“That’s it?”
“They don’t hand out antibiotics like they used to for ear infections. We are in wait-and-see mode. If his temperature goes up, or if he seems in more pain…”
“I’ll take him to his doctor.”
“I was going to say, you can add the ibuprofen. Alternate the medicine. Also, prop his head up when he sleeps so the pressure won’t build up behind his ears.” She must have seen the growing concern in Conor’s eyes, because she stopped in the middle of the instructions and patted his hand. “If you don’t think you can do this—” Maureen, a woman with three kids under her belt, had also offered to watch Benjamin to free Shelby for the big event tonight once she’d heard about the problem, but Conor insisted on taking the job so his mother could join in with the fun.
“No. I’m going to take care of Benny boy here, right?” He looked at Shelby’s son, who showed signs of being in less pain now than when he’d first arrived, so he crossed his eyes and made a funny face. For his effort, Benjamin gave a half laugh. Conor suspected it was more out of courtesy than for his skill at clowning around.
It took a lot of convincing, but she packed up during Benjamin’s midmorning nap and left for the restaurant. When the house was totally quiet, Conor tiptoed into the boy’s room to check on him. As he watched Benjamin deeply asleep, curled up around the small pillow Shelby had hoped would keep pressure from building in his ears, Conor got blindsided by a feeling: worry.
He rolled his shoulders, realizing how tense he’d been all morning, watching the kid suffer. It’d hurt him and made him wish he could take the pain instead of Benny, who clearly didn’t deserve to feel that way.
Conor smiled over the crib, thinking the child seemed to be in some state of nirvana. As he stood there, another thought occurred to him, and it had something to do with the warm sensation circulating in his chest. He cared for the boy, and not just in an isn’t-he-cute kind of way, but with real feelings that reached deep inside and tugged on all kinds of heartstrings in myriad different directions. So confusing. Was this a taste of how it felt to be a parent?
*
Shelby couldn’t believe how well the Titanic-themed party was going. Then guilt struck like the iceberg that sank the ship. Her baby was home sick, how could she possibly enjoy herself? She’d been so busy with preparing and serving the food, she hadn’t thought about him in, she glanced at her watch, at least an hour. Until today, her mother was the only other person in the world she relied on to care for her boy. Now there was Conor, whom she trusted on every level.
Early on, alone in New York City without options, she’d had to leave her baby with caregivers she really didn’t know, and the thought of ever having to repeat those anxious times made her queasy. How had she done it, survived without support of family or close friends?
She shook her head, focused back on the loud party and admitted those days were over. Taking a deep breath, she glanced around the full-to-capacity room where people smiled, laughed, ate and drank while sharing lively conversations. A half-dozen women who were staying at the Prescott B&B came in turn-of-century Edwardian-era dresses with puffy sleeves, cinched waists and pointy shoes, complete with huge hats straight from the 1990s Titanic movie. As Shelby stood there, noticing that everyone appeared to be having a blast, even Sean and Maureen Delaney, Maureen approached her.
“How’s Benjamin doing?” Conor’s mother asked, pushing her face close so Shelby could hear.
How could she answer that she hadn’t checked in lately, without sounding like a horrible parent? “I think okay. At least Conor hasn’t sent any texts or called.”
“Good. I was surprised he’d volunteered.”
“You’re not the only one.”
“I think you’re the only person on the planet he’d do it for.”
Shelby had wondered the same thing, and hearing it come from Mrs. Delaney drove the point home. Conor’s offering to take care of Benjamin was nothing short of heroic.
If their relationship kept on at this rate, she’d be ready to propose to him by summer. Who cared about tradition, he was the guy she wanted to spend the rest of her life with!
She felt a buzzing in the pocket of her chef’s jacket, fished out her phone and saw a text from Conor. Her heart dipped with concern, until she read it.
All is well. Benjamin is eating a second bowl of cereal.
He’d attached a photo of her boy chowing down as proof.
She grinned, noting his hair looked damp, like maybe the fever had broken. A good thing. Then another picture came through, a selfie with the two of them smiling like they had a big secret, and Conor looking far too much like perfect daddy material.
She had to face the facts, he was a hero and a half, but did that make him too good to be true?
She shared the photo with Maureen. “Speaking of the little angel.” Her chest swelled with relief for her son, and love for Conor’s consideration. How did he know she was just wondering and worrying about Benjamin? And him, too.
“Aw, he’s so adorable. Glad he’s doing okay. And would you look at that, Conor’s a natural.” In more ways than one. With that, Maureen gave Shelby a hug and went off to mingle.
Shelby was just about to return to the kitchen to replenish the lamb and cod offerings when a distinguished-looking man in a gray suit approached.
“Chef Brookes?”
She stopped and offered her handshake. “Yes. Hello.”
“I’m Damian Black.”
She had a distinct memory of seeing the salt-and-pepper-haired, tanned gentleman in the restaurant before. A week or two ago? He’d stood out from the usual crowd in that he’d worn a sophisticated three-piece suit on that visit, too. Now her interest was piqued.
“Looks like your Titanic tasting event is a huge success. The appetizers are all delicious, I might add.”
“Thank you.”
“I first heard about The Drumcliffe Restaurant from a stellar write-up in the Central Coast Ledger, and decided to pop in to see if your talent was as good as Felecia Worthington insisted.” He paused, and gave a relaxed, charming smile. “I’m happy to say I wasn’t disappointed.”
“I’m so glad. Thank you for telling me. We’re trying to bring the restaurant to a new level and reach out to foodies in the tri-county.”
“You’ve definitely raised the level of cuisine, and that’s why I’m here tonight.”
Her pulse quickened with curiosity. “Sir?”
“Shelby?” Fred approached from the vicinity of the kitchen. “Is there still time? Should we make more scallops?”
“Oh.” Torn between Fred, and making an executive decision about whether to close the kitchen or not, and the mysterious man with gray eyes who obviously wanted to talk, she looked back and forth between the two.
“I see now isn’t the best time to speak with you,” Mr. Black spoke first. “Perhaps we can make an appointment for lunch tomorrow?”
Now she was more curious why he was at the affair. “Is there a reason to make an appointment?”
“Well, yes. A good one.” He gave a confident smile. “I’m here from San Francisco, to offer you a job.”
Chapter Eleven
Shortly after ten, Shelby rushed home exhilarated by success. Titanic night had been huge, and people were already signing on for the July Night in Paris event. Torn between the high from the successful event and shaken from the inner turmoil caused by the last-minute job offer, she needed time to think. Hadn’t this been her goal when she’d come home—to find her bearings and move on? But now that she and Conor were involved again, she’d started thinking of ways to stay and be happy with the job.
She’d been approached by a total stranger who wanted to offer her a job! She’d taken a regular hotel restaurant and come up with a way to put it on the map of Central Coast, California. Both were big.
Her heart beat a happy rhythm as she took the front porch steps and hurried toward the door. If enough people showed interest, they would hav
e to close the restaurant to the public to accommodate them. Who’d have ever thought the night she’d almost burned the place down that this would happen?
Conor must have heard her pull up because he opened it before she could get her key out of her purse. She threw herself into her hero’s embrace. Hadn’t he saved the night?
She wrapped her arms around him, careful not to spill the takeout box with several of the appetizers in it, and gave him a long, steady kiss, full of hints about what she wanted to do next. There was so much to tell him with her mind nearly exploding, and she couldn’t exactly talk and kiss, so she ended it.
“You won’t believe how great tonight was. I wish you could have been there.” She handed him the box, and he peeked inside. “Is he asleep?”
She didn’t let Conor get a word in. All he could do was nod, his eyes clearly amused by her enthusiasm. She flew to her son’s door, opened it with great care, then tiptoed into the room. The sight she’d longed to see all the way home warmed her inside. If she were honest about what she’d craved, the payoff of seeing fever-free Benjamin sleeping would be a tie with seeing Conor.
Her son lay curled inward with his butt in the air, sucking his thumb. A vision only a mother would swoon over. He was so beautiful. What good fortune she had to be his mom!
Conor quietly stepped behind her, dropping his arms around her shoulders and chest and drawing her close to him. A perfect moment—being held by the man she loved and watching her son sleep. They remained that way for several seconds until Benjamin inhaled and turned away from the single bar of hallway light streaming through the door.
Once back in the living room, where Shelby’s heart began calming down, her desire for Conor revved up. She zeroed in on his sensual lips and kissed him, making sure he knew exactly what was on her mind. “Surprisingly I’ve got a lot of energy left,” she said, flicking her gaze sideways then upward to see if he read her bold message.
His arms encircled her and he took control of the next several kisses, walking her backward to her bedroom, pushing through the door and plowing onto her bed. The headboard knocked against the wall when they landed. In a matter of seconds, they’d disposed of their clothes, his hands and lips wandering to every single one of her most sensitive places. There and there, she gasped, and oh, yes, yes, there.
She lived for his sweet-tasting kisses, his heated touch. His magical fingers releasing tingles and chills over every centimeter of her body. She could let go and give in to him now, and she did for a long luxuriating while, but then she rolled him onto his back. Straddling his hips without the least bit of resistance, she had every intention of taking charge from here on out. His hooded gaze met her decided stare and he let her. Then sliding along the firm muscles of his chest and smooth stomach, inhaling his wild and turned-on scent all the way down, she descended and palmed the strong length of him, delivering a different kind of deep kiss.
Owning him.
*
Shelby and Conor came barreling out of her bedroom, still tucking, buttoning and zipping their clothes. She’d heard her mother’s car pull into the carport a little before eleven. Feeling like a teenager all over again, she straightened her hair and hoped they didn’t reek of sex.
Conor opened the box of appetizers and shoved one into his mouth before Mom came through the side kitchen door.
“How’d it go?” Donna Brookes asked, probably pretending not to notice the disheveled state of the two of them.
“Fantastic!” Shelby said, beaming. She took the box from Conor and offered her mother an appetizer. “I recommend the lamb à la française.”
“Hmm, this is delicious. I’m so happy. Wish I could have been there.”
“Come for the July Night in Paris event, then.”
“Sign me up.” Her mother distracted herself from noticing the obvious state of affairs, their disheveled appearance, by opening a catchall drawer in the kitchen, riffling through it looking for who knew what, then closing it without success.
“Mark took pictures of some of the ladies from the Prescott B&B who came in Edwardian dress, like they probably wore on the Titanic, and posted them on The Drumcliffe website. You would’ve loved them. Oh, and we had a full house, and everyone was smiling and eating like pigs. It was great.”
“Wonderful. Full house?” Her mother couldn’t quite bring herself to look her in the eyes, maybe because Shelby had just realized her top was buttoned all wrong, with two extras hanging noticeably over her work pants, and her lips felt swollen from their extraordinary kissing session.
Conor stood off to the side, taking everything in, having opened the container of scallop sabayon and helping himself.
“Yes. Every person who signed up showed up.” Then she remembered the biggest news of the night, which, in her excitement at being with her hero and seeing her boy, had slipped her mind once home. “Oh, and you won’t believe this, just as we were finishing up, some man came up to me and offered me a job in San Francisco!”
Conor went still, and so did Shelby, realizing she’d meant to tell him first, after they’d finished making love, which had gotten aborted due to her mother coming home.
“Really?” Donna seemed shocked.
“What?” Conor said, sounding unpleasantly surprised, or irritated?
“Uh, yeah, I got offered a job, but I don’t know anything about it yet, because it was busy and I’m meeting this man named Damian Black for lunch tomorrow to find out more.” Her face went warm.
Conor set the box on the kitchen table, tipped his head at her mother, then tossed a questioning look in her direction. “Well, when you find out the details, be sure to let me know.” Sounding sarcastic and nothing like the hero whom she’d just blown the mind of. He shifted his gaze back to her mother. “Donna, now that you’re home, I’ll be saying good-night.” He glanced back at Shelby. “I’m glad Benjamin’s feeling better, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then.” And he was gone.
She couldn’t let this be the way they ended their night, so she followed him out to his car. “Please don’t leave like this.”
“How else should I leave? You could have at least warned me that you were already looking for another job, before…” He stopped himself.
“Before what?” She hoped he’d say before I fell in love with you again. But that was her fantasy, and her news was clearly disturbing to him, and she’d killed their moment by blurting it out.
“Before I got attached to Benjamin.”
His reply made her pause. “I’m not going anywhere. It’s just an offer.” Damn, she sounded defensive. “I don’t know anything yet.”
“Yet.” Sarcastic. He opened his car door and slid behind the wheel.
With all the hoopla of the night, she hadn’t given a thought to the repercussions of Mr. Black’s job offer. Only that he had. Or how the news would come off to Conor. Using the full power of his muscle car, he sped off. Good grief, how had she not thought of him?
Shaken, swinging to the dark side of the pendulum, she limped back to her house, the weight of a dozen bricks on her shoulders and with her stomach sour and twisting.
*
The next afternoon, Conor dressed for his evening shift, fatigued from lack of sleep. He’d had a night filled with tossing and turning and crazy dreams, one so vivid he remembered every part.
Conor cuddled Shelby closer. She’d twitched in her sleep, so he gathered her near, spooned with her, aching over losing her again. How many more times would he have to say goodbye?
Then it was back to that July six years ago.
They’d spent the best summer of their lives together in Sandpiper Beach. He’d dropped his guard, let the full force of her invade him, helpless against her. And oh, what a sweet summer it had been. Then she’d gotten the call from New York. A job she’d forgotten applying for had come through. It hadn’t taken five seconds for her to make the decision. “I’ll be there!” she’d said, without needing to consult anyone. Him.
Rattled, his h
eart shredding, he’d played it cool. “How great is that?” But in his dream he was overdoing it, laughing and pretending it was the greatest news he’d ever heard.
He’d never hold her back, turn her into the unfulfilled person his own mother had become. He’d heard the truth that day with the conversation between his grandfather and mother. “You can’t have everything you want,” Grandda had warned.
“It’s one weekend. A chance to show my work, that’s all.” Mom had defended her desire to leave three little boys home with their dad and grandda for two days to share her beautiful paintings with potential buyers.
“We have a hotel to run.” Padraig took the pragmatic approach, showing no mercy for his daughter-in-law, his father nowhere in sight. In the dream he looked nearly demonic, not at all like the fanciful old man talking about selkies that he was these days.
In the next part of the dream, his mother became withdrawn and quiet. He loved her and it hurt to see the sadness. Was he the only one to notice? Even at eight or nine he could tell when someone’s wish had been stepped on.
Then, as dreams do, it flipped back to Shelby.
“Do you want me to go?” She asked, seeming both worried and hurt.
“You have to. It’s what you want. Go for it.” Again, he seemed clownish, overdoing the enthusiasm.
He’d never be the one to hold her back. Even if it meant breaking his heart.
As they walked at sunset and approached the second lifeguard station on Sandpiper Beach, he had the world’s greatest idea, one that would solve all of life’s problems. “Let’s make a promise.”
After the most complicated and disjointed dream he’d ever had, he woke up, his head aching and foggy, except for one clear thought.
Shelby had broken their promise. Now she’d probably be leaving Sandpiper Beach, too.
Hadn’t he sworn he’d never let this happen again? He knew the rule book backward and forward on this. She pursues her dream, he encourages her, she leaves town, they promise to stay in touch, they don’t, he loses her. And once more, he was going to let it happen because he never wanted to hold her back. What a fool.
Reunited with the Sheriff Page 16
