Shoreline Drive (7 page)

“Ow,” Merry said, giving Taylor two raised brows. “Words hurt, you know.”

Interestingly, Merry thought she detected a slight sheen to Taylor’s brown eyes, even as the little brat sneered. “The truth hurts,” Taylor said crushingly.

And it was the truth, Merry realized. The least flattering take on it possible, but still, nothing Taylor had said was a lie.

“You’re right,” Merry said slowly. “I can’t say I regret much about my life—if I’d made other choices, maybe I wouldn’t have Alex. And I’d never give him up for anything. But if I’d had him when I was your age … I can’t imagine. I’d be even more dependent on my family for help than I already am. And maybe it’s time for me to realize I
am
a grown-up. I have options; I can choose.”

Taylor looked interested against her will. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, thanks for the tough talk.” Merry smiled into Taylor’s confused, suspicious face as a sense of possibility rushed through her like an ocean breeze. “You helped me see that it’s time for a change. And in return, I’ll let you decide whether I keep your secret about what you were up to tonight.”

“Whatever. You’re a whack job.” Taylor rolled her eyes, her slim fingers fidgeting fretfully with the hem of her T-shirt.

Silence stretched through the car, broken only by the soothing sound of the tires on the road. Merry flicked off the headlights and turned in to the long, winding driveway that led up to Harrison McNamara’s house on the bluff, overlooking the ocean.

Slowing the car, she looked at Taylor. “What’s it going to be? I can let you out here, and chances are you’ll get away with tonight scot-free.”

“You really do know all the tricks,” Taylor said, unwillingly impressed.

“Babe, I’ve forgotten more tricks than you’ll ever know,” Merry told her. “Really, when I look back, I’m surprised I’m still alive.”

“Drama much?” Taylor rolled her eyes again, then bit her lip. “I guess I’ll get out here. I don’t care about getting in trouble, but my dad has a lot going on right now at work, and he’s so happy to be back with Jo. I don’t really want to make trouble.”

“Sometimes you just can’t help it though, right?” Merry held back the sympathetic smile that tugged at her lips. “I get that.”

Taylor only huffed and climbed out of the car. But she didn’t slam the door shut—after a swift glance at the sleeping baby in the backseat, she pressed the door closed quietly, then hesitated for a moment.

Hitting the button to roll down the passenger side window, Merry asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Taylor wrapped her slender bare arms around herself, and Merry fought down the urge to remind her to bring a jacket the next time she snuck out. Mother of the Year, she was going to be!

“I just wanted to say thanks.” Taylor squinted into the distance as if worried that meeting Merry’s gaze would reveal too much. “For the ride, and everything. And for not saying anything to my dad or Jo. I don’t really care about getting in trouble for the curfew, but if my dad caught me out with a boy, even one I’m not going out with or anything…” She grimaced. “Bad news. Anyway, Dad and Jo are happy. They don’t need to be stressing about me right now.”

Merry didn’t know how to explain what she’d only recently come to understand, herself—that parents always worried, but even that worry was a joy and a privilege because it went along with a love so deep and pure that it was worth any amount of stress.

“It’ll be our secret,” she said instead, and was rewarded with a quirked, reluctant half-smile before Taylor disappeared up the hill toward the white house.

Connection made.

As Merry backed slowly up the driveway, she felt that same flutter of possibility she’d gotten during the conversation with Taylor. The sense of the world opening up before her like an empty road unfurling into the horizon—that was something she’d felt before in her life, but only a few times.

Most recently was when she decided to keep her unborn baby and raise him without any help from his father … and then again when she’d made the choice to stay on Sanctuary Island, against the express wishes of the older sister who’d taken care of her since they were kids.

Cold night air blew in the open passenger window, invigorating and refreshing against her hot cheeks. She’d made a life-changing decision tonight, with no more thought and reason than that it felt right.

What the heck,
she thought, checking the rearview mirror to see her baby boy, plump and flushed with sleep, drooling onto his own shoulder.
It’s worked out okay for me so far.

“What do you think, Alex?” She kept her voice soft, not wanting to wake him. But he had to be included in this momentous decision, because it was all for him. “Wish me luck, baby boy. Tomorrow, Mama’s getting engaged.”

Chapter Five

What was a girl supposed to wear to her own engagement?

Merry smoothed a hand down the front of her black Misfits T-shirt and wished she owned something a little more businessy. After all, this was more of a straightforward contract negotiation than a romantic love scene.

Bet Miss Manners never covered the dress code for the modern marriage of convenience.

Anyway, it doesn’t matter,
she decided, lifting her chin and raising a hand to knock on Ben’s office door.
He can take me as I am, no illusions, no bull, or not at all.

The idea that she might have missed her chance at this sent a weird tingle of unease to tighten the hairs at the back of her neck. She had no idea if she’d be relieved or disappointed.

This is bonkers. What am I even doing here?

Before her feet could get any colder, she swung open the door and marched into the vet clinic.

It wasn’t the first time Merry had visited the office—she’d dropped off the payment for the weekly bills Windy Corner Stables racked up a couple of times. Both times, she’d handed the check off to a sweet-faced woman wearing glasses, a messy bun, and a harried expression, and both times, Merry had considered asking the poor woman if she wanted to grab a drink after work. For sure, being Dr. Crankypants’s office assistant would drive anyone to alcohol. But since she’d been pregnant at the time, she hadn’t done it, and now look—the woman had quit several weeks ago, and she’d taken every last vestige of organization and efficiency with her.

Haphazard piles of paper littered the desk by the door, cascading from the overflowing black metal in-box and onto the floor. Three of the four drawers in the corner file cabinet were pulled open, with color-coded manila folders sticking out of them at random. As Merry stood in the doorway, eyes wide, the phone on the desk started a shrill pattern of ringing that clicked almost immediately over to the answering machine. Glancing down at it, she saw the red light blinking, frantically signaling that the answering machine tape was almost full.

“Whoever you are, go away! Unless you’re here about the job, in which case, pick up the damn phone and get to work.” Ben’s shout was muffled through the door of his exam room, but Merry could clearly discern his impatience. Not a subtle guy, her future husband.

If he was in the exam room, he might be with a patient. Of course, she wouldn’t put it past him to be hiding in there with a cup of coffee and his paperwork, keeping his head down and hoping the mess out here would magically disappear.

Giving him the benefit of the doubt, Merry rubbed her damp palms on her thighs and decided to wait. But the only chair in Ben’s completely inhospitable waiting area was the one behind the receptionist’s desk, and it was buried under a mountain of paper.

Merry sighed. It might be a long wait, and she’d been on her feet since Alex’s predawn wake-up call. She marched over to the chair and started sifting through the bills, prescription pads, advertisements for new medications, and payment notifications. But once she had the chair cleaned off and ready for duty, it no longer matched the rest of the disaster area of an office. And what the heck, she already had several piles going for later filing, so she just kept adding to them and adding to them, until finally she looked up and realized that she’d tidied up the entire desk.

Rolling her shoulders to stretch out her stiff neck, Merry jumped in surprise when the exam room door opened and a retriever with a plastic cone around his fluffy neck bounded out. In the next instant, Merry had a cold, wet nose in her crotch and her hands full of soft, curly fur the burnished gold color of the leaves falling off the maple tree out front.

Crouching down to the dog’s level as two people followed him out, Merry ruffled his silky ears. “Oh now, who’s a good boy? I love your new collar, such a fashion statement, very avant-garde. All the lady retrievers are going to be all over you.”

“That collar isn’t decorative,” Ben said from above her. “It’s a cone of shame, to keep Bosley from licking himself raw.”

“Oh, Doctor,” an old lady’s voice quavered. “Don’t call it the cone of shame. I hate for him to feel we’re laughing at him, even if he does look silly. Bosley, the girl dogs will love it!”

Ben snorted. “Trust me, Bosley doesn’t care if he’s a hit with the ladies—why should he? When his tongue can reach his own—”

Merry stood up so quickly, all the blood rushed from her head. “Hi, Mrs. Ellery. Great turban.”

Mrs. Ellery blinked the slow, lazy blink of a woman who’d had an extra good time in the sixties. She smiled and the tiny bells sewn into her purple paisley head scarf tinkled merrily. “Meredith, honey. How’s your mama? And that sweet little boy of yours. He was getting so big when I saw y’all at the playground last week.”

This, right here, was why Merry was determined to bring Alex up on Sanctuary Island. The warmth and welcome she’d received was beyond anything she’d ever imagined—especially since she’d shown up in this tiny town five months ago as an unwed mother.

But no one here batted an eye. Maybe Merry was automatically accepted as one of the Hollister women, who’d been living on the island for generations. Or maybe it was that Sanctuary Island was home to a variety of misfits and oddballs who followed the golden rule about their neighbors’ quirks.

Merry smiled back. She liked the way Mrs. Ellery always called her by her full name. “They’re both good. Thanks for asking. And I hope Bosley will be up to playing by next Saturday! Alex will sob his eyes out if he doesn’t get to pull on poor Bosley’s ears at the park.”

With plenty of fluttering and wispy hand wringing, Mrs. Ellery promised to see Merry and Alex in the park, got her marching orders from Ben on patient care—“Don’t let him lick himself. Use a squirt bottle if you have to, or he’s going to get an infection in a really nasty place”—and bustled out of the clinic with her faithful companion padding along beside her.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Ben crossed his arms over his chest, making Merry notice the muscles in his biceps and shoulders, the solid strength of him. The wide planes of his chest narrowed to a lean waist that made Merry’s palms itch to touch, to see if it was as hard and ridged with muscle as it looked.

“Hello?” Impatience snapped in Ben’s tone as he waved a hand in front of her face, and Merry jumped, heart racing. Crap, she’d been staring.

Desperate to distract herself from the heat pooling low in her body, Merry grinned and arched a brow. “I know Mrs. Ellery is a woman of the world—heck, she probably had more sex than you and me in our whole lives put together during the Summer of Love alone—but that dog is her baby. And trust me, no mama wants to think about her little boy doing the nasty to himself.”

“I wasn’t talking about your morality policing,” Ben said, glowering down his nose at her. “I meant all this. The office.”

“Oh!” Stupidly, Merry felt the urge to apologize choke up into her throat, but she swallowed it down. She had nothing to apologize for.

“This place is a hot mess,” she said instead. “What have you been doing since your assistant left? Throwing your bills and diagnostic notes onto her desk and waiting for the elves to come at night and file them by magic?”

Ben rocked back on his heels while his eyes did a funny, shifty squint. “No!”

Merry laughed. “Oh, for the love of … that’s exactly what you’ve been doing. Doc, come on. Just hire someone new.”

“I tried,” he growled. “You think I like living this way? I’m going out of my mind, and I’ve interviewed what seems like every empty-headed bimbo on the Eastern Seaboard to find a replacement, but now the agency won’t send me anyone else.”

“I wonder why.” Merry studied the thunderous scowl on his handsome face. It was enough to scare the bejeebus out of any poor college kid looking for a summer job. “Have you thought about doing phone interviews?”

Grabbing a big black binder off the desk, Ben started flipping through it. “I need to get to my next appointment. If I can figure out what the hell it is. You got something to say, spit it out. I assume you didn’t come over here to clean my office and critique my interview style.”

Merry’s mouth went bone-dry. Licking her lips, she fought to keep her head up and her tone as straightforward as Ben’s. “No. I’m here to talk about your offer.”

Ben paused his riffling through the appointment calendar, his gaze trained stubbornly on the page in front of him. “My proposal, you mean.”

His sudden stillness communicated a level of nerves that, perversely, put Merry at ease. Hopping up to sit on the edge of the desk she’d cleared, she swung her booted feet and leaned back on her hands. “I thought about what you said, and you made some good points. So here’s my counteroffer.”

That got Ben to look at her. “I’m no expert, but I don’t think that’s how marriage proposals usually go.”

“Tough bananas. If you want somebody who’ll smile big and bat her eyes and agree with everything you say, propose to someone else. And I recommend you actually take her out to dinner first, at least once. Most girls would prefer you pop the question after a little courtship.”

Ben’s gaze sharpened thoughtfully. “Dinner! I should’ve taken you to dinner. Is the Firefly Café good enough, or would it have to be that fancy French place in Winter Harbor?”