“That does sound tragic.” Scanning the menu was like rereading a love letter from long ago that evoked equal parts nostalgia and longing. “I’m glad to see they kept a lot of the old favorites, but there are some new options here that look good, too. I think I could eat here every night for the rest of my life and not get tired of it.”
“Have you been here since you moved back?”
She shook her head, her gaze flicking back and forth between the various options. “Oh, wow, lobster and Brie grilled cheese? I used to always order the grouper sandwich, but I don’t think I can turn down something as decadent as Brie and lobster.”
“So get it. As hard as you work, you deserve something wonderful.”
Sam swallowed hard before daring to look up at him. His smile was easy, his body language sincere. He seemed to have offered the compliment without thought, as if it was nothing. When was the last time someone had done that? “Thanks. I think I will.”
As if in response to her decision, a waitress appeared at her elbow, gray-streaked hair pulled back in a ponytail and a tired smile on her lips. “Have y’all had time to decide?”
“I think so, but you know me, I always get the same thing.” Dylan returned the waitress’s smile with his own hundred-watt version. “Sally, I’d like you to meet Sam Finley. She used to live here, and is back in town, working with the Fish and Wildlife Commission.”
Sally turned to Sam, her green eyes widening. “That’s why you looked so familiar! You’re Tom Finley’s little girl!”
* * *
Dylan watched Sam blink in surprise, obviously trying to place the middle-aged waitress in her memory.
“I can’t believe you remember me...from back then, I mean. I’ve been gone so much...”
“Well, sure, I heard you were away at some fancy school or something, but you’re still an islander, and I know everyone on the island.”
“Thanks. I guess I wasn’t sure anyone still thought of me that way.”
The older woman’s expression softened. “Of course we do. People were real fond of your family. It was tragic what happened to your mother. Maybe we should have done more to help afterward. But your father—”
“He wasn’t very good at accepting help,” Sam finished for her.
“Well, yeah, he was just very independent.”
Sam’s mouth tightened. “He still is. I guess you don’t see him in here much”
“Not in years, honey. But I’m sure glad you’re here. Good to see how nicely you’ve grown up. And following in your daddy’s footsteps as a wildlife officer—he must be very proud of you.”
Sam nodded politely, but he could see the tension in her shoulders, tension hadn’t been there before. Wanting to shift the focus to something more palatable, he tapped her menu. “Still want the lobster grilled cheese?”
Her smile returned. “Definitely. With a bowl of the conch chowder.”
Sally scribbled on her pad. “Anything else? An appetizer, maybe?”
Chewing her lip, Sam scrutinized the menu. “Are the conch fritters as good as I remember?”
Sally winked. “Better.”
Dylan took the menu from her and returned it to the side of the table. “Well, then, by all means, bring the lady some conch fritters.”
“I’ll get the order in right away. And Sam, it’s good to have you back in town.”
“Thanks, Sally. It’s good to be back.”
Sally headed to the kitchen, leaving them alone again.
“There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Sam shrugged. “No, but she remembers me. That helped.”
“I think you are going to find a lot more people remember you than you think.”
A hint of worry furrowed her brow. “If so, then why doesn’t anyone else mention it?”
“Did you ever think they might be waiting for you to say something? You’re the one that left—maybe they think you’re too good for them now.”
“That’s crazy. I’m the same person I always was.”
“You grew up into a beautiful woman. That can be intimidating to some people. And for all they know, you liked the girls at your fancy prep school better than the people here.”
She shook her head, her dark hair mussing with the movement. “No way. I hated being away from here. And I never fit in at St. Anne’s. I was too shy, from the wrong place, with the wrong accent. I was the odd girl out, complete with mousy hair and thick glasses.”
He reached out and smoothed a strand of hair back behind her ear. Soft as silk, just as he’d imagined. “Well, I have a hard time believing that, but if you ever were an ugly duckling you’re certainly not now. Although I would like to see you in those glasses sometime.”
“So you can tease me, too?”
“Let’s just say I like the sexy librarian look.”
Sam’s mouth opened, then closed, her cheeks flushing at his innuendo. She really was as innocent as she seemed if something that mild could embarrass her. It was refreshing to know he could make a woman blush. But also a reminder to watch his step. He wanted to get to know her better, not scare her off. Luckily, Sally chose that moment to return with a plastic basket heaped with piping hot fritters, defusing the tension with the scent of fried food.
“Here you go, but be careful. They’re a bit hot.”
Sam was already reaching for one, nodding at the warning. “Thanks, I remember.” She took a bite and then immediately dropped the steaming fritter into her lap. “Ouch!”
Dylan handed her a napkin from the dispenser on the edge of the table. “She did warn you.”
Sam brushed the crumbs off of her shirt and shook her head. “I thought she meant spicy hot, not hot-hot.”
“It seems in this case they’re both.” He nudged one of the glasses of ice water the waitress had left toward Sam. “Here, drink this. It will help.”
She nodded and gulped down a few big swallows. “Better, thanks.”
“Good.” He broke open one of the steaming fritters and handed her half. “They cool faster this way.”
“Now you tell me. Where were you a minute ago?”
Fantasizing about you in nothing but a pair of glasses probably wasn’t the right answer, so he just shrugged and bit into the rapidly cooling appetizer. The slightly sweet and chewy conch contrasted perfectly with the spicy peppers and crisp batter. “Do you know, there are people who have never had a conch fritter?”
She shook her head in mock sympathy. “It’s a tragedy, really.”
“It is. I guess they don’t know what they’re missing. But still, life can’t quite be complete if you don’t have good seafood.”
A wistful look shadowed her face. “There’s a lot to be thankful for in Paradise.”
Dylan wanted to punch himself. She’d lived most of her life away from this, and it was obvious she’d missed out on a lot more than seafood while she was gone. He couldn’t give her that time back or fix everything that had gone wrong for her, but he could at least try to keep his foot out of his mouth and make her return as welcome as possible.
And if easing her reentry into her old hometown meant spending more time with her, well, that was just an added bonus.
Конец