Love Starts with Elle(38)

Since their dance, however, his dreams of Ava had returned, and often he woke up restless, feeling guilty.

He punched the pillow behind his head and clicked on the beside lamp. A yellow glow illuminated his corner. Checking on Tracey-Love, he peeled back the sheet, pressing his palm to her golden but strawlike hair.

You’re missing her, Ava. She’s beautiful.

In the last eight months, he’d experienced a lifetime of emotions, ending with him uprooting his career and child, returning to a place of his childhood innocence. Even though his new life without Ava took him farther away from the life they’d shared, in the quiet moments he missed her and wished he could hold her one more time.



In the expanded dining room of Frogmore Café, Beaufort’s little dining treasure on the corner of Harrington and Bay, Penny Collins sang from the middle of the fresh lumber stage as Elle slid into the booth in the back with Julianne, Rio, and her friend Jessica Cimowsky for a girls’ night out.

Elle liked the homey familiarity of the Frogmore. When Caroline owned the place, she’d spent weekday afternoons in the quiet dining room, talking with her friend, eating from Andy Castleton’s yummy menu.

“Jess, where was it Stu Green dumped the ladies’ room toilet when he was fixing the plumbing?” Elle asked.

Jess laughed, pointing. “Somewhere along the back wall. Oh, that was funny. And when he could spell renaissance?”

“Never judge a book by its cover,” Elle said, reaching for a menu.

Caroline had insisted Elle add Stu to her Operation Wedding Day list. “Sure,” Elle had agreed. “But he has to be able to spell renaissance.”

Stu Green not only spelled renaissance, he spouted its history.

“The question now,” Julianne said, peering over her menu, “is if Heath McCord can spell renaissance.”

“What?” Elle balked. “You’re crazy. One, I’m sure he can. He’s a lawyer and a writer. Two, I’m not asking him, hint, hint. He’s a friend. Period.”

“Heath McCord?” Jess echoed. “The man renting your cottage?”

Julianne nodded with pinched expression. “Have you seen him? Dang handsome.” She arched her brows. “Sexy.”

Elle stopped her with a hard glare. “He’s a friend.” She’d kept her wedding night dance with Heath a secret. What would Jules do with that information?

“Good-looking how?” Jess wondered. “In a classic Hollywood way? Or more like Matthew McConaughy?”

“More like former jock turned single father with a touch of sophistication.” Elle stopped, shifting her gaze between her sister and friend.

Jules made an “Oh my” face. “Someone has thought a lot about this.”

Elle studied the menu she already knew by heart. “I have a lot of time on my hands.”

Just in time, Mercy Bea, the Frogmore’s senior waitress, set down a basket of Bubba’s Buttery Biscuits, cracking her gum. “Y’all ready to order? Elle, darling, I sure am sorry about the wedding.”

She closed her menu, putting it back in the holder. “Sometimes things don’t turn out like we plan, Mercy Bea.”

The blonde-bombshellish waitress pointed to herself with an exaggerated movement. “You’re looking at the queen of things not turning out. The pot roast is really good tonight. Andy outdone himself.”

Elle’s stomach rumbled, but she wasn’t quite ready for pot roast casserole. “I’ll have a salad and grilled chicken.”

“All righty.” Mercy Bea scribbled their order while chatting about her young sons and how much teen boys cost. On her way to the kitchen, she greeted a new customer.

“Danny Simmons, sit. Take a load off. Good to see you. What’ll you have to drink?”

“Tea sounds good, Mercy Bea.” Danny started for the table adjacent to the back booth. “Hey, Elle, Julianne, didn’t see y’all there.”

“Evening, Danny,” Elle said. In his mid-forties, Danny Simmons was a Beaufort County businessman, philanthropist, and golfing buddy of Daddy’s. His blue eyes crinkled beneath Ralph Lauren-like silver hair. “Are you by yourself? Care to join us.”

He stood stiffly, like a little boy unsure if he wanted to sit at the adult table, gazing at Julianne—who seemed intent on jellying up a biscuit for Rio—then at Jess. “Looks like you’re full up here.”

“I don’t mind scooting around.” Elle shoved against Jess.

Jess shoved against Julianne. Who did not budge. Instead she spread jelly on another biscuit. Rio had three on her plate already.

“Thanks, but I’ve got some work to do.” Danny backed away. “So I’ll just sit over here at this table here. Nice to see y’all. Sorry to hear how things went with Jeremiah, Elle.”

“Thank you, Danny. I’m healing.”

Elle pinched Julianne’s arm when the man moved out of earshot. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Ow, Elle.” Jules jerked her arm away with enough force to swing her dangling earrings against her neck and hair. “What did you want me to do, jump up and down?”

Elle looked at Jess, whose expression reflected her own. “Do you have a problem with Danny Simmons?”

“Now why would I have a problem with the man?” Julianne broke open another biscuit.