“You’ve never heard of him?” Lacey tried to snag the phone, but Tessa swooped it away.
“Pfft. Please. I don’t think I’ve watched a whole football game in my life. Come on, let me see him.”
“No.”
“Lacey! I have to have right of first approval.” She clicked the notification button and Lacey was certain she’d pass out.
“Whoa.” She dragged the word out. “He’s a cutie. And look what he said.” Tessa grinned and angled the screen so Lacey could read the message and take the phone.
“What?” she croaked.
“‘Yes, let’s talk.’”
“He wants to talk?” Her voice broke with nerves.
Laughing, Tessa pressed the phone into Lacey’s hand. “Looks like you have a date on your calendar, Miss Lacey Knight.”
“With…Roman Matteo.” She searched Tessa’s face. “You’re sure you never heard of him?”
“Told you, no football for me. But I guess I’ll hear of him now, since just the mention of his name seems towreckyou.” She laughed and pushed off the desk. “Have fun but be careful. He looks like a player. And I don’t mean football.”
She winked, pivoted, and disappeared out the door, leaving it open so Lacey could hear her footsteps disappear down the hall.
Only then did she collapse in horror and stare at the response from…Tessa’s son.
What the heck had she gotten herself into?
Tessa and Jo Ellen crossed Gulf Shore Drive and walked the short distance to the entrance of the neighborhood marina. There, a twenty-nine-foot Sea Ray that Tessa had skillfully managed to negotiate as payment from a client waited in its slip.
Getting her client to agree to give her the beautiful cabin cruiser had been a massive coup on Tessa’s part—a boat was a huge perk in a place surrounded by water. But the real benefit was the fact that this marina reminded her so much of her father.
The privately-owned warren of wharves with rental slips had been upgraded and rebuilt over the years, but it had the same understated vibe, appealing to the owners of small boats and the locals.
Artie and Roger had always worked a deal with the guy who ran the marina to rent a cheap fishing vessel for the months they’d spent here. Her father loved to take out whatever boat they had, throw down a line, and fish until he ran out of bait.
He and Tessa had some great talks on this small waterway that connected to Destin Harbor. Now, she just liked to sit on her boat and think about him.
As she and her mother walked across the wooden docks, chatting about how the marina had expanded over thirty years, Tessa knew the same memories were dancing in Jo Ellen’s head.
As they made their way to her slip, they passed the marina office, a sun-washed wooden building with cheery blue trim. Before they reached it, the manager stepped out of a screen door and waved to them.
“Hey, Tessa,” he called in greeting. “Good to see you again.”
“Hey, Clay.” Tessa slowed her step as they approached the young man, a really dedicated worker in his mid-thirties. “This is my mother, Jo Ellen Wylie. Mom, this is Clay Donahue.”
Jo Ellen’s eyes flickered with recognition at the name. “A Donahue still runs this place?”
Clay grinned. “Yes, ma’am. My family’s been managing this marina since my grandfather’s days. Not that he’s given anything up,” he added with a laugh. “Grandad Seamus comes here plenty, trying not to tell me how to do my job.” He tipped his chin toward the door of the small building. “He’s back there now, as a matter of fact.”
Jo Ellen gasped. “Seamus Donahue is here?”
“Who’s looking for me?” The screen door swung again, and out stepped a tall, white-haired man in a faded Guy Harvey T-shirt. Well into his seventies, he had the leathery sun-weathered look of someone who’d spent a lifetime on the water. His hair still held a bit of a curl, and his sea-blue eyes scanned them with curiosity. “Need some fishing tips, ladies?”
“Seamus!” Jo Ellen stepped forward, lifting the brim of her sunhat and then taking it off as though she needed to get a better look. “I can’t believe it! It’s Jo Ellen, Artie Wylie’s wife.”
“What in the heck?” He reached out and wrapped her in a hug, practically scooping her out of her sandals. “Artie Wylie?” He eased her back and looked around. “Where is that SOB? Hestill owes me a beer for that forty-five-pound snapper I helped him haul in.”
Tessa’s heart dropped and so did her mother’s expression. Enough that Tessa was certain she saw Jo Ellen’s eyes fill, so she stepped up to answer the question.
