The couple waves back, smiling. They look to be in their mid-fifties or so.
“Hey, Jane,” the man calls out. “Where you going?”
“Over to dinner at The Black Swan,” she calls back as we continue to walk along the front of their property, our pace slowing as she converses.
“Who’s your fella?” the woman asks as she leans forward in her chair a bit.
Jane jerks her thumb at me. “Kyle. He’s my neighbor. No clue what his last name is.”
“Harding,” I provide to her in a low voice.
“Harding,” she calls back.
“How do you do, Mr. Harding?” the lady says with a wave at me.
I wave back and give her a nod of my head.
“You two have a nice dinner,” the man says with a smile. By this time, we’ve reached the edge of their yard and are walking past the next house.
“See you later,” Jane calls back, touching her fingers to her lips and blowing the couple a kiss.
When we make it past the next house, Front Street—and the sidewalk—starts to curve slightly to the right, and the rest of the harbor starts to open up in front of us. I’d not been to this part of the town, not having ventured past Main Street, which is where the grocery store sits on one end and The Lobster Cage on the other.
“You know everyone in town,” I observe, thinking of her familiarity with the little dog and the easy exchange of friendly banter with the couple.
“Pretty much,” she says merrily, and I can hear the love for her community in her voice. “That couple back there more than anyone as that was my mom and my dad.”
I stop dead in my tracks and look back to their house, seeing that they’re both still watching Jane and me. When I turn back to face Jane, I see her eyes sparkling with amusement.
“They’re your parents?” I ask incredulously.
“Yup,” she says with a grin.
I cock an eyebrow at her. “And they didn’t want to meet or learn more about your neighbor whose last name you don’t even know?”
“Oh, they want to meet you,” she says with a nod of her head and mischief in her voice. “I’ll be expected to call them later and tell them all about it. You see, I don’t date a lot, and they’ll be chomping at the bit to find out all about you. But they’re also not intrusive, so they’ll be content to wait for me to tell them the details.”
“Of course you’ll tell them that this isn’t a date,” I say gruffly as we continue to walk.
“Sure I will,” she says as she loops her hand through my arm and grips me right in the crook of my elbow. She pats my bicep reassuringly with her other hand and says, “If it makes you feel better, I’ll totally tell them this isn’t a date.”
“Because this is a thank-you gesture only,” I say sternly, but even I can hear amusement seeping through in my voice, completely unwanted.
She just pats my bicep again. “Whatever you say.”
“Seriously,” I insist. “Not a date.”
“Not a date,” she agrees, but her lips are tipped up in a way that clearly says she thinks she’s on a date.
I resolve to myself that when I walk her back home tonight that I’m not kissing her. I’m going to show her that this is just a friendly dinner between neighbors and nothing more.
We walk along in silence. Jane’s arm remains tucked into mine, but I don’t make a move to dislodge it. It’s the closest I’ve been to her physically, and I’m painfully aware it’s been a long fucking time since a woman’s touched me in such a sweet way. Despite every fiber of my being screaming at me not to get involved with her, I like her touch too much to push her away right now.
And the realization is almost shattering as it becomes clear I’m probably in a losing battle with myself.
CHAPTER 11
Jane
My fingers dig slightly into Kyle’s arm as we step up to the door of The Black Swan, but then I release him. He hadn’t uttered a word for the rest of our walk here, but he also didn’t try to distance himself from me either.
To my surprise, Kyle reaches an arm behind me, his other hand coming to rest lightly on my shoulder as he gently pushes me to the side a bit so he can open the door for me. I step through and his hand drops away as he walks in behind me.
“Hey, Jane,” the hostess, Kiley Grimmons, greets me from behind a podium. “Two for dinner?”
“Yes, please,” I tell her with a smile. Kiley was three years behind me in high school, so I don’t know her all that well, but her father owns the hardware store and everyone knows Chib. He used to be a deep-sea fisherman, but lost his hand in a tragic accident when it got caught in the gears of the winch system used to haul in the catch. He retired from that but wasn’t deterred from making a life for himself. Instead, he opened up a hardware store on Main Street that’s done surprisingly well for such a small community.
“Right this way,” Kiley says as her eyes linger on Kyle curiously before she grabs the menus.