3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Addy closed her paperback mystery, gazed up at the swaying branches above her comfy hammock, and smiled around a contented sigh.
Though she was no closer to deciding what to do about her mom, her career, all of it, Liv’s advice rang true.
This funky little beach town gave her space to breathe and let her ideas percolate.
Not to mention how happy Snoot seemed here.
Sprawled beneath her hammock, he lifted his head now and then to sniff the briny breeze.
A few more days like this, and she’d have it all figured out. In the meantime, she’d enjoy this perfectly cool, sunny weather, this perfectly cozy cottage, this perfect peace.
After their morning beach walk and encounter with the hunky, flirtatious lighthouse keeper, she’d devoured a huge breakfast at Cassie’s Coastal Café, then strolled through the shops on the west side of Main Street, netting some sea-mineral bath bombs, a scarf in ocean hues, and a stack of paperbacks from Bookish, the cute bookshop near the end of the touristy half mile.
Souvenir Galaxy and the hippie crystal shop could wait until tomorrow. Or the next day.
How wonderful not to be in a hurry for once! No pager buzzing in her pocket, no post-op check-ins and electronic paperwork, no mountain of work emails…
Her phone pinged. Acting on autopilot, she pulled it from her pocket. And just like that, her perfect peace imploded.
Colonel Magda Okafor, the commander of Madigan Army Medical Center, wouldn’t interrupt Addy’s leave if it weren’t urgent. Liv would scold her for answering, but when duty calls…
“Ma’am?”
“Drop the formality, Addy.” Her boss’s voice sounded brittle and exhausted. “I’m sorry to bother you, but the brass is on my ass about staffing. I’m afraid I’ll need your decision by the first of the month.”
“But that’s—” Addy double-checked her phone calendar.
“The day after Halloween. And you’ll still be on leave.
I know, Addy, and I hate to put this kind of pressure on you, but I’m up against the wall.
By COB next Friday, I have to submit my staffing plan.
You know how it is—lots of folks retire at the end of the calendar year, take terminal leave, blah blah blah.
I’d hoped I could give you more time, but I just can’t. ”
A sudden heaviness weighed Addy’s limbs as she ended the call and sank back into the hammock.
She’d thought she had until the end of November to decide whether to extend her Army service for another term.
Making big life decisions quickly had never been her forte, and now, she had one week to choose: more of the same?
Or play the dutiful daughter and return to a town she hated?
Or something else—as if she had any frickin’ idea what that might be.
“Arrgh. This was supposed to be a vacation.” Addy doubled over and hugged her roiling middle.
Snoot’s cold, damp nose prodded her palm.
“I’m okay, buddy.” She ruffled his thick fur. “Actually, we both know that’s a lie, but life goes on, whether we’re ready or not, right?”
His soul-searching gaze coaxed a smile to her lips. “What do you say we go for a sniff on the beach?”
Snoot whuffed his excitement and bounced on his front paws.
Rising with a groan, Addy went inside to gather the scent tins she’d learned how to use at the military K-9 adoption program.
Working dogs need a job to stay healthy and happy, the trainer had explained, and since Snoot’s job was scent detection, she enriched their walks by hiding targets for him to find—cotton balls soaked with anise or clove.
He adored the challenge, and she enjoyed watching his joyful, tail-whipping searches.
One of the program’s teachers had suggested she train Snoot for search and rescue work. Addy loved the idea, but with her current schedule, she just couldn’t spare the time. Hell, she hardly had time to think, much less develop a new passion.
She forced her tense shoulders down and grabbed Snoot’s leash. “It’s too beautiful a day to spiral into negativity—and we have a date tonight!”
After their romp on the beach, Addy returned to her cottage windblown, sun-pinked, and lighter of spirit.
How incredibly lucky she was to be stationed within driving distance of such a gorgeous place.
If she opted for another tour in the Army Medical Corps, chances were slim she’d get an assignment this close to the coast. And if she went back to her childhood home, the only ocean in sight would be a sea of soybean plants. Ugh.
“What would it be like to live here and walk on the beach whenever I please?” she asked her reflection as she dressed for her dinner date with Kieran.
The sun had coaxed even more freckles across the bridge of her nose.
She reached for her cosmetic bag, then thought better of it.
“Take me as I am or…” She fastened her new earrings—silver dangles with tiny citrine stones.
“Or don’t shake my peach tree. Is that how it goes, bud? ”
From his cushion at the foot of her bed, Snoot gave a whuff of agreement.
She dug through her suitcase for a scarf to complement her pale green cashmere sweater. “I mean, it’s not like I’ll ever see this guy again.”
The dog thumped his tail on the cushion.
“Besides, who needs a boyfriend when I’ve got the best boy in the world?” She crouched to cup his chocolate brown face in both hands and smooch his broad forehead. Immediately, he flopped over for a belly rub.
While she skritched his soft fur, her thoughts drifted back to the lighthouse keeper and how sweet he’d been with Snoot.
It wasn’t like her to accept a spontaneous date.
Usually, she carefully vetted her dates before agreeing to meet.
Come to think of it, better give someone a heads-up before meeting up with a near stranger.
She typed a quick text to Liv.
How’s it going with the Stryker Brigade?
Her friend’s answer came quickly.
Rough. Had to go to Supply for more Kleenex. Twice.
Ah, Liv, I’m sorry. I should’ve stayed to help.
Addy started to type a message about Col. Okafor’s news, then erased it. Her friend was dealing with enough stress as it was. Besides, what could Liv do about a staffing issue?
Bullshit, missy. You did your part. Now go spoil your overworked ass. Self-care, darling.
Does a date count?
A string of emojis followed: a gawking face, a grinning one, and a thumbs up. And then an eggplant.
Whoa now, I just met the guy. In case he turns out to be a serial killer, I’ll be at Gull’s Point Lighthouse with Kieran Gallagher.
She’d memorized the spelling from his uniform nametag.
If you don’t text by midnight, I’ll send the National Guard.
Midnight? The last time she’d stayed up that late was New Year’s Eve at the Officers Club.
I’ll text by ten. Love you, sis.
Liv’s answer: a kiss-blowing emoji.
Eggplant, huh? Could she justify a quick tumble with a willing stranger as self-care? Because Kieran the keeper was mighty tempting.
Snoot tugged hard on the leash, eager to return to his new friend. Or maybe it was just the delicious cooking smells drifting from the stone cottage that fueled his hurry.
When they reached the door, Snoot dropped onto the ground, his trained response to finding a scent target. Weird.
“Is this guy cooking up explosives, bud?” She gave his head a scratch and knocked on the door, which immediately opened to reveal Kieran in a canvas apron that read Kiss the Cook and a faded lobster-claw oven mitt.
Tail wagging like a windshield wiper on overdrive, Snoot sprang up and planted his feet on Kieran’s stomach.
“Sorry. Down, Snoot.” The dog obediently sat beside her and whimpered, practically vibrating with joy.
If she had a tail, she’d wag it too. Hunky was inadequate to describe their host. He’d looked pretty damn sexy in his crisp park ranger uniform, but in snug, worn jeans and a dark green Henley, sleeves pushed up to the elbows to reveal powerful, copper-dusted forearms? Yowza!
She yanked her gaze away from forearm heaven toward his face but got stuck at the vee of russet chest hair curling from the opening in his shirt.
Clearly, Liv was right. Her last sexual encounter was ages ago, and you can only squash a healthy libido for so long.
“You came!” Laugh lines crinkled the corners of his bright hazel eyes, cognac brown with glints of green and gold. His short, silver-sprinkled beard framed plump lips stretched in a welcoming smile.
She knew it was rude, but she couldn’t help gawking at his broad shoulders, well-muscled chest, and sturdy thighs. Old-fashioned woolen slippers covered his enormous feet. Cozy, cute, and delectably male. Powerful stuff!
Addy shuffled her sand-dusted sneakers on his welcome mat and held out the potted mini-ivy plant she’d picked up at the Main Street Food Co-op. “Thanks for having me.”
“How thoughtful.” He cupped her elbow and pulled her inside, inclining his head toward a bench beside the door.
“Hope you don’t mind taking off your shoes.
Sand gets everywhere, you know.” With his slippered foot, he nudged forward a wicker basket filled with cloth slippers of various sizes. “My sister sent these for guests.”
She toed off her sneakers and chose a pair, noting the tatami insole. “Japanese slippers from an Irish sister?”
He chuckled, a deep, rumbly sound that warmed her better than the flames crackling in the stone hearth. “We’re a far-flung family. Fiona lives in Kyoto. Maeve is in Switzerland, Seamus is in Toronto, and I’m here. Only Aisling stayed in Ireland.”
“Your parents must miss you very much.”
His handsome face screwed into a grimace. “They’re gone.”
Okaaay, best to leave that touchy subject alone. Seems they had that in common—prickly relationships with their families.
“May I, Mr. Snoot?” Kieran grabbed a towel and crouched to rub the sand from Snoot’s fur—a task the dog made easier by sprawling on his back. The smile Kieran flashed up at her ignited a whole squadron of fireflies in her belly.
He pushed to his feet. “Hope you don’t have a problem with dairy. There’s cream in the soup and plenty of cheese.” He rubbed his nose and cracked a boyish grin. “I went a little mad at the farmer’s market.”
“Are you kidding? I’d live on cheese if I could.” She sniffed the air. “Smells delicious.”
With his hand on the small of her back, a courtly gesture that sent tingles up her spine, he led her to a corner table set for two. She took a seat on the padded bench.
While Kieran gathered dishes and serving utensils, she checked out his quaint, cozy home.
Hardwood floors polished to a high gloss, braided rugs in front of the stone fireplace and beneath the dining table, lots of old-timey photos and prints on the white-paneled walls, and—an incongruous but charming touch—trailing ivy in seventies-style macrame plant hangers.
Old-fashioned with a hippie twist, comfy and welcoming.
Yum.
“I’ve got cider from the Salty Dog Brewery. It’s—” Kieran lifted a dark-brown growler and squinted at the label. “Spiced pear.”
“Sounds delish, thanks.”
He poured her a glass before filling his own glass with tap water. Huh. Was he in recovery?
He caught her sideways glance at his drink. “I do better without alcohol.” The corners of his full mouth quirked upward. “Despite the stereotype, not all Irishmen are lushes.”
“Of course they aren’t.” Her cheeks heated.
Kieran carried an old-fashioned soup tureen to the table, along with a basket of crusty peasant bread, a crock of butter, a green salad, and three kinds of artisanal cheese.
Addy surveyed the feast and gave a low whistle. “Wow. Were you a chef before you became a lighthouse keeper?”
He threw his head back and laughed, displaying the strong column of his throat—yet another delicious detail she’d love to explore.
Yikes, what was up with this sudden libido spike? She’d like to blame the cider, but she’d yet to taste a drop.
“My job was about as far away from chefing as you can get.” He ladled soup into her bowl, then passed a small dish of pumpkin seeds to sprinkle on top. “Though I did take my turn cooking for the crew.”
“What kind of crew?” She reached for the bread. “Let me guess—you were a firefighter?”
Kieran flinched, and his lips thinned into a tight line, though he quickly hid his reaction behind a teasing smile. “Ah, ah, ah.” He slathered his slice with butter. “You first.”
Well, poop. She’d hoped to dance around that topic. Stalling, she dipped her spoon into the soup and brought it to her lips, then moaned as rich, pumpkin-y velvet slid over her tongue.
Kieran chuckled around his own spoonful. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about your work. I’m interested in you, Addy, not your resume.”
Well, their easy rapport was nice while it lasted. She gripped her spoon tighter and braced herself for the usual awkwardness. “I’m a surgeon. In the Army.”
His eyebrows shot up. “That would not have been my first guess.”
“Oh?” She gave him a playful grin. “What would you have guessed?”
He stroked his beard, kindling her desire to do the same. “Something outdoorsy, I’d think. But working with people. You have an air of kindness about you. I see it in the way you look out for Snoot.”
At the mention of his name, the dog set his chin on her knee and gazed up adoringly. Addy patted his broad head. “Well, who could meet this fella and not fall in love?”
“Compassionate,” Kieran continued, “that’s the word I want. I’d expect a surgeon to be more…” He scrunched his lips to the side.
“Detached? Clinical?” She tore off another chunk of bread. “I am, when I need to be. When you’re wrist-deep in someone’s belly, you can’t afford to get emotional about it.”
“I’ll bet that takes a toll on someone like you.”
She sighed. “It does.”
Giving in to the urge to touch him, she patted Kieran’s thick forearm. “Maybe I should become a park ranger.”
“Comin’ for my job, are you? I’ll warn you, it involves carrying heavy dogs up the stairs.”
Oh, Liv would like this guy. He had her best friend’s knack for seeing through defenses and pretenses, right to the beating heart of the matter—not that she was pretending with Kieran.
Why should she? After this week, she’d never see him again, and that made him a safe confidante for all her messy issues.
For some strange reason, he seemed content to listen.
In fact, he seemed downright fascinated.
Maybe that was just a front designed to get her in bed.
And maybe she was perfectly fine with that.