Читать книгу A Wedding Worth Waiting For - Katie Meyer - Страница 12

Chapter Five

When the waitress returned with their entrées, Sam forced herself to focus on the meal, refusing to let herself be dragged down by bad memories. Sure, she’d had a rough childhood in some ways, but she was incredibly lucky in others. And right here, right now, she was having a delicious meal in one of the most beautiful places in the world. Even better, she was having a great time. Not only had Dylan turned out to be an excellent dinner companion, but she’d actually met someone who remembered her! It was almost pathetic how much a waitress’s simple comment could affect her mood, but knowing that someone remembered her mother, remembered them as a family, meant more than she had expected.

Her mom had been gone so long, and her father had changed so much, it was hard to believe any of it had been real. Sometimes she wondered if she’d imagined how good her life had been back then. Talking to someone who knew her then reassured her it wasn’t all in her head. They had been happy, and damn it, she was going to be happy again. She was going to make friends, kick butt at her job and make her boss and her father proud of her.

“Is your sandwich okay? You’ve been awful quiet.”

“Oh, yes. It’s delicious, actually.” And it was, the creamy Brie and buttery lobster a match made in heaven. “I was just thinking.”

“About?” Dylan took a bite of his taco and looked expectantly at her.

“The past, the future, that sort of thing.”

He nodded. “Being near the ocean can bring out some big thoughts. Something about the timelessness of the waves maybe. Whenever I get too caught up in the day-to-day grind, I hit the beach. A few hours on my board helps me back up and see the forest for the trees.”

“I knew it! You are a surfer.”

“Guilty as charged. I don’t get as much time on the waves as I’d like, but it’s one of the reasons I took the job here. I was dying to get back in the water.”

She dipped a corner of her sandwich in the spicy chowder and considered that. “So where were you before you came here?”

“Boston. Which, although technically isn’t far from the ocean, to find waves you have to be willing to drive a while. Which my school schedule didn’t leave a lot of time for.”

“Wait, you were in school in Boston?” She tried hard to picture his sun-bleached hair and laid-back attitude fitting in in New England, and failed.

“Yeah, grad school. I got an MBA, which looks good on paper but taught me very little about bottle-feeding deer. That’s all on-the-job training.”

He had an MBA? “What school?”

“I did my undergrad at UF, but the MBA is from Harvard.”

“You have an MBA from Harvard. And you work for a tiny nonprofit where you have to nail shingles and feed deer?” Was he crazy?

“I do more than that, but yes. I had job offers from larger companies, but I wasn’t interested in the whole corporate thing. I like it here, and I’m close enough to home to visit my family when I want to. And when I get free time, which isn’t very often, I admit, I can surf or just walk on the beach. Boston’s a great place, but I’m a Florida boy at heart.”

So not just good-looking, but smart. Smart enough to get into Harvard, and confident enough to turn down what were undoubtedly better-paying and more impressive jobs in order to have the lifestyle he preferred. She wanted to understand more about how he’d ended up following such an unconventional path, but if he didn’t want to talk about it she wouldn’t pry. Having her own off-limits subjects, she knew that simple questions could sometimes lead to painful answers.

Instead, she leaned back in her chair and steered the conversation to a more mundane topic. “You said your parents live nearby—does that mean you’re a Florida native?”

He gave a slow, easy smile and her heart thumped a bit harder. “Yes, ma’am. My parents have a cattle ranch over on the mainland in unincorporated Palmetto County. My brother and sister both still live there, and help run the place.”

“And you didn’t want to stay and be part of the family business?”

“No, but it took me a while to figure that out. I majored in Agricultural Science at UF, but the closer I got to graduating, the more I wanted to do something else. I didn’t tell my parents I was applying to grad school until after I got accepted. I figured they couldn’t argue with a scholarship to Harvard.”

So not only did he get into Harvard, he’d gotten a scholarship. Wow. “So your version of rebellion was to go get a business degree at an Ivy League school?”

He chuckled. “If you put it that way, I guess so. Not much of a rebellion, huh?”

“Hey, going against the expectations of your family is hard, no matter what.”

“Is that how you ended up as a wildlife officer, because your father expected it?”

Sam sputtered, nearly choking on a sip of tea. “No, definitely not. He thought I should be a librarian or an English teacher. Joining the Fish and Wildlife Commission was the last thing he wanted for me. He thinks law enforcement isn’t a suitable career for a woman. Or at least, not for his daughter. Camping out, hiking—those are fine if they’re just a hobby. But chasing poachers in the back country, carrying a gun—that’s way too dangerous. “

A slow, sexy smile spread over Dylan’s face. “Well, then, I guess that makes us a pair of rebels, doesn’t it?”

* * *

Dylan watched her shrug off his question. “I guess so, although rebelling really wasn’t the goal. And I do like books, so he wasn’t too far off with the librarian idea.”

“But...?” There was obviously more, something she wasn’t saying.

“But I wanted something that we could share, something to bring us together. And I wanted to make a difference, the way that he did.”

And she wanted to make him proud.

Something inside his chest ached at the thought of this gutsy woman trying so hard to earn her own father’s approval. No wonder she was determined to make things work for her in Paradise. She wasn’t just trying to impress her boss or renew old friendships; she was trying to win her father’s love.

“Is everyone all done?” Sally was back, ready to clear their plates.

Sam nodded. “I’m finished. How about you, Dylan?”

“Yes, thank you, Sally. And could you bring out two slices of the key lime pie, please?” He looked back to Sam. “Unless you’d prefer something else.”

“Key lime pie sounds perfect.”

Sally took their plates and smiled her approval. “Y’all sit tight. I’ll be back with that pie in just a minute.”

True to her word, she returned with the sweet, creamy dessert in record time, and he still hadn’t figured out a way to ask Sam more about her relationship with her father. Maybe it was best to work up to that and start with something simpler. “So, what kinds of things are you looking forward to, now that you’re back?”

She halted the fork that was halfway to her mouth. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what are you planning as far as fun? Places you’ve missed, people you want to see, that kind of thing.”

“Other than eating conch fritters and key lime pie?”

“Yes, other than that. Although it’s not a bad start.”

She licked a bit of pie from her fork, sending his blood rushing south as she appeared to consider the question.

“I don’t really know. I’ve been pretty focused on the things I have to do, not the things I want to do. Business before pleasure, and all of that.”