Page 37 of Seductive Nights

Margo glanced at Carley. She hugged her and whispered. "Remember what that feels like right there. The flutter in your belly and the goosebumps on your arms."

21

Jace drove them out of town. He felt strongly about being able to spend some time alone. In the beginning, they didn't really like each other all that much or, at least, she didn't like him. It was all a misunderstanding, though. He hoped after last night, he'd managed to get that cleared up. He wasn't a player; he'd never been a player. Of course, he was divorced, and he had an ex who didn't understand or want to understand PTSD. If he were being honest, which he always liked to be, not being able to hold a job when he first came back from Iraq, being scared and confused all the time, and not even understanding PTSD himself, he probably wasn't a good husband. It just put too much stress on the relationship, but it was after that divorce that he finally decided to seek counseling. He'd go for a while. It would feel too personal, too hard to change, and then he'd stop going, only to realize after a time that it was actually kind of helping. So he'd looked up his counselor, started making more appointments, and joined groups to help. Oddly, or maybe not, it was Quinn and Sid who were the biggest help. He'd call one or both of them. Sometimes, they managed group calls, and he talked to them about something that scared him that day or caused him to have a panic attack. When Sid confided that he had the same thing, they really started talking, and then Quinn admitted that there were times when he struggled, too. These three friends, who had been together through some of the toughest times, learned that they were each other's support more than anything else. Then he started feeling better. As he started feeling better, he looked for jobs that he thought he would like to do. He'd been somewhat of a mechanic in the military. Not as good as Sid, and he wouldn't even try. Sid could fix anything. But Jace sort of liked being with people.

Mostly, what he liked was seeing people happy. So that replaced counseling, but when he came down to Blossom Springs at Quinn's urging and started working at this little hole-in-the-wall bar on the beach, he found what he was looking for. He hadn't had an actual PTSD attack since he'd been down here in Blossom Springs. That felt pretty damn good. He was sort of a counselor but in his own way.

He said, "I thought we'd go to Spring Harbor. There's a neat little restaurant there called The Clamshell that I've been hearing an awful lot about. Customers and friends have been there, and I want to see what they're doing that I'm not."

He glanced at Margo and then back to the road. She smiled, "So this is really just a business date?"

He chuckled. "Well, I guess it's both. I wanted to spend time with you. And I wanted to get out of town so we could spend time talking to each other. But hey, I'm a businessman, so yeah, I'm gonna write it off because I want to make the Sandbar the best restaurant it can possibly be."

She turned in her seat and looked at him. He chanced a glance one more time. Man, she had the most beautiful eyes.

"I think that's fair, but I also think you already have a pretty incredible place. People are happy there, Jace. What you've done is fantastic, and you are really good with people. When you told me the other night how much you enjoyed it, I started looking at it from that perspective, and you do look like you're happy there and enjoying it, and that's what makes customers want to come back. If you were stomping around and growly all the time, people would stop coming in. But you make them enjoy themselves because you're enjoying yourself. That's tremendous."

His heartbeat sped up. His cheeks even warmed. "Thank you. I appreciate you saying that." He navigated a corner. "How are you doing, Margo?"

She let out a breath. "You know, I know I'm gonna be alright. This was a betrayal I surely did not see coming. But to be honest with you, if Logan hadn't died, we probably wouldn't have been together much longer, anyway. He had kind of started his life, I suppose, with Sierra, and I just kept working. He was gone. He was off having fishing trips, he said. I thought he had just, you know, found a lot of hobbies, and I poured myself into my work. I've now been realizing Carley's been helping me, and so have you. I wasn't really in a marriage for the last seven years. We were almost just business partners, sometimes sharing a house. The fact that the betrayals kept falling on me. Sierra. Changing his will. The stolen necklace. Each time something came to light, it made me realize even more that we didn't have a life together. I don't know how much longer he would have tolerated or put up with having two lives because he was actually living two lives. It was his own doing, of course, but I'm sure he would have tired of it sooner rather than later, and I would have been dealing with a lot of this stuff on my own anyway. The only difference I can see is that at least I may have had some closure by being able to tell him off or yell or scream." She shrugged, "Or, however that would have looked like coming to an end. But I'm gonna be fine. In so many ways, I kind of already am. Sure, it hurts. Sometimes I fall into thinking about things and wonder why. I think that's the biggest thing of all. I don't know why. Why would he change his will without just saying I want a divorce? And as he was dying, what did he think was going to come of this? That's the thing I don't know. I have never done anything to harm him. I don't know why he would want me to be hurt so badly. But it's over and done with now."

He felt bad listening to her story. A betrayal of an affair is one thing, the continuing betrayals were quite another. "I'm really sorry that you've had to go through this, Margo. Can I look at the bright side?"

She turned her head and her brows rose into her bangs. "Sure, what is the bright side?"

He grinned. "We wouldn't be on this date if he were still alive. Maybe."

She laughed. "You're right there. I'm not the cheating kind."

He reached over and picked up her hand and lay their hands together on the console of his pickup. They interlaced their fingers, and more than once, he looked down at their interlocking fingers. Their hands looked good together. His hands were tanned; hers were lighter. His fingers were bigger; hers were smaller. Her skin was soft, but his was not. The way her hand felt in his made his body warm all over. It was like her size was made just for him. And he liked holding her hand. He liked talking with her. He liked looking over and seeing her sitting in his truck. More than just the fact that she was incredibly beautiful. There was just something about her. Even with at all the trauma she'd gone through recently, in a short amount of time, she was calm. She was fighting a war within herself for all the things that had fallen on her, but outwardly she was calm, and she made him feel calmer.

He liked that.

He pulled into the parking lot and regretfully had to let go of her hand. He parked his truck and hopped out quickly. He strode around the front of the truck and opened her door. He held his hand out for her to use as she alighted from the truck. He didn't let go as they walked into the restaurant.

When they entered the restaurant, he couldn't help but turn to look at the decorating. He leaned down close to her ear, and in a conspiratorial whisper, he said, "So if you see something interesting, you'd like to point out, I'd love your thoughts. Let's do this together."

She laughed. "Okay, well, I can look at it as a real estate agent would look at them or a customer. What I like and don't like. But I'll be honest with you, Jace, I like your motif better. Surfboards, flip-flops, and umbrellas are so much more appealing than fish. There are pictures of crabs, lobsters, and turtles, and none of that is appealing to me as a customer. Kind of makes me think something might stink somewhere along the way. Fishy, you know? What you have going on at the Sandbar speaks of fresh air, sunshine, and happiness and being out in the water, and I think it's perfect."

He tried not to puff his chest out at her praise, but he felt taller than an old oak right now. They approached the hostess counter. "Two, please."

The hostess, who seemed about eighteen, with a blonde ponytail, nodded. "Yeah, come right this way."

He continued to hold Margo's hand as they followed her to the table. The hostess laid two menus on a table. "Here you go. Your server will be here shortly."

He let go of Margo's hand but held her chair out. He strode around the table and sat across from her. He looked into her eyes and smiled. "So you know, as soon as we close on Friday, I'm bulldozing the thrift shop and expanding the Sandbar. It's going to look cleaner and fresher, but I think you're right with the surfboards, umbrellas, and flip-flops. And I'll add some sunglasses or things that speak to being outside in the warm fresh air and having fun relaxing and enjoying yourself."

She smiled at him, and his heartbeat quickened. "Perfect. I think it's perfect."

He grinned. "Glad to hear it. I think we've got a winning plan. Now we just have to tick the days away till Friday, and then again till Monday."

"Why Monday?"

"Oh, I managed to get on the agenda for the town council meeting on Monday to ask about expanding. Quinn, who happens to be pretty damn good at drawing buildings, even though he claims he's not, drew me a picture of what I'd like the Sandbar to look like after renovations. He added a second story and said, 'Imagine the view.' Now, I can't imagine it without the second story."

"Oh," she gasped and clapped her hands quietly. "Oh my god, that would be fantastic. Of course, you would have a patio all the way across the front of the bar on the beach side so that customers could sit outside and eat."

He nodded. "Of course. Complete with ceiling fans overhead to circulate the air, and Hanna brought up little misters."

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