Читать книгу The Way To A Soldier's Heart - Gina Wilkins - Страница 11

CHAPTER TWO

“SO WE’RE AGREED? We’ll stay with the schedule we have now at least through the end of the year?”

Kristen Boyd nodded in response to Elle’s question, but her faraway expression made Elle wonder if her partner had been paying attention during their Thursday afternoon business meeting. “Kristen? You’re listening, right?”

“What? Oh, right. Yes, the weekend menu is fine with me.”

Elle swiveled in her seat to frown at her partner, who sat next to her at the small desk they shared in the tiny office tucked into a corner of the shop, just off the kitchen. She noted that Kristen’s eyes were clouded and her right hand was tangled in her thick blond curls, a sure sign Kristen’s thoughts were far away.

“We weren’t talking about the menu. We were discussing the weekend work schedule. DeShawn wants to work an extra hour this Sunday to make up for the time he missed during midterms last week. That’s okay with you, right?”

Kristen blinked. “Oh. Of course. I’ll keep him busy prepping for Monday.”

After hesitating a moment, Elle asked, “You’re okay, right? Should I be worried?”

Slumping a little in her chair, her partner shrugged. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t blow me off, Kris. I can certainly tell by now when you aren’t happy.”

Elle had considered herself incredibly lucky when she and her lifelong best friend had finally been able to start this business together three years ago. With Elle’s then-husband, Glenn, finally finishing law school and their finances looking promising, it had seemed an ideal time to start their family, as well. And then Glenn had blindsided her by asking for a divorce.

Other than her mother, Kristen had been Elle’s biggest supporter during that rough time. Elle was trying to do the same now that her friend had gone through a painful breakup, but Kristen kept pushing her away, saying she needed time to deal on her own. Which was fine, of course. Fully understandable. And yet...

Kristen’s emotional turmoil was beginning to interfere with their business. Elle wondered if she should push her partner to open up to her. If Kristen wanted out of the business, she needed to say so—though the very thought of losing the shop made Elle’s heart ache.

“I’d really like to know what you’re planning, Kristen,” she said bluntly. “I know you’re still hurting over the breakup with Casey, but is there something else, too? Are you unhappy with the work schedules? With any of the decisions we’ve made lately? You’re okay financially?”

Though Kristen supplemented her three-day-a-week coffee shop schedule by singing in a local club on Friday nights, Elle had no other income outside The Perkery. Other than their divorce settlement, she received no support from Glenn. Elle had adopted Charlotte on her own after he backed out of the proceedings, so he didn’t owe her child support. He had also openly expressed his doubts that Elle and Kristen would succeed with their fledging business. Elle had been proud every single month the books had balanced, almost all of them now. It had been both a matter of vindication and of personal fulfillment for her.

Still, it would be difficult, if not impossible, for her to buy out Kristen’s share. If Kristen had decided she wanted out, it was possible they’d have to sell the business. And while Elle told herself she would survive the disappointment and start over, the prospect hurt.

“I’m fine,” Kristen repeated, her voice almost mechanical. “Like you said, I’m still stinging over Casey, but I’ll get over it. As for money, I’m okay. Casey and I maybe overindulged in a few luxuries while we were together, but I’ll get my part paid off. The club’s been after me to perform on both Friday and Saturday nights. Not a lot of extra cash, but it’s something.”

She drew a deep breath before adding, “Maybe I get a little restless sometimes, but that’s natural, right? I mean, especially after a bad breakup. I find myself thinking maybe a change of scenery would help. Maybe it would be good to start all over someplace new. But then I tell myself I’m just trying to run away from the pain, and it wouldn’t really help.”

Elle found little reassurance in those words. Certainly not in her friend’s distant, unhappy expression. Telling herself not to dwell on potential problems, she focused instead on Kristen’s pain, wanting to help in whatever way she could. “If you need some time off, you know you only have to say so. You don’t have to wait until your scheduled vacation time. Mom and I are willing to work with you and your crew, and we can always add a couple of temp workers if necessary.”

“I’ll think about it, but I’ll probably just tough it out. Thanks, Elle,” Kristen added automatically. Her attempt at a smile was simply heartbreaking.

Frustration and genuine concern made Elle’s tone more urgent than she intended. “Don’t let it go too long, okay? Of course I worry about the business, but I’m even more concerned about you. If you need help getting over this from a professional counselor, or just with a nice vacation, you should acknowledge it. Deal with it.”

Kristen forced a smile, though there was a spark of irritation now. “Of course. But let’s just get back to our meeting, okay? So, what did we decide about next week’s soup choices?”

Cautioning herself not to borrow trouble, Elle reached for her tablet computer, deciding it was best to focus on business for now. Which wouldn’t stop her from worrying later.

* * *

SHANE DABBED AT his mouth with a linen napkin Friday after a second meeting with Wind Shadow Resort owner Trevor Farrell. A tall and slim man in his late thirties, with light brown hair and clear blue eyes, Trevor was already quite successful with this, his first resort, and well into plans to open a couple more. After their meeting that morning, he’d invited Shane to join him and another veteran friend for lunch in the resort’s upscale restaurant, Torchlight.

“That was the best lunch I’ve had in a long time,” Shane said to his host.

“I’ll pass along your compliments.” Trevor looked pleased, though he probably heard rave reviews on a daily basis. “Our chef is one of the resort’s greatest assets.”

Walt Becker, Trevor’s friend and attorney, chuckled when he set down his water glass with his right hand. Shane had noted that Walt’s left hand was a prosthetic. Had he been injured in battle? It hadn’t been mentioned, but Shane wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. Looking like the former marine sergeant he was, Walt was gruff, friendly and blunt-spoken. Shane liked him. Liked them both, actually.

“Trev’s threatened to lock down the resort if his chef tries to leave,” Walt commented. “He lost one of his most valued staff when his second-in-command, Adam Scott, left last month to follow his new bride and their son all the way to Seattle. Trev’s still pouting about it.”

Trevor smiled wryly. “Hardly pouting. I’m pleased for Adam and Joanna. Adam has a new management job with a luxury hotel in Seattle. He started two weeks ago. I talked with him yesterday, and he sounded happy. I’m glad about that.”

“You miss having him around,” Walt said. “So do I. But like you, I’m happy for them.”

“Yes, well, you’re practically family. After all, you are still seeing Joanna’s sister,” Trevor teased his friend with a wink. “And I’d be willing to lay money on there being another wedding in the near future.”

Walt didn’t disagree. In fact, Shane thought he looked rather smug at the prospect.

“But we’re being rude.” Trevor turned back to Shane. “I hope you’ve been enjoying your visit, Shane. You said you’re staying in Shorty’s Landing?”

“Yes. Nice little town.”

“It is.”

Walt nodded. “Bubba’s Grill on Salt Marsh Avenue has the best burgers in the area. No offense, Trev, the burgers here are great, but Bubba’s, man.”

Trevor grinned, obviously taking no umbrage. “They are good, I’ll give you that.”

Walt looked at Shane again. “If you’re looking for breakfast, you’ll find good pastries and coffee at The Perkery on Salt Marsh Avenue. I’d say their selection is second only to the ones you’d have here.”

For some reason, Shane felt almost indignant on Elle’s behalf. He couldn’t imagine that Trevor’s pastry chef made anything better than Elle’s chocolate-filled doughnuts.

“I’ve stopped into The Perkery the past couple of days,” he said. “Everything I had was delicious.”

“So, you’d have met Elle and Janet O’Meara,” Trevor commented. He laughed softly before asking, “Did Janet read your palm?”

Remembering that odd first encounter, Shane suppressed a wry grimace. “Not exactly.”

“She’s a sweetheart. Maybe not the most reliable prognosticator, but as kind-hearted a woman as I’ve met. Elle’s great, too, as is her partner, Kristen Boyd. A real asset to their community. Elle spearheads several fund-raisers for local charities. I try to donate on behalf of the resort whenever I can.”

It was encouraging to hear that his niece’s adoptive mother was well respected in the community. Still, Shane wasn’t fully convinced that Charlotte would receive everything she needed as the daughter of a busy, part-owner of a small business that probably operated on a shoestring budget. Not to mention the woman’s self-proclaimed psychic mother. Having been raised by a single parent and a grandmother himself, he was hardly judging those aspects of Charlotte’s life—but was a plastic-fenced play area behind the counter of a coffee shop the best place for a toddler to spend her days? Did she have other children to play with—friends, cousins, neighbors? Enough variety of routine to keep her engaged and learning?

Walt laid his napkin on the table. “I had coffee and a muffin at The Perkery one morning a couple of weeks ago. That little girl of Elle’s is cute as a button. Little heartbreaker in the making, I’m thinking.”

“I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Elle’s daughter.” Trevor reached down to pick up the crutches he’d laid beside his chair when they’d been seated. He’d explained to Shane that he’d been seriously injured in a motorcycle accident in the spring and was just now getting back on his feet after a second operation to repair the damage to his right knee.

Walt rose as their host did. “Well, she’s a sweetheart.”

“What’s her name again?” Trevor asked idly. “I forget.”

“Charlotte,” Shane said before Walt could reply. “Her name is Charlotte.”

It stung that he couldn’t add that the child had been named after her war-hero father. These men would likely understand his pride, but it would require a lot of awkward explanations—ones he couldn’t give before he told Elle. It was rather a relief when the lunch conversation was over and he and Trevor could direct their attention back to a potential business collaboration.

Later that afternoon, after an extensive tour of the resort, Shane was in his car, headed back to his motel. Though he paid attention to his driving, he still contemplated the circumstances in which he’d found himself. His professional reasons for being in the area were genuine. Once he’d tracked Charlotte down, he’d immediately scheduled presentations with local resorts both to justify his stay and because the company always needed new business.

Scanlon Risk Management, Inc., the company started by his father twenty-five years ago, had fallen into a precarious state during his dad’s illness and after his eventual death. Almost before Shane had completely unpacked his duffel after leaving the military, he’d stepped in to help his uncle get the business back onto solid ground. He was gratified that his efforts were paying off, especially if he secured the Wind Shadow Resorts account—an outcome that seemed promising after hours of discussion with Trevor Farrell.

Which brought him back to the primary purpose for his stay in Shorty’s Landing...

He wished he felt better prepared for what was to come. The time had passed so quickly since he’d gotten out of the army. With so much responsibility on his shoulders, it had been difficult to find opportunity to concentrate on his search for Charlotte, though his intention to do so had never wavered.

Charlie’s on-and-off girlfriend, Brittany, had learned of her pregnancy only a few weeks after Charlie had been deployed to Afghanistan. There’d been no doubt that Charlie would have stepped up as a devoted father to his child. During their last phone conversation, Shane had promised he would take care of the child if anything should happen to Charlie. A month later, Charlie had been killed in a helicopter crash in Afghanistan, leaving his family devastated and his pregnant girlfriend stunned and rootless. The grieving family had rallied around Brittany, even though she’d never been particularly receptive to any of them except Shane, whom she’d seemed to like well enough.

But then Shane had been deployed overseas, only three weeks after the birth of his niece. To the distress of his father and grandmother, Brittany had disappeared with the baby only weeks after Shane left the country. A few months later, they’d gotten word that the baby had been placed for adoption and that Brittany wanted no further contact with any member of the Scanlon family.

Shane had vowed then that he would track down his niece. It was the only way he knew to fulfill his promise to Charlie. He owed it to Charlie, to Charlotte and to his dad, who, before he’d died, had asked Shane to keep an eye out for the family in the future. Those promises had weighed heavily on Shane’s shoulders, and he’d done his best to fulfill them.

Figuring it would be difficult to access adoption records, he’d decided to find Brittany and attempt to learn Charlotte’s whereabouts from her. After discovering that Brittany’s estranged family hadn’t heard from her since before Charlotte’s birth, he’d hired a private investigator.

The search had taken longer than he’d have liked. Volatile Brittany had changed her name and her appearance and lost herself in the shadowy New York nightlife, trying to escape the emotional demons that would always haunt her. Still, Shane had found her eventually. After almost a week of meetings with her, of negotiations and promises—and a generous contribution to her finances—she’d grudgingly given him the name of the woman she’d personally selected through an open adoption agency to raise her daughter. Charlie’s daughter.

Shane had vacillated from the start about how to approach Elle—whether to be candid from the onset, or simply hover in the background for a few days, observing and assessing Charlotte’s current circumstances. He knew there was a good chance that Elle would be angry when she learned the truth. That she’d send him on his way with firm instructions to keep his distance from both her and Charlotte. In other words, he’d been a coward—not something a thirty-one-year-old ex-soldier cared to admit.

It certainly complicated matters that his brain seemed to scramble every time Elle smiled. Even had the circumstances of their meeting been different, he would have likely tried to resist her charms. During the hectic months since he’d returned to civilian life, he’d done his best to avoid preventable complications, and a busy single mom definitely fell into that category. His increasingly urgent quest to find his niece was the exception. He’d felt pressured by his grandmother’s declining health and the promises he’d made to his brother and father.

His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he thought back over these past difficult two years since Charlie died. He had to put his attraction to Elle out of his mind, keep his focus on his family. There was only so much a guy could juggle without taking a risk of having it all crash around his feet.

* * *

THE ANNUAL SHORTY’S LANDING Fall Festival was held that Friday evening at Paradise Park, located only a few blocks from The Perkery. Organized by the Chamber of Commerce and funded by donations from local businesses, the Halloween-themed celebration was always a big hit with both kids and adults. Elle’s parents had brought her every year when she was growing up, and she wanted to do the same for her daughter.

Elle and her mom arrived with Charlotte only a half hour after the official 5:00 p.m. opening, and the event was already in full swing. The festival grounds were packed with kiddie rides, inflatables, games, food vendors and various other family-friendly attractions. Children in an amazing array of costumes sprinted from one trick-or-treat station to another for candy, stickers and other goodies.

Dressed as a kitten with pink-lined cat ears attached to a headband and a fuzzy black tail pinned to her black leotard, Charlotte was wide-eyed as she clutched her plastic pumpkin bucket and took in all the activity. A smudge of pink makeup on the tip of her little nose and eyebrow-penciled whiskers on her chubby cheeks completed the costume. Her proud grandmother privately proclaimed her the most adorable child in the park. Elle couldn’t disagree, though she kept the thought discreetly to herself.

Elle and her mom had also dressed for the holiday. Elle wore a long, thin black robe over her clothes with a witch’s hat headband holding back her hair. Her mom, of course, was a fortune teller in a caftan and turban. Detained frequently for chats with acquaintances, they made their way slowly from one orange-and-black festooned booth to the next. Charlotte happily crowed, “Tricker Treat!” at each stop, earning more than a few “awws” from adults enchanted by her charms.

Reveling in the fun her daughter was having, Elle couldn’t stop smiling. Perhaps there was a little wistfulness when she saw doting fathers with their little ghosts and goblins, but as she listened to her mom and Charlotte giggling together, she told herself she was a very lucky woman, indeed. Whatever feelings she’d once had for her ex were gone now. The jagged cracks in her heart had healed, leaving a few scars but only memories of pain. She had a family she adored and a business she loved; what more could she ask?

One of her most faithful customers waved and called out a greeting from a few yards away, and Elle smiled and waved in return. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Charlotte slipped her hand out of Elle’s loose grasp and made a dash for a colorful fishing-for-prizes booth. Elle spun to give chase. She knew she could catch up before the short-legged two-year-old reached the attraction, but she was surprised when a man stepped into Charlotte’s path to block the escape. With a hitch in her step, Elle identified him immediately. Shane Scanlon—dimples, black jacket and all.

Apparently recognizing Shane, Charlotte crowed happily and dove at him, raising her arms to be picked up. He lifted her high into the air and she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. Shane laughed. Elle heard every female within sight sigh appreciatively at the image of the good-looking man and the sweet little girl smiling at each other. She was fully aware that her own sigh blended with the soft chorus.

Shaking her head to clear it, she moved toward them.

Shane smiled at her. “Look what I caught.”

“So I see. Hello, Shane.”

“Shane,” Charlotte repeated, patting his cheek with a gentle hand.

Elle would have sworn he blushed a bit, and her heart melted a little in response. Careful, Elle.

“Shane.” Her mom approached with a flutter of her vivid orange-and-black-printed caftan, bracelets jingling as she rested a hand familiarly on his arm. “What a nice surprise. Were you looking for us?”

“Actually, I was on my way back from a business meeting when I saw the festivities going on here. I’m staying in the motel just down the street. I didn’t have anything better to do, so I thought I’d stop to check it out. That’s when I caught sight of this runaway kitten.” He bounced the giggling toddler in his arms as he studied Elle’s outfit.

Elle smiled at him. “Nice catch.”

“Nice hat.”

“Thank you.” She reached up automatically to straighten the plastic headband. “Still enjoying your visit to our area?”

“Very much.”

Tugging at Shane’s collar, Charlotte pointed to the game booth where she’d been headed when he’d scooped her up. “Fish!”

He turned his head to look. “The fishing booth? Is that where you were headed?”

She nodded emphatically. “Fish, Shane!”

“You want to catch a fish?”

She bounced again. “Fish!”

Shane looked questioningly at Elle. “Looks like I’m being invited along on your fishing excursion. Do you mind?”

“Of course not.”

Perhaps Shane was feeling a bit lonely in the festive crowd of strangers. He seemed pleased to find familiar faces. Still holding Charlotte, he moved into the line waiting at the game booth where preschoolers could dangle a fishing line over an ocean-painted backboard. Hidden behind the backboard, festival volunteers attached small stuffed toys to the lines with plastic clothespins for the children to “catch.” Because the area was already crowded, Elle and her mother stayed back out of the way, watching from nearby. Elle had her phone in hand to snap a photo as Charlotte obtained her prize.

“Oh, my goodness, how cute is that?” Janet clutched Charlotte’s plastic pumpkin bucket to her heart as she watched Shane help Charlotte grip the toy fishing rod. “Isn’t he adorable?”

Adorable might not have been the word Elle would have chosen to describe Shane—but she couldn’t take issue with it, either. He was cute as he made an exaggerated show of helping Charlotte cast her line over the backboard, drawing a peal of giggles from the child. The man was definitely good with kids.

“You should ask him to dinner while he’s in town. I’d be happy to babysit, of course. Maybe you could take him to Bruno’s tomorrow night.”

Elle resisted the impulse to roll her eyes. “Mom, I’m not going to ask him out.”

“Why not? It’s okay for women to do that, you know.”

“Yes, I know it’s okay, but Shane is only in town for a few days on business. He lives in North Carolina and apparently travels quite a bit. For all I know, he could be leaving town tonight.”

Her mom gave her a look. “Wouldn’t hurt to ask. I have a feeling you and Shane could be just right for each other. I could tell the first time I touched him that he’s a fine, upstanding young man.”

Elle didn’t bother to point out that her mother had thought the same about Glenn. They’d both been fooled by Glenn’s practiced smiles and deliberately chosen words. Needless to say, Elle wasn’t placing a lot of faith in her mom’s newest “prediction.”

Shane toted Charlotte over to them then. Charlotte gleefully gripped a small, stuffed black cat in one hand. “Mommy, look! Kitty!”

Had it been merely coincidence that the child’s prize matched her costume? Or had the volunteer peeked around the backboard before attaching the toy to the clip on the end of the fishing line? Elle suspected the latter.

She slipped her phone in her pocket and reached for her daughter. “That’s a beautiful kitty, Charlotte. Say ‘thank you’ to Shane for helping you at the fishing booth.”

“T’ank you, Shane,” the child parroted obediently.

“You’re very welcome, Charlotte.”

“Are you getting hungry, Charlotte?” her grandmother asked, motioning toward the other end of the park where picnic tables were surrounded by food vendors. Tempting scents from grills and fry buckets wafted from that direction. There weren’t many healthy offerings, but plenty of celebrated festival foods were among the selections. “We can have hot dogs or fried chicken. You like both of those.”

“Chicken,” Charlotte announced immediately, squirming for Elle to put her down. “Want chicken.”

Janet took the child’s hand, then smiled coyly at Shane. “We’d love to have you join us for a bite, Shane. Do you like fair food?”

“Who doesn’t like fair food? Okay with you, Elle?”

He turned to face her, and she noted that his hair showed even more tendency to curl now that he was wind-blown and slightly disheveled. Feeling her fingers twitch in response, she pushed her hands into her pockets and spoke cheerily. “Of course it’s okay.”

A few minutes later they settled at a picnic table with their guilty-pleasure Southern dinners. Charlotte and her grandmother were sharing fried chicken and waffles. Elle and Shane indulged in bowls of buttery, cheesy shrimp, and grits with andouille sausage and a dash of cayenne pepper. Elle was fully aware their group was getting some curious glances from people who knew her. Being so busy with work and family, she hadn’t dated much—at all, really—since her divorce, so speculation was sure to be aroused by seeing her sharing a meal with a good-looking man.

Between the food, the cacophony of sounds surrounding them, frequent greetings from passing acquaintances and Charlotte’s excitement-fueled chattering, there was little chance for real conversation among the adults at the table. Which didn’t stop Elle’s mom from trying to find out all she could about Shane. Elle winced a couple of times, hoping she’d been a little subtler than her mom at interrogating the interesting visitor. As he had with her, Shane answered the questions with patient tolerance, though Elle learned little about him that she hadn’t already known.

Charlotte held up a gnawed chicken drumstick. “Bite, Shane?”

Such a flirt, Elle thought with an amused shake of her head even as Shane answered, “No, thank you, Charlotte. I still have some of my own dinner left.”

While Elle tried to wipe her squirming child’s food-smeared face with a paper napkin, her mom spoke to Shane. “You’re very good with children.”

“I like kids,” he replied lightly.

“None of your own, though?”

Elle cleared her throat pointedly as a warning to her mother not to get too nosy, but Shane answered with a smile. “No, none of my own. I’ve never been married.”

“Elle told me you’re from Fayetteville. Do your parents still live there?”

Remembering that he’d recently lost his father, Elle winced and started to intervene, but again Shane responded evenly. “My mother died when I was only three. My dad died last year. But my grandmother, my uncle and my cousin and her family all still live in Fayetteville, so there’s no shortage of family there.”

Even Elle’s sometimes-oblivious mother could see it was time to back away. She focused on wiping Charlotte’s mouth while Elle changed the subject to something less precarious. She knew she would reflect later about this other great loss in Shane’s life.

“Have your business meetings gone well, Shane? Wasn’t I right about Trevor Farrell being a nice guy?”

“He is.”

“And his resort is beautiful.”

“Very.”

“Do you think you got the account?” her mother asked, unable to resist chiming in again.

It was obvious that Shane didn’t want to speculate about his ongoing discussions, but he said guardedly, “Our talks have been going well.”

“I’ll put in a good word for you, if you like. I can tell Trevor that I predict a very successful collaboration if he signs with you.”

Shane shot a slightly alarmed look at Elle. Sighing at her mother’s propensity for overstepping boundaries—even with the best of intentions—Elle interceded smoothly. “I’m sure Shane prefers to conduct his own business negotiations, Mom. You shouldn’t interfere.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate the offer, Mrs. O’Meara,” Shane said.

“Janet,” she reminded him. “And I won’t say anything, if you prefer. But the offer stands.”

“Candy, Mommy?” Charlotte asked, pointing hopefully toward her pumpkin bucket.

Judging that her daughter had eaten enough chicken, Elle handed her a piece of candy from the bucket. “Just one for now.”

A rumble of activity from behind them drew Elle’s attention to the amphitheater that anchored the south end of the park. “Oh, they’re setting up for the concert. It’s supposed to start at eight.”

She checked her watch, surprised to note that it was already almost seven. “We’ll have to leave before the concert begins. Charlotte’s already drooping and she still needs her bath before bedtime.”

Her mom clapped her hands together, causing her bracelets to jingle. “I have an idea, Elle. Why don’t I take Charlotte home? You and Shane can stay and enjoy the concert. I’m sure you’d like it, Shane. One of the local singers performing tonight was on a national TV talent show last year! He made it all the way to the top five before he was eliminated. I just know you and Elle will have a fun evening.”

Elle wondered if her “psychic” mother was aware that her daughter would like very much to pinch her. Could she be any more obvious in her matchmaking?

“It does sound like fun,” Shane said before Elle could speak. He looked at her in question. His expression let her know he understood the position her mom had just placed her in, and he generously provided her with a plausible excuse. “But I’d understand if you have other things you need to do tonight.”

“No,” she said on an impulse. “I mean, yes. I’d love to stay for the music.”

She still doubted this would lead anywhere, but why not enjoy a rare evening with an attractive man? It was nice to get away from chores and worries for a few hours, and a public concert was a safe, pressure-free place to spend time with him, even if gossip was sure to ensue.

“Great.” His dimples flashed briefly, and she couldn’t resist smiling back.

He seemed genuinely nice. Maybe he was. She needed to learn to trust again.

Tonight could be just what she needed to get back out again as a single woman who could appreciate the company of a charming, handsome man, if only for a few pleasant hours. Shane Scanlon fit that description very nicely.