Page 23 of Seaside Cowboy's Second Chance

Chapter Five

SKYLAR WASN’T AS TUNEDinto Dallas as she used to be, but she could still tell when something was wrong. She flinched at the memory of the hurt in his eyes when she’d broken off their engagement.

As they walked along the restaurant patio overlooking the beach, Breeze licked her hand again perhaps to provide much-needed support and encouragement.

“Is this spot okay?” His gaze roamed over the place as if he needed to take in every splinter on the wooden deck and every grain of sand on the shore.

“Sure.” She nodded. With it too early for the lunch hour, only one other couple occupied the patio—not that Skylar thought she and Dallas were a couple.

He pulled out a wooden chair for her, and she sat while Breeze stretched on the deck near Skylar’s feet.

The place smelled of fried fish and lime, and she waited to exhale, desperate to hold it in because, just like Dallas’s cologne or Grandma’s peppermint tea, it smelled like home.

All these years later, they still displayed her marine watercolors. The tables sported the pelicans and fish she’d painted on them, even though scratches and grooves now carved across them and the sun had faded the teal and gray colors she’d chosen.

The waitress sauntered over, a lanky teen with blonde hair in a ponytail. She must work here on weekends and summer breaks.

Just like Skylar used to. Partly to help her aunt during busy times, partly to aid her grandmother with their living expenses, and partly to raise funds for art supplies. Now all the art supplies had stayed untouched for almost fifteen years. The paints were surely dry at this point. Nostalgia turned to regret, but then those two often danced together.

After the girl took their drinks order and walked away, Skylar scooted forward. “What’s going on?”

He met her gaze. “What do you mean?”

Breeze tilted her head as if feeling the tension in the air, but she didn’t move otherwise.

“You seem to be... to be on edge.” Argh. Skylar shouldn’t have asked. She drew a deep breath of air where the ocean’s saltiness mixed with the scents of fried shrimp and fresh-baked biscuits.

He could still be upset about their breakup, and she couldn’t blame him. He wouldn’t forgive her. She hadn’t forgiven herself.

For more things than one. She stared past him at cerulean waters so serene it was difficult to believe they could rise dangerously in a storm. Rise so high and come so fast they could swallow a person and carry them far, far away.

She suppressed a shudder. When she’d been growing up, the ocean used to calm her and bring at least some peace after both her parents had disappeared one after the other.

But not any longer.

What could she have done differently once she’d remembered some things? She wasn’t sure, but there must’ve been something.

She opened one of the laminated menus she used to know by heart. Her drawings of Aunt’s dishes stared at her. Everything in this hometown mocked her former passion, and it was difficult to bear. It was easier to deal with numbers in spreadsheets. But Dallas was watching her, so she hid behind a menu again, angry at the heat in her stomach. Some passion wasn’t exactly former.

A few unfamiliar dishes had joined the menu but not many, and she took comfort in the familiarity.

Their third date was here. Weirdly, sometimes she couldn’t remember the things she did last week. But she could remember their every date, every kiss, every word, every glance....

She slid her fingers over the smooth menu as if she could touch the lost hopes and desires that had been crushed like debris in a shipwreck. Her fingers shifted toward his, finding a familiar path, but she stopped herself. Touching him now was forbidden.

Then she peeped up again at the man who embodied her past and had once embodied her future.

His eyebrows lifted, his expression puzzled. He must’ve said something, and she’d missed it.

“What did you say?” Just looking at him pained her, but then what did she expect?

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