Second Chance Summer

He was here for the duration. That’s how SEALs operated. They didn’t let people down. No matter the cost.

* * *

“Did you have a pleasant time, dear?”

Rachel pushed through the outside door to the screen porch and dropped her tote bag onto a wicker chair before responding to her great-aunt’s greeting. “It doesn’t get much better than an afternoon on a Jekyll Island beach.”

“True enough. Why do you think I moved here twelve years ago?”

She surveyed the woman across from her. Eleanor Kavanagh’s driver’s license might list her age as seventy-four, but one glance at her trim figure, wedge-cut blond hair and fashionable capris busted any stereotypical notions of the term elderly. “Don’t you ever miss Cincinnati?”

Her aunt let loose with an unladylike snort. “Not a lick. I didn’t have any complaints about my life there, mind you. I had a fine job that provided a steady income and a comfortable retirement—but being an accountant can’t hold a candle to running an art gallery.” She patted the retriever as he settled at her feet. “I see you kept Bandit dry.”

“It was a struggle.”

“I imagine.” Her features softened as she stroked the dog. “Good thing I didn’t go. Once he turns those dark brown eyes on me, I’m a goner. They’re impossible to resist.”

For some reason an image of the man from the beach materialized in Rachel’s mind. Though his eyes had been hidden behind sunglasses, she had a feeling they were hard to resist, too.

“Rachel?”

She blinked and refocused on her aunt. “Sorry. I drifted for a minute.”

“I noticed. I asked if there were many people on the beach.”

“No. I had it almost to myself.” She claimed one of the wicker rocking chairs on the porch.

“I thought you might. I’ve been sitting here for a while and I only saw one other person cross the access bridge over the dunes. He was leaving.”

Rachel set the chair in motion. “Yes. I noticed him.” No need to recount the whole incident with the Frisbee—or to mention her brief, charged interchange with the man.

“I couldn’t get a clear look at him from this distance, but he seemed fairly young...from my perspective, at any rate.” Her aunt swirled the ice in her glass of lemonade. “I don’t see many solitary young men around here. I wonder if he’s married.”

“No.” At her immediate response, Rachel frowned. For some strange reason, the image of his bare left hand was clear in her mind. “I mean, he wasn’t wearing a ring. But a lot of guys don’t. His wife might have gone shopping.”

“That’s not a big draw here.”

“True. There isn’t a mall in sight.”

“But we do have a century-old hotel that serves high tea and hosts croquet tournaments on the lawn, plus a wonderful restored historic district. I’ll take charm over shopping any day.”

“I’m with you.” At least her aunt was off the subject of the muscular swimmer.

“Speaking of charm...from the glimpse I had, that young man appeared to be quite handsome. You must have gotten a close-up look, if you could check for a ring.”

So much for any hope of changing the subject.

As warmth rose on her cheeks, Rachel leaned down to brush a few grains of sand off one of her flip-flops. “I didn’t check for a ring. I just happened to notice his bare hand when we exchanged a few words.” Maybe Aunt El wouldn’t spot the telltale flush.

No such luck.

“I do believe you might have gotten a bit too much sun.” Eleanor appraised her. “Your face is pink. Remember to take it easy for the first few days, until you get acclimated. And don’t forget the sunscreen.”

“Duly noted. With my fair complexion, I make liberal use of it at home in Richmond, too.”

Her aunt dismissed that comment with a wave. “Sun in the city and sun on the beach are two very different things. That young man certainly had a nice tan.”

Oh, brother.

Rising, Rachel reached for her tote bag. “I think I’ll go ahead and change. I have to be at the hotel in an hour.”

“When’s your first program?”

“Next week.”

“You’ve only been here two days—I wish you’d take some time to unwind before you dive into work again. That’s why I didn’t schedule you at the gallery right away.”

Rachel slung her tote bag over her shoulder and bent down to pet Bandit as she passed. “I’ll have a week off. Any more downtime, and I’d go crazy. Besides, I love being around children, so it’s hardly work. And I’m used to being busy.”

“Too busy, if you ask me.”

“Busy is good.”

“Not when it’s an excuse.” Her aunt gave her a shrewd look over the rim of her lemonade glass as she took a sip.

Straightening up, Rachel planted one hand on her hip. “For what?”

“Getting on with your life.”

She exhaled slowly. This was not a discussion she wanted to have during this vacation—but her aunt’s serious expression told her that while she might be able to escape it today, the topic was going to come up again.

“I have gotten on with my life. I have a great job helping kids discover their inner artist. I’m active at church. I have a lovely circle of friends. I prefer to think of my life as full rather than busy.”

Her aunt watched her for a moment. “When’s the last time you went on a date?”

Ah. So that’s what this was about. She should have guessed. Aunt El had dropped a few subtle hints last summer about the importance of romance, which she’d ignored. But there was a disconcerting determination in her manner this year.

Perhaps it wasn’t going to be such a relaxing summer after all.

“It’s only been three years, Aunt El.” She tightened her grip on the strap of the tote bag, her voice subdued. “Someday I might go down that road again. But I’ve only just begun to entertain that idea. I’m nowhere near ready to act on it.”

Eleanor took another sip of her lemonade. “Well, you know best, of course. I just don’t want to see you end up alone. The way you love children, you should have a houseful of your own.”

A twinge of pain echoed in her heart. That had been the plan, once upon a time. But she and Mark had barely gotten past the launch stage.

She didn’t want to talk about that, either.

“Maybe it’s not in the cards.”