One Look: A grumpy, single dad small town romance(35)

I pulled out the seat and plopped next to him, then tore a fresh sheet of notebook paper out of his spiral. I glanced over the syllabus, making notes on due dates, identifying longer projects that needed to be broken into manageable pieces, and separating everything into neat little rows I could put into one central place for him.

Kevin looked on quietly. His voice barely above a whisper, he said, “Thanks, Lark.”

Affection for this sweet, lost young man swelled in my chest. I stifled a goofy grin and nodded.





“Now this I could get used to.” My face tipped up to the summer sun. The sand was warm beneath my towel, and the waves crashed only a few feet from where Penny, the boys, and I had plopped down on the beach.

Tourist season was in full swing, and in the three weeks I’d been Wyatt’s assistant and all-around go-to gal, we had all settled into a happy routine. It was far and away less stressful and more fun than the Sugar Bowl had been. Most days were filled with keeping Penny occupied and checking in on the others.

Michael and Joey had gotten part-time summer jobs working the snack shack on the beach—they claimed it was to make a few extra dollars, but I knew it was because working at the Sand Dollar allowed them to meet a lot of girls who were spending time at the beach with friends or family. They were good kids, but they were also nineteen-and twenty-year-old boys.

Penny was next to me, building a sand castle while Michael and Kevin were down the beach playing sand volleyball with another rowdy group of kids. I glanced at the Sand Dollar, and when Joey saw me, he flashed a grin and an awkward thumbs-up. His pinkie was still bandaged, though I suspected it was fine . . . he just liked when girls asked about his devastating injury.

I rolled my eyes and laughed to myself; then a shadow fell across my lap. I peered up into the frowning face of my boss.

“Hey, Oscar. What’s up?”

“I saw my calendar had blocked off this afternoon as Beach Meeting.”

I grinned. “I’m glad you saw that it was also marked Important and took that note seriously.”

He only grunted in response, but when Penny noticed him and flung herself into his arms, he softened. Sand flew everywhere, including in my face, and I sputtered and wiped at my thighs.

“Easy, Pickle. You’re getting sand all over Lark.”

“Daddy . . . it’s the beach.” After she released him, she turned to me. “Lark, can I go back to the playset?”

I glanced at Wyatt, a little uneasy that she was asking me instead of her dad. “As long as it’s okay with your dad.”

He looked out over the sand to the playground crawling with children. “Stay where we can see you.”

Without another word, she was off like a shot. I continued to brush at the sand that had piled up on my towel.

Wyatt untucked a towel he had stuffed under his arm and laid it beside me. He was in a T-shirt and swim trunks, along with flip-flops. While he didn’t dress up every day, this was much more casual than the Dockers and football polos he usually wore when he traveled into work. He was casually undone in the sexiest way, and my insides went melty at the sight of him. But even his dark sunglasses couldn’t hide his frown.

“You don’t have to stay . . . if you don’t want to.”

I looked out over the water and watched as kids and families played in the waves of Lake Michigan. “Kicking me out already?”

“No, I . . . I just don’t want you to think that you’re required to be here. You’re off the clock.”

“Ah,” I said, easing back on my elbows. “Don’t worry.” I looked over the top of my sunglasses and winked at him—then had to swallow my smile when I noticed how his jaw worked in response to my playfulness. “I won’t charge you.”

Truth was, I felt guilty taking his money. Penny was a riot to hang out with and really easy. The boys were, well, overgrown children, really, but nothing I couldn’t handle. They respected me and checked in when I asked them to. I think it also helped that I didn’t always let Wyatt in on everything they were doing. We were operating strictly under the “you can get into a little trouble, just don’t get caught” kind of parameters.

Within minutes Penny got bored of the playground equipment and found her way back to the beach toys a few feet away.

I reached into my overstuffed beach bag, around rogue Cheetos and a racy paperback. “It’s getting hot, Pen, we should probably reapply your sunscreen.”

When I lifted the bottle up, Wyatt plucked it from my hands. “I got it.”

Penny trudged through the sand and plopped in front of him. “I hate sunscreen.”

I laughed. “Me too, but when you’re my age, I promise, you’ll be glad you used it.”

“Why?”

“It keeps your skin safe and helps prevent wrinkles.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “I guess it helps you not become a shriveled-up prune.”

“Why?”

“Penny.” Wyatt’s tone was terse, and she sulked at him, cutting short her favorite game of Why.

Penny looked at me. “Well, if I have to, so do you.”

I smiled at Penny, loving her tenacity. “You’re right. I need some too.”

I picked up the lotion and squirted a blob on my palm, then worked it into my shoulders and arms. From behind my sunglasses, I sneaked a peek at Wyatt, whose jaw flexed, but he stared straight ahead as he finished Penny’s back, and she scrambled to get up and play.