If I Didn't Know Better Read online

  Clearing her throat, she took the conversation back to a lighter level. "So if you aren't a museum kind of guy, what kind of guy are you?"

  "I like to play sports: baseball, football, basketball, soccer, golf, occasionally tennis."

  "That's a lot of sports."

  "I like to compete, challenge myself. I don't know what I'll be up to playing in the future though, maybe miniature golf."

  "I have a feeling you'll conquer your weakness."

  "We'll see. What about you, Mia? What do you do besides art?"

  "Well, I don't do sports. At least, not if I can help it."

  "Never? Not even when you were a kid?"

  "I couldn't when I was really young. My sister and I were born premature. And while she didn't have any health issues, I had respiratory problems for a long time. I got pneumonia when I was seven, and I almost died. After that, my mom tried to put me in a bubble. It took years for her to realize that I had fully recovered and my health had improved."

  "I'm glad to hear you're okay now."

  "I'm perfect. But during all those years in the bubble, I did a lot of reading and painting and schoolwork. It was much easier to excel in art history than to throw a basketball into a hoop."

  "You're a little short for basketball anyway."

  "True." She didn't know why she'd told him about her health issues. It wasn't something she'd spoken about in a long time, but there was something about Jeremy that made her want to lower her protective barriers. "So now you know about my weakness."

  "I've seen no evidence of weakness in you, Mia. Impulsiveness, maybe."

  "You're not going to let me forget about climbing up to the roof, are you?"

  "Not any time soon." His smile made her stomach do a somersault. The connection between them was ridiculously strong, but their relationship was so undefined. They weren't dating. They were sort of friends, but not really. But there was an honesty between them that she hadn't had with any other man.

  Unfortunately, Jeremy's mood abruptly changed when the café door opened and a man walked in.

  He was older, fifties she thought, with gray hair, a weathered, lined face and a scruffy beard. He had a solid, broad build and wore jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that displayed the logo for Buddy's Bait and Tackle.

  He paused inside the door, his gaze sweeping the restaurant. He saw his friends and started forward, and then froze when he saw Jeremy.

  His face paled as his dark eyes moved on to Ashlyn.

  Jeremy drew in a sharp breath.

  "Who's that?" Mia asked.

  Before Jeremy could reply, the man walked over to their table.

  "Jeremy," he said, a harsh, rough note in his voice.

  "Dad."

  She stiffened at the word. "This is your father?"

  "Yes," the man said stiffly, answering for his son. "Cameron Holt."

  "Mia Callaway."

  "And this is my daughter," Jeremy said. "Ashlyn Price."

  "Price?" Cameron echoed. "Why doesn't she have your name?"

  "I told you why, but you probably don't remember."

  A tense silence followed his words.

  Mia decided to break it. "I heard you were on vacation, Mr. Holt. Was it somewhere lovely?"

  "Vacation?" he queried with a grumble. "Is that what he told you?"

  "I might have misunderstood," she said quickly, realizing now it had been a lie.

  "Why did you come back here?" Cameron asked Jeremy. "You said you'd never live in Angel's Bay."

  "That's a question I keep asking myself," Jeremy replied. "You should join your friends."

  "You never did want me around."

  "You never wanted to be around," Jeremy returned.

  A long, hard look passed between the two men. There was so much anger that the air practically sizzled between them. Ashlyn must have picked up on the tension, because she scooted her chair closer to Mia.

  Both men saw the little girl's move. Anger flared in Jeremy's eyes at the action. But the look that Cameron gave his granddaughter was filled with pain. Then Cameron turned and walked over to his friends.

  "Are you okay?" she asked Jeremy, seeing the tension in every hard line of his face.

  "Fine."

  "You don't look fine."

  "Just leave it alone."

  "Jeremy—"

  "I need to take a walk," he interrupted. "Could you stay with Ashlyn?"

  "Of course, but I think the food will be here soon."

  "I just need a minute. I'll be right back."

  When Jeremy left the café, Mia saw his father's gaze follow him out the door. There might be a lot of anger between the two men, but there was something else, too; she just wasn't sure what it was.

  Six

  Jeremy walked a half-mile before his pulse went back to normal and he wasn't seeing the world through the colors of rage. He didn't know why he let his father get to him. He didn't know why he ever expected the man to act any differently. Cameron Holt had been pissed off at Jeremy for his entire life, or at least every day since his mother had died.

  His father's sister had tried to tell him that Cameron was destroyed by his mother's death, but that had never explained why his father had turned away from him. Not that they'd ever been close.

  His father was a wanderer. In his youth, he had traveled the world, crewing for whatever ship needed another hand. And as an adult, he had spent lots of time at sea, sometimes fishing the oceans on the other side of the globe. He was probably not a man who should have ever gotten married or had a child, but apparently when he'd met Tracy Warner, he'd decided she was worth staying home for. So he'd settled in Angel's Bay, saying he was content to fish the Pacific Ocean for the rest of his life as long as he had her.

  And his mother was everything his father was not. She was warm, friendly, interested in people, someone who liked to have friends, to be social, who participated in community events. Sometimes his dad would come along, probably just to humor his wife, but Cameron had always been more content in his own company or with the few men who were just like him. If he had nothing in common with someone, he wasn't going to waste a minute trying to find something to talk about; he'd just move on.

  He'd moved on from Jeremy right after Tracy died. He'd gotten his sister to stay with Jeremy the first few weeks. Then it was a series of housekeepers/babysitters until Jeremy was in high school. Then it was just the two of them.

  Actually, it had mostly just been him.

  Drawing in a breath, he stopped to look at the ocean. The large, rough waves crashing against the seawall in the distance fit his mood quite nicely. That was the thing about Angel's Bay. The calm waters in the bay turned into turbulent waves that could take down a ship, wreck everything in its wake, and make you wonder if you would ever get back to shore.

  His life had felt very much like that ocean in recent weeks. But he would get back to shore. He would beat the storm, because he didn't just have himself to save; he had his daughter.

  It wasn't about him and his father anymore; that wasn't the family he was interested in. It was about him and Ashlyn. They would be the new Holt family, the one his mother had tried so hard to build while she was alive.

  Sadness ran through him as he thought about his mother. She would have loved to have a grandchild, to know Ashlyn. She would have known how to reach his daughter. As a teacher, she'd loved kids—all kids, even the ones who were a little broken.

  But Ashlyn would recover. He would make sure of that.

  Turning, he walked back to the café, feeling guilty and pissed off that he'd let his emotions get the best of him.

  He shouldn't have left Ashlyn with Mia. He shouldn't have walked out on either of them. That had been a mistake. He didn't think Cameron would try to speak to Ashlyn on his own, but Jeremy certainly didn't want that to happen when he wasn't there.

  When he entered the restaurant, he was relieved to see that his dad and his friends had left, and Mia and Ashlyn were finishing up their lunc
h.

  "I asked the waitress to keep your lunch warm," Mia told him with a sympathetic smile.

  "Thanks."

  She motioned to the cheerful middle-aged woman named Connie who had taken their order, and a moment later he had a burger and fries in front of him.

  "This place has great food," Mia continued. "Ashlyn enjoyed her meal."

  He was surprised to see that Ashlyn had actually eaten almost her entire burger. Maybe her appetite was starting to come back.

  "Your dad left right after you did," Mia added. "He didn't speak to us again, in case you were wondering."

  "Good."

  "You said your dad is a fisherman?"

  "That's right," he said, biting into his burger. "He goes out every day before dawn."

  "Did he teach you how to fish?"

  "He tried. I didn't care for it. It's too slow, and there are too many variables out of my control."

  "But there is still a battle between man and fish. Surely, that would appeal to your competitive instincts?" she teased.

  "The few seconds when the fish takes the bait, and I try to reel him in, is the only exciting part. The minutes and hours in between I always found incredibly boring."

  "What about your mom? Did she work before she died?"

  "She was an elementary school teacher here in Angel's Bay. Her classroom was her second home. Every August, she'd take me to school and we'd hang mobiles and posters and alphabet letters to get ready for the first-graders coming in for the next year. She was a wonderful person."

  "You must take after her."

  "I would prefer that over my father, but the truth is I'm probably somewhere between both of them."

  "You got the best of each."

  "That would be better than the worst."

  She smiled. "I'm going to use the restroom. Ashlyn, do you want to go with me?"

  Ashlyn nodded and stood up, taking Mia's hand as they walked across the restaurant.

  While they were in the restroom, he quickly finished his meal. He'd no sooner put the last bite in his mouth when Kent entered the café.

  Kent wasn't in uniform today. Wearing faded jeans and a T-shirt, he looked much more like the guy Jeremy had grown up with. Kent stopped at the counter to order a roast beef sandwich to go, teasing Dina into giving him extra beef, and then headed over to Jeremy's table.

  "Hey. Where's your better half?" Kent asked, grabbing one of the three empty chairs at the table.

  "In the restroom."

  "I'm glad I ran into you. I've got good news. Barton is going to be in town tomorrow."

  "Really? Why?"

  Kent grinned. "He says it's his mom's birthday, but I think he wants to check up on you."

  "I'm fine." He had mixed feelings about Craig Barton, his high school buddy and fellow Delta Force soldier, coming to Angel's Bay. It was one thing to hang out with Kent, who'd left the service a year ago and had another life now, but another thing to spend time with Barton, who was doing exactly what Jeremy wanted to do and might not ever be able to do again.

  "How's the shoulder?" Kent asked, a speculative gleam in his eyes.

  "Better than yesterday," he lied.

  "That's good. Have you thought any more about my suggestion?"

  "I'm not going to be a cop in Angel's Bay."

  "There are worse things."

  "Like dying of boredom?"

  "We have crime here."

  "Stolen bicycles and bar fights."

  "It's not the big city, but there's still a need for a strong police force. We've had more serious problems to deal with than you might think, and I believe you'd fit in quite well. I know you want to save the world, but you've got a daughter to think about now. Plus, you're not getting any younger."

  "Younger than you."

  "By two months," Kent retorted. "I want you to meet some of the guys I work with. A bunch of us are going to Murray's Bar tomorrow night to shoot some pool. You should join us."

  "I've got Ashlyn."

  "I thought Mrs. Danbury said she'd be happy to babysit for you."

  "That's for when I go to therapy."

  "A night out would be good therapy for you. Seriously, when's the last time you just had a beer in your hand and no worries in your head?"

  He couldn't remember the last time.

  "Just think about it," Kent added. "If Barton gets here in the afternoon, I'll make him come, too."

  "I'll have to let you know."

  "We'll be there around seven."

  As Kent finished speaking, Mia and Ashlyn returned to the table.

  Ashlyn hid behind Mia when she saw Kent. Kent had met Ashlyn the first day they'd arrived in Angel's Bay, but she either didn't remember him or just felt shy and awkward. Mia, however, greeted Kent with her usual friendly smile.

  "Hello," Mia said. "I'm Mia Callaway."

  "Kent Palmer," he said, reaching across the table to shake her hand.

  "Nice to meet you. I think Ashlyn is being a little shy," she added with a laugh as she glanced over her shoulder at the little girl hiding behind her.

  "And I thought all the ladies loved me," Kent drawled.

  "In your dreams," Jeremy said.

  "Not just in my dreams," Kent returned. "Jeremy and I go way back."

  "High school?" Mia asked as she sat down with Ashlyn hiding behind her chair.

  "Second grade," Kent said. "How do you know Jeremy?"

  "I'm cleaning out my aunt's house, which is next door to his rental," she explained.

  "Oh, you're Carly's niece. Which one are you? The artist?"

  "I'm not really an artist, but I am involved with art. Did you know her?"

  "Yes. She helped me through a dark period. She let me stay in her cottage after I got out of the service, and that time helped me get my head on straight."

  "Did you paint while you were there?"

  "All night long. I was suffering from some heavy-duty insomnia, but two weeks in that studio with that incredible ocean view, the blank canvases and the bright paints, not to mention the kindness of your aunt, changed my life."

  Jeremy was a little surprised by the depth of emotion in Kent's voice. He'd really had no idea Kent had gone through such a bad time. It made him wonder what else he'd missed when it came to his friend.

  "Your aunt used to bring me a snack every afternoon," Kent continued. "It was usually fresh tomatoes with mozzarella on top. She'd pour me an icy-cold glass of lemonade and we'd sit on the patio and talk about life. She was a very interesting person. I will miss her."

  Mia wiped some moisture from her eyes. "I'm so glad she touched your life in such a positive way. It's nice to hear."

  "Are you going to sell her place?"

  "That's up to my mom, but right now I'm tasked with cleaning it out and getting things organized."

  "I've seen the inside of that house," Kent said. "You have a lot of work ahead of you."

  "Well, I have time. I'm not going to rush it." She paused. "Did you leave behind a piece of your art for my aunt?"

  "Of course. It was all she asked for, and the least I could do to repay her for giving me a safe place to heal."

  "What would you think of me displaying your piece in a collection at a local gallery or perhaps the museum?"

  Kent hesitated. "It wasn't any good."

  "Are you sure? I don't know which one of the paintings is yours, but a lot of them are excellent. But whether it's fantastic or not doesn't even matter. I want to pay homage to art, to its healing powers, to the freedom of expression that my aunt encouraged at her studio, and to the artists who found something within themselves during their time there. Would you be okay with it?"

  "I might have to look at my picture again before answering that question," Kent said slowly.

  Jeremy was surprised by Kent's hesitation. His friend had never been shy about showing off anything. "It can't be that bad," he put in.

  "You'd be surprised," Kent replied, a shadow in his eyes.

  "You never told m
e things were bad," Jeremy said quietly.

  "We've never told each other a lot of things, and we both know why." Kent paused as Connie brought over a to-go bag.

  "Dina says she gave you extra roast beef and two extra pickles," Connie said.

  "Tell her I love her," Kent said with a grin. "And I love you, too, Connie."

  The middle-aged waitress brushed the compliment off with a wave of her hand. "Sure you do. You love anyone who feeds you."

  Kent pushed back his chair and stood up as Connie moved on to the next table. "I need to take off. I'll see you all around."

  "Why don't you come by the studio one day and take a look at the paintings?" Mia suggested. "I'll make sure to pull yours out if you don't want it shown."

  "I'll do that." He looked at Jeremy. "I hope to see you tomorrow night."

  "I'll see."

  As Kent left, Mia gave him a questioning look.

  "He wants me to join him for pool at Murray's Bar tomorrow night."

  "That sounds like fun."

  "Maybe." He took out his wallet and put some cash into the billfold.

  "Can I help?" Mia asked.

  "This is on me. You watched Ashlyn all morning."

  "Actually, I think she watched me, but thank you."

  "Ready to go?"

  "Yes."

  As they walked out of the restaurant, Jeremy's gaze was drawn to the park down the street. He felt an odd wave of nostalgia. Some of his happiest memories were in that park as well as a very important reminder of his mother.

  On impulse, he said, "Would you mind if we take a walk through the park, Mia?"

  "No, of course not."

  "Good. I want to show you and Ashlyn something."

  "What is it?" she asked.

  "You'll see."

  They walked through the trees, past a massive fountain that several kids were playing in, weaving their way through a picnic area and past a huge play structure to a circle of benches at the entrance to the Angel's Bay Conservatory of Flowers.

  He stopped in front of one of those benches and pointed to the gold placard on the back of the bench. "This is my mom's bench."