The Haven Point mayor was a woman of many facets—the crisply efficient businesswoman, the enthusiastic cheerleader for her town, the devoted sister. He was very much enjoying the process of discovering all these mysterious nooks and crannies of her.
He certainly found her attractive. Something about those big eyes and her high cheekbones—not to mention the way she became so adorably flustered every time he touched her—slid around and through him like that warm summer breeze.
She felt it, too. He could see it in the way she avoided his gaze and the way her fingers trembled just a little. That was possibly the most enticing thing about the whole situation. She wanted him and she didn’t want to want him.
He sighed, losing a little of his enjoyment of the moment. He couldn’t—and, more important, wouldn’t—do anything to pursue it. She might be fighting an unwilling attraction to him right now, but that wouldn’t last five seconds after he told her he had absolutely no intention of ever letting Aidan put a Caine Tech facility here.
He decided not to worry about that. Wasn’t Aidan always pushing him to live in the moment? Right now he had no desire to waste a perfectly gorgeous summer afternoon beside a mountain lake by letting tomorrow’s worry ruin things for him.
“The boat show portion of Lake Haven Days looks like it’s grown a bit more than I would have expected,” he said as they approached the marina.
“Kind of surprising, I know. You would think the wooden boat festival might have died off after you closed Kilpatrick Boatworks, but if anything it’s grown exponentially in the last five years as your family’s boats and other companies’ wooden crafts have grown in popularity.”
He refused to let her make him feel guilty about what had come down to a business decision.
“They’re actually collector’s items these days,” she went on. “But then, I guess you know that. You’ve got a Killy yourself.”
“Yes. It wasn’t easy to find, either.”
“The people of Haven Point made good boats,” she said simply. “People who worked at the boatworks took pride in their craft.”
He took pride in it, too, the legacy from his grandfather and his great-grandfather. Taking his Delphine out on the water gave him a thrill every single time.
“With the new popularity, have you thought about reopening the boatworks on a limited basis? Maybe reduce the number of boats you produced, in order to maintain that exclusivity. You’ve still got a building over on the south end of the lake.”
“I don’t own the building anymore,” he reminded her gently. “Aidan does. You would have to ask him.”
She made an impatient gesture. “You’re the Kilpatrick. You must still own the rights to the company.”
He did. He still owned whatever was left of Kilpatrick Boatworks and if he were so inclined, he could probably lease the building from Aidan for a nominal fee.
The idea was ridiculous, though. He was the chief operating officer at Caine Tech, one of the largest tech companies in the world. He didn’t have time to be playing around with an obsolete boatworks in a tiny town he didn’t even like to visit anymore.
As they neared the marina and the viewing area—more bleachers, probably borrowed from the high school—he pushed the idea completely out of his head as completely unreasonable.
Again, McKenzie seemed to know everyone in town. She stopped at least a half-dozen times to chat, always with that bright, sunny smile that drew people to her like iron shavings to a magnet.
They were making their way slowly to the bleachers when McKenzie suddenly pointed. “Look! Isn’t that your mother?”
He glanced over and discovered Lydia standing with a group of people—Doc Warrick, Ben’s aunt Janet and her husband, his uncle Boyd.
An outlandish hat with a broad white brim decorated with purple and yellow hats perched atop Lydia’s perfect hair, making her look as if she were on her way to the Kentucky Derby, not the Lake Haven Wooden Boat Festival.
As usual, she looked young and pretty, far too young to have a thirty-four-year-old son.
“That’s my mom,” he answered, filled with the usual chaotic mix of resentment, love and sadness.
“I have to find out where she got that fabulous hat,” McKenzie declared.
Before he could suggest otherwise, she took off toward the group. He figured he could either stand here like an idiot or head in that direction after her.
He didn’t really have much choice, did he? It was probably too late for him to take off for his rental house, grab the keys to his own Killy and take off with Hondo for an afternoon lake cruise.
With a sigh, he followed McKenzie toward his mother.
He knew the moment Lydia spotted him. Her eyes widened for an instant then softened with a deep emotion that left him feeling restless.
He also knew the instant she realized he and McKenzie had come together. The soft yearning in her eyes switched to something curious and speculative. Yeah, he wasn’t crazy about seeing that, either.
“Darling! And Mayor Shaw. Hello!”
He dutifully leaned in and kissed her cheek and was immediately enveloped with the familiar scent of her.
When he drew away, he kissed his aunt’s cheek and hugged his uncle, earning a lecture from the former about how disappointed she was that he hadn’t come to visit while he was in town. He managed to deflect it, then turned to shake hands with Dr. Warrick, who looked at him with that same unnerving intensity as always.
What was it with the man?
“Wonderful parade this morning,” Dr. Warrick said to McKenzie with a smile. “Every year I think it can’t get any better and every year I’m proved wrong.”
“No pressure for next year, right?” She smiled warmly at the doctor. They were obviously fond of each other, which he somehow didn’t find surprising.
They shared a few common traits, Ben suddenly realized. Doc Warrick had the same warm, approachable mien that made people want to spill out all their troubles. In McKenzie’s case, he had the impression from the short time he spent in her company that people not only wanted to spill their troubles to her but to also hand them over for her to handle.
“I sure wish Shelter Springs had something like Lake Haven Days,” his aunt said. “Our festival is ridiculous compared to this. Lake Days. We barely even have a parade.”
“You’re always welcome at the Haven Point celebration,” McKenzie said.
A starter pistol suddenly went off with a sharp report and they all looked out to the lake.
“Oh, it looks like the regatta is starting,” his mother said, stating the obvious. “We were about to find seats. We would love you both to join us!”
He wanted to say no but he didn’t know how when everyone looked so eager.
To his great surprise, McKenzie came to his rescue. Apparently she saw him as just one more person who needed her help.
“We can stay for a few moments, but I’m afraid we both have other obligations. Today is a pretty busy day for me, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
“McKenzie is the mayor of Haven Point,” Doc Warrick explained to Ben’s aunt and uncle, who were looking a little confused.
“You must have so many responsibilities during Lake Haven Days,” Lydia said with a sympathetic smile.
Before Lily got so sick, his mother had been one of the social leaders of the town, he suddenly remembered. As the wife of the town’s largest employer, she had served on dozens of committees. Garden clubs, charity events, golf fund-raisers.
After Lily’s diagnosis, his mother had walked away from everything to take care of his sister. Driving her to appointments in Boise, doing breathing treatments with her, staying overnight in her room whenever she was in the hospital. He loved and admired his mother for that—something he had never once told her, he realized, feeling suddenl
y small and selfish.
“Yes. Everybody seems to want the mayor to show up to this event or that. I promised Coach Jones and the kids I would show up at their soccer tournament and then, of course, I have obligations at the barbecue and Dutch-oven dinner in town.”
“Nice of you to help the mayor carry out her duties, son,” Doc Warrick said with an approving smile.
“Yes. So nice,” Lydia echoed.
He really didn’t like that speculative gleam in his mother’s eyes. He didn’t want anyone—especially not Lydia—thinking there was something brewing between him and McKenzie.
Okay, there might be, but he didn’t want his mother thinking about it.
To his relief, the boat races quickly captured everyone’s attention. He shifted to a more comfortable spot on the bleachers—if that was possible—and enjoyed the sunlight gleaming off polished wooden hulls and the water rippling away in their wake.
After several moments of being engrossed by the action he became distracted by his mother’s conversation with McKenzie.
“I’ve been thinking a great deal about you since I saw you the other day,” said his mother.
“Oh?”
Lydia captured the mayor’s slim but capable hand. “You were such a good friend to our Lily. I’ve never forgotten it, in all these years. She didn’t have all that many, you know. It was hard for some of the girls, especially in later years when it became more difficult for Lily to hike and ride bikes and swim in the lake and all the other things young people like to do.”
McKenzie gave a strained smile, looking uncomfortable. His mother apparently didn’t notice.
“I cannot tell you how much it meant to me when you would come to Snow Angel Cove so often, just to sit and talk to her, especially near the end when she was so ill.”
“I cared a great deal about Lily,” McKenzie murmured. “It wasn’t a one-sided friendship, believe me. She was very wise and helped me through some pretty hard times. She always had such a wonderful attitude and I learned so very much from watching the grace and strength she showed in dealing with the difficult hand she had been dealt. I became a much better person because of her. I want you to know, I still miss her and think of her often.”
“Oh, my dear. Thank you for saying that.” His mother’s eyes dampened and to his embarrassment, Ben’s felt that way, too, before he firmed his jaw and willed away the emotion.
He had adored his younger sister. She had been sweet and funny, smart and compassionate. He often thought how very unfair it was that such a wonderful soul had been afflicted with a deadly disease.
The reality of her cystic fibrosis and the particularly deadly version of her particular variation of it had been like another member of their family, inescapable and always present.
By the time she died, his family had been held together by that reality and nothing else. He had left Haven Point right after the funeral, graduating from high school a month early and taking off to California, where he already had a scholarship at Cal Poly.
His mother had filed for divorce weeks later and moved out, leaving Joe alone at Snow Angel Cove with all the ghosts.
He pushed away the memories, yet another thing he didn’t want to deal with today.
He preferred to think of his sister as she had been before those last terrible years of the illness, teasing and kind, always quick to comfort him after Joe would go on the attack.
A cell phone suddenly rang out. McKenzie’s, he realized, when she pulled it out of her pocket.
“Hi, Anita,” she said. Her assistant at city hall, he remembered from the breakfast earlier in the week, a battle-ax with salt-and-pepper hair and a stare that could likely bend metal.
“Yes,” McKenzie said. “The check is all written out. It’s in my desk drawer. I assumed we could mail it next week.”
She listened. “Really? They’re being that way about it after we’ve used them for our fireworks for fifteen years? No, it’s not your fault, Anita, although this is exactly why I wanted you to have the key to my desk. Yes. I can be there in ten minutes. I’m just at the marina. Tell them to relax.”
She listened to the conversation for a moment more. Apparently Anita wanted to give her an earful.
“It’s fine, I promise,” McKenzie finally said. “Thanks. Sorry you had to deal with it. You’re a rock star, my friend. See you in a few.”
She was a good leader, he thought. Calm in a crisis, supportive and encouraging. He wouldn’t mind having her on his team at Caine Tech—if not for this inconvenient heat that sizzled under his skin when she was near.
“I’ve got to run,” she said after she hung up. “I’m really sorry.”
He rose from the bleachers and reached a hand to help her up. “No problem. I’ll walk you back to the city offices.”
“That’s really not necessary if you want to stay here and watch the races a little longer. We can meet up for the barbecue later.”
“I’ll walk you back,” he said firmly. He also was used to being in charge, which made him wonder what the two of them would be like in the bedroom—not exactly the appropriate image when his mother was sitting a few feet away.
“I’m sorry you have to go,” Lydia said, with a disappointed look.
“It can’t be helped,” Ben said. “Goodbye. It was good to see you.”
It wasn’t a lie, he was a little surprised to realize. She looked fresh and lovely in the afternoon sun, so confident and happy that he still had a hard time reconciling her to the woman who had been beaten to dust—emotionally, not physically—by his bastard of a father.
He leaned in and kissed his mother’s cheek, then his aunt’s, and finally shook hands with his uncle and Russ Warrick.
“Lovely to see you, my dear.” Lydia smiled at McKenzie and clasped one of her hands in both of her own. “We must go to lunch before I go back to San Diego next month.”
“Yes. I would enjoy that.”
“And you.” She gave him a steady look. “You still haven’t told me when we can get together for dinner before you leave.”
He couldn’t avoid it, he knew, so he might as well quit trying. Maybe it wouldn’t be as awkward and uncomfortable as he feared—at least if he could figure out a way to drag McKenzie along. Somehow she made everything seem more palatable.
“What about next Friday night? I’m supposed to be leaving the day after that.”
“Perfect. It’s a date.”
She looked painfully happy at the prospect and he tried not to let that fill him with guilt as he and McKenzie headed off on the trail around the lake that led them back downtown.
CHAPTER NINE
LYDIA WATCHED HER SON walk away, so tall and handsome, along with that sweet McKenzie Shaw. They were talking as they walked, Ben’s head down to hear what McKenzie was saying. Though she couldn’t see his face, she sensed he was smiling, something he did far too seldom.
She didn’t think she was imagining the little hint of sizzle between them, like a pot of water just beginning a low boil.
How long had that been going on? She had no idea. She and her son lived completely different lives, bifurcated by history and pain and all the mistakes she had made. He answered her calls and her emails but was always careful to keep a safe, protective distance between them.
She sighed as the color and beauty of the day seemed to leach away a little, like sheets left too long to flap under the sun. She had been so looking forward to this day, ever since Russ asked her to spend it with him. She had dressed and put on her makeup and fixed her hair, as giddy as she had been at seventeen whenever he would come home from college to take her out.
This had seemed the chance for a new start between them. He had mourned his dear wife for a year and she had been alone for so very long.
He had even kissed her cheek
when he picked her up, a casual, friendly sort of gesture that had still made her shiver.
For the first time in forever, she had started to let herself dream again, to imagine having someone in her life. Not just anyone, but Russ. The man she had loved since she was a young, silly girl, enamored of an older college boy.
Now, seeing Ben, she was reminded again of all the secrets and lies between them.
Her breathing suddenly felt ragged and tight and emotions crowded her throat.
She and Russ could never be together. She had ruined any chance of that by the foolish choices she had made so long ago.
She wrapped her arms around herself, chilled suddenly, though the July sun was warm on her shoulders.
“Are you all right?”
He was so concerned, so solicitous, and she felt tiny and worthless in contrast.
“Do you mind taking me home? I’m sorry. I suddenly have a terrible headache. I’m not sure if it’s the sun or the excitement or perhaps the noise, but my head is killing me.”
Disappointment flickered in his eyes but he hid it quickly. He had become very good at hiding his emotions from her over the years. Had he just become better at it or was she merely worse at reading him?
“I don’t mind at all. Are you all right to walk to the car or would you like me to go get it and pick you up here?”
“I can walk. Thank you.”
“A little movement might help you feel better.”
He rose and helped her up from the uncomfortable metal bleachers, then tucked her arm in the crook of his elbow and strolled toward his luxury SUV, parked a block away.
Feeling perfectly wretched, she said little as they walked along the busy sidewalk. He seemed lost in thought as well, his mouth tight. He was probably regretting ever asking her out. A fine date she made, turning into a mess after only a few hours.
He settled her into the passenger seat, then drove back through the Lake Haven Days crowds, along the lake toward Shelter Springs and her condo.
“Ben looks good, doesn’t he?” Russ said.
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