Moonshell Beach: A Shelter Bay Novel by Joann Ross

must tell them about that. Because it’s always good for them to realize that it’s also okay to be a late bloomer.”
    Even J.T., who’d never claim to be bucking for any Miss Manners etiquette award, knew that wasn’t exactly a compliment.
    He shot a sideways glance toward Mary Joyce at the same time she looked over at him. The humor sparkling in her eyes suggested that not only was she not offended, but she didn’t take herself all that seriously in the first place. Which was not at all what he’d been expecting.
    As if she could read his mind, her lips curved and her challenging smile seemed to say,
Surprised, Douchett?
    Maybe,
he thought.
But the jury’s still out.
    “Since you’re such a fan of Art Deco, wait until you see the inside,” Bodhi said, breaking into the silent conversation taking place in the front seats. “The original theater didn’t have a concession stand. Back then patrons purchased refreshments from rolling carts in the lobby. So we added two permanent stands built in the same style as the outside of the building. We have a special souvenir program from opening night in a glass case in the lobby. And framed photos in the lobby showing the restoration after the town nearly lost it in the nineteen eighties.”
    “A former administration felt we needed a parking lot for the tourists,” Mayor Dennis said scornfully. “Fortunately more intelligent heads prevailed, we were able to get the Orcas put on the historical register, and with all the local businesspeople and citizenspitching in—the high school clubs even had car washes and younger children sent in pennies—we achieved the funding to restore it to its former glory.”
    “We Irish love our historic buildings. Even those crumbling away in the fields.” Mary twisted in her seat to talk directly to the theater owner. “How many seats does the Orcas hold?”
    “The original building had nine hundred and forty-five seats. Now, because we’ve expanded the stage and added an orchestra pit for live performances, it can accommodate six hundred and fifty, along with ten wheelchairs. Of course, although we’re not taking advance reservations for the entry films, we sold out all your films in the first thirty minutes.”
    “Well, that’s encouraging. I’d feel terrible if you changed your schedule on my account and no one showed up!”
    “Oh, that would never happen,” the mayor chirped.
    “I know multiplexes are all the rage right now, but intimate theaters like the Orcas are where I first fell in love with the movies,” Bodhi said. “It’s also where I copped my first feel while necking with Betty Ann Palmer in the back row of the balcony during
Night of the Living Dead
.”
    Mary laughed at that. It was a warm, seductively smoky laugh that slipped beneath J.T.’s skin and had him tightening his fingers on the steering wheel. It was also, he remembered, the same one her selkie character had used to charm the scientist as she’d made love with him on the beach.
    “And isn’t that an age-old teenage boy’s ploy?” There was more of a lilt of Ireland in her voice whenshe was amused. “Taking a girl to a horror movie to get her poor frightened self to practically climb into your lap?”
    “Hey.” Bodhi laughed back. “When you’re fourteen, whatever works.”
    “A guy’s gotta go with whatever works however old he is,” Reece said. “Isn’t that right, J.T.?”
    Less than thrilled to be dragged into the conversation, J.T. shrugged. “Works for me.” No way was he going to admit that he’d done his own share of romantic fumblings in that balcony.
    “Of course, J.T. wouldn’t know about having to resort to ploys,” the mayor said. “Not only is he handsome as homemade sin—those Marine dress blues don’t hurt a man’s chances.”
    The headache J.T. had woken up with this morning returned as maniacs began pounding at his temples with jackhammers. “I’m a former Marine,” he said firmly, having no intention