Sultry Sunset (3 page)

“Then what’s with the whole ‘she’s black’ comment?”

“All I’m saying is that the town council is made up of elderly uptight white people, so I wouldn’t have thought that a man who wasn’t would have a shot.”

I shook my head at him.

“What?”

“Just because you’re from San Francisco does not give you the right to look down on us.”

He snorted. “Oh yeah, right, like this town should be on a poster for cultural diversity.”

I opened my mouth to argue.

“And just because you have one of everything here does not make this a United Colors of Benetton ad.”

I gave up. “You’re hopeless.”

He was chuckling when Ivy joined us, looking the best she had all morning.

“So are you hungry now? Because by now Benny and I are usually eating.”

“Yes, please,” she said, beaming at me.

“This is my assistant manager, Mike,” I said, making the introductions.

It was funny to watch her turn and notice him and nearly swallow her tongue. Clearly, she was smitten. Not that I didn’t get it, the man was definitely worthy of drool.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he said, standing and holding out his hand to her.

She took it quickly, her gaze steady on him at first and then taking the tour, missing nothing from his wide shoulders to his muscular athletic build, to his warm copper
-
colored eyes. She whispered something under her breath as she released his hand, and we both watched him walk away.

“Hey.”

She turned slowly from looking after him, finally dragging her gaze back to me.

“Did you say yummy?”

Her gasp made me laugh, and she desperately tried to convince me that I was hearing things. It was already the best morning I’d had in a long time.

I BOUGHT
Ivy one of our many recyclable shopping bags—there were no plastic ones anywhere in my store and every container was made of biodegradable material. We had a huge variety of them and we found one she loved. More importantly, no one had any idea what the bag held.

We had breakfast burritos and freshly squeezed orange juice, and then I walked her back to Cuppa Joe, where she had an iced peppermint mocha and I had a cappuccino. When I took her into Wick and Wand, she was thrilled to meet the owner, Sophia D’Amato, who was putting out a Help Needed sign.

“Oh honey,” Sophia sighed, taking hold of Ivy’s hand. “I’m so sorry. I lost my mom when I was about your age too.”

I never, ever, wondered anymore how Sophia knew things. I had stopped trying to figure it out years ago. She loaded Ivy up with hand-poured all-natural soy candles that had roots and herbs in them, gave her a bottle of different essential oils, and lastly offered a peppermint one that had a completely different label than the others.

“What does that do?” I asked.

“That’s for bugs,” she explained, chuckling. “Kelly told me to order that, and he was right. It’s been a steady seller.”

Kelly Seaton was a landscaper—gardener, actually—who was now in a relationship with Cosimo Renaldi, one of the two police officers in town. I’d known they were together before anyone else because I had been there the night their friendship combusted and became so much more. And even though Coz and I had been on a date that night, once he saw his best friend and they finally talked, I had become just a memory. I really should have been more upset, but as much as I lusted after Coz, in truth I was not certain that he’d ever have believed me when I told him that him having lost his right arm in an attack while in the military did not diminish my desire for him.

I was sure some men saw Coz’s missing limb as a detractor from his beauty, but all one had to do was take inventory of the whole of him, the shoulders and long legs, and the powerful, muscular body, and the lack of an arm would be found of no consideration. But the only person Coz ever really believed about anything was Kelly Seaton, so it made perfect sense that they were now living together in Kelly’s Craftsman bungalow.

“What do you do with the peppermint oil?” I asked Sophia.

“You put some in a spray bottle, add water, and then just go around the doors and windows of your house. Spiders hate it and so do mice.”

“Really?”

She nodded, smiling at me. “Kelly told me, and he’s right, it works.”

“Okay, then.”

“So that one is for the house,” she explained to Ivy. “The rest are for your mind and body. And if you get cramps, you let me know.”

Ivy flicked her gaze to me and because I was smiling, she did as well.

“Some women never get them. Maybe you dodged the bullet.”

Ivy nodded.

“So,” Sophia said softly, looking between us. “I need you both to keep an eye out for someone who needs a job, all right?”

We agreed.

“And Hutch, be nice to her father.”

“Of course.”

She gave me a look.

“What?”

“Just—he’s been through a lot. The whole family has. Don’t judge.”

“When do I judge?”

I got a second look, and then she went to help some other customer pick out a scrying crystal.

“That store is awesome and I love Sophia,” Ivy told me once we were out on the sidewalk. “I so want to work there when I get old enough.”

“I think that’s a great plan.”

“Can we walk over to the high school so I can see it?”

“Sure, but first I have to go by the construction site for the community center and look in on my construction manager. It sounds like she might need me.”

“That sounds like fun,” she said excitedly. “Can I wear one of those hard hats?”

“I don’t think so.”

“But maybe—oh wait, that’s my dad.” I chuckled as I took the hemp bag full of goodies she’d been given by the nicest Wiccan I knew so she could pull her phone out of her pocket.

I was interested to hear what she was going to tell him
. F
rom what I knew already, she was logical and smart and had a way with words. But somehow, when she spilled it all to her dad over the phone, he didn’t get that at all. She reminded me of me and my first boyfriend, of all things. All our interactions had always been made to sound worse than they really were so that Dad could figure out a way to ride to my rescue. It was like she was suddenly Little Girl Lost and needed her daddy to save her.

I whacked her shoulder to get her attention.

“Owww,” she whined.

“Gimme the phone.”

“What?”

“Gimme the phone. You’re gonna give him a heart attack.”

Once her iPhone was in my hand and I was about to say hello, the growl tore through me. “Are you insane? What if he’s a psychopath! I’m calling the police.”

I coughed. “There are only three policemen in town, and I’m friends with all of them.”

“Who the hell is this?”

“Hutch Crowley, the psycho.”

“Mr. Crowley?”

“Yes.”

“How dare you take my daughter anywhere without informing me first!”

“What was I supposed to do, Mr. Dodd, leave her on the back steps of your home crying her eyes out?”

“You should have talked to me!”

I wanted to land all over him, but Sophia’s weirdly timed words hung in the air. Be nice to her father… so I stopped, took a breath, and changed direction. “I’m sorry I didn’t; I should have thought of that first. I should have called and asked permission,” I said gently, turning and walking a few feet away from her. “But she was crying and she was rambling about everything with her mom and her aunt and she just started her period and—”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Her period,” I repeated. “She’s a woman now.”

“What?”

Poor man, his voice went out on him and he sounded terrible. I rounded on her, pressing the phone to my chest. “You didn’t tell your father you started your period?”

She was mortified. “Oh God, no, we don’t talk about that stuff.”

“What do you talk about?”

“As little as possible,” she groaned.

“That’s not healthy,” I volleyed.

“You want to give me advice right now?” She snickered.

“Young lady,” I began. “You—”

“My dad’s having a seizure at the moment, so could it wait?”

I grunted.

She smiled and gestured for the phone. When I passed it back, she took a breath. “He’s an angel straight from heaven, Dad, I swear to God.” She listened for a moment. “No. He’s as old as you, I think—” She put the phone over her heart. “What’re you, like, fifty?”

“I beg your pardon?”

She cackled. “Come on, Crowley, how old?”

“I’m forty-four, you witch,” I retorted indignantly.

Her laughter came bubbling out of her. “Oh, I wish I was a witch.” She cackled again and then told her father about wanting to be a Wiccan because they were peaceful and kind. She went on to tell him that I was, apparently, only a year younger than him. “And he’s hot for being old.”

I threw up my hands as she started laughing again. “Gimme the phone,” I demanded, and when I had it again, I said kindly, “Mr. Dodd, I can assure you that I’m not any kind of path—psycho, socio, or otherwise. Your daughter is safe with me until you or her aunt—”

“She’s laughing.”

She was, mostly at me. “I’m sorry?”

“She’s laughing,” he repeated hoarsely as I watched his daughter root around in the bag of supplies she had taken back from me.

“Yes, sir, she is,” I agreed. “It took a bit, but she’s been doing that most of the day.”

He took a breath. “It took you most of the day? It’s only a little after one, Mr. Crowley.”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“She hasn’t laughed since her mother died. Not once. I didn’t know when, or if, she ever would again.”

“Oh.”

“And one afternoon with you, and I can hear that husky giggle she’s been giving me since she was a baby.”

I stayed quiet.

“So,” he sighed. “Mr. Crowley.”

“Yes?”

“Please tell me… what are you doing for your next miracle?”

It seemed like he was actually interested, and charmed, and I knew it was only because of his daughter, but his deep, sexy voice did weird, unexpected things to my stomach anyway, just the same way Mike’s did. I really needed to get laid.

I coughed to hide my embarrassment. “I’m taking her to a construction site because I have people I need to talk to there, and then we’re going to take a tour of the high school and see if we can meet with the girls’ soccer coach, and finally, I was going to offer her my guest room until either you or her aunt shows up. Does that work?”

He made a noise of disgust.

“No?”

“Oh, no,” he rumbled. “Your plan is good. I just hope I show up before my wife’s sister does. Genevieve will make a very big deal about me not being there and about my niece bailing on Ivy.”

“Oh, I see.”

“The ‘unfit’ thing has been tossed around since I came out.”

“That must be hard.”

“Between being gay and being a fireman, I’m not sure which she hates more.”

I had no idea what to say to that, except to make a joke. “Homosexual or death wish: must be hard for her to choose.”

He sighed heavily. “I’m sorry. You didn’t ask to be involved.”

“Of course I did,” I corrected him. “I went to her, not the other way around.”

“She did tell you I was gay, didn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“And apparently that hasn’t alienated you, so I’m thankful, as you’re the only one close enough to take care of my child.”

“Well,” I said, chuckling, “making you feel alienated for being gay would be awfully hypocritical of me since I am as well.”

It was quiet on his end.

“Mr. Dodd?”

“I didn’t—she didn’t tell me you…. Jesus, I wouldn’t have been so blunt had I known.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I would have been less open.”

“Less?”

“I just—I promised myself I would focus on Ivy from now on, so I can’t date, and I thought that certainly you were straight and so perhaps I could have a friend.”

“We can’t be friends since we’re both gay?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“It’s the same premise that men and women can’t be friends unless one of them is gay. There’s always the potential for more.”

“I disagree.” I snickered. “But if you don’t want to be my friend, Mr. Dodd, that’s okay. Neighbors will be enough.”

“Now you think I’m a lunatic.”

“No. Now I think you’re an egomaniac. I have a very specific type, Mr. Dodd, and I assure you, you’re not it.”

“Oh? Don’t date black men?”

“Firemen,” I teased.

I finally heard where Ivy got her good laugh from.

“Touché.”

A WEEK
later, Ivy and I had fallen into a routine. She normally got up first, fed Benny, turned on the Keurig, made herself a vanilla latte, and went out into my backyard and threw the ball for my dog while she sipped her coffee. I would come stumbling down, get my coffee, make breakfast, and we would get on our iPads and read the newspaper. The Mangrove Gazette was cute but not particularly informative unless you missed a town meeting. And even though I had, there was another one every Monday night at eight.

“Why don’t more people come to this?” Ivy had asked, sounding bright and cheerful as we sat down together in the second row.

I had grinned at her, and Sophia—who flopped down on the other side of her—and Arad Hadjian—the other police officer in town besides Coz—who also joined us, both rolled their eyes. Mike came in right before the meeting began and took the seat beside me that I always saved for him. After being there for twenty minutes listening to the mayor read the minutes from the last meeting, Ivy said Oh like she suddenly understood the meaning of life.

“It’s a snoozefest,” she whispered.

“Yep,” I yawned, getting as comfortable as I could in a metal folding chair and jostling Mike from his dozing.

The town was simply too small to need a meeting every week. There was no “breaking news” that everyone didn’t already know. Eleven thousand people just didn’t generate that much news. There were high school football stadiums that held more people than lived in Mangrove.

“Remind me to not come with my dad when he gets here.”