who tended to flock around professional athletes. Liz was real.
Still, he couldn’t allow a momentary attraction to a woman to sway him into making a decision that was so obviously all wrong. He’d have a nice dinner, get a good night’s sleep, meet with the high school principal and then go on his way.
Satisfied with his plan, he checked the directions and headed toward The Inn at Eagle Point. As he drove along the winding road, he couldn’t help noticing the nearby bay, and once more Liz’s mention of Thomas O’Brien’s passion for that body of water slipped past his defenses. He pieced her words together with what little his mother had told him over the years and wondered what it must be like to be so idealistic that a cause mattered more than people, more than a son. If he left, he’d never know the answer to that.
“Stop it!” he muttered, as emphatic with himself as Liz had been with Archie earlier. The decision was made.
Somehow, though, it didn’t seem quite as valid as when he’d first reached it.
* * *
When Liz got home that night, Archie, Sasha and Dominique met her at the door of her little bungalow across the street from Dogwood Hill. The two terrier mixes that she’d rescued soon after coming to Chesapeake Shores might be small compared to Archie, but there was little question about who the alpha dogs were in her home. Girls ruled! After a few failed attempts to herd them, Archie had acquiesced to their dominance.
Now he sat quietly by and waited for his turn to get Liz’s attention. Then all three dogs trailed her into the kitchen, where her imperial majesty, a one-eared Siamese known as Anastasia, regarded them all with a superior look as she sat beside her kitty dish awaiting dinner. When Liz once again tried a less-expensive brand of cat food, Anastasia regarded her with an accusing look and turned up her nose.
“I don’t even know why I try,” Liz grumbled. “Other than the fact that this other stuff is going to bankrupt me.” Even so, she dumped the rejected food in the garbage and replaced it with the cat’s preferred brand.
As she looked around her small, but nicely updated kitchen, the mismatched group of strays brought a smile to Liz’s lips.
“Bree’s wrong,” she told them emphatically as she doled out more hugs and scratches behind the ears, then dished up dinner for the dogs. “You guys are all the companionship I need.”
But even as she said the words, an image of Aidan Mitchell crept in to make her blood pump just a little faster. And that was exactly why she had to stay far, far away from him.
Aidan was staring out the window of the restaurant at The Inn at Eagle Point with its unobstructed view of the bay, nursing his second cup of coffee after a surprisingly excellent breakfast, when a shadow loomed over the table. He looked up to find a man standing there, hand outstretched, a welcoming expression on his face.
“Mick O’Brien, son. And you’re Aidan Mitchell,” he said confidently. “Welcome to Chesapeake Shores.” Without asking, he pulled out a chair and sat. “I’ve been expecting your call since yesterday.”
For an instant Aidan couldn’t find his voice. This man was his uncle! He had absolutely no experience with extended family beyond his maternal grandparents, and no experience at all when it came to his paternal family. Obviously his decision to get out of town without crossing paths with any O’Briens hadn’t taken into account Mick O’Brien’s determination to court him for this job. Aidan wasn’t sure what his real role had been in the search for a new coach, but he’d been aggressive once Aidan had submitted his application.
When Aidan had called the school yesterday to confirm the appointment with the principal for this morning, he’d been told yet again how eager everyone—especially the town’s founder—was to close the deal. The enthusiasm had been rewarding, but disconcerting given his determination to leave without signing on for the job.
Mick glanced around for a waiter, then stood up and grabbed a cup from a neighboring table and poured himself some coffee from the pot the waiter had left earlier. As he stirred in some sugar, Aidan surreptitiously studied him, wondering how much Mick might resemble his brother and trying to decide if he saw anything of himself in the man.
After years of wondering and getting only evasive answers from his mother when it came to his father’s identity, Aidan had finally found the O’Brien name when he’d come across his birth certificate while cleaning out his mother’s dresser after her death last summer. There were a couple of clippings about Chesapeake Shores and the bay preservation foundation, as well.
Over the years he’d been told that his father had been a good man who had important things to accomplish. His mother had never mentioned what those things might be. Those clippings she’d tucked away were the first clues he’d had.
Nor had she ever hinted that they’d parted as anything other than friends. To Aidan’s knowledge his father had never contributed a dime to his support. In fact, given his mother’s independent streak and a few indiscreet comments from his grandparents about her pride, he’d concluded that she’d never even told him about the pregnancy. Surely, though, if he’d been such a paragon, Thomas O’Brien must have suspected. Then again, Aidan had known his share of men who were capable of being oblivious to anything that didn’t fit conveniently into their plans.
So even though Anna Mitchell had tried to impart an image of a mysterious but kindly individual, resentments had simmered inside Aidan. He’d grown up wondering why he and his mom hadn’t been more important than some idealistic goal in his dad’s life. And, since his mother had never had another serious relationship to his knowledge, he had to wonder about the man who’d meant so much to her that she’d never moved on.
“You okay?” Mick asked, regarding him with concern. “You look a little pale. You’re not coming down with something, are you? We have a real good doctor here in town. I can take you by his office if you want to be checked out.”
Aidan quickly shook his head. “No, sorry. I’m fine. You just caught me by surprise. I spent yesterday getting to know the town. I gave the principal at the school a call late in the day to confirm our appointment for this morning. He must have told you I was here.”
Mick grinned. “Not necessary. There aren’t a lot of secrets in Chesapeake Shores and you’re big news. I knew five minutes after you drove into town.” He shrugged. “Besides, my daughter Jess owns this place. She gave me a call right after you checked in. I would have popped in right then, but she told me you seemed a little distracted and to give you time to relax. For once, I listened to her—and my wife—and didn’t come barging right over. To tell you the truth, Megan—that’s my wife—is usually right about these things, though if you tell her I said that, I’ll deny it.”
Aidan recalled the friendly woman at the desk. So, that had to be Jess, another O’Brien, a cousin apparently.
Before Aidan could respond, Mick glanced pointedly at his empty plate. “If you’re ready to go now, I’ll drive you over to the high school. We’re all anxious to get the ball rolling, get a contract nailed down. Then I can show you a couple of places around town that are for sale. There’s not much to rent. Buying makes more sense, anyway.”
Aidan couldn’t help wondering if Mick was such a successful architect and developer because he was part bulldozer. “There’s no offer on the table, and I haven’t agreed
