"I don't know about that," Juniper said. "He seemed like the kind of guy that was looking for a body to keep his bed warm for the next couple of days."
"I don't mean to be rude, especially because Tara really is a nice person." Sterling held the door for her. "However, knowing Tara, he might have found one. She's not the settling down type."
"I think she's just afraid," Juniper said. "I'm guessing someone hurt her in the past, and she's still holding onto those feelings."
"I suppose that's possible."
They stepped onto the porch, and Juniper locked up the house. He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her toward his vehicle. It's what a man did when he took a woman on a date. He really needed to get out of his head. He was a grown man who'd been with more women than he cared to count.
He held the truck door for her. She climbed up onto the seat, and he closed the door behind her and went around to his side.
The drive to the Crab Shack was two and a half miles of road that ran the length of the inlet. He jogged this section of road all the time. Looped through the town, up over the bridge, down the other side of the inlet, through the trailer park, and back. Driving it seemed odd. But he did it more times than he cared to admit.
The sun had dropped below the line of the cypress on the west side, and the sky over the water had gone the color of a healing bruise. A great blue heron stood in the shallows by the boat ramp. A pelican sat on a piling beside it and watched Sterling's truck go past with the bored judgment pelicans had for everything.
She rested her elbow on the open window and held a few fingers out into the wind. The radio was on low, some old George Strait song he half-knew the words to.
He kept his eyes on the road and tried not to look at the line of her neck where her hair had blown back.
He looked twice anyway.
The Crab Shack parking lot consisted of crushed shell, similar to every parking lot in Calusa Cove, and the building stood long and low with cypress siding, a silver clay roof, stringlights lining the eaves, and a covered deck that stretched out over the water.
He parked under a slash pine at the back of the lot, walked around to Juniper's door. Much to his surprise, she'd waited, and he helped her down.
"It's a beautiful night," she said, hand still in his. "Not too muggy."
"I'm glad for that because I was hoping to sit out on the water."
"That's always nice."
Inside the front door, Marisol's cousin Lucia ran the host stand. She looked up and smiled wide.
"I was told you two were coming," Lucia said. "Hayes left me a note. Told me to save you a spot out on the deck." She snagged a couple of menus from under the stand. "Right this way." She led them through the bar room and out the side door onto the deck. Half the tables were taken. The other half stretched off into the dusk under the string lights. A breeze came in off the water and pushed the heat sideways, which felt nice against his skin. Not to mention it helped taper off his pounding pulse.
A local man had set up at the far end of the patio with his guitar and played a familiar song.
Lucia walked them past the dock railing to a high-top table set against the rail with a perfect view down the inlet. Sterling held Juniper's chair. He registered, on his way to his own, the people he knew in the room. Hayes Bennett and his wife Chloe at a table along the inside rail, four chairs, but only two of them filled—date night. Hayes looked up and smiled. Chloe wiggled her fingers.
Sterling nodded. Juniper waved.
He'd have to thank Hayes for the table later.
At the small bar that ran along the outside wall of the deck, Silas Monroe sat on a stool with a glass of red wine. Beside him,Jack Mallor sat with what looked like a bourbon neat. The two old men weren’t even pretending to mind their own business. They watched Sterling and Juniper get seated with open delight.
Silas raised his glass as Sterling pulled out his chair. "Well, well, well. Sterling Fox. On a date. With a woman who can do better," he said so loudly that the pelican perched on the boat two slips away turned its head.
"Hey, Silas." Sterling wasn't left any other option but to at least acknowledge the man.
"It is aboutdamntime, son. This is paper-worthy. I hope someone's covering it."
"There's no story here." Sterling reached for the water glass and chugged.
"Let the love birds have their dinner," Jack said.
"I'm wishing them well." Silas laughed. "Have fun, you two, and don't do anything that might require a shotgun."
"You're being a nuisance, is what you're being." Jack laughed. Hard.
