Carolina Man Read Online Free PDF

she never called him that except sometimes in her head. Mostly, when she talked to him by Skype, she didn’t call him anything at all. She didn’t think he noticed.
    All around them people were crying and kissing and stuff, babies bawling, fathers hugging their kids.
    Taylor stuck out her chin. She wasn’t going to cry. But she guessed it would be okay if he wanted to hug her.
    He didn’t.
    Her stomach dropped in relief and disappointment.
    He crouched down and looked her right in the eyes. His face was all serious. Taylor twisted her fingers together behind her back. When he first showed up on Grandma Jo’s porch, tall and strong in his uniform, she’d felt a rush of relief so intense she’d almost cried.
Dad to the rescue
. And he
had
rescued her.
    But then he’d gone away again.
    Maybe he wasn’t glad to see her. She wished, too late, that she had listened to Aunt Meg this morning and put on her new clothes, the ones they bought for her to wear to court.
    Right. Like some dumb purple sweater would make him like her.
    She scowled harder, swallowing the lump in her throat.
    “Hey, kid,” he said like he couldn’t remember her name.
    “Hi.”
Dad
.
    He tapped the brim of her hat with one finger, the way Uncle Matt did sometimes. The familiar gesture made her feel better. “Thanks for taking care of my cover.”
    Taylor’s cheeks got hot. She hadn’t let the hat out of her sight since he gave it to her. She even slept in it sometimes. But that would be a loser thing to say. She didn’t want him to think she was a baby. She jerked a shoulder instead.
No problem
. “Do you . . . do you want it back now?”
    “Nah. You keep it.” The corners of his mouth curled up, just a little. His big hand dropped on top of her head. He gave her a quick and careless rub, like she gave the dog at home sometimes, knocking the hat sideways, messing up her hair. The knot in her stomach eased. “It looks good on you.”
    Cautiously, she allowed herself to smile back.

Three
     
    A LL THE VOICES in Kate’s head were squawking as she sped across the bridge to Dare Island in her little red Mini Cooper.
    Jesus, Kate, stop overreacting
. That was her father.
    I don’t think it’s wise for you to get too close
. That was her mother.
    It’s important for you to accept that not everything is your responsibility
. That was her therapist.
    Kate turned up the volume on the radio to drown them out. Christmas music. She sighed. If you were a family lawyer, Christmas was not the easiest time of year. If you were also the adult child of an alcoholic . . . Well. You already knew that many families cracked under the expectations and disappointments of the holidays. Too much drinking. Too much stress.
    Too many bad memories
. She gulped in the fresh air rushing through her window. At least it was a nice day for a drive. Living above her office, walking to the courthouse, she didn’t have many opportunities to get away. The waves on the Intercostal Waterway sparkled. The December sun shone. The jumble of shops along the Dare Island waterfront looked quite pretty with their lighted wreaths and garlands. The squat brick police-and-fire station sported a big red bow.
    The buildings thinned out, the tourist shops and sidewalked streets replaced by cottages and then by oaks and pine.
    Her errand wouldn’t take more than ten minutes, Kate promised herself. Twenty, tops. The voices could hardly object to that.
    And then she’d have another pleasant forty-minute drive back to Beaufort. Maybe she’d stop for Chinese on her way home to celebrate her successful day in court.
Because nothing says “victory” like eating takeout in front of
The Bachelorette. Just for a moment, Kate let herself imagine what it would be like to have someone waiting for her at home, someone to rub her feet or listen or laugh with. But the truth was she had no idea what that would be like.
    She made the turn, peering for an inn sign.
    The Pirates’ Rest rose