4
Shanna frowned as a classic Mustang convertible passed by on Shore Road for the fourth time. Though he made a halfhearted attempt to disguise his interest, it was evident the older driver was studying her and Kevin on each pass. There was no question that he was looking at them, because they were the only two people left at the café. They’d been lingering over coffee for a while now. Kevin hadn’t noticed the man’s odd behavior because his back was to the street. When she spotted the car yet again, she reached for Kevin’s hand.
“Turn around,” she said in an urgent undertone. “There’s someone watching us. I thought I might be imagining it, but he’s back again. This has to be the fifth time he’s gone around the block and slowed down right in front of us.”
Kevin regarded her blankly. “What? Who?” He shifted around, took one look at the approaching car, and groaned. He turned back to her with an apologetic expression. “That would be my father.”
“Your father?” She took another look and saw the resemblance: the same square jaw, the same thick black hair, though his had some gray and Kevin’s was cropped short in a way that kept its natural wave under control. If she’d been able to see them at this distance, she suspected the man’s eyes would be the same vivid blue. She turned back to Kevin with a puzzled expression. “Why on earth do you think he keeps circling the block?”
“I don’t know for sure, but if I had to hazard a guess, he’s spying on me.”
Shanna stared at him, then glanced back to note that the car had, indeed, slowed to a crawl. The driver lifted his hand in a casual wave, then made a sharp left into a metered, pull-in parking space across the road.
“Maybe he’s looking for you because something’s wrong at home,” she suggested.
Kevin shook his head and gestured toward the cell phone on the table. “He and my grandmother both know how to reach me.”
“Well, he’s definitely coming this way, so obviously he was looking for you.”
“More’s the pity,” Kevin said grimly. He stood up and met his father before he reached the table. “Dad.”
She watched as Mick O’Brien gave him a jovial slap on the back as if this meeting had been totally accidental. “Son, I didn’t expect to find you here.” He glanced in Shanna’s direction. “And with this lovely young lady.”
Kevin gave a dramatic roll of his eyes. “Dad, this is Shanna Carlyle. She’s opening a bookstore next to Bree’s shop. I was helping her at the shop earlier.”
“Good for you,” Mick said, retrieving a chair from a nearby table and pulling it up to theirs. “Think I’ll join you for a cup of coffee, if you don’t mind.” Then as an obvious afterthought, he added almost hopefully, “Unless I’m interrupting.”
Kevin, his expression resigned, sat back down. “You’re not interrupting.”
“Well, that’s good then.” He beamed benevolently at them as if bestowing a blessing.
It took every bit of restraint Shanna possessed not to chuckle at Mick O’Brien’s undisguised eagerness to figure out what was going on between the two of them. If Kevin weren’t so obviously miserable at having been discovered with her, she probably would have laughed. She hadn’t had anyone so blatantly checking out any of her dates since she’d left home for college, and back then it had been her dad.
“Mr. O’Brien, it’s a real pleasure to meet you,” she said when Kevin remained silent. “I fell in love with this town when I visited last year. I’m so excited that I was finally able to get some retail space to open my shop.”
“You’re exactly the kind of young, energetic person the town needs,” Mick said. “You’ll keep Main Street interesting, just the way it was intended to be.” He paused long enough to order a decaf coffee from the perky young waitress, who’d been hovering nearby, her rapt gaze on Kevin all evening. When she’d left, he asked Shanna, “How did you and my son meet?”
“Dad!”
He blinked at Kevin’s reaction. “What? It’s a logical question.” He winked at the waitress when she brought his coffee. “Thanks, Mary.” He turned his attention back to Shanna. “So, how did you meet?”
“He was looking for Bree yesterday and stopped in my shop. He came back today and saw that I was practically buried under a pile of unassembled bookshelves. He offered to pitch in.”
She was surprised by the look of dismay that passed over the older man’s face.
“Kevin put your shelves together?” he asked, sounding worried.
“He did.”
“And they’re still standing?”
She frowned at his reaction. “Well, of course they are. Why wouldn’t they be?” she asked, indignant on Kevin’s behalf.
“Dad’s not a fan of my construction skills,” Kevin told her.
“You said yourself this morning that you don’t have any,” Mick reminded him. “This isn’t news.”
“Well, he did a fine job on my shelves,” Shanna insisted. “You can inspect them yourself.”
Mick backed down, obviously chagrined at having maligned his son in front of her. “No need for that. I guess I’m just surprised.”
“For any number of reasons, I’m sure,” Kevin added wryly. “Dad, is everything okay at home? Davy’s not sick, is he?”
“No, no. I just decided to go for a ride. You know I like to take the Mustang out on a nice night from time to time.”
“Which necessitated circling this block several times?” Kevin inquired.
Mick actually blushed at that. “Thought I saw you here, but I wasn’t sure at first. Then I had a bit of trouble finding a parking space.”
Kevin took an exaggerated look up and down the street, where parking spaces abounded. “Really? There are plenty now.”
“Well, there weren’t ten minutes ago,” Mick told him, taking a final sip of his coffee and then standing. “Nice to meet you, Shanna. You let me know if you need any more help getting your store ready to open. I’d be glad to help out.”
“Thanks, but I think it’s all under control now,” she said.
“See you at home, Kevin,” he said, then turned on his heel and walked away.
Beside her, Kevin released the breath he’d obviously been holding.
“For a minute there, I thought he was going to tell me not to stay out too late,” he grumbled. “Do I look like I’m sixteen?”
“I think he was sweet. He was obviously curious about what was going on with the two of us.”
“Which he will now report far and wide,” Kevin said, his expression grim. “You should have locked your shop door when you saw me coming today. You could have saved yourself a lot of grief.”
“But then my shelves wouldn’t be up,” she reminded him. “That’s worth a little meddling.”
“We’ll talk again in a day or two,” he said direly. “See if you still feel that way.”
She studied him for a moment, then risked a question that had been on her mind most of the day. “How is it that you have time to help me out? Is your job really flexible?”
The frown, which she’d come to recognize as an immediate response when she was cutting a little too closely to a nerve, returned.
“I’ve been taking some time off.”
The response told her