amplified the bushy eyebrows she’d inherited. Before college she’d switched to contacts and set up a standing appointment for an eyebrow wax. But she never quite managed the art of makeup, or fashion, for that matter. The few dates she’d gone on had been with boys as nerdy and driven scholastically as she was.
In comparison to them, Dylan was in a whole different league. One she couldn’t hope to play in.
Except he’d specifically invited her to see him again, socially. Which was terrifying. Not because he was scary in and of himself—after her initial bout of nerves had worn off, he’d been surprisingly easy to be around. Maybe that was why the animals liked him so much. But he’d be bringing other people, strangers, and this time she wouldn’t have work to talk about. She’d have to make actual conversation. Small talk. With people she didn’t know.
Why had she agreed to this?
Oh, yeah, because she didn’t have a choice. She certainly hadn’t made any inroads on her own. Having someone like Dylan along to smooth the way was her best chance. It was pretty ironic, really. She was the one who had grown up here. She should be the one helping him get to know people, not the other way around. But maybe it was best this way. Having him along would mean she could ease past that “Don’t I know you?” stage that she kept getting stuck in. It seemed she was always on the edges of people’s memories, enough to look familiar but not enough for them to actually remember who she was. And once they were reminded that she was actually an island native they invariably felt bad for not remembering her. Not exactly the best way to start a new friendship.
But Dylan’s plan was going to work. It had to. She couldn’t risk losing her job over it. She’d be humiliated, and her father would be so disappointed. How many times had he told her that she’d have to work extra hard to prove herself? Aside from fighting any suggestions of nepotism, she was a woman in what had traditionally been a man’s job. The old-boy network hadn’t died out yet and he’d warned her she’d have to prove herself every step of the way. And she had. No way was she going to let a little shyness keep her from doing what she’d always wanted to do. The woods and waterways of Florida were home to her, and she’d sworn to protect them. She just hadn’t realized that the hardest part of the job wouldn’t be the long hours, dangerous animals or ravenous insects. Somehow, in her rush to be the best, she’d missed the memo about the importance of community relations. At least she had someone on her side now.
And as crazy as it was, she was kind of looking forward to having dinner with him. Not that she expected anything from him other than moral support and some social introductions. But it would be nice if they could form a kind of friendship, as unlikely as that seemed, given how different their personalities were. But they both were dedicated to the wildlife of the area—maybe that would be enough?
More intimidating was the thought of the friends he was bringing. If this was any other kind of challenge, she’d know how to prepare, but she couldn’t exactly study up on small talk. Could she? There probably wasn’t an official guidebook, but the internet was a big place, and there might be something there that would help. Heck, if she could learn how to change her own oil from a YouTube video, anything was possible.
The driveway of her apartment building came into view, and she parked in front of her tiny unit. Grabbing her gear, she purposely avoided looking at the wilting plant in front of her door. An impulse buy, it was now a testament to her lack of a green thumb. Half the time she forgot to feed herself; a plant didn’t stand a chance. Her cat, on the other hand, was in no danger of neglect, thanks to his in-your-face style of negotiation. She could hear him now, meowing impatiently as she unlocked and opened the door.
The angry meows became rumbling purrs as the fat orange feline wound his round body through her legs, greeting her the same way he did every evening. Careful not to trip over him, she made her way to the kitchen to boot up her laptop and feed her hungry pet. “Don’t worry, Cheesy, I’m getting it. It’s not like you couldn’t stand to miss a meal.”
He meowed in protest, no doubt offended at the suggestion he could stand to lose a pound or ten. She really should put him on a diet. But not tonight. She’d add feline obesity to her list of things to look up online. For now she gave him fresh water and a small can of wet food, his nightly treat.
Cat duties finished, she slid onto a stool at the breakfast bar and pulled up a web browser. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard—was she really going to do this?
Yes.
Refusing to hesitate anymore, she typed “how to make a good first impression” into the search box and hit Enter.
Dylan checked the dashboard clock as he pulled his truck into one of the few vacant spots in front of Pete’s Crab Shack. He was early and would have been earlier if he hadn’t changed shirts three times before leaving the house. Since moving to Paradise, he’d happily let his wardrobe drift from business button-downs to beach casual, the laid-back dress code being one of the better perks of his job. But tonight his ingrained preference for comfort had been overridden by his desire to make a good impression, costing him both time and a good chunk of his masculine pride. The idea of getting “dressed up” had always seemed fussy to his ranch-raised way of thinking, but having dinner with Sam was enough of an occasion that he’d dug out a collared shirt from the back of his closet. He’d even ironed it, much to the amusement of the neighbor he’d had to borrow the iron from.
Even still, he seemed to have arrived before Sam and Dani. Hopefully, the two women would hit it off—he wanted Sam to feel comfortable in Paradise for reasons he wasn’t going to begin to contemplate. Dani Post, like Sam, was a Paradise native, but there the similarities ended. Unlike Sam, Dani was outgoing and bold, characteristics that served her well in the courtroom. As a public defender, she had a soft spot for anyone she considered the underdog, and was on the board of pretty much every charity in town. And with her contacts she was the perfect person to help Sam. He’d first met her at a fund-raiser for a new fox enclosure at the rehab center, and they’d quickly become friends. Once or twice, he’d considered asking her out, but they didn’t have that kind of chemistry and they both knew it.
A chime at his hip alerted him to an incoming call. Climbing out of the truck, he headed for the entrance as he answered. “Hello?”
“Hey, Dylan. It’s Dani. I’m afraid I’ve got to back out of dinner. Mollie and Noah have dinner reservations to celebrate her newest gallery show and their babysitter called in sick.”
Dani’s sister, Mollie, was a longtime volunteer at the rehab center and a gifted wildlife photographer. She’d recently married a sculptor from Atlanta and adopted his young son. Together they had a great little family, but for a pair of newlyweds they didn’t get much alone time. “No problem. I know when I’m outclassed. I can’t compete with your nephew.”
“Well, he is a lot cuter than you. But I still feel bad for ditching you.”
“You should. Now I’m going to have to dine all by my lonesome with a beautiful woman. How will I ever survive such a fate?”
Dani chuckled at his sarcasm. “Good point. My conscience is clear. But do give her my number, and tell her that I’m happy to help however I can.”
He’d made it to the front entrance and could see Sam’s truck pulling into the parking lot a few rows back. “I will, don’t worry. You’re not totally off the hook. But she’s here now, so let me go.”
Hanging up, he watched Sam hop down from her shiny pickup with the grace of a queen stepping down from
