Chapter 23
“How do I look?” Harlow tugged at her sleeve and tossed her long blond locks over her shoulder. “Do you think my blouse is too shimmery?”
“By shimmery do you mean fancy?” Aunt Birdie asked.
“Yeah. I guess the word I’m looking for is dressy.”
“Where is Caleb taking you?”
“He mentioned Wendovers on the Water.”
“Where Robert and Cheyenne went the other night?” Her aunt arched her eyebrows.
“Robert should be long gone.”
“And if he’s not?”
“If we run into him, I’ll be cordial,” Harlow said. “Mackinac Island is my home, not Robert’s, so if he’s hanging around, he’s in my territory.”
“Good point.” Birdie patted her shoulder. “What if the paparazzi follows you?”
Harlow struggled to keep a straight face. “Then I’ll remind Caleb we can’t make out in public.”
“Harlow Wynn,” her aunt gasped. “I thought you swore off men.”
She giggled. “I’m not making out with Caleb. It was a joke.”
Her aunt followed her into the living room. “Caleb is solid. I would like to see you settle down with a man of his caliber someday.”
“I wouldn’t be opposed to staying single and living happily ever after at Lighthouse Lane.”
“Never marrying again?”
“Well…maybe not for a long time.”
Tink. Harlow glanced at her phone. “He’s out front.”
“Have a good time.” Birdie motioned toward David who was sitting in his recliner. “Your father and I don’t plan on waiting up for you.”
“It’s not a date.”
“I trust Caleb with Harlow. He’ll keep her safe, and if he takes her home?” David Wynn gave a thumbs up. “I won’t go get the shotgun.”
“Stop.” Harlow made a timeout with her hands. “At the risk of sounding like a broken record, this is not a date. We’re merely two friends enjoying each other’s company.”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Her father waved dismissively. “Caleb gets the green light, but don’t let a nosy, nasty reporter follow you home.”
Harlow grabbed her keys, slipped her jacket on and hurried out of the cottage. Cutting down a side path, she reached the main gate less than a minute later.
Caleb stood in front of his work truck, his hands in his jacket pockets, looking slightly nervous, or at least that was the impression Harlow got.
“Hey.” He stepped onto the curb and opened the gate. “You didn’t stand me up.”
“Did you think I would?”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t sure. You didn’t seem like you were all that excited about having dinner with me.”
“I have a lot on my mind. Trust me, it has nothing to do with you.” Harlow waited for him to open the passenger-side door. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Walking around front, Caleb climbed behind the wheel and shifted into drive. “So, we never officially decided on where to eat, although I believe we were leaning toward Wendovers.”
“Dinner is on me,” Harlow reminded him. “I owe you for helping with the fire investigation.”
“You don’t owe me dinner.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I can’t let you buy my meal,” Caleb protested.
“Why not?”
“Because that’s not how dates work. The gentleman pays for the meal,” he patiently explained.
Harlow crossed her arms, mustering up her best indignant pose. “Caleb Jackson, this is not a date. It’s a thank-you dinner.”
“Call it what you want. You’re in my truck, all dolled up and looking hot if I might add. We’re having dinner together. Sounds like a date to me.”
“I never would have agreed to go on a date.”
“Why not?”
“Because the ink is barely dry on my divorce papers.”
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your ex has already moved on.”
“So you heard Robert and Cheyenne were hanging out?” Harlow asked.
“Yeah. One of my buddies was in the bar at the time and sent me a picture,” Caleb said.
“I’m sorry if he wrecked your relationship with her.”
“I believe I may have mentioned this before, but we weren’t in a relationship. We spent some time together. Cheyenne isn’t my type.”
The words slipped out of Harlow’s mouth before she could stop them. “Who is your type?”
“You.”
“I didn’t mean to say that.”
“I did. I meant to say you. I’m glad you asked, because now we’ve cleared the air.”
“I’m not interested in a relationship,” Harlow insisted.
“The good news is I’m in no hurry.” Caleb changed the subject. “I heard your backup offer for Lighthouse Lane was accepted.”
She whistled loudly. “News travels fast.”
“It’s a small island with only a few hundred full-timers. You’re a mega movie star. Of course, news is going to spread like wildfire.”
“Which means everyone will know we’re having dinner together,” she pointed out.
“And those at Wendovers on the Water will find out the fastest. There is a chance, albeit slim, we’ll run into your ex and Cheyenne.”
“I hope not.”
“We can go somewhere else. They have the best seafood on the island, although they’re a little on the pricey side.”
“Price doesn’t matter,” Harlow said. “A quality meal is worth every penny, not to mention calorie.”
Caleb coasted to the stop sign, waiting for a pair of pedestrians to cross the street. “You’re not buying dinner.”
“I am.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Reaching the main street, Caleb dodged several snowmobiles and a couple of winter bikes before finding an empty parking spot.
She grabbed the door handle, and Caleb stopped her. “At least let me escort you.”
He hopped out and ran around to the other side. Opening the door, he reached out to steady her as she stepped onto the slippery sidewalk. “Thank you.”
“I can’t have you slipping and falling on my watch.” Caleb leaned in. “Have I mentioned that not only do you look beautiful but you smell nice?”
Harlow placed her hands on her hips. “Caleb Jackson…are you flirting with me?”
“I’m trying my best. For the record, you’re not making it easy.” Taking her arm, he escorted her along the sidewalk and into the lobby. The hostess gave them a passing glance and then did a double take. She hurried toward them. “Good evening.”
“Hello.” Caleb greeted her. “We didn’t make a reservation but were hoping you had a quiet table for two.”
“Let me see what’s available.” She returned to the podium and picked up her marker. “We have a table in the back overlooking the water.”
“Perfect.” Keeping a light hand on Harlow’s arm, the couple followed the woman down the center aisle.
Harlow noticed several heads turn and whispered voices echoing as they strolled past. She kept her eyes straight ahead, not looking to the right or left.
“Our special this evening is filet mignon and stuffed lobster with potatoes au gratin and petite peas.”
Caleb pulled out Harlow’s chair and waited for her to be seated before taking the one next to her.
“You’re sitting close to me,” she whispered under her breath after the hostess left.
“It makes it easier for us to talk.”
“It makes us look like we’re a couple.”
“I don’t have a problem with others believing this is the case.” Caleb’s eyes twinkled mischievously as he reached for his glass of water and took a sip. “You’re the prettiest woman in here. Every man should be jealous.”
“You could end up on the front pages of the national gossip magazines by morning.”
“Really?” Caleb turned his head from side to side. “Which side is my best? I want to make sure I turn so they get my best side.”
“This isn’t funny,” she hissed. “I’m not kidding.”
“And I couldn’t care less. Look, we’re friends. I have a right to have dinner with a friend.” He made googly eyes at Harlow. “It’s not like we’re making out at the table.”
Harlow could feel her face turn fire-engine red. “Fine. You think it’s funny now, but wait until your face is plastered all over the front page of a rag magazine or even a legit one.”
“I’ll take my chances.” He sobered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound flippant. I gotta admit, it must be infuriating to have lies published about you.”
“You have no idea,” she muttered.
“All I want is a nice dinner with you, to catch up.”
“Ditto.” Harlow sucked in a breath and began talking about something else. Soon, they were reminiscing about old times, and it was like being transported to her younger years when she didn’t have deadlines and headlines to deal with.
“So what’s a day like in the life of the famous Harlow Wynn?” he teased.
“It’s not that glamorous.” She gave him a brief rundown. Instead of appearing bored out of his mind, he seemed interested…interested in what her life was like.
“I’ve been meaning to ask—where’s your bodyguard, Vic?”
“He got an offer for a sweet gig. I told him to go for it seeing how I don’t need him right now.” Harlow rattled off the name of a well-known rock band who were touring and looking to beef up their security.
Caleb let out a low whistle. “I bet he has some stories to tell.”
“I’m sure he does. Vic and I have had our share of drama.”
“Both good and bad.”
Harlow thought about his comment. “It’s like a teeter totter…there are good days, bad days and everything in between.”
“Never a dull moment,” he summarized.
“Nope. Not ever.”
Before she knew it, the meal ended. They split a dessert, a decadent chocolate bomb cake, before boxing up their leftovers and heading out.
Thankfully, there was no sign of Robert or Cheyenne. If a reporter happened to be spying on them, the only thing they would have seen were two people joking, laughing and enjoying a meal together.
Would she find a photo of her and Caleb splashed across the newspapers in the next couple of days? It was possible…entirely possible, but he didn’t seem concerned about it.
Back inside his truck, it was a short drive to Wynn Harbor Inn.
She started to climb out, and Caleb stopped her. “I’m walking you to the door.”
Harlow protested. “I’ll be fine.”
“I insist. You never know if a pesky reporter is lurking in the bushes, waiting to pounce.”
“If he’s waiting, he’s also freezing to death.” Harlow did a shiver-shake. The temperature had tumbled, and the evening air was downright frosty. She blew warm air, creating a mist with her breath. “Frostbite would set in pretty darn quick.”
Taking her arm again, Caleb escorted her all the way to her father’s front porch. Through the window, she glimpsed the soft glow of the living room lamp along with the flickering from the television.
“Dad is still up.”
“He probably wants to make sure you made it home safely.”
An awkward silence ensued.
Caleb cleared his throat. “Thank you for spending your evening with me.”
“And thank you for dinner. Seriously, it was supposed to be my treat.”
“I wanted to take you out,” he replied, his voice low and husky. “Maybe we can do it again sometime soon.”
Their eyes met, and a sudden warmth spread through Harlow. “I would like that.”
“Me too.” Caleb turned to go and suddenly swung back. He reached for her hand and placed a light kiss on top. “This was the best night I’ve had in a long time.”
“Ditto.” Harlow was certain he could hear her heart pounding loudly in her chest. “Like old times.”
“Like old times.” Caleb waved goodbye and strolled back down the sidewalk, whistling a catchy tune on his way out. He turned once.
Harlow gave him a quick wave and slipped inside. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it. All she could think about was how the evening had passed in the blink of an eye…and she felt all of eighteen years old again.