She giggled a little, feeling like she was thirteen again and standing by the lockers in front of the cutest boy in school. Get it together, Cate. He’s not interested in you, anyway. You’re not nearly pretty enough for him. Not without all the expensive jewelry and clothes that Rick said made you an “eight” when you were naturally just a “six.”
Tack reached behind her to get a plate, and his strong arm brushed her elbow. She was hyperaware of every movement he made. She realized, suddenly, she was still holding her son’s half-filled plate, watching Tack reach for scalloped potatoes. She decided to leave the broccoli and opted for raw carrots instead, then headed back with a cup of juice to the table, where she plunked the plate in front of her little boy. He went for the chicken fingers first, naturally, and happily chomped his food while she turned back to the buffet. Deliberately, she started on the opposite side as far from Tack as she could get, though it wasn’t long before he was again by her side.
“What do you recommend?” he asked her, dark eyes studying her. Her mouth went a little dry beneath the intensity of his gaze.
“Everything is good,” she said. “But you should try the conch chowder. It’s the island specialty.” She nodded toward the soup bowl on the other side of the glass-partitioned buffet. She thought it would be better if she could move him from her side, but when he walked around, she realized now, he was right in front of her, glass buffet or not, and he was watching her even as he ladled soup into a small bowl. If he was going to study her like that, she might not be able to eat. Her once growling stomach now exploded into a riot of nerves. Why did the man make her so nervous?
She managed to keep her eyes on the broiled fish she scooped onto her plate, then she moved on to the steamed veggies. He watched her every move. She made the mistake of glancing up at him once, and they made eye contact. She held his gaze for a beat too long, unable to break free. It had been so long since a man had been this focused on her.
Not since Rick, she thought.
She glanced down at her own frumpy cutoffs, her faded T-shirt and flip-flops. She wasn’t even wearing any makeup, and she’d swept up her hair into a messy, careless knot at her nape. She had no idea why Tack studied her like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. It made her uneasy.
She hurriedly finished filling her plate and then scurried it back to her son’s table. The faster I eat, the faster I can get away from that man.
Cate sat and Tack followed, slipping into the chair opposite her. His shoulders were enormous, she decided, like a well-muscled wall, sitting in front of her. It was going to take effort to eat with this hulking man sitting at the table.
Avery just grinned at the stranger. “Hi! I’m Avery,” he said, beaming. The boy wasn’t the least bit shy. Raised in a resort, he was more than used to strangers. Mark had joked that they ought to put the boy out in the lobby as a concierge.
“Hi, Avery. I’m Tack.”
“Nice to meet you,” the precocious four-year-old said. He grinned. “You’ve got lots of muscles. Are you Captain America?”
“Avery,” Cate said reprovingly, feeling the blush of embarrassment creep up her neck. The air-conditioning suddenly seemed a little too weak in the room. Leave it to a preschooler to say exactly what’s on his mind.
“He’s in a superhero phase,” she said, apologetically.
“I’m not Captain America,” Tack said, trying to sound serious. “But I used to be a marine, actually. First Lieutenant Thomas Reeves, at your service. I might know a thing or two about saving the day.”
“I knew it! You are a superhero! Can you fly?”
“Oh, now you’ve started it,” Cate said, and Tack chuckled a little.
Over Tack’s shoulder, Cate saw Carol peek out from the door to the kitchen. The woman was spying! When she was caught, she gave Cate a huge thumbs-up, and that’s when Cate knew somehow that this was all Carol’s doing. It would be just like her to try to set her up on some kind of date. Carol was under the misguided impression that Cate was lonely, that she needed a man’s company. Cate had sworn off men. She didn’t trust herself to pick a good one, and she’d never, ever be beholden to one again.
Tack took a sip of soup and nodded his appreciation at the taste of the conch chowder.
“My daddy can fly,” Avery said suddenly. “He’s an angel in heaven.”
Cate nearly spit out her food. Tack coughed, as if the soup had gone down the wrong way. He coughed louder, face turning red as he gave his chest a hard pat.
“Is that right?” he managed to say, recovering.
Now Cate really wanted to be anywhere but here. Carol was still spying, and she sent her what she hoped was a look of stern disapproval.
“I don’t have a dad. Do you want to be my dad?” Avery asked.
“Avery! That’s not...” Cate wanted the ground to open her up and swallow her whole.
Tack laughed a little. “Don’t worry. It’s okay. Well, how about we see first if we can get through dinner, all right, champ?”
Cate had never felt more embarrassed in her whole life. The table sunk into silence then, the only sound the clink of Tack’s spoon on his soup bowl. Tack seemed to be preoccupied, no doubt thinking she was the most desperate woman on earth. She’d not put Avery up to that, though, she swore.
That’s when Cate saw Carol bustle out of the kitchen, seeming determined.
Oh, no. This was not going to be good.
“Everything all right here?” Carol said brightly. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No, we’re fine.” Cate wanted Carol to go away. Besides, this was a buffet, not table-side service.
“So, Mr. Reeves, I know it’s your first trip to St. Anthony’s. Do you snorkel?” She barreled on, not picking up on the cue from Tack’s now-somber face that he probably wasn’t interested in any tour. He looked like a man who wanted to escape. Not that Cate blamed him. Kids at all were a nonstarter for most men, but kids talking about dead fathers and wanting new dads were probably more serious deal breakers.
“Snorkel?” Tack looked momentarily taken aback.
Cate knew exactly what Carol was doing. She was talking about the boat tour around the island that Cate led every morning around ten.
“I’m sure Mr. Reeves has other things to do with his first morning on vacation,” Cate said.
Tack studied her. “Well, I...”
“Cate gives the best tours, and she knows the best snorkeling spots. She leads a group every morning...”
Cate mentally shook her head. No, Carol. No! She tried very hard to telepathically tell her friend to stop what she was doing. The last thing she needed was Tack on board her boat at nine in the morning.
“I love to snorkel. Sounds like fun.” Tack stared at Cate as he said that. Avery happily chomped his chicken tender and Carol just beamed, like she’d won a prize at the state fair. Oh, she’d won a prize, but it wasn’t
