Page 21 of Love At The Shore
Or safe.
It had been a while since Nick had a male role model to look up to, though. Under the terms of the divorce, Jenna had primary custody of the kids, but she encouraged them to see their dad as much as possible. She wanted them to have a normal, happy childhood, despite the fact that their parents were no longer together. But her ex-husband traveled all over the world for work. Last month, he’d been in Sweden, and now he’d be in Tokyo for the rest of the summer. Jenna knew Nick missed him. Having a man in such close proximity probably wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
Still, the last thing she needed was Nick on a surfboard. She worried enough about him swimming across the pool without tethering him to a heavy board and putting him in the ocean. Maybe she should see if Ian could teach him how to build something instead.
“I’d rather younottry anything our neighbor does.” Jenna arched an eyebrow. “Ever.”
“Okay.” Nick grinned. “Now tell me how you really feel.”
Jenna shook her head. “No. That isn’t a feeling thing, it’s a health and safety thing.”
She didn’t have anyfeelingsabout Lucas one way or another.
“Suuuure.” Nick’s grin widened and he bit into a slice of watermelon.
“What? It is.” Of course it was. She was only being logical…a rational, reasonable adult. Because someone in the beach house needed to act like a grown-up.
Still, a change of subject was in order. For some reason, she wasn’t sure she wanted her kids prying into her thoughts where Lucas was concerned. She wasn’t altogether sure she wanted to pry into them herself.
“Who wants steak?” She smiled brightly and passed the platter across the table to Nick.
Luckily, a sirloin fresh off the grill was enough to make him forget about becoming Lucas’s mini-me.
At least temporarily.
Tank could’ve smelled Jenna’s steaks from a mile away. Unfortunately for Lucas, her sirloins were much closer in proximity and, therefore, all the more tempting.
At first, Tank’s interest in what was happening on the opposite side of the picket fence was limited to a few subtle twitches of his nose. As Lucas sprawled on one of his patio chairs with a book in his hand and his feet propped on the driftwood coffee cable, Tank tiptoed closer and closer to the fence. Lucas, pretending not to notice, hoped his pup would give up on the idea of a doggy bag. The odds of that happening were slim to none, considering Tank was supposed to be the entire reason the fence had been constructed in the first place.
Right. Lucas still wasn’t buying that flimsy explanation. He saw the way Jenna Turner looked at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention—like she’d forgotten all about his messy porch and lack of houseplants. Every now and then she actually smiled, as if maybe he wasn’t the absolute last person she’d wish to stumble upon in her shared outdoor shower. In those moments, he had a sneaking suspicion that the fence had more to do with him than it did Tank. In all likelihood, the poor dog was just an innocent bystander.
An innocent bystander with a sudden craving for steak.
Tank glanced at the smoke billowing in the air from the other side of the fence, then stared pointedly at Lucas. When Lucas failed to produce a filet mignon out of thin air, Tank let out a pitiful whine.
“Okay, I can take a hint, bud.” Lucas put down his book, headed toward the house and held the door open so Tank could follow him inside.
The dog’s tail was a little white blur of glee as Lucas got his bowl down from the cupboard and filled it with food. Tank’s excitement took a serious hit when he saw nothing but plain kibble in his bowl, and he shot another soulful look at Lucas.
“Believe me, I’d rather be eating steak too.” Lucas tossed a biscuit into his bowl. It was a poor substitution, but Tank happily scarfed it down. “How about we head out to the beach with a shovel instead?”
Tank’s tail started wagging again, which Lucas took as a yes. Once the dog bowl was empty and Lucas had made himself a sandwich—also a poor substitution for sirloin—he threw on a hoodie and grabbed the tall shovel he took down to the shore most evenings. Tank scampered at his heels, and they made their way down the outdoor steps of the beach house. Lucas couldn’t help venturing a glance over the top of the fence, but Jenna and her kids had apparently finished eating dinner. An animated fish was swimming across the television in the living room while Nick and Ally sat on the sofa with a big bowl of popcorn between them.
Lucas wondered briefly what their mother was up to. For some reason, he kept forgetting that they’d gotten off on the wrong foot—maybe because he admired the close relationship she had with her kids.
Lucas would have given anything to have that sort of closeness with his father when he’d been growing up. Jenna was obviously very serious about her writing career. Her frequent noise complaints had gotten that message across loud and clear, but she was even more serious about her parenting. Yes, she was a tad on the controlling side. There was no denying that, but he’d also witnessed the easy affection between her, Ally and Nick, and at times it made him feel oddly hollow inside. Wistful.
But then he’d catch another glimpse of the fence and remember he and Jenna were not interested in each other. Besides, Tank was all he needed.
The dog yipped and ran circles around Lucas’s feet when they reached the foot of the stairs. Their evening beach ritual was one of the dog’s favorite things.
“Lookie here, bud. We already found one,” Lucas said as he stepped off the wooden deck onto the cool sand of the dune.
Tank barked into the empty hole in the ground, his yips echoing in the purple shadows of twilight. Lucas scooped a generous portion of sand back into the hole and tapped it down with the head of his shovel while Tank darted back and forth through the sea oats in search of another hole.
“Don’t dogs usually dig holes?” Jenna’s voice seemed softer with the eventide, but it was most definitely her. Lucas turned around and saw her lingering at the foot of the stairs with a trash bag in her hands. Of course she was doing chores. She looked past him toward Tank. “I swear it looks like he wants to help you fill them in.”
Lucas squinted at his dog, dancing merrily around a wide crater in the damp sand closer to the shore. “He does, actually.”
