Chapter 5
FIVE
Once they’d all dried off and thrown on some fresh clothes, they settled at the dinner table inside.
Emily had finally calmed down enough after her call from Will to be present in the moment, and she decided she’d do her very best to keep him from stealing any more of her happiness.
She scooted up to the table, immersing herself in the atmosphere of gorgeous food and good friends in paradise.
“This looks incredible,” she said to Patrick as he placed the starter of heirloom tomato and burrata salad in front of her.
The corners of his mouth turned up subtly. “Thank you.”
His voice was careful, soft, deep. She couldn’t imagine him in the armed forces, given how reserved and nonthreatening he was. Instead of being full of command, it seemed as if he’d dart away at the first opportunity. Perhaps his quiet nature was why he was no longer in the navy?
The sun went behind a cloud, darkening the room. He noticed, and immediately pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit the candles in the center of the table. An orange glow illuminated their places, making it feel cozy and intimate.
“He’s not so bad,” Blair whispered in Emily’s ear when Patrick had gone back into the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of wine. “He was quick with lighting the tapers. I need to teach Rocko that trick.”
Emily chuckled.
Sienna leaned across the table. “We’ll definitely have to get that magazine. I’m so curious. Or I could just try to start a conversation.”
“I wouldn’t,” Emily replied. “He literally told me he actually likes silence.”
Sienna made a face. “Weird.”
“For you,” Emily said with a laugh.
“Are you sticking up for him?” Sienna teased, thoughts behind those brown eyes of hers. “He is attractive. Could be a good rebound…”
Emily shot her a look.
“Seriously,” Sienna insisted.
Emily’s expression tightened, and she glanced at the doorway to the kitchen. “I am in no place to entertain any thoughts apart from this girls’ week. I have enough to juggle, thank you very much.”
They hushed when Patrick came back with the bottle of wine and the final plate of salad.
He set the plate in front of Sienna and then popped the cork out of the sauvignon blanc.
As he reached around the water goblet to fill Emily’s glass, a clap of thunder exploded outside.
Patrick jumped, the wine spilling onto her plate and into her lap.
Instinctively, she pushed back and sprung to her feet, the liquid dripping a little on the hardwood floor.
Patrick flinched. He gathered himself quickly, setting down the bottle and snatching a cloth napkin. “I’m so sorry.” He reached out to blot her, then obviously thought better of it and handed her the napkin.
“It’s okay.” Her shorts were soaking.
“I’ll get you a new salad.” His words came out in almost a growl. Then he disappeared into the kitchen.
Another roll of thunder rippled above them, as dishes clanged behind the closed doors.
Sienna leaned across the table and made a face, glancing at the kitchen. “What was that?”
“I guess the thunder startled him,” Emily replied, dabbing at her wine-soaked shorts, unsuccessfully trying to remove the ice-cold wetness. “I’ll be right back.”
She ran upstairs, slipped off her wet shorts, threw them over the edge of the tub, and put on a different pair. When she returned, the floor and table were clean, and she had a full glass of wine and a fresh salad, along with a steaming plate of snapper.
As if the heavens opened up, a swooshing sound outside drew her attention to the French doors. Only a slip of blue Gulf was visible through the haze of pouring rain.
Emily sat down, stabbed a forkful of the salad, and took a bite, focusing on the food to avoid thinking about the rain and the fact that she and her friends had yet to really get to talk.
The crisp, fresh flavors exploded in her mouth.
The sweet, juicy tomatoes complemented the creamy, rich, buttery burrata cheese.
She swallowed. “This is the best salad I’ve had in a while. Wow.”
“I might agree with you on that,” Blair said, taking a bite.
Sienna sipped her water.
“You don’t like the fish?” Emily asked quietly.
Sienna’s phone pinged on the table beside her.
She checked the message and then clicked it off.
“The smell of the oil is turning my stomach. And I’m not sure I can have it because it might contain mercury.
” Sienna made a face. “I’m worried because the only foods that smell good to me right now are pizza and burgers.
In our family, this baby had better like the finer things in life or he or she will be in trouble. ”
Blair laughed. “I figured your baby would come out of the womb yearning for white truffles and sashimi.”
“It had better!” Sienna pushed a few leaves around her plate.
“When do you think you’ll tell Tyson?” Blair asked.
“Maybe when he gets here this weekend. But when I do, I’m going to have to promise him that, one, I won’t make him get an SUV, and two, I won’t ask him to sell the condo.” For the first time since Emily had known Sienna, she saw a tiny spark of fear in her eyes.
Patrick came in, his muscular arm lined with the sides for the main course. He also set butter and a few condiments in front of them.
Another clap of thunder rang out, but his hands were steady this time.
“There’s a ton of food left, so if you want seconds of anything, just let me know,” he said. “Once everyone’s full, I’ll box up the leftovers and put them in the fridge.”
“How many clients do you have in the area?” Sienna asked him.
His gaze flickered over to her. “A lot.”
Sienna was bent on getting him to talk, but if anyone was going to facilitate a conversation with him, Emily would be the most diplomatic of the three. She could gauge his reactions and keep things light.
“Why don’t you have some dinner too?”
Sienna and Blair swapped interested looks, but Emily ignored them.
His brows pulled together. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“We don’t mind,” Blair offered. “If there’s plenty, have some. It’s the least we can do, considering you had to cook for three strangers tonight.”
“Thank you again for the offer, but I’ll pass.”
Blair’s chin lifted. “Why? Is there something in the food?” She looked at Emily as if to say, I told you he was a murderer.
Sienna snorted and covered her mouth with her napkin, pretending to cough.
Patrick wasn’t in on the joke, and he stared at them suspiciously.
“Please,” Sienna said after recovering. “We don’t bite.”
“And we won’t ask you to talk,” Emily said. But as soon as the suggestion left her lips, she reconsidered, the offer sounding more awkward than it had in her head.
But instead of a perplexed response, he seemed surprised and self-conscious. “I don’t make a habit of dining with my clients.”
“Right,” Emily said, “but you’re going to be hanging out with us all week.
And if your clients are the kind of people who own houses like this, we aren’t your typical clients.
I’m an elementary-school teacher. I usually eat a bagged salad out of Tupperware, or I have lunch with my kids.
School pizza is an acquired taste, for sure. ”
The corners of his mouth rose slightly.
“And Sienna over there is a real estate agent. She got to stay here as a gift from the owner. Blair works in social media.”
“We really don’t mind if you want to take a load off,” Blair said. “Eat. The longer you stay, the less chance you have of loading your truck in that.” She pointed to the sheets of rain coming down outside.
Emily got up. “I’ll make you a plate.”
“Please—”
He tried to stop her, but she went into the kitchen anyway.
He followed. “Why are you and your friends so persistent?”
She picked up a plate and dished a pile of sweet corn onto it.
“It’s uncomfortable to have a stranger cooking our meals.
We don’t usually have people waiting on us.
I’d like to know you better so the atmosphere is less formal.
And Blair thinks you could be a murderer,” she added, playfully baiting him.
He flinched instead of laughing.
Her skin flushed. “You’re not a murderer, are you?”
He shook his head subtly, but her joke had landed flat.
She scrutinized him. His eyes didn’t look like a criminal’s eyes. Instead, she could almost see fear in them, which made no sense, given how strong and masculine he was.
She added a piece of snapper to the plate and held it out. “Is this enough?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
She handed him his dinner and led him back to the table.
“Where’s Blair?” she asked, taking her seat.
“She got a call from Rocko. Sorry, I have to dip for a second too. I’ve got a family who’s found the perfect listing, but there’s already a contingency offer on it, so we’ll need to move fast. They’ve texted me twice now.
I should send them the MLS information.” Sienna pushed away from the table. “Give me ten minutes.”
Emily settled in opposite Patrick and cut a piece of her snapper. They worked on their plates until the silence ate at her.
“So have you always lived in Florida?” she asked.
“No, I’m originally from North Carolina. Raleigh.”
She smiled. “I grew up in Virginia. Not too far away.”
He stabbed a piece of fish with his fork.
“What brought you to this gorgeous area?” she asked.
“I wanted to escape to paradise. This is as close as I could find.”
“It’s definitely a different way of life, isn’t it? So calm and relaxing. Although, I’ll bet it’s not the same for you, since you have to work and live your regular life.”
He shrugged. “Nothing’s really paradise. But I have some family nearby, so that helps.”
His comment about paradise resonated with Emily more than he knew. “How long have you been here?”
“Five years in this location, but I’ve been in Florida for over a decade. I was in Jacksonville before this.”
Emily picked up her wine. “The Naval Air Station’s in Jacksonville, right? Is that why you were there?”
He nodded.
While he was short with his answers, there was something about him that made her feel as if there was more to that hardened exterior, and if she could just crack it, she’d see a different side of him.
She hadn’t determined exactly why she wanted to see any side of him particularly, but the curiosity was enough to drive her.
“Sorry,” Blair said, coming back to sit at the table.
Patrick stood up. “I forgot dinner rolls. Want anything?”
“No, thanks. I’m okay,” Emily said.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Blair said, scooting her chair into place.
After he left, Emily dug into her snapper once more. “Everything good with Rocko?”
“Yeah, he wanted to make sure we got here okay.” She took a drink of wine. “He’s excited to come on Friday night. He couldn’t get anyone else’s schedules to line up for fishing anyway. Now, they’ll all be jealous.” She stabbed the salad with her fork. “He ran into Will and Lanie at the gym.”
Emily’s hands stilled.
Lanie.
“I didn’t know her name until now.” When she’d been able to pry out of Will that he’d called things off because he’d met someone at the gym, she’d stopped him there, not caring to hear any more. She swallowed the grief that wanted to overflow. “That’s…awkward.”
“I’m so sorry, Em. What a complete jerk he is.”
“I still can’t believe he wrecked our future marriage over this.”
“It’s due to his own problems. He’s obviously dealing with something,” Blair said.
Patrick returned with a plate containing four rolls and sat down. He brought a breath of fresh air with him. Even though he wasn’t the most talkative person on the planet, the fact that he didn’t know anything about Emily or her current situation was nice. A clean slate.
“You okay?” he asked her.
“Yes, why?” She blinked a little too much, worried her emotions had seeped through to the outside.
“I overheard. It’s none of my business. Sorry.”
Blair leaned on the table, addressing Patrick. “Will is Emily’s ex-fiancé and my husband’s good friend.”
“Ah.” He eyed Emily but then turned his attention back to his plate.
“Apparently, he’s a real idiot. Who knew?” Blair raised her hands in the air. “But the real downer is that he’s ruined our monthly dinner nights.”
“All done!” Sienna swished across the room and slid into her chair next to Patrick. “Normally, I wouldn’t jump so quickly, but this is a big client.” She looked back and forth between Blair and Emily. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing you don’t already know,” Emily said, ready to change the subject. “Except that Patrick has been in Florida for over a decade. He used to live in Jacksonville.”
“Oh wow.” Sienna’s eyebrows bobbed at Emily.
The table fell into an awkward silence, the one-sided conversation between the women and Patrick dwindling.
“Did you say for dessert you had key lime tarts?” Sienna asked. “I’d love to try one.”
Patrick immediately pushed away from the table, as if he couldn’t wait to end the exchange. He served them dessert, and then he cleaned, packed up, and loaded his vehicle without finishing his plate. By then, the rain had stopped, leaving a steamy residue in its wake.
“Thank you for dinner,” Emily said from the grand front door.
“You’re welcome.” He hoisted one of the coolers into the back of his Ford F-150 SuperCrew.
She slipped her hands into her pockets, not sure what to say to smooth things over.
Why had he even mentioned that he’d heard her and Blair’s conversation?
He could’ve easily played dumb. But instead he’d asked how she was.
Mr. I-Prefer-Silence. His curiosity about the situation had her brain in a muddle.
He got in his truck, started the engine, and put down the window. “I’ll be back tomorrow at six.”
“Sounds good.”
Without another look, he drove away, down the long winding path to the main road.
Patrick had been an unexpected addition to their little getaway, and she wondered how, exactly, he would fit into The Broken Hearts Beach Club. Only time would tell.