Page 32 of The SEAL's Duchess
She pushed through the diner door, the warmth of Benji’s wrapping around her as she stepped inside. The air was rich with cinnamon and sugar, the clatter of plates, a burst of laughter from a booth near the window. It should have thawed her, all that noise and ordinary joy, but the chill clung stubbornly under her skin.
Louisa glanced up from behind the counter, wiping her hands on a cloth. “Well, look who’s back. How were the sandwiches?” Her eyes crinkled with her smile.
Ivy set the empty flask down with a too-loud clink. “Perfect. Thank you.”
“Knew you’d like ’em.” Louisa grinned. “That ham keeps half the loggers alive through winter. And Benji swears I put too much cheddar on, but what does he know?” She slid a plate of pie to a waiting customer, then gave Ivy a longer look. “You’re pale, sweetheart. Everything all right?”
“Just tired.” She spoke too quickly, the words painful.
Louisa didn’t push, only gave a brisk nod. “Well, tired or not, I lost my best pie-slicer this morning. Jenny Morrison’s down with a stomach bug. The preschool fair’s on Saturday, and we’re short-handed. Could you lend us a hand for a few hours?Nothing glamorous, just keeping kids from licking the frosting bowls clean. Maybe a spot of face painting.”
Ivy blinked, then nodded before she’d thought it through. “Of course.”
Somewhere behind her, the coffeemaker hissed, and a waitress called out an order. The sounds were impossibly normal.
The bell over the door chimed crisp against the diner’s hum. A woman in a sheriff’s uniform stepped inside, trailed by a stocky deputy who immediately gravitated toward the pastry display case.
The diner’s hum dipped as the sheriff came and joined Ivy at the counter. Blonde hair slicked back in a bun, badge polished to a gleam. Authority rolled off her in waves. “Afternoon, Lou. The usual. How are you?”
“Good, honey.” Louisa poured coffee, then added cheerfully, “Sheriff, this is Ivy Lambourne, one of our visitors from England. Ivy, meet Sheriff Sarah Meyer.”
Meyer. Ivy’s heart thudded a beat too hard.
Sarah’s handshake was firm, her gaze assessing. “Welcome. News gets around. I was wondering when we’d cross paths.” Her smile touched her mouth but not her eyes, which tracked Ivy with quiet precision. “My brother mentioned you asked sharp questions out on the Vega.”
Brother.Ivy’s pulse kicked, her throat suddenly dry. Wyatt or Ryder?
Shewantedit to be Ryder.
Which made it worse.
“Ryder rarely says much about work.” Her tone mellowed as she tipped sugar into her cup. “Or people.”
ItwasRyder.
Heat climbed her throat, and she dropped her gaze to the counter, unable to meet Sarah’s eyes. Ryder had talked abouther. And instead of joy, the knowledge burned, because she’d already pushed him away.
Sarah continued, “Louisa had mentioned you and your brother might be looking at the rigs. Folks here keep a close eye on that kind of thing.”
Ivy manufactured a smile. “We’re considering our options.”
“I was hoping to catch you before you left town. Why don’t you and your brother come to dinner Saturday night? Community relations, you know. It’s always good to get to know anyone considering becoming part of Aurora Cove.”
I should decline.
But beneath the thought lurked a hungry need to know more—about Ryder’s world, his family, the life he had here.
“Um. That would be?—”
“Seven o’clock work for you?” Sarah’s tone was polite but firm, leaving no space to refuse.
What if Ryder’s there? She didn’t know whether that would make it easier—or infinitely worse. Her pulse leaped hard enough she was sure Sarah must hear it. She couldn’t ask about that—not without revealing too much.
It’s just a meal. And George will be there. If we invest, it can only help to build bridges.
“Thank you. That would be lovely.”
“Here’s my address.” Sarah scribbled on a business card and slid it across the counter. “Looking forward to it. See you at seven.”
