wasn’t the first comment of that type she’d made since arriving to work. Her boyfriend had come to town a couple of days ago with the cruise ship, right? So what was going on?
Swan decided not to ask. She didn’t want to hear another sad story about a man that would ruin her date tonight with David. It was a date she was definitely looking forward to. She figured going out to dinner with him wouldn’t be risky as long as she kept things in perspective.
She knew what could happen if she let her guard down when it came to a man.
* * *
Flipper deliberately arrived at Summer Moon early so he could see when Swan arrived. His stomach felt floaty the moment she turned the corner from the street where she lived.
Be still, my...everything.
She was wearing a printed sundress and a pair of high-heeled sandals, but what caught his attention—and was still holding it tight—were her long shapely legs that seemed to go on forever. He would love to see where they stopped under that dress. He forced that thought to the back of his mind.
But the closer she got, the more that thought wiggled back to the forefront. He shouldn’t let it. He was on assignment and she was the subject of an investigation. He shouldn’t see her as temptation. Letting his guard down around her could be a dangerous and costly mistake. He had to keep his head screwed on straight, no matter how innocent she seemed and how beautiful she was, and she was definitely one gorgeous woman.
Men, even some with female companions, were giving Swan second looks, and Flipper tried to downplay his anger. He had no right to be upset about other men checking her out when he was checking her out himself. The best thing to do to control his crazy reaction was to stop looking at her, so he glanced down at his bottle of beer and thought about the reports he’d finished reading a short while ago on her employee and her tenant.
Jamila Fairchild had worked for Swan for a year. He knew all about her former job as a captain of a day cruise ship, why she’d gotten fired and her litigation against not only her former employer but also the man who’d caused the ruckus in the first place. Naval intelligence hadn’t left any stone unturned in Ms. Fairchild’s report and she’d come up clean. Flipper would verify that she was.
Then there was Rafe Duggers, the tattoo artist. Although his parlor was located inside Swan’s shop, there was a back door for his customers to use without entering through the jewelry shop. Flipper hadn’t gotten a chance to look around the tattoo parlor and he intended to do another visit in a few days. Rafe was too squeaky-clean to be true.
No wonder naval intelligence was trying to point the finger at Swan. After all, it was her shop and they had somehow traced activity as originating there. But how? When? He hadn’t found anything.
He had searched Swan’s office, the small kitchen in the back, the bathrooms and another room that she used as a workshop where she made her jewelry. He’d come up with nothing, even after checking out her computer. So what were the grounds for accusing her?
Flipper’s mind flicked back to Swan and he stood when the waiter escorted her to his table. “Hello, Swan. You look nice.”
“Thanks and so do you. I was trying to be early and you still beat me here,” she said, sitting down across from him.
“I was thirsty,” he said, sitting back down and indicating the beer. Now that she was here and sitting directly across from him, he was more than thirsty. If he wasn’t careful, he could have a full-fledged attack of desire. She had a pair of beautiful shoulders and her skin appeared soft and smooth to the touch.
Then his mind drifted to wanting her and he quickly snatched it back. “You walked here. Does that mean you live close by?” he asked, deciding it was best to keep the conversation moving.
“Yes, not too far,” she said. He knew she was deliberately being evasive.
The waiter handed him another beer and gave them both menus. “What would like to drink, miss?” the waiter asked her.
“A glass of Moscato please.”
When the waiter left, she glanced over at Flipper before picking up her menu. “You’re not working so hard that you’re not enjoying the Keys, are you?”
“I’m doing a bit of both. I admit the ocean is beautiful tonight.”
She smiled. “I think it’s beautiful every night.”
He nodded as he took another sip of his beer, straight from the bottle. “So are you a native or a transplant?”
“A native. I was born and raised right here on the island in the same house I live in now. My mother never made it to the hospital before I was born.”
He raised a brow. “She didn’t?”
“No. Mom came from a part of Jamaica where the belief was that when it comes to delivering a baby, a midwife is better than a medical doctor. My father promised to find her a midwife here. Otherwise she would have insisted that I be born in Jamaica and he didn’t want that. He wanted me born in America.”
“So he was able to find a midwife?”
“Yes, but I was born a few weeks early and the midwife wasn’t here.”
“So who delivered you?”
“My dad, with the help of three of his closest military friends. They were stationed at the base here and were visiting, watching a football game at the time. Needless to say, over the years I’ve gotten four different versions of what happened that night. My mother didn’t remember a thing other than it took four men to deliver me. Although Godpop 1 claims my father passed out trying to cut the umbilical cord.”
Flipper laughed. He then asked, “Godpop 1?”
“Yes, my father’s three closest friends, the ones who assisted that night, became my godfathers. That’s how I distinguish them. Godpop 1, Godpop 2 and Godpop 3.”
Flipper nodded. No wonder the three men felt such strong ties to her. “You’re lucky to have three godfathers. I don’t have a one.”
“Yes, I’m lucky,” she said, after the waiter set the glass of wine in front of her. “They were my and Mom’s rocks after we lost Dad, especially when my grandparents showed up at the funeral trying to cause problems.”
Then, as if she realized she might have shared too much, she asked, “So what do you plan to order?”
* * *
Swan thought David had picked the right place for them to have dinner. When he asked for recommendations on what to order, she suggested Summer Moon’s crab cakes and, as usual, they were delicious. The mango salad was superb, and after dinner they enjoyed listening to the live band.
When the band played their last song, she glanced over at David to discover him staring at her. The intensity in his gaze nearly scorched her and she took a sip of her wine. “Thanks for dinner, David.”
“Thank you for accepting my invitation. The place is about to close. Are you ready to go?” he asked her.
“Yes.” Because she knew he would suggest that he walk her home, she added, “If you
