by Kim Boykin
“But you like being on my boat.” Was he almost grinning when he stuck the pipe between his teeth?
“I guess so.”
“Feel like you never left?”
“A little, maybe.” Okay, a lot.
“Good,” he said, pointing to the sun rising over the horizon. “Gonna be a good one today.”
Declan had been pissed when he got to the slip, only to find his dad had left him again. Yeah, his dad had gotten angry at Declan for making him go to the diabetes doctor yesterday. Declan hadn’t realized his dad was two months past due for a visit until he ran out of his meds. The old man had pitched a fit the whole way there. Cussed a blue streak, but he went.
So Declan wanted his dad to be as healthy as possible. Was that a crime? In his dad’s eyes it was. He stood on the dock, watching the boat make its way toward the dock and damned if Shelby Worthington didn’t step aside from the helm so his dad could bring in the boat. What was that all about?
His dad said something to her. She laughed, and lo and behold, his father smiled. Full on. One for the record books.
She tossed Declan the lines, and he looped them over the mooring. Just when he opened his mouth to ask her what in the hell was going on, she hurried over to his dad and kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, Will. I had a good time.”
“You want to go again tomorrow, you got my number,” the old man said to Shelby as he pushed past Declan. “If Hell freezes over and I don’t go out, I’ll call you.”
“Wait,” Declan said to his dad, “you have her number?”
“And you don’t?” the old man laughed. “I’m too old to make a move and you’re obviously too stupid. You don’t deserve her.” He gave Shelby a curt nod. “Girl.”
She waved her phone at his father. “I’ll call you, Mr.—” He cut her off with a look that dissolved into another smile Declan would have sworn the old man didn’t have in him. “Will. I’ll call you.”
She headed down the gangplank and was almost past him when Declan called her name. She stopped. The look in her eyes said thanks but no thanks. What had the old man told her? Or maybe he’d just pointed out that Declan hadn’t really done anything to indicate he was interested in Shelby. Was he? Interested? The fact that his chest actually ached as she pushed past him, and he had to ball his fists by his sides to keep from touching her, said he was. Way more than he’d wanted to admit.
“Shelby,” he said, hurrying to catch up with her. “My dad’s right. I’m an idiot.” He turned her to face him, and she stood there looking at him with those eyes he always got so lost in. Was so lost in. “I want to take you out. Tonight.”
She was so surprised she dropped her phone. As they both reached for it, their hands met, and his heart squeezed a little bit tighter. He punched his number into her phone and let it ring so that he would have hers too. “I promise it will be great this time. No crazy exes. Just us.”
When she shook her head, he felt hollow, “Thanks, Declan, but I have a date.”
“Oh,” he said when he really wanted to say, no. Give me a chance. But as he watched her walk away again, he had the awful feeling it was for good.
He drove by Shelby’s house around midnight only to find it completely dark. It was bad enough she’d turned Declan down and was with another guy, but what if things had gone well? What if that guy looked at Shelby and saw what Declan did, a gorgeous, smart, sexy woman? Even worse, what if that guy was husband material?
It was his own damn fault. Declan wasn’t husband material. He’d proven that with Holly, Denise, and Elizabeth. With each of them, he’d thought he wanted to be married, but in the end, he just didn’t. When Shelby had said she was looking for a husband, he’d wanted to tell her that he wanted to have a shot, to maybe be that guy. But he didn’t tell her that. He’d all but agreed with her and then confused the hell out of her when he’d kissed her. He didn’t call her. Hell, until today, he didn’t even have her number.
And Denise hadn’t helped. She’d planted the seed of doubt in Shelby’s mind. But it wasn’t entirely Denise’s fault. It really wasn’t her fault at all. With Declan’s track record, the doubt was already there, flourishing, and, to be honest, he wasn’t sure he could offer Shelby better than what he’d offered any other woman in his life, a brief monogamous relationship. But something about Shelby made him want to at least try for more. To be more.
He went home but couldn’t sleep. It was after three when he tried to paint, but that wasn’t happening. With no idea of what to do with his feelings, he paced the studio like a caged animal, hoping his muse would kick in so he could bury himself in his work. Anything to take his mind off of the terrible irony that he’d fallen hard for Shelby Worthington, and she hadn’t fallen for him.
“So? How was it?” Emma asked as all six Chicks leaned in for Shelby’s answer.
“It was amazing,” she gushed, leaning forward on her elbows, her hands around her coffee cup. “I can’t even begin to tell you what it felt like, seeing him for the first time. I’m absolutely head over heels in love and can’t wait to see him again.”
They all squealed with excitement.
“I knew it,” Emma crowed. “I knew you’d love Tall Dark and Yankee.”
“I think she’s referring to the baby.” Chelsea smirked as she joined the hen party in her pajamas. “We had our first ultrasound this morning. I’m almost six weeks along. The technician couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl yet, but Shelby’s convinced I’m carrying the boy my parents always wanted.”
She started to pour a cup of coffee and Shelby stopped her and grabbed a water out of the fridge. Chelsea grumbled something about no caffeine being a bitch, and cracked open the water with a look that said, happy now?
“Boy. Girl. Doesn’t matter. We’re over the moon,” Shelby said.
“So, how did things go with Tall Dark and Yankee?” Miranda asked. “Does he do it for you, Shelby girl?”
He was about an inch taller than Declan. A hot, slick New Yorker who looked like he’d stepped out of a Calvin Klein ad. He was charming and a great kisser. He didn’t talk about himself too little or too much and seemed genuinely interested in Shelby. He was close to his parents, his brother and sister, both of whom were married and had kids. He adored his nieces and nephews and was definitely ready to settle down and start a family. After their sixth date in three weeks, it was confirmed that he was everything Shelby wanted.
“He’s just as Emma advertised and then some, but—.” Shelby paused.
“But he’s not Declan,” Chelsea said.
“You still pining for him?” Hannah said, rubbing Shelby’s arm.
“I’m not pining; it’s just the leftovers from a stupid crush. That’s all. It would be easier if he’d just go back to New York.”
Yeah, it looked like that wasn’t happening. He’d bought the old warehouse space two doors down from Slick Chicks and was turning it into a gallery. She also heard through the grapevine that he’d put an offer in on the Renault place and was closing at the end of the month. Not that it meant anything; Declan had the kind of money that he could afford to pick up and move whenever it suited him, leaving her and Magnolia Bay behind.
So, she gave her best effort and really had tried to like Tall Dark and Yankee. He was a gorgeous, highly likeable guy. She even made herself ignore Declan’s texts and his phone calls and was grateful she’d been busy the times he stopped in her store. And then the texts and calls stopped altogether.
She’d still met Will on the docks like she had every morning since she’d first gone out on the boat alone with him. At first she felt bad stealing away without Declan. But he had a spectacular view of the marina from his house and probably saw her heading out with his dad every day. Declan hadn’t made an effort to come along.
Maybe he was just glad someone was with his father out on the water and glad that it wasn’t him. Whatever the case, Declan apparently hadn’t wanted to go on the boat with his dad or her. That made her hurt for Wi
ll. And herself, but she didn’t let that stop herself from enjoying the outings with Will.
Somewhere in all those rough edges, Shelby had uncovered a nice man who suffered from poor health, but mostly he suffered from regret. Regret that he’d been an awful husband and father. Regret that he’d drunk away his health. He wouldn’t say it, but Shelby could see the remorse in his eyes every time he talked about Declan, which was surprisingly often and usually involved selling her on his son.
And then Will had surprised the hell out of her yesterday as they were leaving the boat. He’d put his hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes, “I was right and I was wrong,” he said flatly. “My son doesn’t deserve you, but then neither do I. You’ve given this old man a second chance at life, honey, and I hope you’ll do the same for my boy.”
But more than anything, maybe even more than she wanted Declan, she wanted him and his father to make peace with the past and make the best of the time they had left together. Hopefully, the text she’d sent Declan before she went to bed last night would do that or it would at least be a start.
With the biggest tarpon tournament of the year in town, Shelby had been slammed with fishermen’s wives and significant others who had kept her hopping all day but hadn’t bought much. Going over inventory, she made a note to order more of those maternity sundresses that Chelsea adored. She marked down the slinky maxi dresses she’d been sure would be a big hit, and she was surprised that jumpsuits were selling again. Albeit very chic ones.
The bell over the door rang and she looked up to see a drop dead gorgeous woman with mile long legs dressed in a tiny black dress that hit her at mid-thigh. Her silver strappy sandals were Alexander McQueens, the real thing. Her makeup and hair were perfect. Jewelry stunning.
“Can I help you?” Shelby asked.
“I hope so. I just flew into Charleston and the airline lost my bag. God only knows when they’ll find it; guess that’s what I get for flying commercial.”
“Just let me know if you need anything. My name is Shelby.” Yes, this woman looked like private jet material. A big sale would make up for being run ragged all day by a bunch of lookers, and judging from the looks of this woman, she was born to shop. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”
The woman flipped through the rack and stopped at a bright red baby doll sundress that would be obscenely short on her. “This maybe.” She looked through the rack and picked up a couple more pieces.
“I’ll start you a dressing room,” Shelby said, taking the clothes from the woman.
Shelby watched the woman go through the store’s inventory with blinding speed. She made suggestions, answered questions, but didn’t put the hard sell on this woman who obviously was on a mission and knew what she wanted.
“Wow.” Shelby knew her mouth was gaping open, but she couldn’t help it. “Wow.” The woman was in the dressing room for a few seconds before she strutted out in the baby doll dress, headed for the triple mirror. She didn’t have to look at herself, it was obvious she knew she looked amazing. “It looks good with your shoes too.”
“It does. Maybe I’ll go through what you have just to be on the safe side.” She scrutinized herself in the mirror, flipping her hair before she gathered it up. “My fiancé likes my hair up. Do you think this dress looks good with it that way?”
She knew good and well it didn’t matter what she did with her hair; she was exquisite. But Shelby had been around enough women like her, so she gave her exactly what she was asking for. “He’s a lucky guy. You look beautiful.”
“You think so?” She actually blushed, let her perfect hair down and fluffed it up, the reflection from her huge diamond ring nearly blinding Shelby. “I haven’t seen him in a while. I can’t believe I’m so nervous.”
“Pretty lingerie is always a good starting place. I have some gorgeous silk pieces and some cute lace cami and panty sets I’m sure he’d love.”
She picked up a peach bra and panty set. “He loves me in this color.”
“I’m sure he loves you in any color. What size bra?”
“Thirty-four. D.”
Of course.
As Shelby flipped through the bras on the rack, looking for the right size. The woman looked at a very sexy cobalt blue nighty before heading to the dressing room. Yes, selling bras to women like this one always served to remind Shelby that she was barely a B cup. She rifled through one of the drawers and handed the woman the bra. “Let me know if I can get you anything else.”
She ignored Shelby’s offer and minutes later strutted out of the dressing room in the panties and bra, completely comfortable with her body. But who could blame her? She was perfect. Tall. Gorgeous. She snapped up the cobalt piece and gave Shelby a look as naughty as the negligee and laughed. “For such a small boutique, you have a little bit of everything. Just what I need,” she said disappearing into the dressing room. “You really do have a great shop, Shelby, and trust me, I’ve shopped all over the world.”
“Your man’s a fool if he doesn’t like that panty set, and if he doesn’t go for the blue piece, he doesn’t have a pulse,” Shelby said, laughing.
The woman came out of the dressing room with the lingerie and several dresses. On her way to the checkout, she held up a couple of tops up to see if they’d fit her ample chest and tossed them onto the counter along with her credit card. Shelby took the sensors off each piece and folded them in tissue paper before bagging them.
“Thanks.” Shelby ran the credit card and glanced at the name before she handed it back.
“Thanks, Shelby. You were a huge help,” the woman said.
“You’re welcome,” Shelby said and forced a smile as she watched Declan Enright’s former and apparently present fiancée strut out of her store.
Chapter Twelve
Declan was still sleeping like shit. It was after two when he poured himself a glass of Southern Comfort, hoping it would relax him enough to sleep. Everything was messed up. He hadn’t painted in days. His dad wanted nothing to do with him, and Shelby was ignoring him.
He stared at the amber liquid in his glass, took a big sip and thought about Shelby. There was no logical reason he couldn’t get her out of his head, and he had no idea when she’d worked her way into his heart. Had to admit, watching her meet his dad every morning had pissed him off. He wrote it off to jealousy at first, that she’d rather spend time with his dad than with him. He took another sip; the cold sweet alcohol burned the back of his throat.
His phone pinged. A text from Shelby. Hey. Little worried about your dad. Seems more unsteady lately. Says he’s okay. Hope he is.
He ran his thumb over her name and then scrolled up through the texts he’d sent her in the last three weeks. He was pissed she’d avoided him which was no small feat in Magnolia Bay and even more pissed she’d never answered his messages. Thanks. I check on him a couple times a day. Hates that, says he doesn’t need me harping on him. No, what his dad needed was a new liver. Fat chance of that happening. But it makes him take his meds and watch his diet all by himself. For spite.
He typed I really miss you. Can I see you? But before he could press the send button a text came through. I can’t go on the boat in the morning with him. Hope you can make it.
He tapped out another message. You have something else to do before five a.m.?
I won’t be home. Well there it was. Three times, he’d passed her and some guy headed out of Magnolia Bay in a little white Mercedes with the top down. If she’d noticed Declan, she didn’t act like it. Did she look deliriously happy? No. But then she didn’t exactly look miserable either.
Thanks for everything you’ve done for my dad. I’ll be there in the mornings from here on out.
A few seconds later, his phone pinged. Good. And that was that.
Declan stood just on the other side of the cockpit and watched his dad waiting for Shelby on the dock. He stood there for almost a half hour before he boarded the boat.
“I’ll get the line
s,” Declan said rounding the corner.
Instead of snarling at him, his dad started the boat, took the helm, and waited until the lines were clear before guiding the Lazy Jane out of the harbor. They went to the same spot they always did and when his dad killed the engine, the only sound was the waves slapping gently against the boat.
His dad sat down beside Declan, packed the pipe, and set the pouch of tobacco between them while he lit the bowl. For the first time in his life, the smell didn’t bother Declan. He picked up the pouch, opened it, and took some of the moist tobacco between his fingers. Smelled it. Still nothing. The tension he normally felt was gone too. But his father looked worse. Was getting worse and there was nothing Declan could do about it but be with him.
“This means I have to see your ugly mug three times a day now?”
“You’re stuck with me, old man, as much as I’m stuck with you.”
“What happened with the girl?”
“Why don’t we just shut up and enjoy the sunrise, Dad.”
But peace was the last thing the old man had ever offered Declan. He took a long draw off of his pipe and pointed it at Declan. “What’d you do?”
“It’s none of your business, Dad.”
“The hell it isn’t,” he barked, sounding almost like his old self. “I like her.”
“Yeah, I do too. But she doesn’t want me.”
“Listen to you, whining. She likes you good and plenty. Why do you think she put up with a grouchy old fart like me?”
There was a long silence. His dad looked longingly at some shrimp boats trawling further inland, and for the first time in a very long time, Declan felt the grief that came from not being the son his father wanted him to be.
“She likes you, Dad. Told me so herself, but she’s seeing someone else.”
“So, both of us missed out,” his father said.
