Marie bounced another popcorn kernel off Cari’s forehead. “When Walter left me, I felt like crawling under a rock. But I forced myself to book a spa weekend at Salish Lodge. Just me, myself, and a big pile of murder books. They treated me like a queen. I wasted zero time thinking about my ex.” She thumped her chest. “I came back rested, relaxed, and ready to tackle my new life as a single mom.”
Laurie nodded. “Isn’t there a spa out by Trappers Cove? Sea Queen something?”
Danielle shrugged. Her previous visits to that kitschy Washington beach town centered around seashell hunting, go-karts, mini-golf, sampling saltwater taffy—family stuff. Other than a raucous brew pub and a handful of art galleries, she had no idea what Trappers Cove offered for adults. “I’m not really the spa type.”
“Said no one who’s ever been to a spa.” Cari waved off Danielle’s comment with a flick of her fingers. “Take the money you’d spend on kid stuff and spend it on yourself.”
Danielle gnawed on a ragged cuticle. Spa or no spa, some low-stress time at the beach sounded appealing—except that Trappers Cove oozed memories of happier times. Going there alone would only hammer home her loss. “I’d have that three-bedroom house all to myself. Seems like a waste.”
Marie sighed. “Wish I could join you, but I volunteered to help at my kids’ science camp.”
“And I’ll be in court for the rest of the month,” Cari added.
“Sorry, Dani.” Laurie flashed a crooked grin. “I promised to go to Spokane and help my sister with her new baby.” She squeezed Danielle’s knee, her eyes warm with sisterly affection. “But you should go. Really. It’ll do you good.”
Danielle straightened from her slump. Like it or not—and she damn sure didn’t like it—thanks to Jason, she was stuck with the beach house rental. Maybe a few weeks away from home could help her figure out her next steps as a newly single mom. She stuffed a handful of popcorn into her mouth and chewed on the snack and her dilemma.
Finally, she nodded. “Okay. You’re right. I’ll go.”
“You will?” Laurie pulled her in for a warm, squishy hug. “That’s great, Dani.”
Marie pumped a bejeweled fist in the air. “You go, girlfriend. Paint that cheesy beach town red.”
Cari raised her glass. “Here’s to fresh starts.”
They all clinked glasses, then Danielle lifted her paperback from the coffee table. “So, are we gonna discuss the book or not?”
Laurie waggled her eyebrows. “Good thing we picked a murder mystery and not a romance. Let’s talk bloody vengeance.”
Chapter Two
Saturday, June 22nd
Thoughitfeltbeyondweird to be here without her kids, Danielle realized—with a twang of mom guilt—she was almost enjoying her first day in Trappers Cove. The crowded main drag was so much easier to stroll without Noah and Olivia halting every few feet to beg for treats or souvenirs. Danielle slid through the crowd at her own pace, pausing to admire a display of blown glass vases and flip through a rack of colorful summer dresses. A reluctant smile tugged her lips upward as she inhaled the familiar scents of kettle corn, fish and chips, and salty sea. Maybe two weeks of this would do her some good after all.
Then she caught sight of her reflection in a shop window.
“Ugh.” She’d smoothed her shoulder-length brown mane into a low ponytail, but the humid ocean breeze pulled tendrils loose and curled them into a wild frizz that totally clashed with her crisp outfit. She untucked her blouse from her linen skirt. Nope. Now she just looked sloppy.
Across the street, a pack of teen girls shrieked with laughter. The sight stabbed her with longing for her own daughter. Only thirteen, Olivia already possessed the sharp eye of a natural fashionista. She’d know exactly how to style Mom’s outfit.
What would Olivia do? Danielle knotted her blouse at the waist. Better. Almost jaunty. Eyeing her reflection critically, she tugged the cloth lower to cover a soft roll of pale flesh.Marie’s right. I need sun.
Her exposed middle rumbled. Well, she might lack company on this trip, but she sure didn’t lack for culinary delights. During the school year, she’d opt for something healthy—an apple, perhaps, with low-fat string cheese. But this trip was about pampering her wounded heart and exhausted body. She scanned the street for the most deliciously sinful option. Snow cones, soft pretzels with gooey cheese sauce, pizza by the slice…
Bingo! Sandals slapping on the pavement, she made for her favorite gelato shop, Gelateria Paradiso. For as long as she remembered, trips to Trappers Cove included a visit to Salvatore, the opera-singing, silver-haired signore who always greeted her with a flirtatious “Ciao, bella.” Exactly what she craved: sugar and sweet talk.
She entered the narrow storefront and took her place in line behind a family with three squirmy littles. Beneath bright posters of the Amalfi coast, she hummed along to the strains of Nessun Dorma while daydreaming of top-down rides on twisting, cliff-side roads above a sparkling blue sea.
“Ciao, bella.” The unfamiliar voice snapped her reverie.
“Oh, uh,” she stammered at the gorgeous young man smiling behind the counter. Dark, curly hair, wide, lush-lipped mouth, cleft chin covered with dusky scruff, and espresso-brown eyes that twinkled with flirtatious mischief. Broad shoulders filled out his tight black T-shirt beautifully.
Like a scene from a Fellini movie, everything around her slowed and blurred as his gaze slid down her body, then back up to her eyes and lingered for a long, breathless moment.
His glossy eyebrows flicked up in a cheeky salute. “Welcome to Paradiso, signora. Tell me, how can I serve you today?” With his ice cream scoop, he waved toward the Italian ices. “Something tart to soothe the heat? Limone or mandarino? Or perhaps something richer.” He leaned onto the glass case and rested his perfect cleft chin on his fist. “Cioccolato fondente? Zabaglione? Tiramisu?” Rolling off his tongue, the words sounded far more like seductive foreplay than dessert options.
She swallowed hard and tugged her collar away from her suddenly sweaty chest. “Uh—so many choices. I can’t decide.”
