again that this was just dinner at a church function, not a first date. She could be honest with Alec and get it all out there, since nothing would come of this once they walked out the door.
“Yes, I have a child,” she finally said. “Gabby. She’s four years old and...special. My parents take care of her when I’m working or out doing things like this.”
He took a quick sip of his tea and glanced back over at her. “If she’s as cute as you, I’d like to meet her.”
Marla almost choked on her chicken spaghetti. “What?”
“Don’t look so surprised, Cupcake Girl. I like children. I actually used to be one.”
Marla’s shock turned to admiration. Alec made her laugh. That was certainly new and refreshing. But she couldn’t let him near Gabby. So she pretended in order to hide the clop, clop of her beating heart. “I’m thinking you might still be one, at that.”
He smiled and winked at her. “Want me to show you my spaghetti face?”
He moved to go for a handful of spaghetti, but she stopped him by grapping his wrist. “Don’t you dare. I believe you.”
But she couldn’t believe he wanted to meet Gabby. He was obviously just being polite. Her daughter was adorable and well-loved, so Marla could handle most men walking away, but she wasn’t ready to subject Gabby to anything too sudden, either.
While hearing this from Alec made her want to grab him and hug him, she had to push away that notion for Gabby’s sake. Her daughter was still too fragile for a new man in her mother’s life. Or in her life.
He leaned close, his eyes going smoky amber. “Well then, if you believe I’m still a kid at heart, can you believe that not all warriors are hard-core and full of rage?”
She swallowed and took a breath. “I’d like to believe that, but this is the part where most men get up and never come back.”
He chuckled and pointed to his face. “This and my bad leg are usually the reasons most women never give me a second glance.”
She took a sip of her tea. “I’m not good at believing things I can’t trust. It’s one of my biggest flaws.”
“You can count on the truth from me,” he said, his gaze holding her with a warm regard. “I’m my own man, and while I still have scars, I’m healing each and every day—even on my worst days. I just want the rest of the world to give me a chance. I want you to give me a chance.”
Still not sure, Marla lowered her head and whispered, “What kind of chance?”
He held his hands up in surrender. “Just to be your friend, okay? So I can get free cupcakes and big slices of wedding cake, of course.”
After that remark, he grabbed his fork and started eating his meal, his golden eyes twinkling.
Marla didn’t know what to say to that eloquent declaration. She toyed with her tea glass and wondered what to do. Should she take a chance? Should she give Alec a chance—as a friend at least? He’d been nothing but kind to her, and he sure didn’t fit the wounded-warrior stereotype, even with his visible scars still fresh. Maybe she should reach out to him—to help him on those worst days he’d mentioned.
Dear Lord, don’t let me mess this up. She couldn’t rush headlong into anything. She wasn’t ready for that. But she could get to know him better, a little bit at a time. A friendship never hurt anyone. He was nice and he was working hard for a good cause. Wasn’t that the best kind of friend to have?
“I’m willing to give you a chance, yes. But I need something from you in return.”
“Name it.”
“I need you to be patient while we become friends. I’m a widow with a little girl. We only just met, so I need to get to know you a little better before I can let you meet Gabby. I have to take things slow and be very sure of what I’m doing. She’s been through a lot and...she’s sometimes afraid of strangers.”
He leaned back in his chair and studied her for what seemed like a long time. “I’m so sorry to hear you’re a widow. Sorry for your loss, but happy to get to know you.” Then he nodded. “No hurry. I’m not ready to dive right in to anything else, either. I’ve got all the time in the world, Marla. For you and especially for Gabby.”
He lifted up the Give Chocolate a Chance cupcake by his plate. “Even your cupcake seems to be in on this little discussion. Everything in life involves either taking a chance or relying on our faith to see us through. As Preacher would say, it’s the excitement of what’s next that keeps us alive.”
“Are you excited about...me?” she asked, too caught up in his words to care. “I mean about making a new friend?”
“I sure am. My new best friend is an amazing cook.”
Then he bit into his cupcake and sent her a chocolate-covered smile that melted her heart.
Two days later, Alec sat in his office inside the Caldwell house and finished up the last tasks of a long tempting spring day. Taking in the dark teakwood cabinets and matching desk, he reminded himself that this house had once belonged to his parents and their parents before them. His father had spent his childhood here and after his death, Vivian and Alec had stayed here with Grandfather.
Alec remembered his mother and grandfather had both grieved the loss of his dad, to the point that Alec was neglected and left to his own devices. But Aunt Hattie had taken charge and hired a housekeeper to cook and clean and help look after Alec. Because during some of those early days, his mother had refused to get out of bed.
He didn’t like these memories, so he brought his mind back to the here and now.
The bay window off to the left gave him a perfect view of the big lake that fed into the Millbrook River. The river flowed south all the way into Escambia Bay and the Gulf of Mexico. Lots of fishermen and tourists came through here: some on their way home from having fun on the bay and some heading out to explore the balmy waters that poured out into the ocean.
But here, on the big oval lake that sat in the center of town, life moved at a slower current. The old umbrella-shaped live oaks and thick-trunked, waxy-leafed magnolia trees that circled the water made a nice shade for the blossoming hot pink azaleas and the thick clusters of gardenia bushes and hydrangeas that colored the manicured grass. White benches sat underneath the trees and along the trails that wound around the water. Ducks and geese quacked and cackled down near the lush orange and white daylilies growing near the shoreline. Occasionally out by the long pier, a fat mullet or a sleek catfish would jump up and make a lone splash in the dark water.
Alec got up and went to stand at the window—something he did on a regular basis every day since he’d come home. His loyal border collie, Angus, jumped up from his spot on the burgundy-colored Aubusson area rug and came to nuzzle Alec’s hand. He patted the shaggy dog’s head and nodded. “Okay, okay. I know it’s time for our walk. Give me a few more minutes.”
They had to wait until the sun began to set. His scar didn’t stand out as much in the shadows of dusk.
Watching
