sleeping over at Nolan’s, right?”
“Yes. Part of me is so relieved that I don’t have to pretend in front of him. But you know me too well. Because as much as I’d love to tell you you’re wrong about the brooding, I have a feeling that rattling around the house alone is going to make tonight seem like a dog year.”
“So don’t go home. Things quiet down around here after seven. You can hang around here until then, or run errands or whatever and come back. Either way, I’ll have Tiff close for me tonight. You and I are going to the Anchor. There’s always some distraction to be had there. We can get stinkin’ or we can just feed the jukebox and knock ’em dead at darts. Whataya say?”
She really wasn’t in the mood for the local bar. But neither did she want to go home to take up pacing again. Plus, if she knew nothing else, she could rely on one thing: being with Tasha would help. “Deal. I think I’ll hang here until you’re ready. That’ll give me plenty of time to decide whether darts or getting stinkin’ is the best way to go.”
CHAPTER THREE
J AKE COULDN ’ T SETTLE DOWN . He’d driven around the area to refamiliarize himself with the spots he remembered and to check out the changes—surprised at how many of the latter there were. Back at the inn, he’d explored both his suite, which had taken all of five minutes, and the grounds of his former in-laws’ resort, which had at least used up a little time. He’d called room service to deliver his dinner, because he was too wired to sit in the dining room.
But now it was only six-thirty and the walls were closing in. He had to get out of here.
Grabbing his hoodie, he pulled it on, zipped up, then wrestled his sport jacket on over it as he headed for the beach. He’d walk into town. See if he couldn’t kill some more time.
He barely glanced at the rugged, panoramic mountain range across the water that stopped the tourists in their tracks. Head down in the wind, hands jammed in his pockets, he strode purposefully along the boardwalk, one of the additions that was new to him.
Moments later, he reached Razor Bay—only to discover they’d already rolled up the streets.
“Shit.” How could he have forgotten that? It used to be just one more reason added to the many that’d had him dying to get out of this backwater burg. There was bugger all to do in the low season. Hell, it only offered a limited selection of distractions during the high.
The Sunset Café, Bella T’s Pizzeria and a new Vietnamese sandwich place were still open, and those likely only because it was Friday night. At least in the summer both Harbor Street and Eagle Road were jumping until eleven.
Remembering Austin talking about his friend’s mom getting them pizza, he almost went into Bella T’s. He tried to convince himself that he had an urge to do so simply because the place was new to him and he was curious. But he wasn’t that good a liar. He knew damn well the fuel driving that machine was the off chance of seeing his son.
Even if Austin was in there this very moment—and what were the odds of that?—did he really want a public face-off with the kid? Jenny was right: he needed to give Austin time to get used to the fact that he was back in town.
He didn’t know why just thinking her name made a vision of his son’s guardian dragon pop into his head. But not only could he see her shiny hair, those big dark eyes and smooth olive skin, the damn mental picture was high-def.
He blinked the image away. Where the hell had that come from? She was so not his type.
He gave his shoulders an impatient hitch, looking for a more comfortable fit in his skin. The more he thought about it, the more his earlier idea—to have li’l Ms. Salazar help pave the way with Austin—seemed like the way to go. At the time it had merely been one of those throwaway ideas that sometimes popped off the top of his head. But it was a solid plan.
Of course, it was also predicated on