Megan didn’t know how to respond. She’d thought for some time now that Will and Jess had unacknowledged feelings for each other, but she’d kept her suspicions from Mick. He wasn’t the kind of man who could sit back and let things happen at their own pace. He’d been fretting about Jess’s lack of a social life for some time now. He’d be meddling the instant he saw any reason for it.
“I have no idea,” she said eventually, which was true enough. Jess had never once mentioned to her that she felt any attraction to Will.
Mick studied her skeptically. “Why do I get the feeling that was an evasive answer? Did you leave some kind of loophole in there?”
“Why would I do that?” she asked, hoping her tone sounded innocent enough to fool him.
“Because you don’t want me interfering,” he said at once. “You think I lack tact.”
She chuckled despite herself. “I know you lack tact.”
“So you are deliberately hiding something from me,” he concluded. “Are those two involved? Will and Jess, I mean.”
“Not that I know of,” Megan insisted with total honesty.
Mick’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. “But you suspect something, don’t you?”
She regarded him with impatience. “Mick, have you learned nothing from our other children? Meddling only makes things worse.”
“Which means there’s something going on you don’t want me meddling in,” he said triumphantly. “I knew it! Jess ran off because Will was there with another woman. Seeing him there upset her.”
His momentary delight in having figured that out faded almost instantly. “If that man hurt Jess, he’ll answer to me, by God!”
He started to rise, but Megan put her hand on his arm and locked her gaze with his. “Unless Jess comes to you and asks for your help, you will stay out of this, Mick O’Brien. Neither of us has any idea what’s going on with those two, if anything. If you go after Will, you could be making matters worse. You might even be humiliating your daughter.”
Mick sat back down, though he didn’t look happy about it. “Then maybe I should stop by the inn and have a talk with Jess,” he said. “Find out the score for myself.”
Megan cringed at the thought, but rather than telling him flat-out not to go—a waste of breath, if ever there was one—she settled for warning, “If you want to go and visit with Jess, that’s one thing. If you want to cross-examine her about Will or about what happened today, forget it. It’s a bad idea. Jess is her own woman.”
“She’s our baby,” he corrected. “And she always felt that neither of us paid enough attention to her. It may be late, but she has to know we’re here for her now.”
Megan sighed. “No one is more aware that I abandoned Jess when she was barely seven than I am. I think she’s finally come to understand all the reasons behind our divorce. I even think she’s starting to believe that I never stopped loving her. That doesn’t mean she’s ready for me to jump in and start parenting her at this late date. The same goes for you, Mick. We have to let Jess come to us.”
Mick heaved an unhappy sigh. “I don’t like sitting on the sidelines when one of my kids is miserable.”
“I know that,” she said more sympathetically. “But maybe she’s not miserable. Maybe she and Connor had one of their usual spats. That’s possible.”
“I suppose.”
“Why don’t you just drop in at the inn to see if she needs any help?” Megan suggested. “Fridays are always crazy over there once the weekend guests start pouring in. She’ll appreciate the gesture, and you’ll be there if she decides she wants to open up. How about that?”
Mick’s expression brightened. “I can do that. I’ll get the lay of the land and report to you over dinner. Are we still going to Brady’s tonight?”
“Unless you’d like to invite Jess to join us at the house,” she said.
“And have you cooking at the end of a long day?” Mick chided. “I’ll invite her to join us at Brady’s. I’ll call and let you know what she says.” He walked around the counter and kissed her. “Marrying a sensible woman was the smartest thing I’ve ever done.”
Megan laughed. “Then isn’t it nice that I gave you the chance to do it twice?”
She watched him leave, then shook her head, wondering if sending him over to the inn had been the smart thing to do. She knew all about Mick’s good intentions. They lasted just as long as he wanted them to, then got lost the minute he concluded he knew what was best for everyone.
She could trust him to stick to the plan or she could call and give Jess a heads-up that her father was on his way. Either path had its risks.
In the end, she opted to do nothing. After all, she was the one who’d said her daughter was her own woman now. She had to trust that Jess could handle Mick and his well-meant interference.
Then again, she also knew better than anyone that handling Mick required a delicate balancing act between staunch self-confidence and the quick footwork and blocking skills of an offensive lineman. Otherwise Mick could bulldoze right over you.
Jess had a crowd of new arrivals at the desk trying to check in. Ronnie had vanished twenty minutes ago. She was about two seconds from a nervous breakdown when she glanced up and caught sight of her father.
“What can I do to help?” he asked. “Need me to carry some of these bags for you?”
“Would you?” she asked, not questioning why he’d appeared just when she needed him. She was too grateful to have an extra pair of hands.
“Not a problem,” Mick told her. “Where’s that Forrest kid? I thought this was his job.”
“Don’t get me started,” she muttered, then smiled at the couple who’d just finished registering. “Mr. And Mrs. Longwell, you have a room on the second floor with a view of the bay. Dad, can you help them with their luggage?”
“Of course,” Mick said, grabbing the two small suitcases and heading for the stairs.
He was back by the time she’d finished registering the next guests, two women who’d come from New Jersey. Within an hour, all of the guests had been checked in, and several were already relaxing in the lounge with the inn’s complimentary wine and hors d’oeuvres. Jess had just taken her first deep breath of the afternoon when her father reappeared.
“Everyone’s settled,” he assured her. “Looks like business is good.”
“It should be like this at least through the end of October,” Jess told him. “We’re almost full for Thanksgiving, too.”
“Good for you,” he said, beaming at her. “You should be proud, Jess. This place is every bit the success you thought it could be. Your mother and I are so happy for you. You’ve done a terrific job.”
“Thanks, Dad,” she said, genuinely appreciative of his praise. “What brings you by, anyway? I’m sure you didn’t come over here to carry suitcases for me, though you were certainly a godsend this afternoon.”
“Happy to pitch in,” he said.
“Would you like a glass of wine or some of Gail’s hors d’oeuvres?”
“Not for me. I wanted to see if you’d like to join your mother and me for dinner at Brady’s tonight, if you’re not busy.”
Jess stilled. “Why?”
“Why not?” he countered. “You deserve a night out, don’t you? Unless you already have plans, of course.”