She's the One (Lowcountry Lovers Series Book 2) (8 page)

“And he was okay with that?” She asked, staring into space. “All this time, I waited—I thought he’d come back. I haven’t even—
dated
anyone since—oh God, I was such a fool.”

There were no tears, just sheer disbelief on her part.

“Savannah, I meant what I said about helping you find someone.”

“No,” she shook her head, still bowled over by the fact that Jack was giving her up for good. “It’s not like I can’t—it’s just that I haven’t. Seen anyone. Since the divorce.”

Melissa had decided to be straight up with Savannah and told her she was a matchmaker.

“I have to tell you I used one before I met Jack.” Savannah rose and looked out the window toward the pool. “Or almost used one. All those computer tests, financial statements. Gaak. I felt like I was applying to colleges again.”

“I work a little differently than those folks, mostly on instinct.” And her instincts told her Savannah and Jack were perfect for each other; he was just too damn stubborn to see it.

“So how does it work?”

“To be honest, I’m not sure how it works, it just does.”

“Like a super power.”

“Sort of. I come from a long line of matchmakers on my daddy’s side. My Gramma and my great Auntie Jo brought hundreds of couples together. Auntie noticed I had the gift when I was sixteen, taught me how to use it, how to trust it.”

“Boy, I’ll bet she had an amazing love story.”

“That’s one of the drawbacks for some of us; we seem to be able to find love for everyone but ourselves. Most of us never marry. Auntie didn’t.”

“So, you’ve been like a nun?”

“No, I’ve dated.” Not lately. When was the last time she’d had a date? And now Shane had negotiated three? “It’s just when I’ve brought the right two people together, I get a kind of peace and joy that everything is as it should be in the world. I’ve never felt anything close to that with any man.” Except with Shane Carver—she’d felt plenty. Not joy and peace, but a push-pull of wanting and tenderness of feeling terrifyingly vulnerable yet safe. But when he’d hauled Cassie off on his shoulder, as awful as it should have been, the matchmaker part of her felt so very right. “The feelings I get are kind of addictive.” Was she talking about Shane or about finding the perfect match for someone other than herself? Or both?

“I want to get on with my life, Melissa, I do. I want somebody to love, kids.” She nodded, her face pained. “I’ve been out of the dating game for so long, if you can just help me—oh, God, I haven’t been on a date that wasn’t with Jack in over five years. Can I even do this?”

“Savannah, you’re beautiful and smart and fun, there was only one reason why you couldn’t have your happily ever after, and he’s out of the game.”

“I guess Jack bowed out a long time ago when he left, didn’t he? There was that night; we’d had a huge fight. We’d been fighting so much, when he said he wanted to end things, I didn’t believe him. I thought that—he’d come back to me. How stupid is that?” She grimaced. “I’ll pay you whatever you want. Let’s do this.”

Melissa shook her head. “I don’t take money for what I do.”

“Okay. So how does it work?” She asked tentatively.

“Unless we find your soul mate,” and Melissa was one hundred percent sure Savannah’s was stretched out on a lounge chair by the pool, “it’s kind of like shopping for shoes; you just have to try different ones on until you fall in love.”

Of course, that was not Melissa’s plan at all. She hoped that when Jack saw Savannah with someone else, he’d get his head out of his ass, and win her back. Sure, it sounded a little Parent Trappish, but clichés like that existed because they actually worked.

Melissa didn’t tell Savannah that part of the plan, in case it didn’t work. The important thing was that Savannah Sinclair was open to finding love or love finding her.

M
elissa wasn’t ready when Shane arrived at her house well before six with roses, or rose bushes, to be more precise. Two climbers for the arbor he had made for Melissa just after she bought the house. While he put the flowers in the ground and adjusted the irrigation system to care for them, Melissa finished a couple of emails and changed into a bathing suit.

For early April, the day had been hot, but when the sun slipped over the creek side of the island, it would be cool enough for yoga pants and a t-shirt. She couldn’t help but smile at his momentary disappointment when she made her entrance clothed from the neck down. He rebounded quickly, picking up a large picnic basket with a Cru Café logo on the side. Another favorite of hers, whenever she went into Charleston for otherworldly comfort food.

“I told Mike Petrillo this was for you,” Shane said. “He said to remind you mac and cheese doesn’t picnic well.”

“That is
so
not true. Mike’s just picky.” But as executive chef, he should be. It was one of the things that made Cru special. “You have solo cups for that?” Melissa nodded at the wine, knowing Shane was well aware of the no alcohol on the beach laws some of the locals complained about.

When she’d first met him, he’d told her just after he moved to the Lowcountry, he’d gotten busted on his first trip to the island, which sounded much worse than it actually was. He’d paid a hefty fine and learned to be more creative like the rest of the locals who drank out of everything from Solo cups to sippy cups.

They headed out the door and Melissa stopped when she saw the hot pink roses he’d tethered to the trellis. They were about three feet tall and would cover the trellis before the first frost in December.

“Oh, Shane, they’re beautiful. Thank you.” She fingered the band around one of the canes to see what type of roses they were.
Don Juan
. Shocker.

She grabbed two squatty beach chairs from the carport, slipped into her flip-flops and they headed up 30th Street, hand in hand, toward the beach. The connection was still there; Shane’s cocky smile said he felt it too, but honestly, it confused the hell out of Melissa. She wished Gramma or Auntie were still alive to tell her what it meant. Did this mean that Shane was settling for her? It didn’t matter; the connection between the two of them wasn’t anything like the fireworks she’d seen between him and Cassie.

The path had grown over a bit during the offseason; it was still wide enough to hold hands, but Melissa was grateful to let go and lead the way like nothing was happening between the two of them. Tangles of vines caught on her pants. She could feel Shane checking out her ass whenever she stopped to free herself. Oh well, turnabout was fair play.

Melissa loved this path, even though it seemed like the only one on the whole island the city didn’t maintain very well. She couldn’t see the ocean from it, but could hear waves. The path meandered a little, always ending with an incredible view of a wide pristine beach and the beautiful Atlantic. But today was different.

A small white tent was anchored into the sand. Three unlit candles in hurricane-type vases were arranged in the center of a café table with two chairs. Shane had even put down the kind of temporary floor people use for outdoor parties.

He was so gorgeous with a full on grin.

“Shane, this is beautiful. Thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it.” He put the basket on the table and set the beach chairs side by side near the surf. She slipped out of her pants and tee and joined him.

“Thanks for talking to Ben about the pool. He got some preliminary numbers and sketches to the Gladstones, and they are very happy.

“Well, there’s a miracle,” he laughed.

“It wouldn’t have happened without you.”

S
hane was smart enough not to bring up anything that had happened Saturday night, at least not now. Melissa seemed relaxed, happy, and was drop-dead gorgeous in her tiny, white bikini. Her short, perfect legs were stretched out in front of her, her toes digging into the sand.
And
she was talking business.

Not exactly what he wanted, but at least she was talking to him, instead of trying to pawn Cassie off on him. He’d rather cut his own balls off than get back together with her. Hell, Cassie was the kind of girl who’d be more than happy to do that for him.

He opened one of the bottles of wine from the cooler and filled two Solo cups before stashing it out of sight. He’d gotten to know a lot of cops on the Isle Of Palms playing softball at the island rec center. He didn’t think any of them would give him a hard time about the wine, or the setup on the beach. But the last thing he wanted was to get busted tonight. It would only mean a ticket, which he didn’t care about, but the cop would take the wine—probably drink it himself—and Shane had counted on the wine the chef had paired with their dinner loosening Melissa up.

Not that he was trying to get her drunk. He wasn’t; he just wanted her to stay relaxed and focused on the here and now, on what he was sure she felt for him. As he headed back to their chairs, he couldn’t stop smiling. He was proud he’d gone all out for tonight. The only thing he regretted was that he’d been behind her on the path and hadn’t seen her face when she saw the tent.

He handed her a cup and sat back down. “Damn dolphins.”

“What?” She looked across the surf to see what he was talking about.

“They said they’d be here by now, putting on a show like they did last year. You just can’t count on them. All they care about is eating and frolicking.”

“Frolicking, huh?” She raised her shades and laughed. Yeah, she remembered. The first time she’d asked him to help her with a project they’d worked all day, scraping six layers of linoleum off of her kitchen floor. It was early November, warm, sunny, a gorgeous Lowcountry day. They’d brought the beach chairs down to relax; watch the sun set. A group of dolphins was feeding and had put on a Sea World worthy performance. Growing up on the island, Melissa had probably seen that sight a million times, but she was fascinated and utterly giddy. Probably from sheer exhaustion, but he remembered thinking it’d be really nice to have all that excitement directed at him. He was counting on that when she dove into the picnic dinner from Cru.

After beach sitting for about an hour, they headed up to the tent. He pulled out her chair for her and started unpacking the basket, setting out the first course. Shane wasn’t too sure about the duck confit arugula salad, but Mike had assured Shane it was Melissa’s favorite. He tossed the salad in the vinaigrette and served it up. By the look on her face, the chef had been right.

It kind of bugged Shane that Mike knew what Melissa loved when it came to food and that asshole guitarist knew what she loved when it came to music. It wasn’t that Shane didn’t want to know everything about her; he had let her keep him at a distance. But not anymore.

“So what was your favorite thing about growing up on the island?” He lit the candles in the hurricane glasses and sat back down.

“We lived at the corner of 30th Street and Waterway Boulevard, which is as far away as you can get from the beach, but still only a few blocks away.”

“So you’ve been walking that path for a long time.”

“Since before I was born. But I never saw anything as beautiful as this, Shane.”

“Just wait until you see the sunset I ordered.” He loved her laugh, the way her face lit up with a look that was almost mischievous. “Seriously, thanks for going out with me tonight.”

She blushed and finished her salad before nosing around in the basket for the main course. Pinching off a piece of the triple fudge and salt caramel brownies, she popped it into her mouth, and then made a little sound. He wanted her under him making that same sound, but for now, he’d settle for whatever she would give him, hopefully more kisses. Might not happen tonight, but he was prepared to wait as long as it took.

The fried chicken and the rest of the fixings Cru put together were phenomenal and Melissa seemed to be having a good time. She poured herself another glass of wine and motioned for him to join her on the beach chairs. She started opening up a little more, telling him stories about growing up on the island. She’d made it sound idyllic and it probably was, up until her dad passed away. She’d been fourteen at the time, and when she talked about him, sometimes her voice trembled.