with the kitchenette, small living room, and a cot in the corner. Dated but comfortable-looking furniture and a small television and not much else.
He lived here, too.
I was better alone.
He’d spent his entire life alone. Her heart ached for him and for her grandma and for what never had the chance to be.
Seeing a row of pictures along the wall, she stopped to look at them. Jack in his air force uniform with two other men. One she didn’t recognize…but the other was definitely her grandfather. In the next picture, there were the three of them—her grandmother in the middle with her arm around each man, her smile lighting up the black-and-white picture. The photos had to have been taken before the men had left for war. They all still looked young and hopeful.
“Recognize that beauty?” Jack asked, coming up behind her with a large box in his arms.
She took it from him quickly, and her arms sagged under the unexpected weight. “My grandma. She was…?” She couldn’t finish the sentence, turmoil and a desperation to keep her grandma’s confidence making her say instead, “Thank you for getting these made so quickly. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re more than welcome.” He led the way back into the front of the shop, holding the curtain for her. “Looks like the storm is blowing over.”
A solitary beam of sunlight pierced through the dark sky and streamed in through the open blinds at the window. Sarah shivered, an eerie chill washing over her she couldn’t explain.
She set the box on the counter and reached for her wallet.
Jack shook his head. “No charge.”
“I have to pay you.”
“Sarah, chances are I won’t live long enough to spend the money I already have. Take them. A gift to Dove’s granddaughter.”
She released a deep breath, knowing there was no point in arguing with him. “Thank you, Mr. Harrison. This is very kind of you.”
The beam of sunlight moved across the floor and retreated into the clouds as new rain—big, heavy-sounding drops—started pelting against the window.
“Looks like we’re not out of the woods yet. You better hurry back to your car. Let me get the door for you,” he said, opening the shop door.
She eyed the ominous-looking sky as she stepped outside. “Bye, Mr. Harrison,” she said, hoping it wasn’t the last time she’d see him.
…
Wes glanced at Marissa in the passenger seat of the truck as they drove along the coast toward Camp Crowley. Dressed in her Girl Guides uniform, her oversize duffel bag at her feet, she looked slightly nervous as she turned her cell phone over and over in her hands.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, fine…”
She didn’t seem herself that morning. Quieter, more withdrawn as she’d finished packing her things, eaten breakfast, and they’d headed out. Was she really hating these summer camps? Maybe forcing her to go wasn’t the right thing to do. She usually enjoyed them once she got there, and by the end of the week, there was always a teary farewell to friends she’d reconnected with.
He cleared his throat. “I was thinking next year, we can skip this one and try that STEM camp instead.” She’d be ten then, and it was time to start giving her more freedom and independence. She was growing up, and that terrified him, but he suspected he’d worry about her when she was forty. That didn’t change for parents as their kids got older.
She nodded, her gaze lost out the window. “Sounds great, Dad.”
Okay, something was definitely up. “Hey, are you okay with…the whole Sarah and me thing?” She’d bee
n pushing them together before, and she’d seemed excited about it at dinner, but maybe now she wasn’t feeling so great about it. Maybe she felt her own friendship with Sarah would be challenged if he and Sarah were spending more time together. Or that she’d lose part of his time and attention.
But she turned to him and gave the first real smile that day. “Yes, Dad. I think you and Sarah together is great.”
He reached across and touched her cheek as he turned onto the gravel road and the gates of Camp Crowley came into view. She sighed in the seat next to him, and he stopped the truck and put it in park.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“If you don’t want to go, you don’t have to go,” he said. He was done encouraging her to do things she hated. She’d gone to this camp for three years. She’d given it a try. If she wanted to skip it, that was okay with him.
“It’s fine, Dad, really,” she said with what he knew was forced enthusiasm. “I’m looking forward to seeing my friends. I guess I’m just nervous.”
“You sure?”
“Yes,” she said with exasperation. “Come on, I’m going to be late for check-in.”
Wes drove through the camp gates and parked next to the other cars in the lot. Parents hugged their kids and collected their overnight bags. Most kids looked eager to hurry off and join their friends, and most of the parents looked just as eager to see them go after the long summer.
Climbing out, he waved to several parents he recognized, then turned to Marissa. “You got everything?”
“Yes, Dad.”
Now was the hard part. “Electronics?” he said, holding out a hand for her phone.
She kissed it, then handed it to him. “I’ll see you and Sarah on Friday?”
He nodded. His heart was still full at the thought. She liked Sarah enough to invite her to parents’ day, and Sarah had agreed to come. The way she’d fallen so perfectly into their lives still surprised him, but it made sense. Sarah offered both of them so much, and Wes only hoped he could give her everything she deserved.
He hugged Marissa tight. “Have a great time at camp. See you on Friday.” He stood there and waved as she dragged her duffel bag toward the check-in desk.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was up with his daughter.
…
Hanging the last of the blown-glass bulbs in the guest rooms, Sarah stood watching the sun reflect off the various colors. They were the perfect addition to the rooms, and now whoever bought the inn, she’d feel as though there was still a part of her in it. A part of Mr. Harrison, too. It felt right somehow to honor her grandmother’s first love in this small way.
“I hope I’m making you proud, Grandma,” she said.
Her cell chimed with a new email notification, and her heart raced seeing the subject line from her boss. The last few days, she’d completely forgotten about work. With the new revised proposal approved by Gail, she’d let herself relax until the pitch. Spending time with Wes and Marissa, she’d barely given it a second thought.
Opening it, she held her breath as she read, Pitch meeting for SmartTech has been moved up to this Friday at nine thirty a.m. They loved the proposal and don’t want to wait until after the long weekend. Need you here.
A month before, she’d have been jumping in her car and heading back to the city immediately, letting Whitney take over the event and putting the inn on the market from a distance, but now it wouldn’t be as easy to walk away from her hometown.
What the hell was wrong with her? This was her career. Her promotion was riding on this pitch. This was what she wanted.
Friday.
Oh no! That was Marissa’s parents’ day at camp.
Sarah bit her lip as she stared at the message, unsure how to reply. Maybe she could ask Gail if they could keep the original pitch time. Or maybe she could do the pitch in the morning and still make it back in time for the camp event. Marissa said it started at noon. It would be tight, but as long as the pitch was only an hour, like most… Either way, she knew she had to be there.
She squared her shoulders and, hitting reply, she typed, Of course I’ll be there.
But guilt immediately washed over her as she hit Send. She’d promised Marissa she’d be there for her as well. Disappointing the little girl had Sarah’s chest tightening. But this was work. It was important. And she wasn’t actually a parent…
Her stomach twisted. If she was going to be with Wes, be in their lives, she would be a parent. She’d need to step into that role for Marissa. Surprisingly, the idea didn’t scare her. She loved the idea of being in their lives, and she knew she could be a great friend to Marissa and hopefully eventually the stepmom she deserved.
Would she understand if Sarah didn’t make it to camp that Friday? Would Wes?
Sarah sighed. There had to be a way she could do both. She would hate to have to make a choice, but staring at the sent reply to her boss, she felt like she already had.
…
As Wes turned into the driveway of the B&B that evening, he couldn’t help the sense of pride at seeing the newly renovated inn. It had all its original charm but was stronger and sturdier to last another hundred years or more. He climbed out and headed up the path toward the front door.
Seeing Whitney standing on the lawn snapping photos on her cell phone, Wes shook his head. Always on the clock. Whitney probably dreamed of her to-do list when she slept. He’d never met anyone who worked harder than that woman. He stopped next to her. “Hey, Whitney, how are you?”
“Oh, hey, Wes,” she said with a smile. “This place looks incredible.”
“It really does. I’m happy Sarah decided to renovate,” he said. He wasn’t sure if Sarah had told her friends about them yet. They hadn’t really defined or labeled what was going on between them, but he knew he wanted a real relationship, and he sensed she did as well.
“Where’s Marissa?” she asked.
“Girl Guides camp,” he said. “Just dropped her off.” He was still concerned about her mood at drop-off, but he was desperate to trust her. If she said she was okay being there, he’d try not to let it worry him that week. It was only five days, and he was looking forward to the alone time with Sarah before she headed back to the city.
“I hear she and Sarah really hit it off?” Whitney asked, a grin on her face. One that said she suspected Marissa wasn’t the only one.
“Yes. Fast friends.” He sighed. “She’ll miss her once she heads back to L.A.”
Whitney eyed him. “Yeah…I suspect we all will.” She snapped several more photos and shook her head. “After all this time and money, I just hope Sarah’s efforts work to preserve the place.”
Wes frowned. “Why wouldn’t they? I’m sure someone will be interested in buying it.”
Whitney tucked her cell phone into her dress pocket. “I’m not worried she’ll be able to sell it; I’m just not sure the new owner will have the same attachment to it.”
Wes’s gut tightened. It was true. Dove’s Nest meant a lot to the residents of Blue Moon Bay, but an outside investor might not care. “Have you expressed your concerns to Sarah?”
“No. I don’t want her to feel pressured into not selling. She’s gone above and beyond to give the inn a fighting chance against a big chain, but I know she wouldn’t be happy staying here and keeping it just to save it.” She checked her watch.
He couldn’t expect that of Sarah, either, and he didn’t.
“Anyway, I have to run. Let Sarah know I’ll call her later,” Whitney said with a wave as she headed toward her yellow convertible.
Wes stared at the inn a minute longer before heading inside. Sarah descended the stairs, hearing him enter, and she immediately hurried toward him. “How did drop-off go?”
“Good,” he said. He wouldn’t worry her over his own uneasiness. His hands c
upped her face, and he pulled her into him. “I’ve been waiting all day to do this,” he said, his mouth crushing hers.
Her hands slid beneath his T-shirt and roamed over his abs and pectoral muscles, her fingers tickling his ribs. Her tongue explored his mouth, and her breathing was labored when she pulled back. “It was so hard not to do that with Marissa around.”
“Tell me about it.” But they were taking it slow and being respectful around his daughter. She may like Sarah, she may even like the idea of the two of them together, but too much, too soon might have her feeling differently. Sarah was the first woman to come into their lives since Kelly died, and Wes still needed to be careful of his daughter’s heart…
Even if there was no saving his own.
Taking his hand, she led the way into the den, where her computer was set up. “I just need to finish this code real quick; then I’m all yours,” she said, sitting on the sofa and picking up the laptop.
“I like the sound of that,” he said, sitting next to her. He kissed her cheek, then her ear, then her neck.
She giggled as she gently pushed his face away. “That’s distracting.”
If she thought that was a distraction…
He slid a hand over her bare thigh in her jean shorts. Moving higher and higher and then dipping his fingers below the fabric. He inched them higher until they reached her underwear.
“Wes…” She continued to type, but her breathing grew heavier and she opened her legs, giving him better access. She moaned and closed her eyes as his fingers moved higher to massage her mound through the thin lace. She stopped typing.
“You’re supposed to be working,” he murmured against her exposed shoulder in her tank top.
She sucked in her lower lip as his fingers moved the fabric aside and he plunged two into her already wet body. She took several shallow breaths as her fingers flew over the keyboard.
“It’s so damn sexy watching your brain work so fast,” he said, taking her hand and placing it over his erect penis, straining against the front of his shorts.
“It doesn’t take much to get you going, either,” she whispered, squeezing her hand around him.
A Lot Like Love Page 19
