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23
Lauren really liked Harrison Tate, and she could see why Cass did too.The man was kind, and spirited, and he knew everyone on the island.They all knew him too, and they liked him.They shook hands with him, and laughed with him, and asked him how the build was going.
When they finally got to a table, Lauren took a deep breath and blew it out.She met Harrison’s eyes briefly, and then picked up her menu.“So.”She flipped past the appetizers.She had no room for more than a few bites in this dress.“What would be Cass’s favorite here?”
“The chicken pot pie,” he drawled out without a moment’s hesitation.“She loves it.”
Lauren caught the tail end of a smile on the Southern gentleman’s face before he dipped his chin toward the menu too.She’d told Cass the truth—Harrison was a good man.He didn’t take “getting used to.”
She could also see why her children were a little surprised at Cass’s choice for a boyfriend.He didn’t scream refinement, nor did he seem like the type of man to draw any attention to himself at all.Cass liked being taken care of, which wasn’t a bad thing.Lauren wanted the same.
But West…West had been refined.He never wore anything but slacks and polos, or a suit and tie for work.The man’s most exciting activity was bird-watching, for crying out loud.
Harrison was his complete opposite, in so many ways.
Lauren wondered if Cass had been happy with West, and she could see why her children didn’t like the idea of Harrison.Because it made them wonder the same thing, and while they weren’t great at showing it, they did want their mother to be happy.
“What are you going to get?”Harrison asked, and Lauren looked up from her thoughts.
“I don’t know.”She closed the menu again.“Why don’t you order for me?”
His eyes widened as his eyebrows went up.“You want me to order for you?”
“You know me,” she said.“I’ve been living here almost as long as Cass.”She glanced up as a man approached the table.He filled their water glasses and asked for drink orders.
“I’ll take some Prosecco,” she said, giving him a smile.
“I’ve got one right here for you.”Another man took two more steps and arrived at the waiter’s side.
Blake Williams.
And he held two glasses of champagne, not just one.
Lauren’s throat went dry at the sight of the drink—oh, how thirsty she was—and then turned into a desert at the sight of the man.
Blake wore deep, dark blue slacks that almost had a sheen to them.His dress shirt was light blue, open at the throat, and pulling across his chest like it might be a tad too small.
She swallowed and strengthened her resolve.“No, thank you,” she said.
“You don’t want this Prosecco?”Blake lifted one of the glasses and took a sip from the other.His dark blue eyes sparkled like gems.“It’s good.”
“You probably poisoned it,” she said.
He burst out laughing, and that only drew more attention to their table.The waiter backed up and said, “I’ll give you a minute.”
Harrison stared at her from across the table, and she looked at him for help.He leaned forward and said, “If you want to go sit with him, it’s fine.I’ll order my and Cass’s food to go.”
Had he not heard her?Did Cass tell him nothing about what Blake had done to her?Yes, yes, his son had been hurt.Lauren knew.She didn’t hold a grudge, but she also wasn’t going to make it really easy for the man to walk into her heart, stomp on it, and then leave her bleeding.
She’d texted him to forgive him, but he hadn’t asked her out since.Did he think waltzing up with champagne erased that?Or was romantic?
“No,” she hissed to Harrison.“I don’t want to go out with him.”
“He didn’t say go out with me.”Blake actually slid onto the bench beside her.She scooted over, giving him a glare.“He said you could come sit with me.”He placed the second flute of champagne on the table in front of her, and Lauren almost lunged for it.
Almost.
“I’m fine here.”She folded her arms and glared at Harrison now.“We’re having a great time.”
