“Hey, if she has more of these, she can come over at seven in the morning.”
Will stared down at Owen so Julianne wouldn’t see the smile on his face.
“So you do have fond memories of growing up in this town.”
He did have some, but they were mostly of the few people in Chances Inlet who’d accepted him unconditionally, like the McAlister family and his friend Chase Jordan’s family. They were often his refuge from his world at the Seaside Vista Trailer Park. Unfortunately, the Jordans had only been summer and weekend residents, the rest of the time living in Charlotte. Still, neither family treated Will as some charity case like the rest of the town did. He was often the special project of the town’s do-gooders, and he hated that he couldn’t do without their largesse because he and his mother needed it to survive.
“We don’t have to stay here. If it bothers you too much to live near the ocean, we can go someplace else. I just need to be within an hour’s flight to Baltimore for mini-camps, but we could work something out.”
Julianne had pulled her feet up, her chin tucked to her knees and the blanket wrapped securely around her. She turned toward the sound of the ocean ebbing against the dock. “No,” she finally said, her eyes meeting his. “You have something you need to prove here, misguided as I may think it is. And this is your hometown, so it’ll be Owen’s, too. He’ll grow up here at least part of the year with you. And with your mom. I need to get a grip on my emotions and stop letting them rule my life. Besides, it’s only temporary. For me at least.”
Will had to admire Julianne’s determination. It seemed there was nothing she wouldn’t do for Owen: live by an ocean that constantly brought on panic attacks, put her career on hold, or marry a man she didn’t love. He was relieved that she seemed resigned to the fact that Owen would live with each of them separately and that they’d make it work. For his part, Will would make concessions, too—keeping his raging libido in check, for a start. Like she said, their situation was only temporary.
“Enjoy the rest of your day,” Annabeth called to the mother and daughter who’d just purchased matching batik scarves. The door chimes jangled as they left the store. She recorded the sale on her iPad, making sure to include Janel’s commission. Annabeth sold the scarves to tourists for her friend who operated a mission on the island of St. Martin. Women and children at the mission made the scarves, dresses, and bracelets, carefully dyeing the fabric themselves. The money raised helped to fund education initiatives for the children.
Annabeth loved that she could use her grandmother’s shop to help other women in need. Her son clearly didn’t understand the situation at all. Will insisted she no longer work. He wanted her to travel or run some charity for him. Or go to college. Annabeth had no intention of doing any of those things. She was happy in Chances Inlet, a town where she knew who she was, what she was. Will wanted her to be someone else. Someone he could be proud of. Annabeth sighed. She’d raised a smart, successful son. Why couldn’t that be enough? Her cell phone rang, interrupting the downward spiral of her thoughts.
“Annabeth Connelly,” she answered.
“Ah, Miz Connelly. Mystery solved.”
It took her only a second to identify the voice as belonging to Hank Osbourne. It had been a week since their encounter at Will and Julianne’s wedding. His parting words still played out in her head nightly, though.
“And what mystery might that be, Mr. Osbourne?”
“Hank.”
Hank. She liked that his name was ordinary, not complicated, unsophisticated. Unfortunately, Hank Osbourne the man was none of those things. Eventually, he’d find out that she was.
“Hank,” she breathed. “What mystery can I solve for you?”
He was silent for a moment. “Well, Annabeth, that’s a loaded question. One I hope we can address in the near future.” His challenge was issued in a seductive purr, one that caused her to visibly tremble. Thankfully, there weren’t any customers in the store to notice.
Hank cleared his throat. “Today’s mystery involves Sophie and her texting. Elizabeth noticed she’d been texting this number a lot and, as usual, rather than confront Sophie about it, she has me deal with it.”
“Elizabeth?”
Hank sighed. “Sophie’s mother. My ex-wife.”
“Ahh. She likes to make you the bad guy?”
“Not always, no. She and Sophie are going through a bit of a phase where she doesn’t want to intrude too much in Sophie’s privacy. It keeps the peace in their household.”
“But at what cost to your relationship with Sophie?” It was really none of Annabeth’s business, but she liked Sophie. She also didn’t want to admit that she hated that Hank’s ex-wife used him in such a way.
Hank chuckled. “Don’t worry. I get my turn at good cop enough. So, do you mind telling me why she’s texting you so often? You aren’t by chance a physicist, are you?”
It was Annabeth’s turn to laugh. “Not a chance. I admire her for even attempting the class.” She fingered the earrings dangling on the display by the register. “She’s been sending me photos of her jewelry. And I’ve been sending her texts of encouragement.”
The phone got so quiet, she thought he’d hung up on her until finally he spoke, his voice husky. “You are a very kind woman, Annabeth Connelly.”
She pulled the phone away so she could clear her throat. “Well, it isn’t easy finding reliable help these days. I need her to succeed.”
“I do, too.” He covered the phone so he could speak with someone else.
“Well,” she said. “If that’s all you need . . .”
“No! Don’t hang up! I’m sorry. Despite it being the off-season, things are a little crazy around here. How are things down there? With the newlyweds? They haven’t killed one another yet, have they? I’d hate to have to go out and find another All-Pro linebacker with training camp only a couple of months away.”
Annabeth smiled. “They’re both still alive. Just sleep deprived. They’re finding out it’s a lot harder taking care of a newborn without the help of a medical staff.”
“And the baby, he’s better, right?”
“Oh, yes. My grandson is perfect.”
Hank was quiet on the phone again as Annabeth realized her mistake.
“I forgot about that,” he finally said. “You’re Owen’s grandmother.”
Yes, she wanted to scream, I’m a grandmother! I’m also an undereducated, socially inept woman who you’d eventually find lacking after sleeping with me. It was better Hank find out now, before she succumbed to his flirting and eventually ended up where she always did with men: with her heart broken.
“He’s a lucky kid.”
She didn’t like the predatory way that sounded, and suddenly she was wishing poor Sophie didn’t raise her physics grade just so she didn’t have to see Hank Osbourne again. It made her feel awful.
“I should be going. I’ve got customers,” she lied.
“Oh, sure. Just one more thing. Will’s doing okay with all this scrutiny of his former college coach, isn’t he? Things are starting to get a little ugly. Names are going to come out. I just need Will to keep us informed if any issues arise so the front office can keep ahead of it.”