Page 46 of The Spy Who Ghosted Me

Mercer waited patiently for me to speak, an inviting smile on his face.

I honestly didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t exactly a touchy-feely kind of guy. The only thought that came to mind was, “Sabrina and I come from different worlds. Worlds that probably shouldn’t collide.” I have no idea why I was being so honest with the man. No doubt he found the situation odd, considering Sabrina and I had just supposedly reconciled.

“Been there.” Mercer patted his knee. “Callie’s parents were none too happy when I rolled into Charming Cove.”

“Why is that?” I asked, more comfortable talking about him than myself.

“I don’t know how much Sabrina has told you, but I was just out of a bad marriage and much older than Callie, who at the time was twenty years old. She was small town and I was big city. Her parents hated me, especially her father, who pointed his shotgun at me a few times. Not only did he disapprove of me dating his daughter, but he thought I was going to ruin Charming Cove by bringing in the resort. I broke up with Callie a few times over it all, feeling like the challenges were too big to overcome. But thankfully she’s a stubborn one and she wouldn’t have it. To her, love can conquer all, even if most of this town believed that she married me for my money. She refused to listen to the naysayers. We both knew the truth.”

“And what was that?”

“That what we had was real. Just like I believe what you and Sabrina have is real.” Mercer dipped his chin to his chest and gave me a knowing look.

“How can you know that? You barely know me,” I questioned.

“This is true, but I know my Sabrina, and unlike her sister, she wants real life. That includes the good, the bad, and the ugly of it all. She’s smart enough to know life isn’t a fairy tale.”

That might be true, but Sabrina had no idea about some of the bad and ugly things I’d had to do. She might change her tune about not wanting a fairy tale if she knew. But the most interesting part of what Mercer said wasn’t about Sabrina. “You don’t think what Lexi and Soren have is real?” I was curious to know.

“I think they both believe it is, but I don’t think so. I have a feeling that reality will come calling for both of them, and they’re not going to like it.”

“And yet you’re letting Lexi getting married.”

“Son, it’s not up to me. She’s a grown woman and can make up her own mind. Not that she would listen to me anyway. Besides, I learned a long time ago it’s best not to get in the way of a Belle woman. And sometimes the lessons we need to learn the most come in the hardest ways possible.”

“You think her marriage to Soren will teach her a lesson?”

“Time will tell. Either way, I’ll be here to wipe away the tears when she needs me to.”

Interesting. He obviously didn’t think Izan was the right man for his daughter, yet he was going to let her go through with it. In some ways, it was admirable what he was doing, even though he had no idea the kind of man Izan was. I was sure that if he did, there was no way he’d let Lexi anywhere near him.

“Will I be wiping away Sabrina’s tears soon?” Mercer asked, point-blank.

I swallowed hard. The man pulled no punches. “The last thing I want to do is make Sabrina cry.” I already knew I had, and it killed me.

“But you fear she’s in for some tears?” Mercer pressed.

I shifted on the stool that was getting more and more uncomfortable. “Unfortunately, yes. I don’t have any idea how to be what she needs and wants me to be. I don’t even know where to begin. My father and mother ran off a long time ago and no one cared enough to take their place. My job is my life.” I had no idea what possessed me to say those things to Sabrina’s father.

“Hmm,” Mercer said while eyeing me carefully. “It’s an awful shame about your parents. A child’s first teachers are his mother and father. Most of the time, I would say parents teach you what to do, but in your case, they taught you what not to do. That’s still a valuable lesson.”

“What are you saying?” I realized that while I may know how to disarm a dozen different bombs and speak over twenty languages, when it came to emotional intelligence, my IQ was low.

“I’m saying you know the wrong things to do, so don’t do them.” He patted my knee. “Best get back to work.”

While I contemplated his words, I stared at the intricately carved arch and asked, “Who taught you about woodworking?”

“My father-in-law,” he said with a grin.

I cocked my head. “I thought he didn’t like you.”

“It took some years, but he came around. He recognized that I needed a father to teach me the right things to do,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

“You didn’t have a father?”

“Had one, and like you, he taught me all the wrong things to do. He was a liar and a cheat and broke my mother’s and my heart.”

“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say.

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