Page 155 of Blooming Up My Second Chance
Behind me, Millie sighs the sigh of a ten-year-old with zero patience for adult nonsense. “Mom. Book club.”
Right. Book club. Where I’m supposed to go and discuss fictional romance and not think about grumpy marina owners with nice forearms and irritating opinions.
“I have to go,” I tell Paul. “But rest assured, I’ll dream about port running lights tonight. Thanks to you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“I know.”
I sweep past him, kids in tow, and I absolutely do not notice the way his eyes follow me as I walk away. I definitely don’t notice, because noticing would be ridiculous. Paul is my nemesis. My adversary. My extremely annoying neighbor who thinks he knows everything about boats just because he owns a marina.
The fact that he’s objectively attractive is irrelevant.
Completely irrelevant.
“Mom,” Jenna says as we board the houseboat. “You know you were smiling at him, right?”
“I was not.”
“You were. You had your fighting smile on.”
“My fighting smile is not the same as smilingat him.”
“It kind of is, though.”
“Go do your homework.”
“I thought it didn’t exist.”
“It exists now. It existsso much. Go.”
She goes, smirking in that knowing way teenagers have perfected. Millie follows, already pulling out her math book like the overachiever she is. Aidan announces he needs to draw a picture of the proposal for his journal, except in his version, there will definitely be a dolphin.
I stand in the doorway of my tiny, leaky, electrically-questionable houseboat, and I look out at the marina.
Paul is still on the dock, talking to his son, gesturing at something on one of the boats. Dawson is nodding, actually paying attention for once. It’s a nice moment, father and son, the kind of moment I used to dream about when I was married to someone who was never really there.
As if he feels me watching, Paul looks up.
Our eyes meet across the water.
I look away first, because I’m a mature adult who doesn’t engage in staring contests with her annoying neighbor.
But my heart does a little flip anyway, traitorous thing that it is.
I close the door, grab my bag, and head out to book club.
