Page 15 of Love At The Shore
“Do you think you could give me some pointers?” Nick’s eyes brimmed with hope.
Lucas narrowed his gaze. “On surfing?” Nick’s mom would just love that, wouldn’t she?
“Just swimming,” he said. The metal retainer on his bottom teeth reminded Lucas of his own awkward middle school years. “I need to cut my time to make swim team next year.”
Nostalgia aside, Lucas’s response was automatic. “You know, I’m not much of a teacher.”
Nick wasn’t giving up. “Even if—”
“Sorry,” Lucas said, cutting him off. He didn’t want to give the kid even a whiff of false hope. “It’s really not my thing, buddy.”
Lucas had no interest in trying to be a role model for Jenna Turner’s precious children. One wrong step and he’d never hear the end of it. She already seemed to think his lack of houseplants meant he was some kind of deadbeat. Since when had ferns become a hallmark of responsibility?
Besides, dogs were much easier than kids. Dogs were sweet. Dogs were loyal. They loved naps and didn’t mind eating the same food every day. They didn’t require help with their homework or braces for their teeth or a college education.
Best of all, dogs loved with their whole hearts. Lucas didn’t have to worry about letting Tank down. His dog had never once looked at him with anything other than complete adoration in his soft, brown eyes.
Kids, on the other hand, were far more complicated.
And if the crushed expression on Jenna’s son’s face was any indication, they were also much easier to disappoint.
What a difference a day makes.
Or more accurately, a fence.
Jenna stood at the pretty turquoise stove in her half of the beach house and flipped a pancake over with a flick of the spatula. Two place settings of beachy pastel china were already set out on the kitchen counter, along with a pitcher of fresh orange juice and warm maple syrup.
She was in a far better mood this morning than the previous one. She hadn’t heard a peep from the other side of the duplex since the discussion surrounding the fence. No loud guitar music, no barking, no Lucas.
It was bliss.
She’d slept like a baby and even managed to wake up early enough to write two full pages before getting Nick and Ally out of bed. Boom. Meanwhile, Mr. Slack would probably roll out of bed at noon.
Fine. He could do whatever he wanted over there across the fence. Jenna didn’t care one way or another. She had a book to write and pancakes to make. Since she was in such a celebratory mood, she’d tossed a generous portion of chocolate chips into the batter. Ally would be thrilled.
Jenna called upstairs, ready for a stampede. “Who wants the first stack of pancakes?”
Her kids considered pretty much everything a competition, so she figured they’d be barreling down the stairs within seconds. But when she glanced at the ceiling, bracing for impact, there was no response whatsoever.
She tried again. “Nick? Ally?”
Still nothing from inside the house, but a few familiar yips drifted through the open window.
Tank, of course. But why was he barking all of a sudden, just when Nick and Ally had gone conspicuously missing?
Oh no.
Jenna dropped the spatula as Lucas’s words rang in her head, clear as a bell.
I’ll keep my furry kid on this side if you keep your kids on that side.
She couldn’t be the one to break their delicate truce. Not after he’d looked at her like she was a crazy person for dividing the deck into halves. If Ally and Nick were on the other side of the fence, he’d never let her live it down. It would be humiliating—beyondhumiliating—and she wasn’t sure she could take five straight weeks of looking at Lucas’s smug surfer grin.
Even if that grin was framed by a set of oh-so-appealing dimples.
She blinked. What was she thinking? She couldn’t possibly find Lucas McKinnon attractive. There was nothing nice about him whatsoever. Not his sandy wetsuit that he constantly left lying around, not his surfboards that were strewn all over the patio, and not his late-night guitar music. Not even his dimples.
Or the goofy voice he used when he talked to his scruffy little dog.
