The Way To A Soldier's Heart. GINA WILKINS
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what she’d asked, but maybe his answer had been unintentionally evasive. Before he could say anything else, if he’d planned to, they were interrupted by a group of Elle’s friends who swarmed around them, settling into the rapidly filling riser seating with noisy greetings and laughter. Elle introduced Shane, then rattled off names to him she doubted he would even begin to remember. The concert began a few minutes later and any further conversation was forestalled by the volume of the music from the stage.
What the performances lacked in polish, they more than made up for in enthusiasm. Elle and her friends filled the breaks between sets with light prattle about kids, sports, festival food and the acts they’d seen. Shane fit in well with the loose-knit group, chatting easily with the other guys, deftly deflecting questions that crept toward the overly personal.
Elle had almost forgotten what it was like to spend an evening with adults, to laugh and flirt and feel young and attractive. As much as she adored being a mother, this impromptu concert was still a pleasant break. Maybe it was time to date again, at least occasionally, now that Charlotte was a little older and Elle’s mom was so happily available to babysit. She wasn’t ready for anything serious—but it wouldn’t hurt to have a little grown-up fun every once in a while.
A cool night breeze swirled through the amphitheater, ruffling her hair and slipping down the loose opening of her tunic. She shivered, thinking she should have worn a light cardigan.
Shane started to shrug out of his leather jacket. “Are you cold? You want to wear this?”
“No, that’s okay, I—”
But he’d already draped the jacket over her shoulders. “Sounds like the next act is starting.”
Aware of a couple of her friends watching, she smiled and kept the jacket wrapped around her rather than arguing. It did feel good. And it held just a hint of spicy scent. Aftershave? Nice.
She looked up at him, finding him gazing back at her as she unconsciously stroked the soft leather with her free hand. Turning toward the stage, she pretended to focus on the band wailing into their microphones.
Maybe if Shane asked her out on a real date, she’d say yes. He’d probably be in town occasionally if he got the Wind Shadow account. She wasn’t expecting anything serious to develop, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t strongly attracted to him. She sensed the attraction wasn’t one-sided. So...why not?
The concert ended at ten with the mayor thanking everyone for their attendance and wishing them all a happy and safe Halloween.
“And starting November 1, all the jack-o’-lanterns and orange-and-black bunting here in the park will be replaced by snowflakes and candy canes and red-and-green ribbons.”
Lori Malloy, owner of a gift and souvenir shop located a few doors down from The Perkery, laughed lightly as she made the prediction to Elle and their other friends. “Actually, my staff and I started putting out some of our new holiday merchandise two weeks ago.”
Pragmatic accountant Bob Hodgkin groaned. “It’s too soon to be talking about Christmas! We’re still over three weeks away from Thanksgiving.”
“It’s never too soon for Christmas,” his wife piped in. “I love every minute of it.”
While the others fell into a spirited discussion about the proper date to put up Christmas decorations, Elle glanced up at Shane with a smile. “I’ve had a nice time,” she said quietly, “but I really should be getting home now. I have to get a very early start in the morning.”
“Of course.”
“You need a lift home, Elle?”
“Thank you, Lori, but Shane has already offered me a ride.” It wasn’t all that far to her house, but would have required crossing a couple of busy streets on foot in the dark and in post-festival traffic, so she would take him up on that offer.
Six pairs of eyes turned immediately to the outsider in their midst. Though he’d been graciously welcomed, it was obvious he was still being assessed. Elle bit back a smile at the clear warning being implicitly sent: We watch out for our own.
Judging by the way Shane blinked, he got the message.
He walked with her to his car, which he’d parked close to the north entrance of the park. She handed him his jacket before climbing in, then buckled her seat belt as Shane slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “Turn left out of the parking lot, then right at the next intersection.”
He put the car into gear. “Got it.”
What should have been a ten-minute drive came to an abrupt stop on Salt Marsh Avenue, where both lanes of post-festival traffic were brought to a complete stop by a three-car wreck not far ahead. Craning her neck to peer around the vehicles in front of them, Elle could see flashing lights just arriving to the scene. “This could take a while,” she said with a groan.
“I hope no one’s hurt.”
She could see shadowy figures climbing out of all three crumpled cars, illuminated by streetlamps and headlights from the cars idling around them. “From what I can tell, it looks like everyone’s okay. I think a couple of those cars are going to have to be towed out of the way, though. Unfortunately, there’s no alternate route from where we’re sitting. If we’d turned right out of the park instead of left...”
Shane shrugged. “So we’ll wait. Maybe they’ll get a lane cleared quickly.”
She gave him a rueful smile. “Traffic jams aren’t exactly common in our sleepy little town. Even during peak season. I could walk from here if you—”
“No reason for that. Obviously, I’m not going anywhere soon. This gives us a chance to talk a bit more, anyway. What did you think of the concert?”
“It was fun. Not my type of music for everyday listening, but I enjoyed it tonight.”
They chatted about music for a few minutes, finding common ground in a fondness for smooth jazz combined with good wine. Elle spent a pleasant moment privately fantasizing about sitting by an outdoor fire pit with Shane, wineglasses in hand, softly wailing sax playing from hidden speakers—the type of daydream she hadn’t allowed herself to indulge in for a while.
Headed toward the blocked intersection, a police car equipped with strobing lights and a whooping siren threaded carefully through the line of unmoving vehicles, giving Elle hope that an officer would soon be directing the flow of traffic. Shane waited until the noise had died down before speaking again. “You said your mom moved in with you after your divorce. Do you mind my asking how long that’s been?”
“I’ve been divorced a little more than two years.”
“Does your ex-husband see Charlotte often?”
It made sense, of course, that Shane would assume her ex was Charlotte’s father. And though she owed no explanations, Shane had been candid with her when she’d asked about his family. Besides, she had never planned to hide how Charlotte had come into her life.
“Glenn wasn’t Charlotte’s father,” she said a bit more bluntly than she’d intended. “I adopted her on my own shortly after the divorce. He’s never seen her.”
After a moment, Shane commented, “Definitely his loss.”
She nodded. “Very much so.”
“He wasn’t interested in fatherhood, I take it.”
She shrugged. “I thought he was. We talked about it a lot during our marriage, while he attended law school. He was even involved in the initial steps toward finding a reputable adoption agency and beginning the registration process. But then he suddenly announced that he wasn’t daddy material. And, by the way, he no longer wanted to be a husband, either. He left the law firm he worked for here and moved to California to live a single attorney’s life on the west coast. Maybe he watched a few too many Baywatch reruns.”
She’d spoken lightly to gloss