Page 15 of Return to Rosewood Beach

She hesitated, looking sad all of a sudden, which confused him.

“My father recently passed away.” Her voice was soft but steady. “I’m here for the funeral.”

He swallowed, his heart going out to her. “I’m so sorry to hear that. My condolences.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

“So your family lives here in Rosewood Beach?”

“Yes. My mother and two of my siblings live here, and another sister and I are back for now.”

He liked the way she said “for now.” It implied she wasn’t about to disappear back to the big city. He found himself hoping that she wasn’t going to.

“Well, we’re glad you’re back.” He smiled at her, feeling a little tongue-tied and awkward. His heart was thumping in his chest as he wondered about her.

She flushed slightly, her hands resting delicately on the end of the table as if she wasn’t sure what to do with them. She glanced at Macey, who had gone back to her drawing, and smiled hesitantly, as if she didn’t have much experience with children.

“She’s a cutie.” Julia turned back to him, still looking slightly flushed.

“That she is.” He glanced down at his daughter for a moment, fondness filling him, then returned his attention to Julia. “Do you… do you have any nieces or nephews?”

He’d been about to ask her if she had any children of her own, and then decided that was too forward. He glanced at her hands and noted that she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

“I do, one niece. She’s twelve now. I’ve been away so much it feels like she went from baby to pre-teen in the blink of an eye.”

He chuckled. “Her mother probably feels the same way even though she was there the whole time. I can’t believe how fast this little one is growing up.”

Macey looked up and offered a chubby smile, seeming to be aware that she was being talked about. Cooper chuckled again.

“Are you here for breakfast?” he asked Julia, glancing around and wondering where her table was. They were fairly close to the door, in a large room, but he didn’t see any empty tables or booths around them.

“That was my plan. Unfortunately, they’re too busy here this morning. I’m happy they have the business, but it means I’ll have to go somewhere else.”

“I’m sorry to hear that?—”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m on my way to The Lighthouse Grill anyway. It’ll be easy for me to just grab some breakfast there.”

“Oh, well, would—you can eat with us if you want.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he worried that he’d been too forward. She immediately flushed a little bit and blinked a few times. “I mean, since there is nowhere to sit. Or you could join me—us—another time. Or…”

By that point, he felt sure that he was also flushed pink. He wanted to kick himself, realizing how sorely out of practice with flirtation he was.

“Thanks for offering,” she said, smiling at him almost shyly. “But I’ve waited here long enough and I should get going. Besides, I don’t want to skip the line, if you know what I mean?” She gestured back to where other people were still waiting for a table.

He felt disappointment flop in his stomach, although he had to admit her excuses were valid, and he liked that she was being considerate to the people in line behind her. “Of course. Well, I hope you have a good day.”

“You as well.” She hesitated for a moment, and then she smiled at him. “I hope I’ll see you again.”

“Likewise,” he stammered, and she turned around and made her way toward the door of the restaurant. He watched her go, feeling his chest expand with hope.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Alexis listened to the sound of her sisters laughing and smiled. She took a sip of her lavender honey tea, feeling a cool breeze brush against her face through an open window.

She and Julia were at Hazel’s house, and the three of them were sitting in the living room together, going through the rest of the old family photo albums. It had turned out that there were a few of them upstairs on a shelf in Vivian’s house that Dean hadn’t known about, so the sisters had volunteered to go through them together and pick out any photographs that they felt should be in the slideshow that Dean was making for their father’s funeral.

Hazel had made them all mugs of tea, and Alexis found her beverage soothing and refreshing. It was fun to look at all of those memories with her sisters, but underneath it all was an undercurrent of grief, filling her chest with a bittersweet ache.

“Do you remember this Christmas?” Hazel pointed eagerly to a photograph of their dad dressed in a Santa costume. “He and Mom felt so bad about telling us that Santa wasn’t real, and we were all like, ‘We know.’”

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