quickly stood, refusing to go there even as a naughty part of her mind wished that he would. Leaving her office, she rounded the corner and stopped.
David stood in the middle of her shop wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a muscle shirt. The sight of his muscled abs and strong legs made Swan bite back a groan. Just when she thought he couldn’t get any sexier, he’d proved her wrong.
He must have heard the sound of her footsteps because he turned and smiled.
As if on cue, she smiled back. “Hello, David, you came to make more purchases?” Hopefully he would take the hint that she didn’t expect him to just drop by without a reason.
“Yes. I’m buying jewelry for my three sisters-in-law and would love for you to offer suggestions.”
Swan couldn’t help but smile since she liked making sales. What store owner wouldn’t? “I’d love to help you pick out pieces of jewelry for them.”
An hour later, Swan stood at the cash register to ring up all of David’s purchases. With her assistance, he’d selected some really nice pieces, with a number of the stones chosen specifically because that’s what he’d said they would like. Then he wanted earrings to complement the necklaces, which he paid for in advance. They decided to select stones for the earrings tomorrow since they’d spent a lot of time on the necklaces today and her shop would be closing in less than an hour.
From their conversation, she knew the Holloways were a close-knit family. He’d even pulled out his phone to show her pictures of his young niece and nephews.
“No pressure for you to marry?” she asked when he tucked his phone back into the pocket of his shorts.
“None. My parents have been married for more than forty years and are still very much in love. They make sure their kids and grandkids know that. They believe we will know when it’s time for us to marry without any pressure from them. We’ll be the ones to have to live with the people we choose. They just want all their children to be happy.”
She nodded. “I like the way your parents think. I want to believe that, had my parents lived, they would have a similar philosophy. Dad used to tell me all the time that he wanted me to grow up and be whatever I wanted to be and do whatever I wanted to do, and that he and Mom would always have my back.”
She suddenly felt a deep sense of loss. “Appreciate your parents, David. You never know how truly great they are until they’re gone. But in all honesty, I think I’ve always known I had great parents.”
At that moment, he did something she wouldn’t have expected from him—he reached out and took her hand. “They sound great and I know they’re proud of your accomplishments.”
“Thanks.” That was a nice thing for him to say. To avoid thinking about just how nice he was, she slid the bag with his purchases toward him and gave him the credit card slip. He signed it and gave it back to her.
“How would you like to go to happy hour at Danica’s with me?”
After talking about her parents and missing them like crazy, she could use more than just an hour of happiness. She would love to be able to have a lifetime of that feeling.
It wasn’t that she was unhappy, because she wasn’t, but there were times when she wondered if maybe there was more out there for her than what was currently in her life. Perhaps she was shortchanging herself on some things. What those things were, she had no idea.
“I would love to go but good luck getting a table at Danica’s. They have the best hot wings and are always crowded, especially for happy hour. I think the entire island heads over there at five.”
“Since I know you don’t close your shop until five, how about if we meet over there at five-thirty? I guarantee we’ll have a place to sit.”
“Um, sounds like you might have connections, David Holloway.”
“We’ll see.” He took the bag and turned to leave, and just like before, she watched his movements until he was no longer in sight.
* * *
“Wow. You do have connections, don’t you?” Swan said, sliding into a stool at the bar. “I’ve been here a number of times and the best seat I’ve ever gotten is at one of those tables outside.”
Flipper smiled. Like at Summer Moon, he’d arrived early and was waiting for her. He liked seeing her stroll down the sidewalk looking as beautiful as ever.
Today she was wearing a pair of shorts and a pretty top. Her legs were long and shapely and he could imagine them wrapped around him while...
Whoa, he didn’t need to go there. Ever since that kiss, he’d been trying not to go there—no matter how tempted he was to do so. Quickly, he changed the direction of his thoughts.
“I know Danica personally,” he said, trying hard to keep his naughty thoughts in check.
She lifted a brow. “Really? How?”
There was no way he would tell her the whole story. Danica was the godmother of former SEAL team member Nick Stover. Nick had given up being a SEAL a few years ago to take a job with Homeland Security after his wife had triplets. Instead of the whole history, Flipper gave her a modified version. “Her godson and I used to work together.”
“Oh.” The bartender chose that moment to take their drink order.
“I know you used to be in the military at one point but what do you do now?” she asked once the bartender had walked away.
Flipper had expected that question sooner or later and had a prepared answer. “I travel a lot and my job deals with ocean marine work. I guess you can say I’m a specialist in that area.”
“Sounds interesting.”
He chuckled. “Trust me, it is.”
The bartender set their beers in front of them along with a huge plate of hot wings. They dug in.
“Your assistant at the store seems nice,” Flipper commented. “I hope she didn’t get offended when I asked specifically for you.”
“No, very little offends Jamila, trust me.”
“You’ve known her a long time?”
If his question seemed odd, she didn’t mention it. “We met a couple of years ago when she moved to the island. The first time she came into my shop she nearly bought out the place. Like you, she has a huge family living up north and wanted to buy holiday gifts for everyone. Thanks to her, I made my month’s quota in that one day. She earned a friend for life.”
Flipper took a long swig of his beer. What Swan had just told him was interesting. Based on the naval intelligence report he’d read, Jamila didn’t have any family. No parents, siblings, aunts, uncles or cousins. She’d been adopted and her adopted parents had been killed in a car accident in her last year of high school. And they hadn’t lived in the north but out west in California.
Why had Jamila lied?
“So you hired her that day?” he asked, grinning, trying to make a joke of what she’d told him.
“No,
