Coral Holiday

Chapter 1-2

Two young women at a nearby table reached out to rub Scout’s neck. That dog and its owner sure could melt hearts.

Marina turned back to Jack. Maybe friendship was all he wanted. She had been satisfied with that for years when the twins were young, but now, she was ready for a relationship. If she had any courage at all, she should ask him right now and get it over with.

Just as she opened her mouth to speak, a torrent of staccato yaps exploded on the patio, followed by deep barks.

“Oh, my gosh, Pixie and Scout are getting into it,” Marina cried, tearing from the kitchen. Jack flew right behind her.

Pixie had escaped Gilda’s backpack and was running circles around Scout, who looked bewildered for a moment before deciding the Chihuahua wanted to play. Leaping around Pixie, Scout slid into a bistro table, toppling it. The potted aloe vera plant Marina had placed on the table crashed to the deck.

“Scout, wrong!” Marina cried, lunging to protect another teetering table and plant.

Jack tackled Scout, who squirmed in his arms, still eager to play with the enchanting little Pixie.

Gilda scooped up the Chihuahua and hugged her tightly. “Naughty, naughty girl.” She spoke in a loving sing-song tone and smothered Pixie with kisses.

“Well, that’s a mixed message if I ever saw one,” Marina said as she picked up a table. Sort of like Jack.

“I have to put Scout into an obedience training class,” Jack said, looking contrite.

Marina pressed the shocked succulent back into its pot and dusted her hands. “I think Pixie started it.”

Gilda blushed. “She can be a little tease, dancing around dogs. But at least we have her kleptomania under control. Mummy takes her to counseling every week, don’t I, baby-kins?” Gilda kissed Pixie again before stuffing her wriggly form into the puppy backpack she carried.

Marina could only shake her head. “It’s all over, and I have sundaes to make.”

“Yay,” Leo and Samantha cried, clapping.

Marina returned to the kitchen. After washing her hands, she brought out bowls for ice cream. From the corner of her eye, she saw Jack sit on the bench at the chef’s table. He seemed embarrassed over Scout’s display. She poured a glass of water for him and slid it across the counter.

“Thanks,” Jack said, drinking deeply. “So, do you still plan to serve boxed dinners at the theater?”

A safe topic, Marina thought. “That business was pretty good in the summer, so it should help us through the slower winter season. Ivy and Shelly also asked if I could prepare boxed spa lunches for the wellness weeks they’re planning at the inn.”

“The key is to attract people to Summer Beach in the off-season,” Jack said, rubbing the day-old scruff on his chin. “Ivy’s art show and your Taste of Summer Beach both did well.”

During the Scout and Pixie bout, Marina had lost her nerve to ask him the question that had been keeping her up at night. She had never been great at idle chit-chat, and he seemed to be skirting a topic, but she could hardly look away from him. Intelligence shone in his eyes, and she longed for a deeper connection with him.

The truth was, she was afraid to hear his answer. “And how is your book writing?” she asked instead, wincing inside at her lack of originality.

“Your grandmother has quite a lot of stories,” Jack replied. “The publisher just ordered another book in the series, so I’m working on a new round of illustrations. Never thought I’d be living in Summer Beach with a son and a house and a dog—let alone spending my time sketching and editing children’s stories.”

“It’s a long way from fancy Pulitzer prizes.”

Jack frowned at that. “I never asked for that recognition. Those honors are earned, and I could have easily lost my life for that story.”

Having worked as an investigative journalist until the sabbatical he’d taken in Summer Beach, Jack was no stranger to hazardous situations. A thought occurred to Marina. “Do you miss developing important stories?”

“I’ve already done that, and I turned down the last assignment offered to me.” Jack dismissed the idea with a slight wave of his hand, but a shadow crossed his face. “It’s all about Leo now. Vanessa’s health is improving, but I’m still trying to do as much for Leo as she’ll let me—school, homework, sports.”

The coffee maker sputtered to an end, and Marina brought out a cup, thinking as she reached for the pot. Young Leo was the product of a desperate one-night stand on a dangerous assignment. Vanessa hadn’t shared the boy’s existence with Jack until she suffered a serious health scare and began to put her affairs in order. Even Jack admitted that he hadn’t been attractive husband or father material back then, and Vanessa didn’t want to marry anyway. Marina had to admire the woman’s strength and foresight to provide for her son.

As she poured coffee for Jack, she tried to read the look in his eyes. Was it disappointment or regret over leaving a high-powered career? Or, maybe the demands of sudden parenthood were overwhelming him. Whatever it was, he looked haggard.

With a grateful grin, he lifted the cup to his mouth and sipped. “Nectar of the gods. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Marina tilted her head. “What do you mean by that?”

“Coming here with Leo is the bright spot in my day.” Jack touched her hand again, smoothing his fingers over hers. “We’re good friends, Marina. I feel like I can ask you anything. You make this inept new dad look good in Vanessa’s eyes. She’s trusting me more with Leo, and that’s thanks to you.”

Good friends. His choice of words stung her, though she tried not to let it show. Jack really didn’t know what he wanted. If only she could control the way her chest tightened whenever he was around.

“I’ve nurtured my share of bruises, sunburns, and broken hearts for my kids,” she said lightly. “You’ll get the hang of it before long.”

She slipped her hand from under his and hurried to the pantry for hot fudge and chopped nuts.

When she returned, Jack frowned. “You seemed sort of abrupt just then. Is everything okay?”

Marina twisted her mouth to one side as she heated hot fudge in a small saucepan over a burner. “We’re both busy, and I understand the demands you’re facing. You’ll get through this.” She opened the freezer.

“With you,” he added, holding her gaze. “You don’t know how much our talks mean to me.”

“You’ll always find me right here behind the counter.” Was he just here for coffee with a side of parental advice? Marina shoved a scoop into a container of vanilla ice cream. She plopped generous servings into two bowls and drizzled hot fudge over them.

Jack watched her. “Leo likes extra nuts.”

She added whipped cream and chopped almonds, and she topped the sundaes with fresh cherries.

“I’ll take these out to them,” Marina said, slipping from the kitchen. Kai had already left to prepare for her event.

Clutching his coffee, Jack followed her.

After serving the children, Marina tidied a few tables before making her way back to the kitchen. Her grandmother, the incomparable Ginger Delavie, was in the kitchen sorting through tea bags. She had put on a kettle and brought out two of her favorite cups. With her imperious posture and perennial can-do attitude, Ginger exuded an air of capability. The Coral Cafe existed only because she’d encouraged Marina to take over the old guest cottage.

“Jack and Leo have become quite the regulars,” Ginger said, nodding toward their table. “But he’s spoiling the boy with those sundaes every day.”

“Leo plays a lot of sports. He burns it off.”

After selecting an assortment of tea, Ginger lowered her voice. “Anything interesting with Jack to report?”

Feeling frustrated, Marina shook her head. She could feel heat flushing her cheeks.

“I’m not being nosy, but I am looking out for you,” Ginger said. “After that dreadful Grady, it’s clear that you need a second opinion. As for Jack—”

“Our relationship just fizzled out,” Marina said, although she appreciated Ginger’s concern. After their parents died, her grandmother had always looked after her and her sisters with utmost love and care.

“I’m sorry,” Ginger said, crestfallen. “I honestly thought Jack was better than that.” She smoothed a manicured hand over her russet-colored hair, freshly cut and tinted at the village salon. “Still, look at that as a test run, my dear.” She paused. “Jack is a brilliant collaborator, by the way. This will be a marvelous series of books. I hope you won’t feel too awkward around him.”

“I’ll be okay. He must be working hard on them.”

Arching an eyebrow, her grandmother nodded sagely. “Did he ever ask you out?”

Marina shook her head. “He just called me a ‘good friend’ and told me how much he values my parenting advice.” She flipped a hand over her shoulder. Was he really that dense?

Ginger touched her shoulder. “Good friends sometimes turn into more.”

“Not this time,” Marina said. “Earlier, I thought we had more between us.” As she put away her ingredients, she wondered if a few kisses counted as more to men like Jack who’d traveled the world and had probably known countless women. Maybe a few kisses didn’t mean anything to him.

“He needs to settle into his new role and station in life,” Ginger said, looking thoughtful.

Marina could tell her grandmother hated to give up hope. “So, are you saying I should wait for him?”

“That was an impartial observance, my dear. Don’t extrapolate to find the answer you want. I’m not usually wrong, but I could be this time. You must let Jack go. Remember, life has a way of working out—but only if you work at it.” Just then, the tea kettle whistled, and Ginger waved at another older woman who appeared at the entry to the patio. “Perfect timing. There’s my friend. We’re having tea before Kai’s big announcement party. What fun that will be. I’ll go with Maeve, but I’ll see you there.”

“I’m not going.”

Ginger raised her brow in surprise. “Just because your sister acts confident, don’t think she doesn’t need the support of her family. This is her first show at a new theater, and it will benefit all of Summer Beach. You’re not busy, so put up your closed sign and join us for an hour.” She straightened the collar of her starched plaid shirt.

Marina smiled. Even in her casual pressed jeans, Ginger was a force. “I’ll think about it.”

“That sounds like a no.”

Marina hugged her grandmother. “Don’t extrapolate, Ginger.”

Just then, a tall, well-built man strolled onto the patio dining area. Glancing at him, Marina said, “See, I have to stay. I have another customer.” She picked up a menu and made her way to greet him.

“Welcome to the Coral Cafe,” Marina said, gesturing toward a prime spot near Ginger. “This table has the best ocean view.”

“Looks like they all do. What a beautiful location.” He looked at her curiously and hesitated. “Excuse me. You’re Marina, aren’t you?”

“Do I know you?”

“You might not remember me, but I was Stan’s friend. We served in Afghanistan together.”

Memories of evening card parties and laughter surged through her mind. “Is that you, Cole?”

A smile lit his weathered face. “That’s right. I didn’t know you had a cafe. Last I heard you were serving up the daily news in San Francisco. This is quite a change.”

“Sometimes life throws us a curve,” Marina said. Although his face had aged and a thin scar slashed one eyebrow, Cole Beaufort was still as attractive and fit as he’d always been. He and Stan had been very close.