Cindy Miles - About That Kiss

Just then, a thundering of footfall burst from the hallway, and Willa came to a screeching halt before him. The little girl wore what appeared to be an old-fashioned dress, a faded, old cream-colored thing with lace and ribbons. And the sparkly fairy wings, of course, accompanied by a pair of cowboy boots. He lifted one eyebrow.

“Nice dress,” he stated.

Willa’s grin exposed all of her straight little teeth. “My mama got it for me in a special shop that sells only really old things,” she informed Nathan. “That’s why it looks so yellow. And it cost ten whole dollars.”

Nathan cocked his head and inspected the aged material. “Hmm. That’s a pretty good deal. It looks at least a hundred years old.”

Willa’s grin widened. “You think so? Mama, did you hear that?” She turned as Sean walked into the room. “Captain Nathan says my fairy dress is at least a hundred years old!”

Nathan rose and his eyes rested on Sean’s. “That’s why it looks yellow,” he added, and threw her a grin. It felt awkward. Mainly because the look on her face spoke volumes. As in, she seriously didn’t want to be going with him to supper. A house full of strangers. He didn’t blame her, though. He imagined she’d rather stay out here, alone with her daughter, and kick around some ultimate pinecone. Whatever that meant.

Nathan then noticed that Sean had changed into a sleeveless sundress, white with little flowers all over it, falling to just above her knees and tied at the waist. On her feet she wore brown sandals. He realized how slender she was. And with her short dark hair and wide hazel eyes, she kind of looked like a pixie. A very pretty pixie. He’d keep that to himself, though.

“All right, well,” he said. “Let’s go meet the king.”

CHAPTER FOUR

HAD SHE LOST all her good sense? Why on earth had she caved to Willa’s pleas?

She knew why. It wasn’t as big of a mystery as she tried to make herself believe. Willa’s happiness, the desire to stretch out her daughter’s carefree childhood for as long as she could. That was why. And, she admitted only to herself, Nathan connected with Willa. And Willa responded to that connection in such a positive way. Those big blue eyes lit up when Nathan came around, or when he passed their dock on his pirate ship. Despite the knowledge that, at some point, she and Willa would have to leave Cassabaw, Sean just didn’t feel like disappointing a five-year-old. Of depriving her of a little bit of normalcy, like a backyard barbecue with nice people. The fact that facing a handful of strangers clawed at her stomach in familiar way that usually meant back off, keep your distance.

Yet here she was with her daughter, sitting in an old pickup truck heading to supper. Not backing off. Not keeping her distance. With strangers.

Sean listened to Willa’s nonstop chatter with Nathan as he maneuvered down the crushed-shell-and-dirt path of their drive. At the end, he turned left onto the little coastal road, shrouded in oaks and Spanish moss, and shifted, metal grating and the truck giving a good jolt each and every time it went into a higher gear. Willa laughed, thinking it hugely hilarious. Sean’s head banged twice against the window.

Quietly, she observed.

Looked. Listened. And observed.

Classic rock played on the radio. The interior of the truck held an aged smell, but was clean. From the corner of her eye, Sean noticed the black T-shirt Nathan wore snugged tightly around his biceps as he held the truck’s wheel. Thick veins snaked over his hands, around his golden-skinned arms. She also noticed that around his neck he wore a leather cord with a medallion of...something. Made of silver. And his hair, bleached and weathered by the sun, pulled snuggly back from his face in a ponytail. Dark shades covered his unusual green eyes. Cautiously, she turned her head, ever so slightly, to get a better view of his profile, and when she did she noticed a silver scar jutting through his top lip.

Suddenly, those lips turned up at the corners, and on closer inspection she noticed Nathan had glanced her way.

“Taking inventory?” he asked.

“What’s inventory?” Willa echoed.

Nathan’s grin widened. “It means your mama was studying me,” he said.

Embarrassment heated Sean’s cheeks. “I was not.”

That only made Nathan chuckle.

“My mama studies everybody,” Willa said. “To make sure they’re not serial killers or anything.” Willa glanced at her. “Right, Mama?”

“Willa,” Sean scolded softly. “You don’t have to tell everyone our secrets, do you?”

Willa squinted as she gave that some thought. “Nope. I guess not. Just Captain Nathan.”

Sean’s gaze darted toward Nathan, whose attention was fixed straight ahead on the road, but his lips twitched.

He might be amused by Willa, but her exuberance and openness presented a real issue for Sean. Her mind raced. No doubt Nathan’s family—Nathan himself, more than likely—would ask questions. She’d become quite good at firing off appropriate answers without looking like she was totally making them up. But the older Willa got, the harder it was to bat off personal questions. Her daughter had eyes like a hawk and a sharp mind that missed absolutely nothing. Just like she had with Nathan, Willa would call Sean out on anything she believed to be untrue. Despite Sean’s attempts at coaching and teaching, her daughter seemed to be without filter. One never knew what would emerge from the little girl’s too-mature-for-her-age mind and mouth.

Sean needed to be extra careful. Despite the challenge presented by Willa’s increasing awareness, Sean could not afford to relax her vigilance. Which brought her mind back to the question: Why on earth had she agreed to accompany Nathan to a strange place with strange people and a million innocent yet detrimental questions?

Sean glanced at Willa, who chattered about the fireflies that came out at night. Her daughter looked up suddenly, her blue eyes soft as she grinned. Sean smiled back.

That’s why. Her precious daughter. It was the one thing Sean had done right in her life. She wanted to somehow, someway keep a shred of balance alive in Willa. To allow her gracious memories of a magical childhood that she could look back on later in life, fond recollections that could bring a smile or make her heart feel glad. Things Sean could only imagine.

She prayed she could keep it up.

Nathan slowed the truck and turned into a long drive that led back to the river—much like at her and Willa’s place. It made sense, she thought, seeing how they were river neighbors. A large, stilted river house with a wide wraparound porch sat within an opening among the trees.

“Whoa,” Willa said in a low voice. “You live here?”

“Yep. Grew up here,” Nathan answered. “Come on,” he continued, and climbed out of the truck. “Let’s go meet everyone.”

“Come on, Mama!” Willa yelled, and followed Nathan out of his side of the truck.

With a deep breath to steady her nerves, Sean climbed out. Giant oaks laden with long Spanish moss formed a canopy over the house and yard. A large metal building stood off to one side farther back. And an arbor of some sorts sat to the left of the porch. Big blooms of hydrangea graced each side of the porch steps. On the porch an old man was sitting in a rocking chair, then stood slowly.

Like some Norman Rockwell picture.

Walking around the front of the truck, Sean joined Nathan and Willa. He watched her closely. Crickets and cicadas chirped, filling the air with bug-song. Somewhere close, the saw grass rustled as a breeze rushed through the salt marsh. In the distance, oyster shoals bubbled in the low-tide mud.

Noises that, only recently, had become familiar to her.