No Breaking My Heart (19 page)

Martha looked at her fondly, if not a little sadly. “You deserve happiness, Alyn. Wherever and however you find it.”

Halo skimmed his hand down Alyn's arm, raising goose bumps. He took her hand, held it loosely. Surprised her with, “I've already reserved your shop.”

“You have? When?” The news was heart-stopping.

“On my drive from the stadium to the inn,” he said. “I called a realtor friend. I didn't want the space rented out from under you. You're set for a year. Then we renegotiate.”

We
. Halo was all action, Alyn realized. When he wanted something, he went after it. Got it. She was grateful in this instance. Even if he had selective memory. Recalling only what suited him. She'd only agreed to be his girlfriend for ten months. He'd made her his fiancée and just added two more months to their deal. Apprehension prickled the back of her neck. He was getting ahead of himself. And way ahead of her.

Martha was expectant. “Which location?” she asked. “We looked at several.”

“Downtown,” said Alyn. “The empty store on the second floor of the historical landmark building.”

Martha remembered. “It was quite expensive.”

“Halo will support me until I turn a profit,” Alyn said. “Then I'll pay him back.”

“Be sure, Alyn,” her mother requested. “I don't want you—”

“Disappointed?” Halo filled in. “Dumped?” He was blunt. “I won't hurt her, Martha. No breaking her heart. You have my word.”

Danny gazed up at Halo, his eyes filled with hero-worship and trust. “I believe you, bro.”

Bro?
Halo's influence continued to rub off on Danny. Alyn trusted Halo, perhaps more than she should. He was kind to her family, including Quigley. “It's workable,” Alyn told her mom. “Our word is binding. We've sealed the deal.”

Martha gave in. “While I don't wholeheartedly approve, you're a big girl, Alyn, and can make your own decisions. I'm on your side, whatever you do. If Halo provides you with a means to an end, and you're his arm candy for a few months, so be it.”

Arm candy?
Where had her mom gotten such an expression? That's when she noticed a copy of
Lady's Life
on the coffee table. The glossy magazine featured “Statuette of a Trophy Wife” and “Arm Candy: Female Bling.” Articles recently read by her mom, and written from a superficial perspective. A beautiful woman on a man's arm was all for show. Her value: no more than a pair of cuff links.

Cuff links didn't come close to capturing a man's heart. Alyn wondered if any one woman could keep her finger on Halo's pulse. His heart beat for so many.

In her case, she would stand by him, discouraging fan-girls and groupies, so he could concentrate on the upcoming season. She was average looking. Few women would see her as a threat. She'd go with it, despite her misgivings.

“When do you and my daughter plan to go public?” Martha asked Halo.

“The announcement will come when friends, fans, and the media put us together. Not before. Let them figure it out,” said Halo.

Martha breathed easier. “So as of right now, no one knows you're a couple?”

“Only me.” Eleanor Norris reappeared, wearing a Rogues baseball cap, a peach seersucker jacket and matching slacks, and an I-knew-it smile. “I have no plans to tell anyone,” she assured them.

Eleanor settled on a wicker armchair with a bright orange cushion. Sunlight from the window cast soft highlights in her gray hair. Her expression relaxed. She looked more eighty than ninety. She tapped the end of her cane on the hardwood floor. “I'll sit right here while you get ready for our outing.”

“Where are you headed?” asked Halo.

“Beach and boardwalk,” Alyn told him. “You're invited to join us.”

He gave her a look that said,
You're my woman, I don't need an invitation
. It made her breath catch. “What about Quiggie Sparks?” he asked.

Alyn appreciated his concern for the pug. “I'm going to take him for a walk, then he'll come with us.”

Halo frowned. “No dogs on the boardwalk, babe. Even one in a handicap cart.”

“He won't be walking.”

Never in his life had Halo imagined he'd be walking the Barefoot William boardwalk carrying a twenty pound pug in a front carrier backpack. Made of a water-resistant nylon fabric, the pooch pouch was soft and durable, with mesh sides for well-ventilated rides.

Halo shook his head when he caught his reflection in a store window. Dog days of spring. People stared and smiled. Stopped him, wanting to give Quigs some love. The pug responded with soft barks and doggie kisses. Halo received a few pats on the arm, too.

As they proceeded, Halo wanted nothing more than to casually hold Alyn's hand. To ease her close. To feel her sweet woman's body brush his. Instead, he cupped her dog's butt, supporting Quigley against his chest. The pug was having leg spasms. His back legs shot out unexpectedly. He'd recently kicked a lady in the chest. She'd stood too close while scratching his ears.

A muscle tremor was a tremor. Alyn's breath caught with each contraction. She would then lean over Quigley, praise him, and give a hug. The top of her head tickled Halo's chin. She wore her hair in a long braid. The breeze had tugged a few strands free. They flirted with his jaw, his cheek. Shiny and apple-scented.

Alyn Jayne was sexy without meaning to be sexy, Halo noted. She had no idea how hot she looked in her turquoise sundress with a narrow, gold necklace strap. He knew, and appreciated her. Nearly every man they passed gave Alyn the eye. Or sent her a smile. He wasn't crazy about the attention given his fiancée. No one knew she belonged to him. Not yet, anyway. In the men's minds she was a free agent. That would soon change.

Danny bounced along at Halo's side. Pointing out every store and sight on the boardwalk. Wanting to go here and there, and uncertain what to do first. The afternoon was all about the boy. Once something caught his full attention, they would stop. Take part. Until then, they kept pace with the other tourists. Browsed the storefronts.

Martha and Eleanor chatted up a storm. They had a lot in common, despite their age difference. Both were born in Richmond. Astonishingly, they'd grown up mere miles apart. Each had two children of their own. Eleanor beamed over six grandchildren and three great-grands. The ladies were both widowed. Eleanor's husband, Herman, had been a florist. Martha's husband, a landscaper. The women made plans to get together when they returned home.

Even during the afternoon, the party atmosphere on the boardwalk was endless and unbroken. It was the
season
, the snowbirds were in town. There was an eclectic blend of singles and families; grandparents and toddlers. Barefoot William had character. A life of its own. The air stirred with perpetual motion. The daytime was as exciting and explosive as the neon and torchlights of night.

Danny soon spun around, punched the air. “The carousel,” he shouted as they neared the hand-carved purple-and-white horses with the amber eyes and gold saddles. “Ride with me, Halo,” he pleaded. “Grab the brass ring.”

“I'll take Quigley,” Alyn said. “It's time for him to change positions anyway. There are benches shaded by beach umbrellas at the entrance to the pier. I'll sit, and let him stretch out.”

“I don't mind watching him, honey,” her mother offered. She fanned her face. “I'm parched. There's a metal cart selling lemon ice next to the ticket booth.” She glanced at Eleanor, and the older woman nodded. “Two, please.”

Halo had his wallet out, and five dollars extracted before Martha could unzip her fanny pack. He handed the money to Danny; nodded toward the vendor. Danny made the purchases, returning with the right amount of change and no spilling. Not one little drop. He was proud of himself. He'd remembered spoons and napkins.

“Can I go talk to the fishermen?” Danny asked. A group stood farther down the pier, casting their lines.

“Don't get too close to the railings,” Martha warned.

The boy agreed and was gone, his feet flying. Halo kept an eye on Danny as he shot past Hook It, Cook It. The two shops were some of the oldest on the pier—Hook It sold bait and tackle, and Cook It stood next door, a small chef's kitchen where fishermen could have their daily catch cleaned and filleted for a small fee, then baked or fried for lunch or dinner. A salad, hush puppies, and fries came on the side. The tourists found it a novelty to eat their meals fresh from the Gulf.

Danny had listened to his mother, stopping and standing off to the side, out of the way. He watched, fascinated, as the fishermen's lines stretched with each hit, and they reeled in their catch.

Halo shifted his stance, casting his weight on his left hip. He found it difficult to stand still while Alyn removed the backpack. Her hands slid beneath the safety harness attachment, working upward along his ribcage as she unhooked the carrier clasps and loosened the drawstring. One of her fingernails flicked his nipple. The flick went south, straight to his groin. He stirred, talked himself down, while she lifted the padded straps over his head, freeing him. She then scooped the pug to her own chest. Quigs gave her so many kisses Halo lost count.

He watched her settle Quigley on his belly, cushioned by the flexible carrier. The pug wiggled his shoulders, stretched out his front legs. Alyn adjusted his back legs for maximum comfort. She stood, sighed, preoccupied. Unguarded, she leaned against Halo. She was a natural fit at his side. Curving his arm about her waist, he settled the flat of his hand on her hip.

The sun was in his eyes when Shaye Cates-Saunders approached. He squinted, took her in. A woman with curly blond hair, strong opinions, she was the driving force behind Barefoot William Enterprises. Warm and welcoming, she immediately went down on her blue-jeaned knees beside Quiggie. She was a hands-on animal lover.

“I heard there was a dog on the boardwalk, and I came to see for myself,” she told them.

The Cateses were a grapevine of news, Halo knew. What one person saw or heard was known to them all in a matter of seconds. “We're aware of the no-dog regulation,” he said to Shaye. “His paws haven't touched the boardwalk or pier.”

Shaye grinned at him. “I heard you were backpacking him.”

“So we're cool? No fine?” he asked. A sign at the onset of the pier socked dog owners with one hundred dollars out of pocket for breaking the rule. He didn't want Alyn to shoulder the expense. He'd write the check if a citation was issued.

Shaye looked from him to Alyn, and shook her head. “The pug is diapered. No accidents. We're good.” She pushed up, then, added, “I was tracking you for a reason. To bring you this decal, so all's legit.” She reached into the side pocket of her jeans, removed a miniature blue-and-white handicapped parking sticker. “Hook it on Quigley's wheelchair,” she suggested. “I have no problem with him on the boardwalk. I hope he's back on all four paws soon.”

Alyn exhaled, and sank farther into him. Relief softened her features. She hated to leave Quigs at the inn for any length of time. The pug could now go wherever they went.

“Thanks, Shaye,” he said.

Shaye eyed him then, closely. “I was at Media Day. Am I to believe you're engaged? For real?”

He gave her a short nod. “For real.”

Her gaze shifted to Alyn. “To anyone I might know? To someone with a pug?”

“She guessed!” Danny returned, his mouth full from his visit with the fisherman. He'd apparently stopped at Cook It, and received a hush puppy. Eaten in one bite, or so it appeared. His cheeks bulged like a chipmunk's.

“No guessing,” Shaye returned. “It's obvious, to me, anyway. Let things evolve. I wish you well.”

“Thanks.” Halo had always liked Shaye. She was one savvy woman.

Beside him, Danny swallowed hard, burst out with, “Let's ride the merry-go-round.” He took Alyn's hand. “I want a horse next to Halo. He's got long arms. He can grab the brass ring.”

“Let's do it,” said Halo. “I'll buy the tickets.”

“No need,” Shaye said. She produced an all-day, all-event pass from her back pocket. Handed it to Halo. “On me. Enjoy.”

She was being inordinately nice to him because he'd donated to her Island Walk Project. He lowered his voice, said, “You don't have to do this, you know.”

Shaye whispered back, “Neither did you, but you did. I'm going to name a nature trail after you. Halo Run.”

He rather liked that. “Sounds all sunshine and serious exercise.”

“And scenic. The trail will cut through the middle of the island, showcasing natural vegetation and foliage.” She nudged him on his way. “You'd better go now. Your fiancée and her brother are waiting. Danny's close to diving beneath the safety chains. Go catch the ring.”

Halo produced the pass to ride the carousel. Twice. It took him two tries to snag the brass ring. The ring scored them ten free tickets. To return on a later date.

They debated what to do next. Halo was too big for the rollercoaster and weighed too much for the Wave Swingers. Still, Danny pleaded to go. He was eight, which was the minimum age for riders. He dragged Alyn with him. His sister was reluctant.

The chairs were suspended from the rotating top of a red carousel; they tilted for additional variation of motion. Riders hung on tight as the chairs lifted and began to turn. The spinning accelerated.

Halo heard Danny's whoop and Alyn's shriek. The boy waved at him with every pass. His sister's face was as pale as a cloud when the ride slowed, stopped. Halo was at her side when she slid off the chair, and into his arms. He liked holding her. Danny wanted to go again, but Alyn convinced him there was a lot to see and do. The swing ride would be there tomorrow.