“Look at you, picking up on all the connections.” She sipped her water, trying to ignore the looks aimed their way. “Yes, that Nina. As for what brought me here, I own one third of the Hideaway. Our mother died there, so I’ve heard my share of ‘bless her heart’—usually in the kindest use of the phrase. The idle chatter rarely bothers me.”
That hadn’t always been the case, but she was proud of the personal work to make it true now. But she had no intention of dredging all of that up. In her experience, men rarely enjoyed hearing about her ex-husband. That pinch of perpetual judgement near her heart was almost completely gone, especially after the lovely installation ceremony for her three Brookwell sculptures. She’d only ever admitted to Roni that she’d been afraid, right up until the day-of, that the town council would change its mind about showcasing her artwork.
Oblivious to her rambling thoughts, Trent devoured the hush puppies between more questions as their drinks and then food arrived. The fresh fish he’d caught was a savory masterpiece,tender and flavorful, and Natalie enjoyed the pause in his gentle interrogation about Brookwell life.
When he finished, Trent let the waitress clear his plate before launching into another round of queries. He seemed focused on the marina, town history, and other property owners on the island. Clearly, he was up to something more than some training time, but she played along.
He asked if she knew how to sail—yes. Did she ever paddle board or kayak—rarely. What made her go into mixed media as an art form?
That one caught her off guard. Although prepared to deliver her typical answer, she didn’t feel like that was enough, so she gave him the truth. “I stumbled over it,” she admitted. “Almost literally. If you want the whole story?—”
“I do.”
“Okay.” She did her best to smother a smile. He was so earnest and interested. Whether or not this was an official date, she was adding it to her win column. “Brace yourself, because I’m told this borders on the woo-woo,” she warned, wiggling her fingers.
He gripped the edges of the table. “I’m set.”
She chuckled, smitten with his sense of humor. “My creativity latched onto mixed media during a basic exploration class. It was as if my hands finally found the outlet my heart was searching for. Once locked on, it all but ran away with me, tossing me headlong into a career I adore.”
As she spoke his hands relaxed from the table’s edge and his gaze grew more intense. She wasn’t sure that was a good thing. Once more she’d gone too far. “I’m sure it was just like that for you and consulting,” she quipped, hoping to lighten the mood.
“No, Natalie. Don’t do that.” He shook his head and dragged in a breath. “Don’t retreat from what was clearly a watershed moment. What you shared, that’s beautiful.”
She swallowed. He meant it. Either that or he had missed his calling as an actor.
Had they reached a turning point? Was there real potential for something more between them? Right now, it was the only possibility that made sense.
“Thanks,” she whispered, suddenly missing the easy flow of questions and answers. “But with all this talk of Brookwell and me, I haven’t heard much about you. You would’ve made a good reporter if you hadn’t chosen security consulting. Why not journalism?”
“Have I been that bad? I have.”
His low rumble of amusement brushed over her skin like velvet. She didn’t quite suppress the shiver. “No, not bad at all. I love talking about this town and everything in it. Brookwell is a wonderful place. Summers here were essential to my childhood. Serious core-memory stuff. You should’ve seen the original house,” she mused. Describing her memories of those first summer visits, before projects and updates resulted in the current Hideaway, put a glow in her heart. “Truly, they were the fondest memories of my life.”
“I believe you. The framed picture of the beach house in the Hideaway dining room intrigued me. I wasn’t sure if it was actually part of the history or just decor.”
“My mom took that,” Natalie explained. “As a kid, their pride in the purchase went right over my head. I was too happy to be at the beach. But looking back with adult eyes, it’s easy to see how much they loved each other. The deep significance and commitment of taking that kind of leap for each other. For us as a family. They were thrilled to invest in the future that way.”
Memories flowed in a rush through her mind and heart. The nostalgia filled her up. “Mom was a great photographer. Her own artform,” Natalie mused. “It’s funny. I remember the town feeling so small and so big at the same time. We would ride ourbikes into town for ice cream and, as long as we stuck together, our parents let us go.”
“You don’t feel like the town is smaller now that you’re grown and own a business here?”
“Maybe?” Her sisters would probably agree with him. “That’s the weird thing. Even though the town has grown, I wouldn’t think twice about letting my kids bike around and explore.”
“Even after?—”
“Yes,” she interjected. “Even after. Crime happens everywhere, right? As much as people complain about small town gossip, this community is pretty tight in a good way. I feel like there’s a power in that. A good energy that serves us all.
“Brookwell is stability and safety for me,” she continued. “My mom’s decision to have hospice here only underscored that.” Pretty much branded it on her heart. “Granted, Celeste did the heavy lifting when it came to her care, but it matters that Mom felt safe enough to die here.
“And now you’re staring.” She patted her shoulders. “I must’ve grown a second head while I was rambling.”
“Of course not. My apologies for staring. The way you share is remarkable and unusual. I’m used to people hiding stuff. Often essential information, in fact.”
“That must make your job harder.”
“In the extreme,” he agreed. His gaze slid to the view of the marsh, the grasses turning to gold and bronze in the fading sunlight.
“The view is even better when you’re out in it. They have a boardwalk,” she explained. “Like a civilized after dinner nature walk. Unless you want dessert? The key lime pie is to die for.”
