“Maybe it’s time you discussed your feelings about what happened with someone. Until you forgive them and let go of the past, you’ll never be able to move on with your life.”
“Not going to happen,” Bobby insisted. He’d fry in hell first.
“The only person you’re hurting is yourself,” she said softly.
Bobby sighed. That was probably true enough. He certainly hadn’t seen much evidence that Ann-Marie and Lonnie were suffering any pangs of guilt over what they’d done. The only place in town they avoided was the yacht center. Other than that, they paraded around town hand in hand, flaunting the fact that they were madly in love and seemingly oblivious to the fact that they’d betrayed Bobby to be together.
Their children were less circumspect. They turned up on the docks with their friends and invaded the kitchen for snacks whenever they could get away with it. No matter how many times Bobby told Tommy that his restaurant kitchen was off-limits to him and his friends, Daisy’s adopted son continued to treat it as if it contained his own personal stash of treats. Ann-Marie’s boy, J.C., was usually among the interlopers.
Even so, the yacht center and restaurant were still about the only places left where Bobby felt reasonably safe from unexpected encounters with the two people responsible for breaking his heart. Not that he intended to admit any of that to Anna-Louise. He just sat there stonily, enduring her expectant stare.
Richard finally took pity on him and spoke to his wife. “Hon, maybe you shouldn’t push this. Besides, I’m not sure we’re entitled to know why Bobby doesn’t want to work with Jenna. It’s his project and his money.”
“I thought he might feel better if he made a confession about his real reasons for trying to avoid working with her,” Anna-Louise said unrepentantly.
“Wrong church,” Richard pointed out. “He needs a priest for that.”
“I can listen,” Anna-Louise protested. “And offer comfort and forgiveness. The mechanics might be different, but the principle’s the same no matter which church I belong to.”
Bobby chuckled despite himself. “Sorry, Anna-Louise. I’m not in need of either one. I’m perfectly comfortable with my decision. The only thing I regret is that it didn’t work. The woman’s stubborn as a mule.” Spencers knew all about stubbornness, it didn’t take much for them to recognize it in others. And Jenna had it in spades.
The pastor’s eyes brightened. “Then she is coming back? Good! I can hardly wait to meet her. Daisy and I will host a little get-together so she can get acquainted with a few people.”
Richard groaned. “You just want a chance to cross-examine her and see how she measures up as a candidate for Bobby’s love life.”
“I most certainly do not,” Anna-Louise said indignantly. “I’m perfectly content to leave the matchmaking to King. Although the way I hear it, Jenna does look an awful lot like Ann-Marie. Is that so, Bobby?”
The observation seemed to suck the breath right out of him. He hadn’t considered it consciously before, but it was true. Jenna did bear a remarkable resemblance to the woman who had broken his heart and humiliated him in the process. Maybe that was why he’d reacted so violently the first time he’d seen her. Maybe it had nothing to do with the commotion on his lawn at all.
“I refuse to answer,” he said blandly.
“Which must mean she does,” Anna-Louise said complacently. “King is going to be in hog heaven when he hears that little tidbit.”
“Not an especially reassuring thought,” Bobby noted. He glanced hopefully at Richard. “Can you stop this?”
“Not a chance. My wife is an independent woman. So is your sister. You don’t have a prayer, my friend.”
Bobby scowled at Anna-Louise. “I could pray about this, couldn’t I? And a benevolent God would take pity on me, right?”
She grinned. “Maybe. Maybe not. It all depends on what He has in mind for you. He might have sent Jenna down here in the first place just to shake you out of the doldrums.”
“If He did, it was a mean trick,” Bobby retorted.
“No, in that case, it was a divine plan,” she countered. “Pay attention to it.”
Bobby shot a commiserating look at Richard. “And you live with this kind of reasoning all the time? I feel for you.”
Richard chuckled and put an arm around his wife’s waist as he steered her toward the door. “It has its compensations,” he said. “And since we’re already married, she doesn’t have to meddle in my love life.”
Bobby laughed as he watched them leave, but as soon as they were out of sight, his expression sobered. For all of his tart comments, he envied what they had. He truly did.
He just wasn’t sure he was ready to take the risks involved in trying to find something like it for himself. And even if he were, Jenna Kennedy would be the last person on earth he’d choose. He liked serenity, and the way he felt around her was anything but serene.
As he always did when he was stressed, Bobby retreated to the kitchen at the yacht center. The dinner rush was only an hour away, and he’d been in the middle of preparations when Richard had come by, ostensibly to get information about the stolen carousel horse. Since he’d come with Anna-Louise in tow, Bobby was a little suspicious of his real motives. Precious little of their time together had been spent talking about the theft. Once the conversation had veered off-course to the topic of Jenna, it had never gotten back on track again.
As he walked into the kitchen, he found the air thick with the spicy scent of steamed shrimp and crabs. The pungent aroma of garlic for the night’s scampi special added to his sense of well-being. Based on the aromas alone, he was reassured that the food tonight would be incredible.
This was his milieu. There was nothing he liked better than experimenting with ingredients, adding a dash of this herb or a sprinkling of that one to bring out the flavor of a dish in a whole new way.
For a man who liked his life to be peaceful and calm, the commotion of a restaurant kitchen just before the crowds descended should have been disconcerting, but it suited him. He liked the bustle, the camaraderie, even the temperamental outbursts of his pastry chef, who was a perfectionist and tolerated nothing less from anyone coming into contact with the pies and cakes and light-as-air confections he created. The concept of great meals being orchestrated out of confusion was satisfying to him.
Bobby moved from counter to gleaming counter, from oven to oven, to check on the progress of the night’s specials. Everything looked as delicious as it smelled. He clapped his hands and caught everyone’s attention.
“We’re booked to capacity tonight,” he announced. “Let’s everybody stay calm and focused and make this a memorable evening all the way around.”
Suddenly the eyes that had been trained on him shifted their focus at the sound of a door opening.
“So, this is where you spend your time when you’re not trying to bribe people into leaving town,” a honeyed voice said.
He’d discovered all too recently that only one person had a voice like that, only one had the capacity to make his blood
