Giggles and a bark sounded from the other room.
“I appreciate you rescuing Bridget, but your parting words...”
What had he said? To be honest, he was so ticked, he couldn’t recall his words. All he knew was, he’d been walking along the beach, thinking about Jamie, when the urgent cries had him in the water before he could stop himself.
“The conditions probably weren’t the best. I should have been right there in the water with them, but in my defense, I didn’t know they couldn’t swim.”
He frowned. “You’re their mother. Shouldn’t you know?”
She waved her hand. “It’s a long story. I became their guardian after their mother passed away.”
“Sorry.” His brow wrinkled. “You were probably upset enough without me piling on, but you should be more careful.”
Her spine went stiff. “I’ll decide what I should and should not do when it comes to my girls.”
He noticed her cheeks had flushed pink. “Sometimes I get a little carried away, especially when it has to do with kids around water.”
Her anger faded as something more troublesome crossed her face. “I understand.”
He read the pity in her eyes and his stomach tightened. Here came The Conversation. Mostly he stayed away from the topic, but in light of yesterday’s events, he couldn’t let it go.
“You know?”
“Yes. Nealy told me. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
No matter how many times he heard the platitude, it made him angry, even when he knew it came from the heart. He met Jenna’s gaze. She didn’t know the entire story. If she did, her empathy would most likely change to derision.
Although his social skills were rusty from lack of use, he managed to mutter, “Thanks.”
An uncomfortable silence fell between them. She stood, smoothing her dress. “We won’t keep you any longer.”
Following her lead, he called Cruiser. The dog loped out of the house, the girls not far behind.
“He’s super friendly,” said the girl with a ponytail. Abby, was it?
“And he likes us,” Bridget added. “Can we come back and play with him?”
“Now girls, Mr. Hamilton is busy. We can’t just invite ourselves over for a visit.”
Wyatt nearly laughed out loud. Busy? Not so much. “Cruiser and I like to walk the beach. If we run into you, you can play with him.”
The girls hugged the dog. Cruiser basked in the attention.
“Well, we should be leaving.” Jenna turned to the girls. “What did you want to tell Mr. Hamilton?”
In unison they said, “Thank you.”
He nodded. “And thanks for the cookies.”
She gathered the girls. They stepped through the screen door and down the steps. Before rounding the house, she stopped. “Will you be at the party tonight?”
Max had mentioned something about a party but he hadn’t listened. “Party?”
“To welcome the girls and me to town.”
“I hadn’t planned on it.”
She tilted her head, the sunlight catching the highlights in her hair, her skin glowing. An indulgent smile curved her lips, throwing him off balance and making him feel warm. “Do you like to eat?”
His mind suddenly went blank. He blinked. What was the question? Oh, yeah. Eating. “What has that got to do with anything?”
“I’m cooking. You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted my secret mac and cheese recipe.”
In the past two years, he hadn’t lived much, period. Yet this petite woman showed up on his doorstep with cookies, and for a split second he was considering going to her party.
“See you at six?”
What was wrong with him? She may be pretty, her smile the best thing he’d seen in a long time, but his empty porch beckoned. “I didn’t say I was coming.”
A sassy grin lit her face. “You won’t be able to resist.” After her final volley, she disappeared from view.
Wyatt ran his hand over his chin again, shaking his head at the small smile forming on his lips.
In less than thirty minutes, Jenna had made him self-conscious about his appearance, her girls had vied for his dog’s affection, and, he had to admit, he’d found her company more entertaining than anything in ages.
She was right. He couldn’t resist seeing her at the party. For once, he wouldn’t be hiding out at home. Alone.
“C’MON, GIRLS,” JENNA called down the hallway from her bedroom as she fastened an earring in place. “We’re running late.”
She hadn’t gotten used to waiting on two young girls to get ready. Always priding herself on punctuality, she’d yet to master getting the three of them dressed and out the door on time.
“Coming,” Abby answered.
At the sound of the oven buzzer, Jenna hurried to the kitchen. The aroma of baking cheese met her before she entered the room. Using three different gourmet cheeses, with a bit of bacon thrown in and a topping of artisan breadcrumbs, she’d made the promised mac and cheese dish for the party. Donning a pair of oven mitts, she pulled the pan out and covered it with aluminum foil. Turning the oven off, she walked back down the hallway, stopping at the door of the girls’ room. Abby was on the floor, slipping on the new sparkly sandals Jenna had bought for the occasion. Bridget sat nearby, brushing the hair on her favorite doll.
“Ready?”
“Yes,” they answered in unison.
Returning to her bedroom, she picked up her purse before performing a quick scan of the space. She worried about forgetting to unplug her hair straightener or another electrical appliance, especially after a fire destroyed one of the foster homes she’d lived in. Satisfied everything was in order, she left the room.
“Front and center,” she sang out.
The girls ran to the living room. Jenna smiled as she viewed their matching sundresses, Abby in pink, Bridget in purple. Jenna had pulled their shoulder-length hair into ponytails with matching bows to finish off the look.
Her heart squeezed tight. “Beautiful,” she said, crouching to give them a hug.
“We’re late,” Bridget reminded her.
“Right.” Rising, Jenna smoothed the skirt of her red, sleeveless A-line dress. She’d blown dry her hair in a breezy style, not much else to do with the short length, and added her favorite spiky sandals, which gave her petite frame some height. “Let’s−”
Her cell rang again. “One minute.” She hurried to the kitchen, glancing at the caller ID. Barbara. The woman’s timing was impeccable. It was like she knew exactly when Jenna was in the middle of something with the girls and couldn’t answer the phone. Funny how her agent’s calls had never bothered her before the girls became a permanent part of her life.
“Jenna!” Bridget called.
“Coming.” No time to talk now. She would speak with Barbara later.
Tossing the phone in her purse, she grabbed the handles of the mac and cheese pan and hustled the girls out to the car. Soon, they were on the road. She breathed a