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“How far out is she taking us?” Cal looked up at him, his smile wide.
Beau shrugged. “She didn’t say.”
As a matter of fact, Kit hadn’t specified today’s destination or provided details of the trip on the evening she’d stood outside Nate’s gate, contemplating Beau’s challenge. She’d simply stared at him for a couple of minutes, glanced once more at his house, then turned on her heel and said over her shoulder, “Be at my place at seven thirty sharp on Saturday morning.”
“I’d liked to bring my son, if that’s okay with you?” he’d asked.
“That’s okay with me,” she’d called back as she’d walked away.
And the date had been set.
Beau grinned. Not that he’d call this a date per se. It was more of a neighborly outing. One offering clean spring air, warm sun, and a lengthy opportunity to spend quality time with Cal. Kit’s presence, her soft gaze, gentle voice, and pretty smile? Beau’s grin grew. Well, they were just bonu—
The front door creaked open, and Royal stepped out onto the porch.
Beau’s grin died. “We’ll wait for Kit on the dock.” He started up the driveway and motioned for Cal to follow.
“But you said—”
“Never mind what I said.” Beau reached back and tugged Cal’s arm, pulling him forward a few steps. “Come on. Pick up the pace.”
Beau continued walking up the driveway, resisting the urge to hurry, and even found the gumption to pause, turn back and offer a friendly smile at Royal. “Morning, Royal.”
The older man glared at him, a hard warning in his eyes.
Cal, oblivious to the tension and having had good manners instilled in him since birth, stopped by Beau’s side, faced Royal and grinned. “Morning, sir. Thank you for inviting us.”
Royal withdrew a cigar and match from his back pocket, struck the match on a rough wooden post on the porch, and lit the cigar with the match, drawing deeply on it. “I didn’t.”
Cal lifted his hand against the bright morning sun that peeked over the roof and squinted. “Didn’t what, sir?”
“Invite you,” Royal grunted. He took another deep pull on the cigar, then exhaled, blowing a thick cloud of smoke in Beau’s direction.
“Either way,” Beau said stiffly, “thank you all the same.” He nudged Cal farther up the driveway. “Go on, son.”
Once they cleared the backyard—which Beau noticed had been cut recently—the Teague’s dock emerged into view, and Kit stood at the end of it, waving them over.
“Who’s on the boat with her?” Cal asked, his step quickening.
Beau eyed the short man by Kit’s side. He stared at them, both hands cupped above and around his eyes to block out the sun, as he leaned forward. “Her brother, most likely. Won’t know ’til we get there.”
Turned out the man was Kit’s brother, and he was as excited for Cal to get on the boat as Cal was to be on it.
“That’s Beau’s son, ain’t it?” Mackey shouted. He bounced in place twice as Kit confirmed it. “Hey, Cole.”
“Cal,” Kit corrected, smiling at Mackey. “His name is Cal.”
“Hey, Cal,” Mackey said. He repeated the name, rolling it over slowly on his tongue, seeming to commit it to memory, then stuck out his hand. “You shake my hand, Cal. That’s so we meet.”
Surprise and a tinge of confusion entered Cal’s expression as he studied Mackey. He dropped his gloves in his bucket, then held out his hand. Mackey snatched it up in both of his and shook it vigorously, laughing.
“That’s so we meet!” Mackey laughed. “That makes us friends.”
Cal smiled, all six feet of his muscular frame jerking forward as Mackey pulled on his hand. “Yeah. What’s your name?”
“Mackey.” He grinned and, still gripping Cal’s hand, backed toward one of the boats tied to the dock. “My name’s Mackey. We met, so you can get on the boat with me now. We can hang out. Get oysters. And you can come over again one day. And I can go to your hous—”
“Slow down, Mackey.” Kit halted him with a hand on his shoulder, then gently removed his grip on Cal’s hand. “You always wait for an invitation to visit someone. And besides, I haven’t met him yet.”
