“You don’t have to convince me,” Mandi said, biting into the pastry. “Mmm. So good.”

  “When do you head back?”

  “Twelve days. I was supposed to leave sooner but, due to circumstances, I was granted two work weeks before starting my new job. That includes a weekend, so essentially twelve days, but I need a day for traveling back to New York. I’m sticking around because there’s work to be done on the cottage so that we can sell it. Keep that to yourself for now. I don’t want my dad butting in.”

  “You’re selling?”

  Mandi cocked her head and shrugged. Darla leaned back into the chair.

  “I guess I was holding out hope that you might move back.”

  “And do what?”

  “I’d hire you to run my website and marketing.”

  “I can’t live on one client, Darla. Besides, you know I’d give you free advice anytime.”

  “What about Gray? Doesn’t he want the house?”

  Mandi was going to go on the assumption that the entire town knew the details of the inheritance by now, but she wasn’t about to discuss Gray’s finances. Darla was a good friend, but Nana had taught Mandi to never say too much to anyone. There were some things that stayed within the family circle. Mandi had also not spoken to Darla in a long time. It hit her that she really had distanced herself more than she realized over the past two years...not just from Gray, but from everyone.

  “We came to an agreement of sorts. Look, Darla, forget about me. I need a major sugar binge and to hear about you.”

  “Okay. Not much to say, though. Always busy, busy.” A hint of color tinged her cheeks and she paused, as if mentally filtering what she should or shouldn’t share, then gave her head a subtle shake. “Gray comes in here every day. Brings that gorgeous dog of his and buys an entire box of whatever’s fresh out of the oven for everyone at his clinic.”

  Mandi was glad she’d just taken a huge bite. She chewed and nodded like the information was no big deal. So what if he came here on a daily basis? It was classic Gray to think of his staff and bring them breakfast. It was the way Darla blushed that made something flutter in her stomach. She washed down her bite of pastry with hot coffee and tried to look as nonchalant as possible. What did she expect? For Gray not to have a social life over the past two years? Darla had been Mandi’s friend since high school, so she had also met him back when he first moved to town. She just didn’t know him as well as Mandi did. At least Mandi didn’t think so. Maybe they’d gotten to know one another better in her absence. Maybe he had opened up to Darla about things he’d never shared with Mandi. He hadn’t mentioned seeing anyone, but then he was good at keeping secrets. Mandi shuddered visibly.

  “Oh my gosh talk about a fast sugar-caffeine high,” Mandi said, wiping her mouth and hoping to change the subject. She was losing her mind. Since when was she the jealous type? Never. This was stress induced. The funeral, feelings of loss, the house, seeing Gray again...it was having a negative effect on her. “I’m talking about myself, but I’m sure Gray’s staff get it, too, whenever he picks up pastries for them.”

  “The secret is in the sea salt,” Darla whispered. “It brings out the flavor in everything, and between salt and sugar, I have everyone’s cravings covered.”

  “You’re no better than a drug dealer. I’m surprised Sheriff Ryker hasn’t taken you down yet. Is he still single?”

  Darla flipped her thick blond braid over her shoulder.

  “He’s always in here, too. Coffee, no cream, and a cinnamon pecan muffin. He says the cinnamon and nuts balance the sugar and hold him over till lunch.”

  “You’re brilliant. You know that, don’t you? You can stay in one spot all day and the men come to you. The marketer in me thinks you should rename the place The Sugar Trap.”

  They broke down laughing, drawing the attention of customers on their way out, and the assistant, who acted like he’d never heard his boss laugh before.

  “Trust me, I’m not dating the sheriff. Too serious about everything. Even his muffins.”

  “If you say so. Darla, I could sit here all day but I have so much to do,” Mandi said, scooting her chair.

  “I’ll box one of everything for you. On the house. Just promise me you’ll find time to hang out with me before you leave.”

  “I will.” She stood and looked at her friend. Darla was a genuine person. Who was Mandi to get in the way of her happiness? Or Gray’s? Doing so would be selfish. She really did want them both to find happiness. “Just so you know, I’m okay with it if you and Gray are interested in—”

  The bakery’s door chimed and Gray stopped in his tracks.

  “Darla and I are interested in what?” he asked.

  Her friend’s eyes widened.

  “Interested in going to a bonfire she’s holding on the beach tonight,” Darla blurted. “Mandi was checking to see if we’d help set it up.”

  What kind of cover-up was that?

  “Um, yes.” Mandi shot Darla a look and scrambled to fall in step. “A small bonfire. Old friends. And a toast in honor of Nana.”

  Gray’s eyes narrowed and skipped between the two of them.

  “Sure. Count me in.”

  * * *

  PEOPLE WHO COULDN’T comprehend why anyone would live on a narrow strip of land dangling in the Atlantic Ocean and practically beckoning for hurricanes to unleash flood and fury on it had never visited the Outer Banks. If the soft sands, egrets peering above tall grasses, bold lighthouses and the wild horses farther north in Corolla—endangered descendants of Spanish mustangs—weren’t enough to make up for the hurricane threat, being able to see the sun in the west, dripping its last rays over the sound, while at the same time watching the moon rise over the Atlantic, was more than enough.

  Gray added another log to the small fire he started and brushed the sand off his hands. He could see Darla heading over, carrying what were probably leftover bakery items from today, and a few others, Carlos included, were close behind her. Laddie ran over to help round them up and guide them to the fire.

  Mandi unfolded a fourth camping chair. Her dark brown hair, glistening with red highlights from the sunset, fell across her face. He pretended not to watch as she tucked it behind her ears. Her cheek was damp and she swiped it with the back of her hand. She was having a moment. He had been having them, too, ever since Nana’s passing. Moments where he seemed to forget she was gone and half expected her to walk out onto her porch. Mandi wiped her other cheek, conscious of the crowd nearing the campfire. He wanted to hug and comfort her, but it would only spread rumors. She’d hate him for that.

  “I think we’re set. Hopefully others will bring chairs...and ice. I didn’t get ice,” she said, a hint of panic in her voice.

  “Mandi, breathe. It’s a casual gathering. It’s all good. I’ve got plenty under the drinks in the cooler. If we need more, I’ll run back to the house.”

  He could have meant either place, his lighthouse caretaker’s cabin or Nana’s. They had set up midway between the houses and the town’s boardwalk, to make it convenient for everyone. She nodded and pressed her lips together, then left the campfire circle to greet the others. Laddie stuck by her side. That dog had an incredible sense of who needed his support. He had also probably picked up on the energy between Gray and Mandi and knew that Gray would want him to look out for her.

  Gray moved the cooler a little out of the way to make more seating room. The weather was perfect and the breeze had died down, allowing the fire smoke to twirl straight up into the dimming sky. Personally, he preferred sitting on the beach at night as far from town as he could get to escape the artificial lights. There was something spiritual about sitting beneath an indigo sky with no light except that of the moon and stars. But whenever turtle nests along the beach closer to town were due to hatch, he stuck close by. The town lights made his presence more critical. For years now, he had been keeping a log and reporting found nests to a local nonprofit organization that specialized in tracking, counting and testing eggs for the type of endangered or threatened turtle—hawksbill, Kemp’s ridley, green, loggerheads and leatherbacks. Nests were typically laid high up on the beach, closer to the dunes that led to beach cottages and town boardwalks, leaving baby turtles with quite a journey to the shoreline after hatching. The organization had volunteers to help watch for hatchlings when they were due, usually around two months, give or take, after laying. He was one of those volunteers, just as Nana had been, and he knew that some of the nests he had marked this season were due to hatch within the next few weeks. The problem was that the town lights, and lights from beach houses, were prone to disorienting the baby turtles, but he had never been successful in trying to get businesses along the boardwalk to shut down at a reasonable hour. Money was the bottom line and this was their busiest season. They catered to visitors wanting a place to hang and have a late meal or drinks. Not to turtles.

  In the past, during hatching, he had always left Laddie at home. Even friendly dogs were a bad idea with hatchlings crawling everywhere. Gray then did his best to help the babies—naturally wired to head for the brightest horizon, which was usually the moon and starlight reflecting off the ocean—make it to the water’s edge safely. Town lights had a way of confusing their sense of direction. The light pollution also stole their prime protection from predators—darkness. They needed to stay in the shadows, much like Gray was destined to do, in order to survive. But no one whose livelihood relied on keeping their business in the black was about to turn away customers—a fact of life that frustrated the heck out of him.

  “Hey, Doc. This one’s on me.” Carlos slapped him on the back and handed him a beer, before sitting down and popping open an orange soda. “Cheers.”

  “No beer?”

  “I’m taking the night shift in an hour. Can’t stay long.”

  The rest of the group set down their food and drink contributions, said their hellos and headed straight for the water, leaving him alone with the sheriff. Mandi lagged a little behind them, hands tucked in the pockets of her shorts and Laddie still at her side, although he did glance back at Gray once or twice, as if to admonish him for sitting around instead of looking after her.

  Mandi didn’t want or need looking after.

  The group neared the water’s edge and a few began wading in.

  “Hey! Sharks like this time of day!” Gray called out after them.

  “What happened to that shirt you wear with the vegan shark on it? You lied to us,” Darla called back.

  “Me, lie? Haven’t you seen that meme that says the ocean gets its saltiness from the tears of misunderstood sharks who just want to cuddle?”

  “Who wrote that?” Mandi asked.

  “I don’t know, but it’s all over the internet,” Eve said. “I’ve seen it before and respect the sharks, but don’t plan on cuddling with any.”

  “Good choice,” Gray said.

  “Don’t worry. We’re only going ankle deep.” Darla gave Gray a reassuring smile.

  “You were born a mother hen, Zale.” Carlos chuckled as he watched everyone kicking up water, then he took a swig of soda.

  “Says the man who stays up all night watching over this sleepy town.” Gray stoked the fire, pausing to let a cluster of sparks escape into the night, before turning one log.

  “We’re a pitiful pair,” Carlos said, stretching his legs out. “Bachelors acting like parents, yet unwilling to take the plunge.”

  “At least I gave a serious relationship a try,” Gray countered. “You? I don’t dare call a sheriff chicken, but I call it as I see it.”

  “You’re skiing in shark-infested waters, buddy. I’m not afraid. I’m just too smart to go down that road again.”

  “So, there was someone?”

  Carlos took a long drink and shrugged. He’d never mentioned a past relationship before.

  “A very, very long time ago. It didn’t end well. Let’s leave it at that.”

  He could respect not wanting to talk about one’s past. He jerked his head toward the waves.

  “Darla’s a nice person. I’m sure she’d add doughnuts to her menu just for you,” Gray said.

  Carlos finished off his soda in one gulp, crushed the can and chucked it at him. Gray laughed and caught it midair.

  “This is war.” Carlos grinned, then sobered and shook his head. “Nothing against Darla, but I’m just not in the market. Besides, I’m pretty sure I’m not her type.”

  Mandi and the others jogged over, kicking sand up in their wake. Everyone took their drink of choice out of the cooler and gathered around. Most ignored the chairs altogether and plopped down on the sand.

  “Thanks for calling off the sharks, Dr. Dolittle,” Darla teased.

  “The powers of communication that come with being a vet. What can I say?”

  Mandi’s face twitched when she looked over at him. Okay, fine. She had made it quite clear during their relationship that he had communication issues. At least when it came to her. Obviously, he did better with animals. Then again, pets were loyal. They didn’t abandon their loved ones.

  “Hey, guys. Room for more?” Chanda asked. Nora and Gavin were with her and Nora was carrying a box that looked like it had flowers in it.

  “Absolutely. How are the kittens doing?” Mandi asked. She’d asked him the same question only an hour ago.

  “They’re little troupers. Gaining weight already and doing much better,” Nora said. She pulled out a small wreath and passed around the box of loose flowers and pieces of driftwood and shells. She handed the wreath to Mandi. “This is for you. It’s completely natural and biodegradable, made with things from my organic garden. No glue or foam. Just reed grass for tying. I thought each of us could add a flower, driftwood or shell to it, while remembering something we loved about Nana. Then, maybe in the next few days, you and Gray could take it out far enough in a boat and release it.”

  Mandi’s nose turned red and the rims of her eyes pooled. Gray’s eyes stung and his chest tightened. He noticed that Mandi didn’t bring up his supposed fear of boats.

  “I can’t express how thoughtful and meaningful this is, Nora,” Mandi said. “You made it? You’re incredible.”

  “This is really kind of you,” Gray said. “You spend so much time working at the vet clinic, I don’t know how you manage to create stuff like this and keep up with that garden of yours.”

  “It’s just a hobby,” Nora said.

  “She’s super talented and overly humble,” Darla added. “You guys remember that wedding cake I made for the Delcatos? Guess who put the flowers on it?”

  “You’re not quitting on me and opening a flower shop, are you?” Gray asked, only half-serious.

  “Never. I love helping animals too much. They keep me coming back even when my boss is being an ornery pain in the butt.”

  Everyone laughed at Gray and he conceded the barb by raising his bottle in a self-toast. Mandi got up and gave Nora a hug, then the group quieted as the wreath began making its way around the circle. Mandi insisted that Nora begin the ritual. Nora took a sprig of lavender from the box and tucked it into the wreath.

  “Nana was generous...”

  “...and wise. Always giving needed advice,” Darla said, taking the wreath from Nora and tying a shell to it. She passed it to Gavin.

  “She believed in charity and random acts of kindness,” he said, adding a sand dollar.

  “...to all living things. Not just people,” Eve added on her turn. She fastened a yellow carnation in place.

  “She was pretty spunky and hilarious, if you ask me. Always said laughter was medicine. I agree with her.” Chanda added a miniature sunflower and tied a bow around it using a reed grass.

  “She was a bit of a daredevil, too. I’m not even sure if she knew how to knit, but she sure could parasail and she was ruthless on a Jet Ski,” Darla chimed in, even if she’d had her turn and wasn’t holding the wreath. “Not exactly what you’d expect from most women her age. But who am I to say? She told me that yoga class kept her young and fit, but I don’t know. I do yoga but have never been able to jet ski successfully.”

  “You’re right in that she was unexpected,” Carlos said. “Kind of like Mary Poppins. Full of surprises.” He added driftwood to the wreath. “I can’t remember how she talked me into a bet, but she beat me at target shooting once. And I trained in the military and for police work. I never wagered a bet with her again.”

  “Where’d she learn to do that?” Gray asked.

  “Said she used to hunt before she went vegan.”

  “Seriously? Did she ever take you hunting when you were a kid, Mandi?” Gray asked. Mandi had never mentioned hunting.

  Mandi shook her head. “Nope. She was a vegetarian, and later vegan, during my lifetime.”

  “Well, as good a shot as she was, she must have done quite a bit of shooting before you were born,” Carlos said.

  “A woman of many talents and a big heart,” Nora said, bringing the box of flowers and shells closer to Mandi and Gray. Mandi took out a red rose and slipped the stem between the twigs that made the wreath.

  “She just wanted everyone to love themselves,” Mandi said in almost a whisper. “And to be loved...”

  Gray took the wreath from her, his fingertips brushing hers. He hesitated, then tucked in a sprig of baby’s breath. He knew it was his imagination, heightened by fire and memories, but he could almost feel Nana’s spirit prodding him...daring him to say it.

  “...and to love each other.”

  He didn’t dare look directly at Mandi to see her reaction. He simply handed the wreath back to her.

  “Amen to that,” Darla said.

  Everyone voiced their agreement, then silence blanketed the group. For several minutes, the only sound was that of the crackling fire and fizzling surf. Mandi was the first to break the silence.

 

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