What an unnerving outing this had been.
First, Charley had asked disconcerting questions about her life in New York, then segued to Aaron’s decision to leave the corporate world and find a new use for his skills. Next up had been the quote at The Perfect Blend about how missed opportunities could define your life. Now the encounter with Mr. Howard, who’d shared his plan to retool his skills for retirement.
All of which had further disrupted her already shaky peace of mind.
She circled around a shelf near the door, pausing to look back at the shop.
It was a decent-sized space. Once all the shelving was gone, this could be converted to any number of uses if someone with vision came along. A clothing boutique. A yoga center. A hair salon/spa.
A dance studio.
She blinked.
What?
Where hadthatridiculous thought come from?
There wouldn’t possibly be enough business in a town this size to support a studio.
Could there?
No. Hope Harbor was tiny.
However ... there were other communities in the area, a number of them sizable. Like Coos Bay. But from what she’d learned while researching places for Isabel to take lessons, that town already had dance studios. To draw students to Hope Harbor from a wide geographic area, a studio would have to offer something extra special to be sustainable.
Like a teacher who’d been a principal dancer with one of the most prestigious ballet companies in the world.
She sucked in a breath.
Could this be one of those opportunities Fitzgerald had been talking about? One that might define her life if she passed it up, by eliminating any chance to explore a relationship with the most interesting man she’d ever met?
But letting a few sparks influence a life-changing decision would be foolish. While a dance studio could be in her future, when and where that happened should be based on facts and logic, not intuition and hormones.
She pushed through the door and into the blustery conditions outside. Tucked her chin down against the wind and hurried toward Eye of the Beholder, her original destination.
And tried to erase from her mind the hardware store detour that had planted the seed of an idea and left her more unsettled than ever.
Even though she had a feeling that was going to be a losing battle.
26
The bride was lovely, the setting at Pelican Point Lighthouse was spectacular, Mother Nature had reined in the wind and painted the sky blue—but Aaron couldn’t focus on any of that as he sat beside Devyn while the happy couple exchanged vows with the endless ocean as a backdrop.
Because he kept sneaking peeks at his date.
Date.
A delicious spark zipped through him.
Dangerous as it was to admit, that term had an appealing ring to it—even if they’d agreed to keep everything casual and low-key today.
Yet Devyn’s figure-skimming silky blue dress was anything but casual and low-key, the neckline dipping low enough to draw attention to the delicate hollow of her throat and the smooth expanse of skin below her collarbone where a single pearl on a gold chain rested.
The graceful upsweep of her hair was also perfection.
She was elegant. Stunning. Class personified.
And the sweet, gentle curve of her lips while the couple said their “I do’s” seemed to hold a hint of yearning that mirrored his own.
