Page 71 of Dandelion Sighs

I almost mentioned how that was one of my first dates with Sheridan, too, but that hadn’t been an official date. My chest constricted. We didn’t do those. “When I was there last, kids came out to party.”

“Kids don’t party like adults. It’s not all-day drinking on a boat until I’m scared to let my kids ride a Jet Ski or swim too far out. The bay isn’t big enough.”

“Exactly.” Sheridan needed to succeed. Too bad I’d ruined the best and easiest route to help her do it.

But had I? I had a month. What if I could get Sheridan to marry me by then? What if…

Jensen slapped my back. “I’ll send Sheridan pictures of the hardware, and you can come out. Or I can drop them off. Whatever works.”

I nodded, and he started for his pickup. I’d missed what he said before the hardware, but it didn’t matter. One thing was on my mind.

I had met Sheridan and immediately decided that I couldn’t marry her—for her own good. But I was left feeling like the right decision at the time was now wrong. No, I didn’t want marriage to be a business relationship. I wanted it to be real. I wanted more time with Sheridan. I wanted to know that whatever happened, we’d work through it together. Saving the resort didn’t top the list.

My gaze stroked over the newly painted wall and the blue water glittering in the distance. Yet the resort might be the answer. I was more like the ex she left behind to move to Coal Haven. Could I prove I wasn’t?

I just had to convince her that I was the guy to be by her side. I’d just have to plan it right.

Sheridan

I ducked into the hardware store downtown. “Hey, Carlton.”

“How’s it going today, Sheridan?” He smiled, the lines in his dark-brown skin sinking deeper than they had when I was a kid. His short, black, curly hair was all white now, too, and there was actually another employee who worked for him nowadays. He used to run this whole place with his wife and kids to help once in a while.

“Good. Got started on painting and realized I needed more brushes and tape. And some new outlet covers.”

“Ain’t that how it always goes? Ask my boy, Philip. Jeffrey’s oldest.”

“Thanks.”

The boy in question was a foot taller than me, and he didn’t have to use any stools to grab a new set of brushes from the storage at the top of the shelf.

“Appreciate it,” I told him. I took my haul back to Carlton at the register.

A woman was getting rung up, dark hair pinned into a tight bun and the sunspots on her skin hidden more by a deeper tan now that we’d had more summer. The recognition didn’t register until she turned toward me, her features pinched and her eyes full of judgment.

Shit. “Constance. Hi.”

“Sherry.”

I refrained from rolling my eyes and was going to study the bubble gum and candy bar selection instead, but she sniffed, bringing my attention back.

“I hear you and the maintenance man are hot and heavy.”

Shock punched me in the gut. I clutched my paintbrushes and outlet covers. I could lie or laugh it off, but I didn’t need to hide. My personal business was mine. “I don’t see how that’s anyone’s business.”

“He works for you.”

“And you don’t. Is that where this is stemming from?”

She drew back, her jaw going slack.

Carlton cleared his throat. “That’ll be twenty-two eighty-one, Constance.”

She jerked away to shove her card into the reader. After she went through the prompts, she paused, and my dread climbed higher.

“It’s probably for the best,” she said, her tone sweeter. “He’s a knowledgeable man. Very capable. The resort never ran the same without one.”

My sudden inhale sounded like a gasp. Maybe it was one. The audacity to insult my mother right in front of me. Even worse, she was right. But we were in public, and I wouldn’t stoop to her level. “Different isn’t always worse, but my parents would’ve liked Jasper. Respect was important to them.” I gave her a knowing look.