Chapter Thirteen #2
“I thought it was weird, too, when I first heard the idea. But it’s pretty fun, actually. The sand stays inside and you never
have to worry about cats using your sandbox for a litter box.”
“Ew,” the boy said but he headed in that direction with his sister close behind.
Rosie couldn’t help noticing how gorgeous Andrew looked in a navy-blue polo shirt and khaki pants. “You came. I wasn’t sure
you would.”
He made a face. “I almost changed my mind. Meeting everyone in town at once is an intimidating prospect for an introvert like
me.”
She rolled her eyes. “You attended the Academy Awards this year, if I’m not mistaken. If you could handle all the fancy people
there, surely you’ll be fine at a little neighborhood barbecue.”
“I attended the awards show, but I didn’t enjoy it,” he assured her. “It lasted for hours and I couldn’t wait to get home and out of my tux.”
“I can’t promise this evening will be more entertaining than the Academy Awards. But let me introduce you to a few people.
I know they’ll be happy to meet you.”
“Will the kids be okay? Maybe I should stay close to them.”
Oh no. She wasn’t going to let him escape meeting their neighbors that easily. “My mom and yours are keeping an eye on things
and there are a few other moms who have volunteered to be on kid patrol. I’ve locked the gate that leads down to the beach
trail and put away my chickens. That’s the only hazard I can think of in my yard.”
With a sigh, he followed her to a group of the friendliest, most bighearted people she could think of, several people she
considered most unlikely among all of those in the crowd to make a fuss about his books or his notoriety.
She had already figured out that Andrew wasn’t completely comfortable talking about his successful book series or the movie
that had been made of them, something she couldn’t quite understand.
She introduced him, explaining the others’ connections and where they lived. She was relieved, as she hoped, when everyone
was friendly and welcoming. Polly Anthony immediately started asking him about the renovations to Stormhaven and telling him
about parties she remembered when she was young, when the place had been the most luxurious house on this part of the coast.
Satisfied that he was comfortable for now, she moved away and headed to check on the paper product supply at the food table.
She was stopped before she could reach it by Nina Patel, her dear friend and owner of Rosie’s favorite clothing boutique in town, who gave her a wide-eyed look.
“I can’t believe you were able to drag Andrew Morgan out to one of our neighborhood bashes. Most of us have hardly caught
a glimpse of him since he arrived. He’s like our own version of the Loch Ness Monster.”
He was far too gorgeous to be compared to any kind of monster, Rosie thought.
“I believe he’s still trying to settle in, but it hasn’t been easy since the house is still a construction zone. I’m glad
he made it. It must be so overwhelming to come here and meet half the town at once.”
“Wait. We’re overwhelming?” Nina asked with a wide-eyed, innocent look that made Rosie laugh, even as she felt a pang of sympathy
for Andrew.
She knew only too well what it was like to be the new kid in town, the center of all the attention.
If he was truly as introverted as he said, this must definitely be a challenge. She had a wild urge to run to his rescue and
pull him away from everyone.
“I have to say,” Nina went on, “the guy is even hotter in person than all the pictures I’ve seen of him in the tabloids with
Willow Voss.”
She looked over to find him smiling down at something Polly said, his expression somehow gentle as he looked at the frail
octogenarian. Her skin suddenly felt hypersensitive and she was oddly aware of the soft evening breeze blowing off the water.
She swallowed hard, doing her best to rein in this silly response to the man. His previous girlfriend was a movie star. They
went to the freaking Academy Awards together. Why would he possibly be interested in a frazzled grandmother who ran a construction
company in a small coastal town?
“You should ask him to come talk to the Sea Witches!” Nina exclaimed.
Rosie blinked back to her friend, trying to imagine any scenario where she could find the nerve to invite him to join their
rambunctious monthly book club.
“He’s busy trying to meet a deadline right now. I’m sure he doesn’t have time for something like that.”
“You should ask him anyway.”
“Who are we asking? And what do we want him to do?” Their other good friend Mei Lin Chen joined them. The nurse practitioner
at the women’s clinic Rosie went to looked as gorgeous as a movie star herself tonight, as usual.
“I was telling Rosie she should ask our sexy new neighbor to speak at our book club.” Nina grinned, inclining her head in
the direction of Andrew.
Rosie could feel her cheeks heat. She could only hope he was too busy talking with Polly to notice all the middle-aged women
ogling him.
“He’s great looking,” Mei Lin agreed. “But Rosie doesn’t like fantasy.”
“She should make an exception in Andrew Morgan’s case. And I’m not talking about the books he writes, if you know what I mean,”
Nina said with a grin.
Almost against her will, she looked over at Andrew. Their gazes met and he gave her a tentative smile. Rosie could feel her
face heat even more, feeling as if she had swallowed a hummingbird. She smiled back but quickly looked away again.
“I saw that!” Mei Lin murmured.
“What?” Rosie tried for an innocent tone.
“The two of you exchanging longing glances in the middle of a party.”
“You didn’t see anything. We’re friends, that’s all. I’m taking over as the project manager of the Stormhaven renovation.”
“Even better,” Nina joined in. “You’ll have to see each other all the time, at least until his house is done.”
Yes. She was fully aware of that. In fact, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.
“You should go for it,” Mei Lin pressed. “He’s really hot, Rosie.”
Sheer force of will was the only thing stopping her from stealing another look. “No thanks. I have enough on my plate right
now. I’ve got Emma and Olive and my mom and two businesses. Who has time for romance?”
“You should,” Nina said firmly.
“Gary’s been gone for ten years,” Mei Lin said. “Don’t you think it’s time to move on?”
“I have moved on. I’ve dated.”
“Nobody seriously, except for that restaurant owner,” Mei said, her features frustrated. “How many times have we all tried
to set you up with somebody great? You date them one or two times and then say there was no spark.”
“I can’t help that.”
“Have you ever thought that maybe the reason you haven’t generated any sparks with anybody is because you do everything you
can to blow out any fires before they can get started?”
Rosie instinctively wanted to argue, but she knew they were right. She had dated several perfectly nice guys but always made
excuses for why they weren’t right for each other.
And yes. She was tired of being alone. That didn’t mean she was self-destructive enough to want to jump headfirst into a relationship
destined for failure.
“Seriously. When am I going to find time to date? Even if Andrew Morgan and I were not completely wrong for each other, this
isn’t the time for me to start something with anyone.”
“When is the right time?” Nina asked. “You can make excuses for the rest of your life.”
“And what’s wrong with that? I don’t need a man to be happy. My life is full and rich and beautiful, just as it is.”
If she had nights when she ached to have someone’s arms around her, early mornings when she would love to have someone to
walk on the beach with, evenings when she yearned for conversation and laughter and fun, that was her business.
“It is,” Nina agreed. “That doesn’t mean you should automatically shut the door on anything without seeing where it might
lead.”
“You could merely have a wild affair with him,” Mei Lin said.
“Okay, first of all, I don’t plan to have a wild affair with anyone. You both know that’s not in my nature. Second of all,
what would Andrew Morgan see in someone like me? He dates tight, hot, young actresses. I haven’t been tight, hot or young
in a long time.”
“You’re forty-five years young, honey,” Mei Lin said. “Perimenopausal doesn’t mean dead. Take it from me. I’m a professional.”
She was grateful when another friend came over to talk to them, interrupting the conversation she did not want to have, about
a man she could not stop thinking about.