Page 30 of Serenity Harbor

“You don’t sound particularly enthusiastic about that.”

“Is it that obvious?”

Considering he had just been thinking he was the most unobservant man on the planet, it must be. “A little,” he admitted.

“My mother and stepfather are having a gathering,” she said. “Dinner and board games with a few friends. Even though it’s late, I doubt they’re finished yet.”

“You don’t like parties? That surprises me.”

Her gaze narrowed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, sensing he had pissed her off somehow. “You just seem to have so many friends in Haven Point. I assumed you would enjoy socializing with them while you’re here.”

“Not this particular gathering. My mom is trying to set me up with one of her friend’s sons. She confessed after I called to tell her I was working late.”

The microwave signaled his food was ready. He pulled it out and set it on the kitchen island. To his delight, she poured a glass of water and sat down across from him.

“And you don’t want to be set up.”

She sighed. “Something I have told her again and again. She refuses to get the message.”

“Some moms can be pushy.” So he had heard, anyway.

“If there were Olympic competitions for stubborn, interfering mothers, mine would win a medal without question. Charlene can’t get it through her head that I’m no longer the same old flighty Katrina, willing to forget everything important to me, everything I’ve worked for, because some cute guy smiled at me.”

“Flighty?You?Are you serious?”

He had a hard time imagining it. The woman he had met was loyal and dedicated, patient to a fault and endlessly kind.

She looked gratified by the doubt in his voice, and he wanted to think some of her coolness warmed up a bit. “Yes. Unfortunately. I love my mother, but when she looks at me, she only sees what she wants to see. What she’salwaysseen. She expects me to be distracted by the next good-looking guy to come along. I think that’s what she’s praying for—what she’s counting on—so she’s doing everything possible to throw every available guy in town at me. And some who aren’t even available.”

The mystery of Katrina Bailey deepened every time he talked to her. She painted a picture of a lighthearted, flirty woman only out for a good time, but that didn’t resemble the woman he had entrusted with his brother.

And what was her mother trying to distract herfrom?

If he kept her talking, perhaps he might finally begin to find out a few answers. “Why would she think that?” he asked.

“I’m not saying she doesn’t have some basis for that. I haven’t, um, always made the best decisions when it comes to men.” Her color heightened a little, and she looked down at the table. “That’s in the past, though, and my mom refuses to see that I’ve changed. Thateverythinghas changed.”

“Because of what waits for you in Colombia.”

“Yes. Exactly!” she exclaimed. “I never would have guessed you would be one of the few people in Haven Point who seems to understand and appreciate that. Thank you!”

“You may wait to hold your applause,” he protested. “I was only making an observation. I never said a word about understanding and appreciating anything. How can I, when I don’t even know what you’re talking about. I have no idea what waits for you in Colombia.”

She studied him, her blue eyes glittering. “Do you really want to know?”

Yes. Hell yes.

“You’re caring for my brother. Of course I want to know. What is so important in Colombia that you can’t wait to leave your family and your life here in Haven Point?”

Her soft, pretty features twisted with indecision for a long moment, then she picked up her tablet and scrolled through it.

“This,” she finally said, holding out the tablet. Bowie reached for it, wondering if he was going to be forced to look at some beefy South American dude.

The display didn’t show a photo of a man. Instead, a little girl about three with long dark braids and the familiar features of someone with the extra chromosome he knew led to Down syndrome smiled back at him.

“Wasn’t expecting that,” he said truthfully. He studied the picture, struck by the sweetness of the little girl’s smile and the light in her eyes. “Who is she?”

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