waited beside her chair as she stepped around the table and made her way toward the front door. She nodded at a few of the townspeople and exchanged a quick hug with a couple of the ladies. As she introduced Jackson, she tried to ignore the knowing smiles and once-overs from all directions. Jackson seemed to take it all in stride, but she wondered what he was thinking as they continued on their way to the cashier. Without a doubt, they’d be the subject of speculation by day’s end. Aretha Simmons— Old Persimmonhead —sitting by the picture window, would make sure of that. An unkind nickname, yes, but the woman’s head was irregularly-shaped, her lips puckered in a permanent state of displeasure.
S he offered to pay her portion of the bill, but Jackson waved his hand in dismissal. “Thanks, but I’m a paying client, and that includes the initial meeting.” The girl behind the counter was young, pretty and gave Jackson a flirty glance while handing over his change. Joining her a few seconds later, he opened the glass door and sent that bell jingling. If the patrons inside hadn’t yet noticed their departure, the bell sounded the alarm. Through the years, many customers had tried to yank that bell away, but the owner insisted it stay.
“ Nothing like being the subject of town gossip,” Jackson said under his breath as they stepped outside in the bright sunlight.
“ Welcome to small town living.” Pulling her sunglasses out of her purse, Serenity positioned them. “It’s not so bad once you get used to it. Which way?”
“ Would you prefer to drive or walk?”
“ Depends on how far we’re going.” Her new leather sandals were comfortable, but not for an extended walk.
“ Only a few blocks. It’d be a shame to waste such a gorgeous day.” He motioned to the right and fell into step beside her.
“ How long have you lived in Croisette Shores?” she asked.
“ All of four days. Didn’t you see the headline in the Croisette Shores Daily News when I hit the town limits?”
That made her laugh. “Sounds like you’ve already got us pegged. Rest assured, someone’s already digging into your background to find out if you’re a long-lost descendant of Croisette Shores royalty.”
Stepping ahead and pulling a low-hanging branch out of her way, Jackson arched a brow. “Royalty?”
Thanking him for his gallantry, she nodded. “Legend has it French royals discovered and settled our fair village in the mid-1800s. Somewhere along the way—no one seems to know when—the bloodline petered out. It doesn’t stop people from speculating about a royal surfacing here again someday.”
Jackson chuckled. “Sounds fun, but if I was descended from royalty—which I’m not—I’d prefer to keep my life private. The life of a royal would be too burdensome, don’t you think? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go bring around my yacht.” He might not be royalty, but the man had a devastating smile.
She laughed. “Right. I think you’ll discover soon enough the people here are loyal to their own.”
A small gust of wind whipped hair across his forehead as they walked. She liked how the sun brought out highlights in his hair and it curled on the ends. Danny had curls like that, and she’d always loved them. Even though Jackson possessed a casual, friendly air, he also projected an air of easy sophistication. This man would probably be equally at home in a tuxedo—brushing elbows with the elite at one of town’s charity galas—or casual on the beach.
“ Tell me.”
S erenity snapped to attention, but she tried not to be obvious about how distracting she found him. “We might annoy each other to the point of nausea sometimes,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “but deep down, the people are here for each other in a heartbeat. Loyalty means something.”
Jackson slid his hands into the pockets of his khakis. “I have to ask, are you speaking from personal experience?”
She slowed her
S he offered to pay her portion of the bill, but Jackson waved his hand in dismissal. “Thanks, but I’m a paying client, and that includes the initial meeting.” The girl behind the counter was young, pretty and gave Jackson a flirty glance while handing over his change. Joining her a few seconds later, he opened the glass door and sent that bell jingling. If the patrons inside hadn’t yet noticed their departure, the bell sounded the alarm. Through the years, many customers had tried to yank that bell away, but the owner insisted it stay.
“ Nothing like being the subject of town gossip,” Jackson said under his breath as they stepped outside in the bright sunlight.
“ Welcome to small town living.” Pulling her sunglasses out of her purse, Serenity positioned them. “It’s not so bad once you get used to it. Which way?”
“ Would you prefer to drive or walk?”
“ Depends on how far we’re going.” Her new leather sandals were comfortable, but not for an extended walk.
“ Only a few blocks. It’d be a shame to waste such a gorgeous day.” He motioned to the right and fell into step beside her.
“ How long have you lived in Croisette Shores?” she asked.
“ All of four days. Didn’t you see the headline in the Croisette Shores Daily News when I hit the town limits?”
That made her laugh. “Sounds like you’ve already got us pegged. Rest assured, someone’s already digging into your background to find out if you’re a long-lost descendant of Croisette Shores royalty.”
Stepping ahead and pulling a low-hanging branch out of her way, Jackson arched a brow. “Royalty?”
Thanking him for his gallantry, she nodded. “Legend has it French royals discovered and settled our fair village in the mid-1800s. Somewhere along the way—no one seems to know when—the bloodline petered out. It doesn’t stop people from speculating about a royal surfacing here again someday.”
Jackson chuckled. “Sounds fun, but if I was descended from royalty—which I’m not—I’d prefer to keep my life private. The life of a royal would be too burdensome, don’t you think? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go bring around my yacht.” He might not be royalty, but the man had a devastating smile.
She laughed. “Right. I think you’ll discover soon enough the people here are loyal to their own.”
A small gust of wind whipped hair across his forehead as they walked. She liked how the sun brought out highlights in his hair and it curled on the ends. Danny had curls like that, and she’d always loved them. Even though Jackson possessed a casual, friendly air, he also projected an air of easy sophistication. This man would probably be equally at home in a tuxedo—brushing elbows with the elite at one of town’s charity galas—or casual on the beach.
“ Tell me.”
S erenity snapped to attention, but she tried not to be obvious about how distracting she found him. “We might annoy each other to the point of nausea sometimes,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “but deep down, the people are here for each other in a heartbeat. Loyalty means something.”
Jackson slid his hands into the pockets of his khakis. “I have to ask, are you speaking from personal experience?”
She slowed her
Similar Books
