Home. Already she was thinking of Moondust Cove, of her tiny cottage, as home.

  She plunked the laptop bag on her desk and slid out of her heels. With her eyes closed, she massaged the back of her neck and rubbed the soles of her bare feet against the soft rug while she prioritized what needed to be done before she could leave. The paperwork prepped and emailed to the McIntoshes. Write the listing for Stars Overlook and—

  “Working late tonight.” The deep male voice from behind startled her.

  She whipped around and stumbled over a stray shoe but managed to right herself by mashing both palms against the desktop. “Mannix.” Why did her voice have to come out sounding so breathy?

  With a shoulder nudged against the frame and arms crossed over his chest, his bulk took up most of the doorway, his clean and just-stepped-out-of-the-sea scent already invading her office. His midnight blue polo hugged his trim torso, but it was the white embroidered lettering for the company logo that pulled her attention.

  He’d been so vocal about his adversity to wearing uniforms, but now he appeared to wear the shirt with pride. What had changed?

  “Came back to keep me company? The office gets kinda lonely after five o’clock.”

  “What?” She blinked and shook her head. “No. I just got through showing the Very Beary property.”

  “What’d you think?”

  “The couple put an offer on it.”

  He smiled, and just like that, her exhaustion lifted. “I knew that one wouldn’t last long.”

  “It’s perfect for them. A doctor and his wife. They’re expecting their first child soon.”

  His smile dropped, and his chest lifted with his sigh.

  Why had she felt compelled to tack that on? Not to be vindictive, for sure. That wasn’t her nature.

  “I’m sorry, Rowan.”

  “For what?”

  “For not being the man that you needed. For not giving you what you wanted. You deserved better.”

  She deserved the husband that she thought she’d married. Minus the tons of empty bottles and the despair that seemed to swallow him whole with every year that passed.

  When her lips quivered, she sank into her chair, deciding it was best to ignore that apology before she unraveled. “I still need to write up that contract.” Maybe he’d take the hint and—

  Like an athlete, in one easy move he settled into a chair across from her desk. “My team just finished that remodel before Gramps reassigned me to Vacation Rentals. It might be one of my all-time favorites.”

  “That remodel was your work? I would’ve guessed Trace.”

  He scowled, feigning hurt at her incorrect assumption. “Farmhouse kitchen with a commercial stove and refrigerator. Shiplap accent wall in the downstairs office. Oversized master bedroom with a seating area and cozy fireplace. Spa-inspired master bath.”

  “I’m impressed. But more importantly, so were they.”

  “I’d rather hear what you thought about it.”

  She pretended to be preoccupied with booting up her laptop. “I think Gramps might’ve made a mistake switching you and Trace.”

  “I can see I’m not getting anywhere here.” Chuckling, he rose from the chair and turned over a shoulder at the door. “You should know by now that Gramps doesn’t make mistakes. At least, none that he’d admit.”

  Thank goodness he was leaving. Maybe now she could get some work done. Once he cleared out of her office and took his sea salt scent and his sweet baritone laugh with him. “No?”

  He shook his head. “Gramps makes calculated decisions. For whatever reason, he thought the move would be for the best.” The rigid angles of her ex-husband’s face softened along with his voice. “Just like hiring you. And I…I have to agree with him.”

  Mannix pivoted and disappeared, leaving her jaw dangling. She pressed her back against the leather chair, blinking and willing her lungs to function again.

  So much for getting any work done.

  ****

  How was he supposed to get any work done after baring his heart like that? And knowing that Rowan was just two doors down from him in a deserted office building, the soft strains of worship music filtering down the hall, listening to her hum along, surely didn’t help matters.

  His heart hammering to the tune of the current song, Mannix shut down his computer and leaned back in the chair. He’d wait until she finished and walk her out to her car.

  He swiveled to glance out the window. The sun had slipped past the mountains, and pink and violet slashed the sky like wide strokes of a paint brush. Not much longer and it would be dark. So, he would follow her home too. Just to be sure the bear hadn’t made a return visit and wasn’t parked out on her front porch, waiting for his dessert.

  The music stopped abruptly. Chair legs rolled across the wood floor, and keys jangled.

  When he met her in the hall, her eyebrows spiked. “Calling it a night too?”

  “Yep.” He pushed open the door leading to the parking lot and gestured for her to pass through first.

  But she didn’t. She halted and turned to face him, hiking her chin in that cute way whenever she was angry and hitching the laptop bag higher on her shoulder. Maybe even gave that pretty shoe a slight stomp against the wood floor. “I don’t need an escort, Mannix. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time now.”

  Too long. “If I had my way, I’d still be—”

  What? Drowning his resentment—

  No, Mannix. Call it what it is. Don’t be generic. Name your feelings. The counselor’s words rebuked him from memory.

  Okay, then. Drowning his anger at his parents for dying and stripping him of his choices in the bottle? Even reserved some for his twin sister for abandoning him when they should have walked down that aisle side-by-side to get their high school diplomas, should’ve shared their excitement as they moved into their college dorms later that year.

  There? Happy now? he admonished the counselor in his head.

  “You’d still be…what, Mannix?”

  He swallowed hard. Licked his parched lips. Tried to think past the intoxicating blend of lemon and spearmint that drifted up his nose to taunt him and reinforce all that he’d lost. He hadn’t been much of a protector while they were married. But people could change. Couldn’t she see a difference in him? Obviously not. “Nothing. Take care, Rowan. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Rowan stormed through the exit and made it inside her car before he could lock the door to the building. She backed up and mashed the accelerator, not even looking at him as she drove out of the parking lot.

  Coward. Some protector he was. He couldn’t even tell her how he felt.

  7

  “Thank you so much for inviting me to dinner, Aunt Ellie. The lasagna was delicious.” Rowan stacked the soiled plates, silencing the shouts and laughter when she nudged the patio slider closed with her arm, and carried them to the sink.

  If her aunt had mentioned that the three Tomlinson brothers and Trip would be there too, she might’ve begged off with other plans.

  But Aunt Ellie would’ve seen right through the lie. Besides, she was an adult. She could get along with her ex-husband. Right?

  Wrong. He didn’t play fair.

  One glance outside the kitchen window, at the four men in shorts and chest-hugging tees playing an impromptu game of football in the back yard while Gramps played referee from a chair on the sidelines, mocked her. Sweat dripped from Mannix’s hair and beard as he sprinted almost the entire length of the yard in bare feet. He angled around and reached high for the ball, catching it easily and tucking it against his chest, but Trip tackled him. Bodies writhing, the ball squeezed out from between the pair, and Trace pounced on it. Before long, all four ended up in a pile with much laughter and wrestling going on at the same time. The ref blew a whistle, and each man hoisted himself from the heap until Mannix was left. Trace held out a hand and Mannix dragged his brother back down, restarting the wrestling match. Gramps just shook his head, and Rowan could picture the smile on his weathered face.

  Probably because it was the same smile that was on her face.

  Longing swelled. To be a part of this family again, more than just a distant link by her aunt’s marriage to the patriarch. Did that even count?

  She blew out a sigh.

  “I’m glad you came, darling.” Ellie curled an arm around Rowan’s back and pressed a cheek against her shoulder. “Even though it must feel as if an arrow pierces your heart every time that you’re with him.”

  She sucked in a breath and glanced sideways, locking with her aunt’s wise eyes. “That’s exactly what it feels like.”

  “You still love him.”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  Aunt Ellie chuckled and gazed out the window. “Probably not to him. Men can be dense. It took Joe five years to ask me if I would consider going out with him.” She shook her head, the chuckle fading to a mischievous smile. “And it wasn’t as if I didn’t give him plenty of opportunity.”

  What? “Really? Like what, Aunt Ellie?”

  “Squeezing in next to him and the boys at church. Conveniently running into him at the doughnut shop and inviting myself to join him for a coffee. Convincing all my friends to rent cabins from their company and hand delivering their reservations. You name it, I tried it.”

  Wow. She bumped shoulders with her aunt. “Who knew you could be so devious?”

  “Honey, all’s fair in love. And until there’s another woman’s ring on your man’s finger, there’s always a chance.”

  Chuckling, Rowan lifted the lever to get the water started and squeezed soap into the sink. Breathing in the clean citrus scent, she loaded the sink with the soiled plates and silverware. “I don’t know, Aunt Ellie. We might’ve used up our one and only chance.”

  “You don’t believe in second chances?”

  She gasped at the deep voice just over her shoulder and whipped around, coming within inches of her ex-husband. Soap suds dripped from her hands and landed on his bare feet with a plop.

  Smiling, he took her hands in his and massaged her wet soapy palms with his thumbs.

  A huge lump finally managed to crawl down her throat, and somehow, she pushed the words past parched lips, her lungs backing up. “Uh, where’d Aunt Ellie go?”

  “Outside.”

  Oh. Thrown under the bus by her almost seventy-five-year-old aunt.

  “So?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “What would make you sure?”

  “I…I’m not sure.” What? Suddenly she’d lost all cognitive ability.

  More so when he leaned in close and planted a palm against the counter on either side of her, blocking any escape. Not that she’d even considered it. Especially when his whiskers grazed her cheek and his ear tickled her nose with sage, sea and sweat.

  Oh, how she loved this man! But they’d tried for their happily-ever-after and failed. What made her think it would work a second time?

  “Hey, Manny. What’s taking you so long with the—” Heavy footsteps tromped on the deck and halted just inside the kitchen. “Never mind. I see what the holdup is. I’ll just tell the guys the iced tea’s coming. Much, much later.” Amusement—and was that hope?—fused in Trace’s voice.

  She jerked, dragging her face back from the vicinity of Mannix’s ear, but didn’t get very far since he’d backed her against the sink. How and when had his fingers gotten tangled in her hair?

  Mannix, the rascal, extricated his fingers and took a step back, looking quite satisfied with himself. As if he knew the truth now. That she was in love with him, had never stopped loving him.

  She cleared her throat and shifted her bum down the counter a bit. Just enough to loosen the invisible hold her ex had on her, to get out from under his intoxicating scent, one she’d never been able to erase from her memory. She even imagined it on her pillow at night. “That’s okay, Trace. I’ll get it.”

  When she turned and reached into the cabinet for some clean glasses, Mannix’s breath tickled her neck. “To be continued.”

  She shook her head, the only body part that seemed to be working at the moment. Other than her heart, hammering out a rebellious response, and her nerve endings, every one of them standing to attention at his nearness.

  His chuckle warmed her from the inside out. He snatched the cups before she could get to them. When he finally moved to the fridge and pulled out the gallon jug, she let out the breath she’d been holding.

  Hiding her flaming cheeks, she rooted around in the pantry, searching for a tray and willing her pulse to slow back to normal. Who was she kidding? Around Mannix, it would never be normal.

  There! She turned around, brandishing the tray. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks, Rowan.” Trace took the tray from her, his expression serious now. “It sure is good having you back home.”

  “I was just telling her that very thing.” Mannix transferred the full cups to it, and the brothers walked to the door.

  “Sure you were,” Trace whispered, loud enough for her to hear. “That’s exactly what it looked like to me.”

  Before the pair disappeared outside, Mannix swiveled over his shoulder and winked.

  Her shoulders wilted, and she shuffled back to the sink, letting the counter support her weight. Outside, Mannix handed out the cups. When the last one was taken, his gaze landed on the kitchen window. His lips curved into a smile.

  It was good to be back home.

  ****

  Mannix stared out at the darkness off his back deck, contentment and peace filling his soul.

  Rowan was home. And, after her response to his flirting today, they just might get their second chance.

  He took a long swig of coffee just as his phone vibrated with a text.

  Sorry for interrupting today. Trace had tacked on a sad face emoticon to the end of the text. So not like his brother.

  No worries. It’s all good. He texted back.

  Before he could place his phone back on the table, it pulsed again. So…what did I interrupt?

  Mannix hesitated, not sure how to respond. The darkness pulled at him, the scent of lake water just as strong and as comforting as the brew in his hand. What had Trace interrupted? An almost kiss? More flirting? Or a solid rejection?

  A nice moment. He switched his phone setting to silent and tossed it on the table, unable and unwilling to dwell on it. Time would tell.

  Was Rowan happy being back home? Did she like her job? She sure seemed to excel at it. He didn’t know what a normal week at her old job was like, but she’d sold four of their listings this week. Four! They counted it a good month if their last broker sold three of their listings. If Rowan continued on this blazing hot path, they’d have to up their game, either remodel more properties or build more houses.

  Either way, he looked forward to going into the office every day. Not that he hadn’t before, because he loved his job and the people he worked with, but just knowing that she’d be there put an extra bounce in his step, made him program his internal alarm clock to get up even earlier just so he could see her the minute she stepped into the building.

  He picked up his phone again, noting three more texts from his brother before opening the Bible app and scrolling to the passage from Isaiah that he’d read this morning.

  See, I am doing a new thing!

  Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?

  I am making a way in the wilderness

  and streams in the wasteland.

  Dropping his hand to his lap, he squeezed his eyes closed. Lord, is this “new thing” a second chance with Rowan? I feel like I’ve been wandering in a wilderness since our divorce. Is this just a summer reunion or are You making a way for us to become friends again…or something more? Is a second chance too much to ask or hope for?

  A sound interrupted his prayer, and his lashes popped up. A herd of deer wandered out into a clearing in the woodsy area on the back of his property. A couple of the beauties looked straight up at the floodlight mounted on a deck post. Wide-eyed, they stood motionless until they must have determined that he wasn’t a threat.

  Entranced, he watched them until their meandering took them out of the clearing. One last swig of coffee, and he rose to go inside, but his phone screen lit up with Landon’s face.

  He answered the silent ring and set it to come out through the speaker then sat down again. “Hey, buddy. How’s it going in…where were you this time?”

  “Slovenia. It’s in my rearview mirror. At least for the next three months. That’s the plan, anyway. We’ll see if they can make things work for that long without me.”

  “What? You’re back home?” Great. Just great.

  “Yep. Got home this morning. Slept all day.” Landon sounded groggy, as if he might be rubbing his eyes.

  “Just got up to use the bathroom and get a bite to eat?”

  A chuckle sounded through the phone. “You got it. Heading back to bed, but I wanted to let you know that I was back.”

  “Want to do something tomorrow?”

  “Do you have to ask?”

  He laughed.

  “Word around town is that Rowan’s back.”

  His smile disintegrated. “Thought you’d been sleeping all day.”

  “You know how it is, man. Small town. No secrets. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Because he didn’t want his best friend moving in on his ex? “You weren’t here.”

  “That’s it? Just because I wasn’t here?” Landon’s voice took on a more serious undertone.

  “Sure. What else would there be?” Forgive me for the lie, Lord.

  “Want to take the jet skis out?”

  “Sounds like a plan. What time?”

  “How about two o’clock? That’ll give me time to sleep off the jet lag.”

  “You got it. I’ll meet you at the beach.”

  His thumb was poised over the button to end the call, but his friend kept talking. “Yep. Oh, and Manny?”

 

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