“Elsie and Beatrice?” He looked at her curiously as he picked up one of the rolls from his plate.
Something about him seemed different now, and not nearly as sullen, morose, and angry.
Dante didn’t live here permanently, so Sarah assumed he’d never met the dangerous duo. “Town matchmakers. Both over the age of eighty and very sweet ladies. But very scary when they start trying to happily marry off the entire town. I’m surprised they didn’t know your other brother was coming into Amesport. They certainly knew you were on your way.”
She watched as Dante took his first bite, his eyes closing for a moment as he chewed. Sarah wasn’t certain, but she was pretty sure his expression was the same look of rapture that was on her face the first time she tasted the succulent Maine lobster in Amesport. Mixed with mayonnaise, lemon juice, and spices, it was incredible on the warm rolls, which were brushed with butter on each side. “You’ve never had lobster rolls? They’re everywhere here.” She went to the fridge, pulled out two cans of soda, and pushed one toward him.
Dante opened it and took a swig before replying. “I’ve only been here twice, and then I only stayed for a day or two. And had I known about these, I would have gotten some,” he said before taking another bite.
Sarah started on her own roll, the two of them eating in silence for a while before she asked curiously, “Why have you only been here twice? All of the Sinclairs have had a house on the peninsula for years.”
“That was Jared’s idea. He decided we all needed to build a home here since we owned the property. Nobody argued, so he got them built. He did it after Grady put his house on the end of the peninsula. The only two times I even saw my house here was when Emily and Grady were first engaged, and for the wedding. I couldn’t stay long either time.” He stared at her, his expression concerned as he asked, “Should you be standing on that foot?”
Sarah’s heart warmed just a little at the worried look on his face. “I went to med school, and I’m a doctor. I’m used to eating standing up. My feet aren’t hurting. They aren’t cut that badly.”
After he refused another lobster roll, Sarah took both plates, rinsed them, and put them in the dishwasher. “Did you make the plans for the house yourself?” she called over her shoulder.
“Hell, no. The house is too damn big. I can’t find anything there. I have a one-bedroom apartment in Los Angeles, and that’s all I’ve ever needed. I told Jared I wanted an exercise room and a couple of other things. He took care of everything else.” Dante finally looked down at the floor, where Coco still sat calmly at his feet. “Is that supposed to be a dog?”
Sarah took the last sip of her soda before tossing the can in the recycling container under her sink. She walked out to the living room, sat on the arm of her couch, and folded her arms in front of her. “Of course Coco is a dog. She’s a Chipoo.”
Dante turned on the bar stool to face her, a slight smirk on his lips. “What in the hell is a Chipoo? She looks more like a mop with eyes. But at least she’s not a yappy jumper.”
Affronted by his description of her precious canine, Sarah glared at him. “She’s extremely well behaved and trained, so she waits for an invitation to snuggle. A Chipoo is a mixed-breed Chihuahua and poodle.” Coco looked more like a dark brown small poodle, and her hair was long, but she looked like an adorable dog, not a mop. “And why in the world would you let your brother build your house? It doesn’t make any sense.”
Dante shrugged. “Does everything have to make sense to you? He wanted us all to have a house here, and I didn’t give a shit. I didn’t have the time to worry about the details. Since he wanted it more than I didn’t want it, I let him do it.”
Sarah shook her head, but she let the conversation go. It was obvious that the Sinclair brothers had more money than they knew what to do with. Maybe building a seven-figure home on a beautiful seaside peninsula and letting it sit empty made sense to Dante Sinclair, even though she still didn’t see how it would. “If you had my mother, you’d always make sensible decisions,” Sarah muttered to herself, slapping her thigh a few times to allow Coco to jump into her lap. She stroked the thick fur on her pet, and Coco settled comfortably into her lap.
“Lucky dog,” Dante commented huskily before adding, “Your mother was a slave driver? You were already a prodigy. What the hell else did she want?”
Sarah sighed, stroking Coco’s head absently as she replied. “My mother is a professor of mathematics in Chicago and a member of Mensa, along with a very long list of other scholastic achievements. The academic world is everything to her. She makes most tiger moms look like kitty cats. Having me move out of Chicago and to a small town to be a family doctor didn’t exactly make her ecstatic. She was disappointed.”