Page 46 of Seaside Cowboy's Second Chance

“Good afternoon, sir.” She stepped in front of her grandmother, shielding her. Skylar kept her voice even and her posture assertive but non threatening. “You’re Mr. Lane’s son, I presume?”

“That’s him,” Grandma said behind Skylar’s back.

“Don’t you dare talk to them like that!” Dallas was already rushing to her, and it gave her a pleasant jolt.

No matter how many times she kept ruining things between them, even smashing to dust the small crumbs of friendship, here he was—offering her his help again. Joy warred with guilt, though. She’d kept feeding guilt again and again while starving joy.

Okay, it wasn’t about her right now.

She eased her purse containing her gun closer and drew a deep breath of fresh air now tainted with an unwelcome addition of the guy’s expensive cologne and fury. She’d dealt with difficult clients and managed to maintain her cool. And the last thing she needed was to get Dallas into a fistfight again. This could escalate.

Breeze kept barking in the car, prompting Skylar to say, “It’s okay, Breeze. Quiet, please.”

“I’m Skylar Rafferty, Dolores Rafferty’s granddaughter.” She offered her hand to the guy, keeping her grandmother tucked behind her, which wouldn’t last for long. Whatever spunk she used to have, she’d gotten from her grandmother. “I can’t say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but it appears we have a common problem. So why don’t we join forces?”

The man startled and appeared to apply the brakes like Breeze when she rounded a corner too fast. “Excuse me?”

Dallas shielded her, his hands fisted. “You’re trespassing!”

She didn’t need to be shielded, at least not from this visitor, but it gave her a surge of gratitude nonetheless.

The man shifted back. “I have the right to be here. My dad was fine until he met that—”

She cocked her head, her hands sliding to her hips. “That wonderful, amazing Dolores Rafferty, you mean?”

Dallas growled. Breeze echoed that growl in the car and scratched at the window, her claws scraping against the glass.

“And that wonderful, amazing Dolores Rafferty invites you all for some tea. I still have some pastries, too,” Grandma said, as much of an awesome human being as always.

Dallas’s eyes narrowed. “Or we just call the police if you don’t leave.”

The man gaped at him, then deflated. “I’m Grant Lane, and yes, I’m Earl Lane’s son.” He shook Skylar’s hand and to her surprise held it longer than she’d expected. He needed to make a decision.

Meanwhile, she needed to calm the distraught dog. But first, she edged forward and opened the purse wider to help him see the weapon. Grant’s eyes widened, and the look in them turned different. Calculated.

That’s right.

Her lips curved into a semblance of a welcoming smile with something feral on the inside. He’d expected a fragile elderly woman, easy to intimidate, but encountered her armed granddaughter, a younger man more muscular than he was, and a dog baring teeth. Ha!

Plus, he’d soon discover Grandma wasn’t easy to intimidate to start with. “So... what is it going to be, Mr. Lane?”

“Fine,” Grant Lane finally said. “Please call me Grant. Let’s get that tea.”

“Notthattea, butthetea.” Grandma led everyone inside.

Skylar rushed to the car and released Breeze, then hugged her and rubbed her fur. “So sorry.”

Once Skylar headed inside the sea cottage with Breeze, Dallas followed, probably for nothing else than to protect them. No matter how Skylar was used to taking care of herself and relying only on herself now, knowing he’d always have her back sure felt good.

In the house, she wiped Breeze’s paws, using the time to gather her thoughts and develop a strategy while Grandma set the table. Dallas helped her grandmother, but his gaze never wavered from the newcomer. Skylar gave Breeze fresh water and kibble, but the golden retriever drank some water fast and then didn’t let herself get distracted. Skylar petted her dog gratefully. Dallas wasn’t the only one who had Skylar’s back now, but the difference was she could hope to keep Breeze.

The instant Skylar sat down, Breeze stretched on the floor nearby, baring her teeth from time to time for preventive maintenance. Steam rose from cups with tea, sending off whiffs of peppermint, the aroma mixed with the one of flaky fruit-filled pastries. Once a baker, always a baker.

Her nerves still on edge, Skylar looked around the table and then realized her faux pas. “Sorry. I forgot to introduce Dallas Lawrence. He is...”

What was she supposed to say? An ex-boyfriend? Ex-fiancé? Childhood friend? The man of her dreams? Or all of the above? Only she didn’t want any of his titles to have “ex” in them.

“A friend of the family,” Dallas supplied the definition she couldn’t. “I already introduced myself while setting the table.”

---