Three and a half hours later, I was late for work, stressed, and shell-shocked. I jabbed at my phone as I drove past the billboard reminding me that texting and driving was illegal in Georgia. I made it across the state line, marked not just by the Savannah River but also a strip club and a farm stand selling over–priced peaches to lost tourists, and pressed send.
Me: Jazz, call me! I’m traumatized.
She didn’t call me, of course. I was defeated in the dress department even after three stores and seven dresses. And the beauty appointment was way out of my comfort zone. I felt like a fluffed poodle.
I made it back to Butler Cove in record time and went straight to the Grill, peeling into the parking lot with a spray of bleached oyster shells. I slunk through the back door of the kitchen.
Hector, eyes wide, was already shaking his head and tutting at me. “Hees here.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, looking hectic.
Dammit! Paulie, the owner, was notoriously absent off-season. Of course he would show up the one day I was late.
And I was wearing the light pink maxi dress I’d put on to have lunch with Colt instead of what I was supposed to wear, which was shorts and running shoes.
Hector cocked a bemused eyebrow as he took in my appearance.
“Don’t you dare say a word,” I warned him.
Jazz chose that moment to call me.
I regretfully silenced the phone and let it roll to voicemail as I stuffed my bag onto the top shelf of the storeroom. I glanced at my reflection and saw the trial make-up job I was wearing. At least it covered how tired I was. They’d done me over like I was getting married. I had highlights and soft waves in my normally unruly hair. I guessed it was pretty, but I pulled it all into a pony.
I was about to head past Hector and go apologize to Paulie for being late, when he took my shoulders. He set me at arm’s length, gave me a long look with his dark brown eyes, and then sighed.
“It’s okay, Hector.”
His eyes crinkled up. “Bueno,” was all he said, and he pulled me into a big hug then pushed me toward the swing door, shaking his head, and making the sign of the cross over his chest.
Okay, weird. I frowned but headed out. Some days I felt like his daughter.
Oh. I stopped dead upon exiting the kitchen.
Oh.
He’s here.
The place was electrified. Paulie, his back to me at the bar, his gray hair tied back on his neck, was roaring with laughter at something Devon Brown or Jack Eversea said to him from where they sat across the polished wood.
My blood pooled at my feet.
There were no ball caps and hoodies tonight. Jack was in a dark grey t-shirt snug across his muscled chest, his hair flopped down over his brow. His green eyes, set into the angular planes of his face, were creased with laughter. Why, oh why, did he have to get sexier every time I saw him?
The room was abuzz around them.
The mom of a family of four, holding a pen, tapped Jack on his shoulder.
He turned toward her, his smile warm and open, and signed her paper with his beautiful long fingered hands. Then he hopped off his stool as she shoved her smartphone at her nonplussed husband and practically climbed into Jack’s arms for a picture.
I clenched my jaw.
Jack shook hands with the husband, grinning, clapping him on the shoulder. No hard feelings.
Trying to reconcile the shattered looking Jack from my kitchen in the early hours of this morning with the smiling, carefree, well-rested, made-for-movies looking one in front of me, I stood staring like an idiot. Jack turned to sit back down, and his emerald eyes found mine and locked onto them like he knew I’d been there all along.
My pulse seemed to take one wild beat, and then stop in my throat.
His gaze glided down my dress and back up to my face. Then his lids flickered down half-mast, and he slid his eyes lazily away from me, dragging my heart along for the ride.
“There she is! Keri Ann.” Paulie’s voice shocked me into action like a defibrillator. “Look who we’ve got in tonight. These boys have got this place jumpin’.”
Paulie slapped his hand on the bar. “Glad you could make it. Finally.” He raised his bushy white eyebrows as I headed toward him. “What are you wearing?”
“Sorry, Paulie. I was at an appointment in Savannah that … ran long.” I deliberately didn’t answer his embarrassing question.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jack’s hand tense imperceptibly around his drink. Good. I hoped he thought I was in Savannah with Colt. And I hoped I was glowing. How dare he come in to the Snapper Grill when I’d asked him to leave me alone? And what was that look he just gave me? That wasn’t playing fair.
“No matter, sweetheart, you’re here now. Brenda’s been doin’ a great job, but if it keeps up like this with word gettin’ out about these two being here, it’ll be a flat out sprint within the hour.”
“Sorry, Paulie,” Devon shrugged. “We can always pitch in, if you need it. I mix a mean drink.”
“Ha!” Paulie hooted loudly. “I may hold you to it, boy! But I’ve got two more guys coming in to help in the kitchen so we should be good.”
“I’ll go check in with Brenda and help her with tables tonight, if that’s okay, so you can entertain our esteemed guests at the bar,” I offered Paulie, willingly giving up bar duty. I then turned to Devon, pointedly ignoring Jack. “Good to see you again, Devon.”
He raised two fingers to his brow, saluting me. “You too, Keri Ann. You’re looking beautiful this evening. Did you have a date today or something?” he asked in a tone I just knew jabbed Jack on purpose.
My skin flushed warm. “Or something,” I managed, but joined his game by cocking my eyebrow and adding a world of innuendo to my simple answer.
“Fuck you, Devon,” I heard Jack hiss at his friend, though his lips barely moved.
Devon smiled and winked at me.
I found Brenda and took over half of her tables. As predicted, the evening was long and busy as word got out about our celebrity guests. It was probably the most exciting thing to happen to Butler Cove residents since they built a new bridge onto the island.
But I found it increasingly confusing.
I thought Jack didn’t like people knowing where he was. If he felt like Butler Cove was a place he could escape to, why was he letting the whole world know where he was?
Unless he wasn’t planning on staying very long.
My chest felt lined with lead. He’d told Colt he was staying indefinitely, but that was before I told him to leave me alone. I wanted that, right?
I waffled between being upset he’d blatantly ignored my request, and by extension, admitting he didn’t mean what he’d told me, and being steeped in disappointment that this clearly meant he was leaving Butler Cove and leaving me alone.
Over the course of the evening, he must have had his picture taken with at least thirty people. Women.
I tried not to pay attention, but the weight of Jack’s presence in the room was hard to ignore. The tension needled across my skin and deep into my belly, getting stronger by the second. I was running on adrenaline, counting the seconds until I could escape.
Clearly having heard the buzz, a group of female students from USC Beaufort came in half an hour before closing in a gaggle of long tanned limbs, lip gloss, and short skirts. I recognized one of them as a friend of Jazz’s. We exchanged a few pleasantries as I pointed out where they could sit and tried not to roll my eyes at Brenda.