He patted his trim stomach. “Maybe another time.”
“Careful,” she warned. “Comments like that leave room for me to invite myself along again.” Please let them be on the same page. “You can believe I’m bold enough to do it.”
Something in his smile put a flutter low in her belly. “We’ll see if I catch anything on my next trip out.”
He paid the bill and they walked out through the back, toward the boardwalk that spanned the marsh. “Can I show you my favorite spot?”
“That’s the whole reason I prefer hanging with the locals.” He swept an arm out. “Lead on, local guide.”
She secretly hoped no one else would be there as she led him away from the restaurant toward a quiet stretch that would give them an unobstructed view of the sunset.
And if she was secretly hoping for a romantic kiss in that fading light, no one on earth could blame her.
CHAPTER 7
He chalked it up to a stroke of incomparable good luck that he had met Natalie weeks ago during an earlier visit. The woman knew so much about Brookwell, past and present. She had no idea how much good intel she was giving him. Her insight and observations were thoughtful, often witty, and enlightening.
Between Jess and the Guardian Agency research team, he had an excellent overview of the big picture issues on Brookwell. Jess had been raised here, and now she was raising her own family here. She was also a former cop and looked at life through that lens. If this was a normal security consult, it might’ve been enough. But this crew was too sneaky and Jess wasn’t out here as a beat cop any longer.
Natalie… She offered unexpected insight at every turn. Her history and viewpoint were so different and her perspective on just about any topic was refreshingly candid.
Although he didn’t think she’d given him anything close to a direct lead, her interactions with the people around town gave him new places to start.
Or rather start over. Brookwell wasn’t that big. He felt as if he’d explored all the possible places Royer might be hiding.Distracted with his thoughts, he nearly crashed into Natalie when she stopped.
“Here!” She spread her arms wide. “Look at this. Mother Nature’s glorious daily painting. I think the only person who comes close is Sharon Trumble.”
Trent had to agree. The setting sun washed over the marsh, gilding everything in a soft, warm gold. The tall grasses caught the light, swaying with the gentle breeze above and current of water winding through. At the horizon, the sky was streaked with hot pinks, muted oranges and vivid indigo.
“Takes your breath, right?”
He nodded.
“I totally get it,” she murmured, gazing at the view.
She leaned into the railing and he would’ve sworn she was soaking up the color and energy. Not to keep it for herself, but to give it back through her own artwork later. Something inside his chest shifted uncomfortably. Natalie was a beautiful view all on her own. The last rays of sunlight tangled in her hair as a gust of wind caught and toyed with those silky tresses, turning her into a fantasy.
If he took a picture, would she be able to recreate herself in this moment? He couldn’t think of a price he wouldn’t pay to own that sculpture.
And what the hell was wrong with him?
He couldn’t remember indulging in such whimsical thoughts before meeting her. From the start she’d been one curveball after another. Any and all opinions he formed were repeatedly dashed by reality. A woman who would forever be a mystery despite her bold honesty.
In short, he’d never met anyone like her.
He already knew there wasn’t anyoneelselike her. The folks around town often lumped them together as the Hargrave sisters, but Natalie was unique.
He was absolutely speechless, though it had more to do with her than the stunning sunset.
The urge to touch her went from a simmer to the boiling point, testing his willpower. Did he dare trust that the sparkle in her blue eyes was for him? From what he’d seen, Natalie was open and generous to a fault. That didn’t mean she wanted him to make a move.
“Did you notice the pelicans gliding by while we ate?” she asked.
“Not specifically.” And now he felt like a heel for being ignorant about something that mattered to her.
“It’s a subtle thing, when they glide home to roost in the evenings. Usually at dusk. I find it relaxing, so I tell everyone to keep an eye out. It was one of my favorite things to do at the Hideaway when it was still just our family place.”
He heard the aching nostalgia in her voice. “Sounds like you miss it.”
