Page 2 of I Wish You Were Mine

As if I need another reason to keep my distance.

Keep my mind out of the gutter.

Besides, I’m a one-girl kinda guy, and that girl is my daughter.

“I’m so glad you picked this place.” She glances around the restaurant. “I heard they have the best oysters in North Carolina.”

I seriously regret making this a lunch meeting. Not like I have any other time in my schedule to interview potentialnannies. But still, I need to keep this interaction strictly professional.

Short and sweet. Coffee somewhere would’ve been better.

Gina, Stede’s hostess, plucks a pair of menus from the stack on her stand. “Would y’all prefer to sit inside or outside?”

Maren looks at me. I look at Gina. Gina immediately looks away, glancing back at Maren.

See? Why can’t Maren look away too?

“Outside,” Maren and I say in unison.

I look at her. “You don’t mind the heat?”

“I grew up in Wilmington, so I’m used to it. Plus, there’s a nice breeze on the water.”

’Coursesummer girllikes the heat. And the oysters. And goddamnit, how am I just noticing that the T-shirt she’s wearing has a Chapel Hill football logo on it? Her résumé told me she cheered at the University of North Carolina. Makes sense she’d be a football fan. I am too.

Gina seats us at a table in the shade. Even so, it’s late August, and the heat—and humidity—are unreal. I unbutton the sleeves of my shirt and roll them up my forearms. I don’t miss the way Maren’s eyes flick over the tattoos that cover my skin there.

Confuses a lot of people, how a guy like me who walks around in custom-made button-up shirts and slacks is also covered in ink. My job description as CFO of a billion-dollar company may be straight edge. My past, though?

Anything but.

“Beautiful,” Maren says.

I look up from the menu I wasn’t reading. “The view?” We’re overlooking Bald Head’s marina, which is surrounded on all sides by the quaint, shingled houses and shops of Harbour Village.

“Of course the view is beautiful. We’re on Bald Head. But Iwas talking about your tattoos. What’s the story there? Seems like you have quite a few.”

I grit my teeth. I don’t like her friendliness. Her interest.

Or maybe I like it too much.

I look back down at the menu. “I was in the Navy.”

A pause. She’s waiting for me to flesh out that thought.

I don’t. It’s rude, I know, but I don’t have the time or patience for niceties. If this works out, I’m going to be her boss. Not her friend.

“Right,” she says.

The server, Rose, arrives to take our drink orders. I go with unsweet tea. Maren asks for a half-sweet, half-unsweet tea with lemon. She glances at me when I ask if she’s ready to order food too, but she doesn’t miss a beat and orders the pimiento-cheese-roasted oysters to start and a kale salad as a main.

Rose chuckles as she scribbles on her notepad. “How funny, Tuck. Her order’s exactly the same as your usual.”

I don’t think it’s funny at all. “I come here a lot,” I explain to Maren as I pop a cinnamon Altoid into my mouth. It makes a cracking sound as I break it with my teeth.

“Lucky you.”

Rose takes our menus and heads back inside the restaurant. I check my watch. Maren shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

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