Chapter 3

Wyatt sat on his deck, a glass of lemonade beside him that would take him an hour to finish. He loved the first, very cold sip, and he loved the last, almost warm one too. He liked watching the waves roll ashore on the beach about a mile away, but he didn’t have to be around people to do it.

He spent so much time around people, and sometimes he really needed a day of no talking. Now that Jennifer was married and off the island, Wyatt could go hours without speaking to someone.

Turned out, the silence wasn’t as wonderful as he’d imagined it might be. He reached down and stroked Tigger, the German shepherd mix he’d found tangled in a buoy line a few years ago. No collar. He’d put out the word about the lost dog through every channel he had in Getaway Bay, but no one had come forward to claim the dog.

And Christine had just passed away, and Wyatt had needed a new companion. He loved Tigger with everything in him, and the dog sure did seem to like him too. He took him to work, to the grocery store, everywhere the dog could go and not have to wait in the hot car.

“She told me no, Tig,” he said to the dog, still fixated on Deirdre’s rejection of him from the previous night. He’d thought about calling her and asking her to join him for tacos that night, but he still had some pride when it came to the woman.

He’d messed things up with them last time, and she’d obviously moved past him. They’d only gone out for a month, and he had been severely unavailable during that time. He couldn’t blame her for patting his chest and saying, “Wyatt, this isn’t working. I don’t think you’re ready.”

She’d been kind, and Wyatt had always been attracted to her physically and emotionally. She had a heart of gold, and there was so much more about her he wanted to know.

His phone bleeped out a sound that indicated his sergeant had messaged. Wyatt didn’t want to look at the text, but he couldn’t ignore it for very long. He took another sip of lemonade and drew in a long, deep breath. Then he picked up the phone.

Cam Locke was a good man. He ran a tight ship when he was in charge, and he’d be a good Chief when Wyatt retired.

How was the Sandy Singles event?

Wyatt rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe he’d broken his tranquil afternoon to read a text like that. His stomach growled for more than lemonade, and while he still had his phone in his hand, he saw that the food delivery app had Nuts About Dough listed as open. While it wasn’t breakfast time anymore, the pastry shop did stay open later on weekends, and a Morning Sunrise would hit the spot about now.

Sausage patty, over-easy egg, delicious mayo mixed with relish, all on a doughnut for a bun. And it would show up at his house in less than twenty-five minutes.

Satisfied with his purchase, he set his phone back on the table and faced the water again. “Then we’ll go chase a ball, okay?”

Tigger didn’t answer, but Wyatt knew the dog would perk right up the moment the tennis ball came out. The dog would literally do anything to find it, and Wyatt did love watching him dig in the sand until Tigger found his mark. With the proper training, he could be a good rescue or drug dog, but he hadn’t gotten started with the training early enough in his life.

His breakfast sandwich arrived, and Wyatt took his time eating it, the same way he savored his lemonade. Really, he was buying time until he had to leave the shade of his deck and take the dog to the beach. But he’d be happier if he did, because then Tigger would sleep for a bit that evening.

Not that Wyatt had anything to do that night. Maybe more tacos. A shaved ice. Alone. He wondered if he would always be alone.

Maybe his heart could stand the thought of another rejection if the possibility of not being alone was the reward.

Maybe.

***

Monday morning, Wyatt walked into the police station, the activity there a little too high, even for a Monday morning. “Morning, Norma,” he said to his secretary, and she immediately shot to her feet.

“Sir, there’s a woman in your office.”

“Oh?” He picked up his mail and looked at Norma. “Good visit or bad?”

“That depends on the woman, doesn’t it?” She grinned, and Wyatt decided that certainly couldn’t mean he had an angry patron in his office, though Norma usually kept them away fairly easily.

“Well, who is it?” He glanced toward his office door, but it was closed. “And thanks for telling everyone about the Sandy Singles event.”

“What?” She pressed one hand to her chest in mock horror. “I didn’t tell anyone anything.”

“Mm hm,” he said, disinterested in his mail but still looking at it like he cared. “Right. That’s why Cam texted me over the weekend.”

“Maybe he was there.”

“He wasn’t.”

“How did it go?”

Wyatt looked up and met Norma’s eye. “Never let me go to one of those again.”

“Maybe Cam just happened to see it on your calendar,” Norma said, a smile blooming across her face. “And you know, my sister—”

“Nope,” Wyatt said, cutting her off quickly. “I can get my own dates.” He’d told Cal Lewiston, a friend from his grief meetings, the same thing. So the Sandy Singles event hadn’t worked out. There were other ways to meet women. In fact, he had one waiting for him in his office right now.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the office door opened, drawing his attention there. “Deirdre?” He cut a glance at Norma. “Why didn’t you say it was Deirdre?” He barely hissed the words out of the corner of his mouth as he dropped his mail back on Norma’s desk and stepped toward his office.

Deirdre looked okay. She hadn’t been crying. But why was she here? “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

She kept her gaze past him, clearly watching Norma. Smart, as his secretary had the hearing of an eagle. Or a deer. A dog. Whichever animal had really good hearing, that was Norma.

He took Deirdre by the elbow and nudged her into his office. His fingers tingled though he was forty-four years old. When the door clicked closed behind him, he asked again, “What are you doing here?”

“How was your weekend, Chief?”

She wanted to talk about his weekend? Wyatt watched her with a wary eye, wondering what kind of game this was. The Deirdre Bernard he knew didn’t play games. “Truthfully? It was dull. Boring. The highlight was when my dog rolled in the mud and I got to hose him down.”

Deirdre’s eyes sparkled like light blue diamonds. Like sunlight glinting off the waves he loved to watch. A laugh burst from her mouth, and she covered it with her hand. “Wow, that was the highlight?”

“Well, I didn’t find a date on Friday night, so yes. That was the highlight. Oh, but me and the delivery guys from FoodNow are getting tight.”

“You use FoodNow?”

“I love FoodNow,” he said. “It’s a game-changer for me. You haven’t used it?”

“I prefer to cook at home,” she said coolly.

Wyatt rounded his desk and sat down, probably a dozen things on his to-do list for the day. He’d know as soon as he powered on his computer, which he made no move to do. “So, Miss Bernard. What can I do for you?”

She cleared her throat and approached the desk, sitting in the chair opposite him. “I’m in trouble.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows went up, but his gaze remained steady.

“Yeah.”

“I know you’re going to be late for work,” he said. “Is that the kind of trouble you’re talking about?”

“No.” Those eyes positively glittered at him, and Wyatt realized with a start that she was flirting with him. Flirting. With him.

“Is this going to be a guessing game?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“All right.” He exhaled. “You’re out of almond milk, and you don’t have time to go to the store.”

She shook her head.

“You got another cat.”

“I don’t actually own any cats, I’ll have you know.”

“Mm, interesting.” Wyatt enjoyed this conversation, but he honestly had no idea what Deirdre needed from him. “Why don’t you just tell me what kind of trouble you’re in?”

“I’d really like some of those pork pot stickers for dinner tonight, but I hate going alone.”

He blinked rapidly then, not caring that he’d given away his whole hand. “The pork pot stickers from Bora Bora?”

“That would be the place.”

“I can see why that’s a problem,” he said. “I wouldn’t call it trouble, but—semantics.” He shrugged. “The lines have gotten long there, because the secret of the pork pot sticker seems to have spread far and wide on the island.” He picked up his phone and turned it over in his hand. Over and over.

“Yeah,” she said. “A real conundrum.”

He swiped and tapped and turned the phone toward her. “We could just order from FoodNow. Thirty minutes later, we have pork pot stickers at our disposal.”

“Wyatt Gardner, are you asking me to come over and eat dinner with you tonight?”

Wyatt chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, no, I’m not doing that. I did that two nights ago, and I got put in my place.” Two could play her flirting game, though she was definitely better at it than he was.

“What if I asked you to come over to my place and we could eat dinner together tonight?”

Wyatt considered her, sure he was about to open his chest and invite her to cut out his heart. “Well, then, I guess you’ve got yourself a date. I hear those FoodNow delivery guys are mostly single.”