So she’d spent the day doing everything she normally did, and during the block of time in the afternoon that she allotted for perfecting her sketches inside the house, she’d worked on some personal art instead, drawings of the expanse of beach and wide swath of blue sky visible from her sunroom. But throughout the day, in the back of Heather’s mind was her date with Bo.
She wasn’t nervous—they’d been together almost daily for weeks. He stopped by for coffee in the morning before heading off for a job, or they’d grab a bite at the Long Island Café on the island. Sometimes they’d just sit in the back deck rockers and listen to music while they read, talked, and looked out to sea. He was waiting for some signal from her before going further, she knew it. And tonight, when he was taking her out to celebrate the completion of her sketches, might just be the time to give him the green light.
Of course, she’d been battling her inner fears over the implications of tonight, which made the day seem even longer. The hours crawled, despite her carefully regimented schedule and blocked-off segments of time. As the afternoon grew late she soaked in a scented tub and let her tense muscles loosen. Closing her eyes, she brought to mind the feel of Bo’s lips on hers, saw in her mind the extraordinary color of his blue eyes, so clear it was akin to looking at the sky on a sunny day.
Then, suddenly, it was time to get ready. She saw the light at the end of the tunnel.
Feeling giddy with anticipation, Heather took her time getting dressed. For the first time she put on the new lacy underwear she’d ordered, then polished her nails and dabbed her favorite perfume behind her ears. She agonized over choosing the right outfit and finally selected her white sundress, because he’d commented once how much he liked it, and high strappy heels. She brushed her hair out methodically, stroking the mother-of-pearl–handled comb through her waves until they shone like burnished gold. She let it hang long and straight down her shoulders. Finally, she slipped on pearls for her neck and ears.
When she walked into the living room, she found Cara sitting on the sofa reading. Cara looked up and closed the book.
“You look lovely,” Cara said, her dark eyes lighting. “Bo’s a lucky man.”
Heather felt a great relief that Cara approved. She’d felt self-conscious stepping out for this date in front of a woman who had recently lost the love of her life. But Cara seemed truly excited for Heather, a spark entering her eyes that she hadn’t seen since Cara had moved back in.
“I wanted to let you know,” Cara said in a casual tone. “I’m spending the night at Emmi’s. We’re going to have a good old-fashioned girls’ night watching movies, eating popcorn, giggling.” Cara swirled her wine. “So I won’t be here when you get home.” She quickly took a sip of wine, her look inscrutable.
“Sounds like fun,” Heather said, looking away. Cara’s message was as subtle as a truck. She quickly changed the subject. “I couldn’t decide on shoes,” she said, lifting her leg to show off a very tall, very sexy heel. “Are these too high?”
“Depends. Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. It’s a surprise.”
Cara’s eyes flashed and her face shifted to an amused grin. “A surprise? Oh, Heather,” she said with humor in her voice. “When a lowcountry man tells you he’s taking you out on a surprise dinner date, you’d better wear flats. I remember the surprise dinner date that Brett took me on when we began dating. Let me just say he picked me up in a johnboat.”
Heather laughed. “I could see Bo doing that.”
Cara smiled again and her eyes reflected some personal memory. “And put mosquito spray everywhere!”
BO ARRIVED IN his truck a short while later, and as she opened the door Heather was intrigued to see he wore the classic dinner attire she’d come to associate with a lowcountry man—khaki pants and a blue blazer. He towered over her in her flats, and his astonishing, pale blue eyes seemed even livelier than normal.
“You’re beautiful,” he said simply, upon seeing her. “Are you ready?”
“Yes. Let me just grab my purse.”
She went to the front table as Cara meandered by, holding a glass of wine in one hand.
“You clean up well,” she said to Bo in a complimentary way.
He laughed lightly. “Special night.”
“So I understand.” She pointed her finger and said with mock gravity, “You treat our girl well.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Bye, Cara,” Heather said with a private warning glance. Secretly she was glad Cara was coming out of her shell and up to teasing.
“Don’t wait up,” Bo added. Cara let out a little laugh and raised her wineglass in acknowledgment.
Once they were in the car, Heather asked, “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
Bo backed out of the narrow gravel driveway and then, shifting gears, headed south toward Sullivan’s Island. “You’ll know soon enough.”
“Is it a popular restaurant?” she asked.
“No, I wouldn’t say that.”
“Good,” she said with a sigh of relief. “Going to a packed restaurant with lots of people would make me so nervous I might not appreciate what I’m eating.” She glanced over at him. “And I want to enjoy every minute of our date.”
He swung his head to glance at her, smiling. “That’s the plan.”
They drove over the Hunley Bridge. The sky was beginning to shift colors as the sun lowered. Breach Inlet shimmered below them in translucent lavender. The radio station Bo had turned on was playing country music, which suited Heather’s mood, and, caught in the mood of mystery, neither of them spoke. They didn’t travel far. Bo didn’t turn to go over the bridge toward Charleston. Instead he turned right on Middle Street, staying on Sullivan’s Island. They inched down Middle Street where the restaurants were jam-packed with summer visitors, past the fire station and the park. Heather sat up in her seat as they left the small business district and turned toward the back of the island. Where was he taking her? she wondered.
He turned again, off the paved road onto a dirt road that ran along the back of the island. The houses here were large, discreet, and mostly hidden by shrubs and trees. He turned into the driveway of one of them, toward a white clapboard house half hidden by an enormous live oak tree, its heavy boughs seemingly cradling the old house. “Where are we?” she asked.