More Than Anything

by Kimberly Lang

  But the biggest surprise of the day? Shelby in a dress.

  Specifically, Shelby in a moss green sweater dress of lightweight cashmere that skimmed down her body, highlighting, but without overly hugging, her curves.

  She’d done something different to her hair, too, giving it soft curls that floated around her face and shoulders.

  And she was wearing lipstick.

  He’d been struck nearly mute at the sight of her carefully making her way down the steps in heeled boots from her apartment earlier, managing only to get out a few indistinct and very inarticulate noises.

  “Not a single word,” she warned. “I told you there was a dress code. If I want to be fed at Gran’s, I have to wear a dress.”

  “Uh . . . I . . . um . . .” While she looked like a different person, her words and her tone were one hundred percent Shelby, which helped him regain his ability to speak. Kind of. But the light scent of perfume that floated off her as she got close shut him right back down.

  Not that there was anything wrong with the way Shelby normally dressed—practical around the marina, and nicer, but comfortable for dinner or outings—but this.

  Damn. He wanted to pet her, tangle his hands in those curls, and smear her lipstick.

  He gave himself a strong shake. “You’re beautiful.”

  He hadn’t meant to sound like such a panting puppy, but the light flush and small smile he got in return were well worth the ding on his pride.

  “Thanks.”

  “I mean . . . Damn, Shelby.”

  The flush deepened, turning her cheeks bright pink, but the smile told him she was flattered, regardless of how she waved away his compliment with, “Let’s not get carried away. It’s just a dress.”

  The woman seriously did not know how good she looked—and the compliments of her family didn’t seem to convince her, either—and even two hours later, he couldn’t stop staring at her.

  “Dude.” Jamie waved a hand in front of his face to get his attention. “Do you really have to drool over my sister?”

  He pretended to consider it before finally nodding. “Yeah, I kinda do.”

  “Could you not be so obvious about it, then?”

  “I’ll try.” He glanced over at Shelby, who was in an animated discussion with her mother and her aunt, gesturing toward the tables. Someone was probably going to have to move them again. Possibly even him.

  “Try harder,” Jamie warned, following Declan’s gaze. Then he sighed. “Good Lord, not the damn tables again. We’re never going to get to eat at this rate. I think next year I’ll suggest renting out the Fellowship Hall at First Methodist. It’ll be easier to fit us all in. I swear, this family is becoming a logistical nightmare.”

  Sure enough, a second later, he and Jamie and two of the younger Tanner cousins were being summoned over. Mrs. Tanner was walking away with a “And tell Eli to get off his phone,” leaving just Shelby to deliver her edict.

  Jamie opened with a preemptive strike. “I’m not moving the tables, Shel. Seriously, this is getting ridiculous.”

  “Then you’ll be taking your plate outside and eating in the yard. Aunt Claire miscounted and we’re three chairs short. If you’ll pull those two tables”—she pointed at her choices—“as far as you can toward the wall, I can put another chair at each end of that one, and just squeeze another setting in at the big table.”

  “There won’t be room for anyone to actually sit.”

  Shelby looked Jamie up and down like she was measuring him up. “You’re pretty scrawny. I think you’ll fit. You and the younger ones.”

  “I’m not sitting with the Brat Pack.”

  “We don’t want you anyway,” one of the brats in question protested. Declan still didn’t quite know who was who.

  “Why don’t we pull that table over there,” Jamie said, “and—”

  “Because no one will be able to walk through.” Shelby sighed. “Could you not fight me on this, Jamie, and just do it, please.”

  “Shelby’s right,” Declan said, drawing the attention of all four Tanners. “There’s not enough room to do it your way. Shelby’s solution is the better one, space and usage-wise.”

  “I rest my case.” She inclined her head toward the younger two. “Joe, Mason, go grab that table. Jamie will help and Declan can get the extra folding chairs from the back porch.” There were grumbles, but the Tanners dispersed as instructed. “Thanks,” Shelby whispered, giving his hand a squeeze before she walked away.

  It was a small thing, backing Shelby’s call, but he was getting damned tired of watching Shelby let her family roll right over her. With the ease they’d backed down, though, he had to wonder if her family even knew they were doing it.

  He grabbed the chairs and set them where Shelby directed, then watched her as she handed off plates and silverware to one of her cousins to set the places before she went back into the kitchen. The heels on her boots gave a sway to her walk that wasn’t normally there, and it hypnotized him. Jaime threw an elbow into his ribs. “Seriously, man. Knock it off.”

  But Declan couldn’t help it.

  * * *

  Maybe wearing a dress hadn’t been a bad thing today. Beyond the fact that not doing so would have caused a headache she didn’t need, the lack of a waistband was a good thing considering how much she’d eaten.

  Declan’s loss of speech had just been a bonus and a boost to her ego. Dresses weren’t her favorite things to wear—though it wasn’t a hardship, either—but this one was her favorite of the bunch. And the way Declan kept staring at her . . . She felt very much the femme fatale today.

  It probably wasn’t an appropriate feeling for a family gathering, but it was so new and unique, she wasn’t going to let an inappropriate time and place smack it down.

  Helena was helping her cover leftover desserts as the boys broke down the tables and chairs, and the moms tidied in the kitchen. It wasn’t a sexist division of work, but a practical one: the kitchen simply wasn’t big enough for too many people to help at one time. The moms did the first round of cleanup, and the dads went in for the second set of dishes and pans. Shelby was perfectly happy with her job assignment—even if it did put temptation right in front of her for a nibble here and a nibble there, which her waist really didn’t need and she would definitely regret later when she was physically ill from sugar overload.

  “So Molly says you’re thinking about opening up a coffee shop at the marina and maybe partnering with her?”

  Shelby nearly dropped the pie she was holding. Damn it. She should have known Molly would mention that to Helena. She looked around to see if anyone had overheard. “Maybe, but you haven’t said anything to Ryan about this yet, have you?”

  Helena looked a little surprised. “No, why?”

  “Because it’s just an idea and there’s no need to get everyone all worked up over an idea.”

  “I think it’s a great idea.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. Absolutely. No offense, but the whole place needs a face-lift and a welcome into this century. And a coffee shop is a great idea. Do you think your dad will go for it?”

  “That’s the thing. I don’t really know. He’s not real big on making changes he doesn’t have to. He usually defaults to an ‘if it ain’t broke . . .’ mentality.”

  “But you’re in charge now.”

  “Supposedly,” she muttered. At Helena’s sharp look, she added, “He said he was going to retire, yet he’s there almost every day. So no, I’m not really in charge.”

  Helena shook her head. “This whole family is stubborn.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Well, honey, you’re the worst of the lot.” Helena grinned and patted her on the shoulder. “Just out-stubborn them.”

  Declan had said almost the same thing. She was beginning to wonder if it really was a com
pliment. “I wish it could be that easy.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. It’s not just a matter of convincing them that it needs to be done. There’s family history there. And lots of family memories. It feels almost disrespectful to tear up and redo the place.”

  “I promise you, your grandfather will not haunt you for improving his business. Now, maybe if you tore the place down and built a brothel on the site—”

  “That would kill my grandmother,” Shelby finished for her with a laugh, and Helena laughed with her. “And it just feels impertinent.”

  “Impertinent? How?”

  “Who am I to step in and tell my father, who’s been running not only the marina but also other businesses for longer than I’ve been alive, that what he’s built isn’t good enough? That I somehow know more than he does?”

  “You’re not telling him it’s not good enough. You’re telling him how it could be better. There’s a difference.” Helena sounded so reasonable. And while Declan had said something similar, Helena knew her family, so her opinion carried a little more weight there. “If you’re going to be the future of the Tanner marina, you need to start visualizing that future.”

  “That’s what Declan said.”

  “Well, listen to him if you won’t listen to me. That kind of stuff is right in his wheelhouse.”

  She wanted to. “Maybe. Just don’t say anything to Ryan about this, okay? It’s hard enough figuring out how to broach this with Dad. I really don’t want to fight him and the others just yet.”

  Helena blinked. “Fight them?”

  “Well, listen to them argue with me about it.”

  Helena took the pie out of Shelby’s hands and led her over to the settee. “I may be stepping way out of line here—though honestly, it wouldn’t be the first time—but why on earth would you think Ryan or the others would have anything against this idea? Not a one of them has anything to do with that place beyond taking a boat out every now and then.”

  “Jamie has a stake in it.”

  Helena waved that away. “Jamie’s a number cruncher. Do the numbers crunch?”

  “Yeah. They’re a little scary, but they will crunch.”

  “Then that’s all that matters, really. He’ll be easy enough to win over as long as the money’s right. And Ryan . . . Good Lord, that man will take on anything that will improve Magnolia Beach. A nice marina is a selling point, a boon to tourism. Hell, I’m actually surprised he hasn’t been lobbying for that for years already. As for the other boys . . . they can just butt right the hell out.”

  That was easy for Helena to say. She wasn’t in the bloodline, and they were all still kind of scared of her. “None of them have the time or inclination to get involved with a project like this.”

  “Who’s asking them to?”

  “Well . . . they won’t trust me to do it.” The admission stung to say out loud. “You’ve seen how they hover and—”

  “You really need to break them of that habit. You’re dyslexic. Not twelve.”

  Damn. Helena did not pull her punches. “But they’ve spent their lives either hovering over me or bailing me out of whatever mess I’ve gotten myself into. Every now and then I run an idea up the flagpole and none of them salute it. In fact, they shut it down. You were there last time I tried. When I pitched us taking on more live-aboards,” she reminded her. “You heard them.”

  Helena seemed to think about it. Then she rolled her eyes and sighed. “I had no idea. I thought that was just Tanner smack talk. And honestly, I doubt any of them even realized you were serious.”

  “Because they don’t take me seriously.”

  “And they never will unless you make them.” Helena sighed. “Just for the record, I think it’s a great idea. I will back your play. And if you and Molly can partner up, that’s all the better. I won’t say anything to Ryan, but I think you should. Get him in your corner first, if that makes you feel better, before you go to your dad. Even the legendary stubbornness of the Tanner family has to buckle under the weight of a sound business plan.”

  A little spark of confidence lit up in her chest. “Declan said something similar, you know.”

  “Then he’s a smart guy. I like him.”

  “I do, too.”

  Helena blinked, then her face softened into something on the edge of sadness. “Oh.”

  “Helena? What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “Well, it’s obviously something.” Helena seemed very unsure, even unwilling, to speak, which was so completely un-Helena-like that Shelby started to worry. “What?”

  “It’s just that I get it now. Why you tried to break me and Ryan up.”

  She wanted to be past this. “I don’t know how I can apologize . . .”

  Helena held up a hand. “That’s not it. I’ve accepted your apology. We’re good, and I’m over it. I just didn’t really get it until now.”

  “Get what?”

  “The why.” Helena sighed. “You said you were worried that after I left, Ryan would have a hard time finding a local girl who’d measure up.”

  “Yeah. But he didn’t have to. It worked out fine.”

  “But what are you going to do?”

  Helena said the words quietly, gently even, but they felt like a bucket of cold water dumped over her head. More than anything, that surprised her. She’d known, intellectually, at least, that Declan was leaving in another month. It was just another adjective describing him—brown hair, green eyes, architect, about to move to Miami. And while she’d had the occasional pang about that, it seemed perfectly natural. People who left would always be missed by the ones who didn’t.

  But now . . . suddenly it was real.

  And it put an empty feeling in her chest.

  Uh-oh.

  “I’m going to miss him a lot,” Shelby finally said. “But I knew it was only temporary going in.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  It wasn’t like Declan was the only person she’d ever known who’d ever moved away. Lots of people did—for love, for money, or just for excitement. Magnolia Beach wasn’t for everyone.

  “I thought the same thing,” Helena added. “So did Ryan, for that matter.”

  But Helena was from here; moving back simply meant coming home, even if it had been fraught with its own difficulties. And she—but not the rest of the family—knew that Ryan had considered a move to Atlanta. But Ryan’s job was completely portable, and he’d fit in anywhere he wanted.

  That was not the case with Declan. Or her.

  For many reasons.

  Reasons she really didn’t want to think about. Not now, and certainly not in front of Helena.

  So she shrugged it off, and put a big smile on her face. “It’ll be fine.”

  Helena nodded. “I’m sure it will.” But there was something in her voice that clearly said she wasn’t convinced.

  And Shelby suddenly needed a lot more pie.

  Chapter 14

  Shelby had been oddly quiet, even distracted, after leaving her grandmother’s on Thursday, but whatever had been bothering her seemed to pass overnight, because she woke the next morning full of nearly manic Christmas spirit. Declan spent most of the day stringing Christmas lights with Shelby around the marina and dragging a much-larger-than-she-needed tree into her apartment. The tree he could understand, but things were so slow around the marina, he wasn’t sure who exactly the lights were meant to impress.

  But he had to admit they looked nice and added an air of festivity. He even hung a few on the Lady Jane. He drew the line at a tree, though. There wasn’t nearly enough room in the cabin, even if Shelby didn’t see a problem with losing a good portion of her own living space to a tree.

  And while he could appreciate the control of the citizens of Magnolia Beac
h not to rush the Christmas season too early, they certainly embraced it in all its glory before the Thanksgiving leftovers were fully cold.

  There might not be a single flake of real snow and some days were still warm enough not to require a jacket, but that didn’t stop Magnolia Beach from turning itself into an outpost of the North Pole, with enough Christmas lights to make the place visible from the space station, random acts of caroling, and candy canes being handed out by everyone—and that was just by Saturday. By Sunday, the two main churches had competing crèches on their lawns, Santa had a massive chair set up at the post office for pictures, and everyone seemed to be awash in so much peace, love, and joy that he felt like he’d stepped into a greeting card.

  And then on Monday, Shelby was out servicing boats wearing a Santa hat on her head.

  “Really?” he asked.

  “Yes, indeed,” she answered without even a hint of self-consciousness. “I also have an elf hat and reindeer antlers. ’Tis the season, you know.”

  Later that afternoon, he found a brand-new Santa hat hanging off the door to the Lady Jane’s cabin. To his very great surprise—and a little bit of ironic shame—he put it on and wore it to the Shop-n-Save that afternoon, where he received many seemingly sincere compliments from the other shoppers.

  You kinda had to love this place.

  But then the cashier gave him a knowing smile as she rang up the steaks and sides and the bottle of wine that was obviously going to become a nice dinner for two and then winked as she told him to have a good evening.

  That part was still a little unsettling and something he just couldn’t get used to. Especially when she added, “Say hi to Shelby for me,” like that wasn’t weird. He had no idea who that person was—or that she’d know who he was, either. No wonder Shelby had sent him out of town to buy condoms.

  He was pulling back into the parking lot at the marina when his phone rang. That happened so rarely these days that it jarred him, and the number on the screen was unfamiliar—and not the South Alabama area code.

  “Mr. Hyde? This is Leslie from the leasing office at Curran Towers. I have good news for you.”