by Lisa Carter
One day, he’d be handsome. As handsome as his dad. Jax would have to fight the girls off his son with a stick.
Jax crouched eye level to the child. “Looks like you enjoyed the Long Johns.” He ruffled his son’s hair.
But the small boy moved, putting himself out of reach of his father. Darcy’s stomach knotted at the stark pain on Jax’s face.
Shirley nudged the boy. “Tell your dad who we ran into at the Sandpiper.”
The child inserted a thumb into his mouth. “No.”
Hands on his thighs, Jax rocked onto his heels. “It’s okay, Aunt Shirley. With my multiple deployments, Brody and I spent a lot of time apart. We’re still getting reacquainted.”
It wasn’t okay. And from her taut expression, Shirley didn’t think so, either.
“We ran into your mother, Darcy.” Shirley laid her calloused hand on Brody’s shoulder. “Agnes was quite taken with this little guy.”
Darcy got on her knees in front of Brody. “Long Johns are my favorite, too.”
Unmoving, the too-solemn child studied her.
Jax cleared his throat. “Son, I’d like you to meet my friend Darcy.”
“Friend?” She and Anna had been BFFs. Him? Not so much.
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “We weren’t enemies, were we?”
No, they hadn’t been enemies.
Taking his thumb out of his mouth, Brody made a V with two fingers. “Me two.” He uncurled another finger. “Thwee.”
She turned to Jax for a translation.
“Brody will be three years old in September.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “We’re working on his r’s.”
The child jabbed his thumb into his chest. “Me big.”
“You are a big boy.” She gave Brody an approving look. “A very big, strong boy.”
He nodded, as somber as an undertaker. “Me Bwody Pwoo-it.”
Darcy’s heart turned over in her chest. “Hello, Brody Pruitt.” She smiled at him.
Catching her by surprise, Brody touched a strand of her hair. “Pwetty.”
She blushed. “Thank you, Brody.”
Jax broadened his chest. “Good taste runs in his genes.”
“Loves the ladies, does he?” She sneered at Jax. “Apples never fall far.”
With his long legs extended and crossed at his booted ankles, Jax leaned his elbow on the counter. “I’ve always had a particular affection for trees.”
Flushing, she shot to her feet so fast the room went cattywampus.
Instantly upright, Jax reached for her arm. “Darce?”
Anger—swift and hot—churned her gut. At his easy familiarity with her name. At...everything. She shook off his hand.
His face fell. “I didn’t mean—”
“You never mean to do anything, do you, Jaxon?” She clenched her teeth.
“The two of you need to get it together.” Shirley’s forehead creased. “There’s an excursion booked for Tuesday.”
Darcy folded her arms. “I’m sure Jaxon can figure out whatever he needs to know.”
His face pinched and sad, Brody stood knee-high between Shirley and Jax. And Darcy almost weakened. But Jaxon Pruitt and his son weren’t her problem.
“I—I have to go.” She rushed through the door as if her sanity depended on it. Where Jaxon Pruitt was concerned, it was not beyond the realm of possibility.
Stumbling outside, she stared at the gazebo on the village square. This couldn’t be happening to her. There had to be some mistake.
But there was no mistake. Knuckle under to working with Jaxon Pruitt or find herself unemployed. Her choice.
Shirley stepped onto the porch. “Darcy... Please try to understand.”
Darcy wheeled around. “You said whenever you decided to retire, you’d give me first dibs on buying the business.”
She raised her eyebrow. “Did I say that?”
“You certainly led me to believe that. I believed we were friends.”
Shirley had never fit into what most of her generation considered a proper role for a Southern woman. Instead of marriage and motherhood, she operated a successful water sports business. She was one of the first people to grasp the importance of ecotourism. She was also an environmental advocate in preserving the pristine beauty of the Delmarva Peninsula, bordered by the Atlantic on the east and the Chesapeake Bay on the west.
“We are friends, Darcy.” Shirley’s trim, athletic figure belied her sixty-plus years. “I need you to trust me when I tell you this arrangement is going to work out best for all of us.”
Feeling the cool wind off the harbor, Darcy wrapped her bare arms around herself. “I’m sorry, but I don’t see how any of this is in my best interest.”
“Jaxon needs the shop more than you do.”
This was so unfair. She’d spent years working her way to becoming Shirley’s manager. She’d saved her money in preparation for one day assuming ownership.
“What about my ecotour certification? He doesn’t have that.” Darcy set her jaw. “Nor any experience in this business.”
“He worked here in high school, like you.”
Until Jax had graduated, joined the army and married overseas. She could feel pink breaching the collar of her cotton shirt. One of the downsides to being a strawberry blonde. Her every emotion was always on display.
But of all the people in the world, why did the new owner have to be him?
“Jaxon is struggling to readjust to civilian life, Darcy.”
She threw out her hands. “So give him a job, Shirley. We hire extra people over the summer.”
“Jaxon needs more than a part-time job. He needs a purpose. And a steady income to support his child. They need a home.”
Darcy had a hard time envisioning Anna’s footloose, marginally reckless, ever charming brother with a child. Or married. Except now he was a widower.
Her mouth thinned. “So you’re saying this is my patriotic duty?”
“I’m only asking you to stay till summer’s end. Help Jaxon learn the ropes.”
Darcy shook her head. “He’s your nephew. And I don’t get your sudden need to retire.”
“The timing of his return is a godsend.” Shirley’s eyes danced. “I’ve met someone.”
Darcy blinked. “Who? When?”
“In January, during the winter kayaking season. He lives next door to my condo in the Keys.” Shirley’s no-nonsense face glowed. “He’s retired Coast Guard. Like me, he loves to feel the sand between his toes.”
This was so unlike the Shirley she’d always known, she was almost speechless. “Why haven’t you said anything?”
Shirley shook her head. “You know how it is in Kiptohanock. Everybody in everybody else’s business. I didn’t want my family knowing until I was sure about the next step with Frank.”
“But to leave everything? For a man you barely know?”
“Frank’s a widower. His children and grandchildren are settled in Florida.” Shirley sighed. “I’m willing to relocate for the sake of our relationship.”
“Have you at least talked to my dad?”
“Your father, my pastor, gave me some good advice, which I intend to follow. It’s time for a change in my life.” Acquired after a lifetime of gauging sea horizons, Shirley’s crow’s-feet fanned into half-moons of joy.
In light of her obvious happiness, Darcy surrendered to the inevitable. “So what can I do to help?”
“Come winter, I’d like you to take over running the business in the Keys.”
Her heart skipped a beat. She’d always longed to travel. Now she’d get her chance. Though it would mean leaving everyone and everything she loved behind.
“But meanwhile...” Shirley took a deep breath. “Help me by helping my nephew find a place for himself here with his son.”
Anything but that. Darcy squeezed her eyes shut. Thready panic fluttered like butterfly wings in her belly. “The Eastern Shore business for the Florida Keys branch?”
Shirley must’ve sensed her wavering resistance. “Please? You won’t be sorry. I promise.”
Darcy was already sorry. But as the daughter of the seaside hamlet’s beloved Reverend Parks, she was nothing if not dutiful. The business would fail without her expertise. Jaxon would fail. Was she willing to stand by and watch that happen?
“If I agree...and that’s a big if, Shirley,” Darcy said, gritting her teeth. “I might consider helping once it gets busy, but when it comes to working with Jaxon on a daily basis, I can’t make any promises.”
“Just give it a try, and then come to Florida. If you decide that’s what you truly want to do.”
Darcy grimaced. “What else would I do? It’s not like I have many options.” Story of her life. And she was so sick of her life.
Not the only one who needed a change, maybe Shirley was right. Who wouldn’t want to spend the winter in tropical Florida? Maybe this plan was best. Darcy just had to live through a summer of Jax.
Her heart sank.
When it came to Jaxon Pruitt, it was easier said than done.
Chapter Two
With more than a little reluctance, Darcy went inside the shop again with Shirley. Jax turned from the display kiosk. At his feet, Brody was stuffing a child-size Osprey backpack with everything within reach.
Jax tried taking hold of the pack. But scowling, his son hugged the lime-green bag to his chest.
“Brody likes to zip things,” Jax murmured. “He was just playing. I’ll put everything back where it belongs.”
“It’s your store. You can do what you want.” She motioned to the backpack Brody clutched. “I like lime-green, too.”
Jax shot her a glance. “I remember.”
She ignored his overture. “Are you going on an expedition, Brody?”
Lips set in a thin line, Brody unzipped the bag. One by one, he removed the items he’d stashed, holding them up for her inspection. Cords, a pair of waterproof gloves, and carabiners. Which he clicked open and shut.
She smiled over his head to Jax. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a budding outdoorsman.”
Uncoiling a notch, he gave her a tentative smile.
Shirley took hold of the little boy’s hand. “You two should get to work. Since Brody’s packed his gear, we’ll take a stroll around the square. Take in the sights.”
Darcy rolled her eyes. “That should take about five minutes.” She helped Brody slip the pack on his back and tighten the straps.
“True.” Shirley headed for the door. “But I also need more experience with little ones before I head to Florida this afternoon.”
Darcy spent the next thirty minutes familiarizing Jax with shop merchandise and the online accounting system.
At a flicker of movement on the sandy beach outside, she looked up and saw Shirley giving Brody a beginner lesson on entering and exiting a kayak. The ecoentrepreneur didn’t know much about children, but when in doubt, she fell back on what she did know. And Shirley knew kayaking.
Brody was too cute in his navy blue crocs, his legs straddling the child-sized kayak.
And with Jax engrossed in perusing the company website, she took her first good look at Brody’s father. As lanky as ever, tall like all the Pruitt men. Corded muscles rippled along his forearms.
He’d fulfilled the physical potential of the boy she’d once known. Always handsome with his brown hair and melted-chocolate eyes. Problem was, back then he knew it. He knew just how to use his charm and good looks to his advantage.
The clean, pleasing aroma of his soap teased her nostrils. Her pulse jumped. She jolted at Jax’s voice.
“How do you schedule the outings?”
The faster she updated Jaxon Pruitt on the business he’d bought out from under her, the faster she could return to her own life. Clicking the mouse, she showed him how to access the booking calendar.
“We offer one- to three-day kayaking expeditions, in addition to half-day trips. Anything from day-tripping to navigating the entire hundred-mile length of the Seaside Water Trail. From the tip of the peninsula at Cape Charles north to Chincoteague.”
“Aunt Shirley did this by herself?”
Darcy shrugged. “After high school, I came on full-time. We worked in tandem on the water. But in the last few years, I’ve led the paddle groups while Shirley coordinated details at the shop.”
Jax ticked through the website tabs. “Where do clients overnight on multiday expeditions?”
“For the more adventurous, we pitch tents on the barrier islands. Others prefer accommodations at B and Bs we’ve established relationships with, like the Duer Inn.”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“Of course, you’ll need to teach paddle school before every excursion. And memorize the chart routes.” At his dazed look, she stopped. “It’s a lot to take in all at once.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Yeah.” His shoulders drooped.
At the uncertainty blanketing his features, a begrudging compassion filled her. “It will get easier, Jax.”
His gaze cut to hers. “Will it?”
Darcy’s breath hitched at his bleak expression. “Like riding a swell, it’ll come back. You’ll catch up.” Her heart pounded. “I’ll help.”
“I need all the help I can get.” His gaze shifted to the window. “Brody likes you.” Jax’s eyes dropped to the keyboard. “He’s been so closed-off since his mother died. I’d begun to think he’d never—” His voice choked.
The Jax she remembered wasn’t given to displays of emotion.
She closed the laptop. “Brody is a sweetheart. It’s entirely my pleasure to know your son.”
Giving Jax time to recover his self-control, she went over the list of gear presented to clients after booking an excursion.
He shuffled through a folder he’d brought with him. “I’ve been thinking about a new marketing strategy to lure in more locals. What if we—”
“Not a good idea.”
His nostrils flared. “How about listening before you dismiss my ideas?”
She jutted her chin. “How long has it been since you’ve been kayaking, Jax?”
His chiseled features hardened. “A while. Adrienne was from Utah. She preferred to snow ski.”
“Well, here’s a little news flash for you. Nothing—including kayaking—stood still while you were spanning the globe.”
“I never said—”
“Typical Jaxon Pruitt. Always assuming he knows more than he really does.”
He gritted his teeth. “That’s not fair. Hear me out.”
“Based on experience, I know locals aren’t interested in the tours we operate. Nor, for the most part, able to pay the premium we charge.”
“Darcy, I’ve been reading—”
“Reading?” She sniffed. “If only your high school English teacher had lived to see the day.”
Jax exhaled. “Look, for this partnership to work we’re both going to have to get on board with compromise. As the new owner, I think—”
“I wouldn’t get on board with you, Jaxon Pruitt, if the ship was sinking and you were the last lifeboat available.”
“Darcy, if you’d just—”
Scraping her chair across the tile, she rose. “We’re done.”
He got to his feet. “You’d rather drown than paddle with me?” His jaw went rock solid. “Fine.”
Toe to toe with him, she glared. “Great.”
His brows furrowed. “Fantastic.”
She started for the door, her flip-flops punctuating her angry stride. “A jock like you shouldn’t use big words he doesn’t know how to spell.”
“Takes
one to know one.”
She wheeled. “Did you call me a jock?”
Confusion flickered in his dark eyes. “Tomboy Darcy would’ve taken it as a compliment.”
“Tomboys grow up.” She curled her lip. “Something you should try.”
“I didn’t mean...” He growled. “Why do you have to be so obstinate, Darcy Parks? So hardheaded? So—”
She whirled toward the door. “Like you say, takes one to know one.” Never looking back, she fluttered her hand over her shoulder. “Goodbye. Good riddance. Have yourself a good life, Jaxon Pruitt.”
“Darce...”
Storming out, bell jangling, she let the slamming door frame her response.
Her and Jaxon Pruitt work together? Impossible. He was impossible. Same old arrogant jerk. She must’ve been delusional, imagining he’d acquired even a shred of humility.
She was breathing hard when she flung herself inside the SUV. Strangling the wheel, she forced herself to take a cleansing breath. Of all the people she’d ever known, Jaxon Pruitt possessed a rare ability to send her into orbit.
After cranking the key in the ignition, she pulled out of the parking lot and passed her father’s car at the church. On Saturday afternoons, he liked to practice preaching his sermon to the empty sanctuary. Reverend Parks would’ve told her she needed to pray about her attitude. Like Jax didn’t?
When she rounded the village green, one of the volunteer firefighters waved from the open bay of the station. Small town friendliness. Some things never changed. Which used to drive her crazy. But now?
There was something incredibly soothing and comforting about the unchanging rhythm of life on the Eastern Shore. As predictable as the tide. A surety in an otherwise uncertain world that, at age thirty, she’d finally learned to appreciate.
A cocoon of safety... She grimaced. Until Jaxon and his heart-stealing son had arrived.
Completing her drive-by of the square, she turned into one of the residential side streets radiating out from the green like the spokes of a wheel.
Oaks and maples arched over the street. Streaming through the foliage, sunshine splattered the sidewalk. Averting her gaze from Jaxon’s family home, she pulled into the driveway of the neighboring Victorian parsonage, her home since birth.
