Sea Glass Castle (The Carolina Coast Series Book 3) Page 11

  His admission hit Sophia low in her belly, finding it endearing that his wife’s happiness took such precedence in his life. And then he went and tried to do the same with her and she ruined it by cold-shouldering him for it.

  Clearing her throat, Sophia said, “No, I’m sorry. You did nothing wrong. It’s on me and my personal issues.” She wondered if she would ever be able to participate in a healthy relationship, or if the toxic relationship with Ty had poisoned any hope of it happening.

  “Okay.” Wes nodded and then scanned the room. He seemed ready to move on to another topic, but Sophia knew she needed to reassure him that it most certainly was one of those “it’s not you; it’s me” situations.

  She briefly placed her hand on top of his. “Thank you for trying to make me feel better. That was very considerate of you, and it actually worked until I went and made it awkward.”

  One side of his mouth kicked up, producing that darn dimple. “I did?”

  Sophia snickered. “Yes, you did with your unruly mouth.” She lowered her voice and said, “That’s so unbecoming of you, Doctor.”

  “Your husky voice is uniquely appealing,” he admitted out of nowhere, flooring her again. She never knew what to expect to come from his lips anymore.

  She wrinkled her nose. “I sound like I have a permanent cold.”

  “I like it.” A blush warmed his cheeks as he removed his arm from behind her and stood, clearly trying to avoid round two of awkward moments for the day. His attention moved to the door as if he were planning to make an escape. Before he moved, a squeal came from Collin’s room.

  The little guy came racing down the hallway and into the living room while waving his underwear in the air like a flag. “I not wet ’em!”

  “That’s great!” Wes squatted down and helped Collin slide his underwear back on.

  “I get a caw now?”

  Wes chuckled and ruffled her excited son’s curls. “Sure. . . . Wait. . . . Did you peepee?”

  Collin bobbed his head exuberantly.

  “Where?” Wes asked slowly.

  Collin took off toward to his room with Sophia and Wes on his heels. He pointed to the tiny garbage can in the corner.

  Wes moved over and peered inside before giving her a sidelong glance. “At least he didn’t go on the floor.”

  The hilarity of the moment hit her and sent Sophia into a fit of laughter. She laughed until her sides hurt and her face was damp with tears. Wes watched her in awe for a few beats before joining in.

  When she regained her composure, she pointed at the offensive problem. “You found it, you clean it.”

  Surprisingly, Wes scooped up the can and walked out of the room without protest. As he passed by her, he taunted, “That’s progress, miss, whether you want to admit it or not. He didn’t wet ’em.” The last part was mimicked in a toddler voice, cracking Sophia up all over again.

  After the can was washed out with bleach and Wes went over how to use the real potty once more, he opened the giant container and handed Collin a car. He then produced a book from one of his bags about a super kid learning to go to the potty and read it to Collin while they all sat on the couch. It was a silly rhyming book and Wes kept erupting into boyish giggles while trying to read it straight-faced.

  In the midst of the giggle-reading, Collin grabbed Wes’s face with both hands and mushed until Wes had fish lips. “’Top laughin’, Wes. I not know what you say.”

  Needless to say, it took a long time for both Collin and Sophia to settle down later that night after Wes left. The ache in her jaw from grinning gave her a reprieve from the ache in her heart, and for that she was thankful for the silliest night she and her son had enjoyed in quite a while.

  Weston Sawyer, unbeknownst to him, had given Collin the best birthday gift of all, and it had nothing to do with the contents of those three shopping bags.

  No, it had everything to do with the time spent making memories that were filled with laughter and grins. Not tears and grimaces.

  10

  Sunset Cove was beginning to feel like more trouble than it was worth. As Wes stared down at one of the local thorns in his side, he had to wrestle with his manners to keep them front and foremost. Said thorn had shown up under the guise of delivering baked goods several long minutes ago with a sidekick in tow. His eyes flicked to Dalma and took in the blue three-piece suit she was wearing with a pair of camouflage rain boots. Blinking several times, he refocused on what Bertie was yammering on about.

  “They said—” Bertie began with her eyes squinted.

  “And who are they?” he interrupted.

  Bertie overlooked his sarcastic question as she shoved the platter of cookies into his hand. “That girl is in need of some help. They said she’s gone and caught anorexia.” She tsked and patted the side of her fluffy gray hairdo. It was freshly teased and had a purplish tint it didn’t have the last time she visited to deliver brownies and gossip on some other person he’d never heard of before.

  “Miss Bertie, I can assure you, anorexia isn’t something you catch. I can also assure you that Sophia isn’t anorexic. It’s clearly been noted by you time and time again that she’s gone through a few trials lately—but you know what? It’s neither of our business to be discussing her personal life.” Wes hoped his aloofness mixed with professionalism was enough to get the nosy women off his porch.

  Dalma reached over and swiped a cookie off the plate.

  Bertie tsked. “Dalma Jean, those are for Dr. Sawyer.”

  Dalma tilted her head to the side and openly checked Wes out as she chewed. “He’s fit as a fiddle. Ain’t no way he’s going to eat these. Plus, he’s so sweet on our Sophia Grace that I bet there’s no room for any more sugar.” She gave him a knowing wink.

  Wes was about to dispute her comment, but then he remembered Sunset Cove was under the illusion that he was sweet on Sophia. He also knew deep down it wasn’t entirely an illusion any longer.

  “Heard you took her out to dinner a couple weeks ago?” Bertie peered up at him as she caught Dalma’s hand going in for another cookie.

  “Yes, ma’am. And I can confirm the fact that Sophia ate.” Not much, but Bertie didn’t have to know that. He recalled a flyer that was in today’s newspaper and said without thinking, “Actually, we’re taking a cooking class together this Friday night at the rec center.”

  “So you two are an item?” Bertie smirked.

  “An item is singular. There are two of us.” Wes offered that nonsense with a wink of his own as he slid Dalma another cookie and took a step inside. “Thank you for the cookies. I’ll be sure to share them with Sophia.”

  The old bird gave him a sly look. “You do that, sugar. See you soon.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He closed the door before she started up again. Walking to the kitchen, he placed the cookies on the counter and glared at them for all the things they stood for. He drummed his fingers against the cool marble and contemplated how to talk Sophia into going on another date with him. She’d remained firm on no more fake dates, and the phone numbers had picked right back up again. No matter how clear and up-front he was with each woman, it only seemed to be taken as a challenge.

  Of course, Sophia thought that was the funniest thing. It wasn’t.

  “What do I have to barter with?” Wes mumbled to himself, looking around the kitchen. “Nothing. I got nothing.” Suddenly yesterday’s incident came to mind, so he unplugged his cell phone where it was charging by the coffeepot.

  Two rings in, that lovely voice answered with a terse “What?”

  “Hello to you too, Sophia. I need your help.”

  “How?”

  Wes fished the flyer out of the recycling bin. “Remember yesterday, when you and Collin came over?” They’d been next door at the Coles’, but Collin had spotted Wes on the back deck and all but had a fit until Sophia brought him over to visit.

  “Yes,” she answered hesitantly.

  “And after our walk on the beach, I hosed Colli
n down and cleaned the stink off him? You remember that, right?”

  “I remember, Wes. Get to the point already. Good grief. It’s like talking to Opal.” Sophia let out a growl that sent a grin to his face. He wouldn’t admit it to her, but that feistiness was attractive.

  “You said if I cleaned him up, you’d owe me a huge favor, so I need to collect on that Friday night at . . .” He scanned the flyer. “Seven.”

  She grumbled something underneath her breath before relenting. “Fine. What should I wear?”

  That was almost too easy, but then he recalled the awful mess and stench, so perhaps she knew not to argue for once.

  “One of those pretty dresses like you wore on our one and only date will be fine,” Wes answered with a hint of condescension to help his cause. Jeans and a blouse were probably fine too, but he liked those flowy dresses on her. He was about to thank her, but the little spitfire hung up on him. Chuckling, he placed the phone on the counter and headed out to get in an evening run.

  At least Sophia had finally agreed to another date. He didn’t know why she was being so stubborn about it. Ever since Collin’s birthday, the three of them had shared meals in private or just hung out together. But she’d refused each time he proposed another date. It made no sense to him and certainly wasn’t helping the mission of repelling unwanted advances from several women.

  “Women,” Wes mumbled while setting out down the back deck steps. The sky was painting itself in rich pink and orange, so he focused on just taking in God’s wonderment and leaving the trivial mess of Sunset Cove for a spell.

  •••

  By the time Friday arrived, Wes was ready to leave Sunset Cove altogether. He huffed loudly as his passenger let out another round of giggles.

  “It’s not funny.” He shook his head and glared at the road.

  “It’ll be funny to you once you get over it.” Sophia giggled again and had enough nerve to poke him in the side.

  “I’m driving here,” Wes snapped.

  “You’re stopped at a red light, silly.” Sophia exhaled, obviously trying to tamp down the laughter. “You need to lighten up or tonight is going to be our last date.”

  “You didn’t have a stranger break into your house.”

  “In all fairness, she was making you a surprise supper.” Sophia snickered, sounding like she was trying to hold it in, but then a roar of laughter followed.

  “How would you have liked finding a stranger cooking in your kitchen?” He white-knuckled the steering wheel and refrained from hitting the gas too hard when the light turned green. “I came down after my shower in only a towel.”

  She sniffled and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry, Wes. Seriously sorry that I didn’t get there in time to get a video.” She barely finished the tease before bellowing out another laugh.

  Wes shook his head and worked on taking several calming breaths. If it hadn’t been for Sophia fetching Lincoln to help out, Wes would have had to call the law to get the deranged woman to leave. “I should have just locked the door and not worried about you having to sit on the porch until I was ready. Yes, that’s the last time I’m considerate like that.”

  “At least I got there before she took her little robe off.” Sophia playfully popped his arm.

  Opal had volunteered to babysit Collin, so it made sense at the time to meet at Wes’s house. He was just glad Sophia had dropped the little boy off before coming over. No way would he have wanted the image of that half-dressed woman branded in Collin’s memory.

  “I need to pack up and disappear in the middle of the night,” Wes muttered as he pulled up to the rec center. He noticed Miss Giggles had finally dried it up. “What?”

  Her face was all puckered up. “Don’t you dare think about pulling a disappearing act. My son would be heartbroken, and he’s had enough of that.”

  “I’m not going anywhere . . .” He hated that his snide comment had dampened her mood, even if it was at his expense, so he reached over and tickled her side. “You do see why it’s imperative that you hold up to your side of the deal with these dates?”

  “I suppose so.” A small smile eased over her sassy lips. “But it’s not my fault you’re so devilishly handsome and a doctor to boot. Honey, you’re prime real estate.”

  “Too late to try flattery, ma’am.” His eyes coasted over the brunette beauty, appreciating how the coral dress warmed her creamy skin, and he wondered if she didn’t understand how much of a catch she would be. He noticed other guys turning to get a better look at her when she walked by, but clearly she didn’t notice.

  Sophia wiggled her fingers toward him in a prissy fashion. “There hasn’t been such handsomeness around these parts since Channing Tatum came through a few years ago while filming a movie.”

  Wes tore his gaze off her and glanced down at his outfit—dark jeans, a pressed white button-down, and a light-gray sports jacket. Seeing nothing that warranted all the attention he’d been receiving, he slid his eyes to his snickering passenger. “Let’s go get this over with.”

  “I promise to be the best fake date ever.” She fluttered her long eyelashes, acting silly. The woman was too cute for her own good at times—a trait she’d clearly passed on to her son.

  “See that you do.” Wes tipped his head and exited the car. After opening Sophia’s door and helping her out, he braved wrapping her arm into the crook of his as they walked inside.

  Both of them all but froze at the door when they spotted the group of women taking up three of the six cooking stations.

  Sophia sucked her teeth beside him and whispered, “What is the Knitting Club doing at a date-night cooking class?”

  “I guess it’s open to anyone.” Wes uprooted his feet and led Sophia to the only available station, which happened to put them front and center. Each station consisted of a stainless steel prep table and a four-burner stovetop. Ingredients and cooking tools were already placed on the tables in an orderly fashion.

  “I saw the flyer for this in the paper,” Sophia said quietly, “and it specifically said for couples and something about a romantic menu.” She groaned. “It’s going to be one long night.”

  Wes glanced over his right shoulder and caught Bertie staring. The sly old lady winked, but he pretended not to see her and turned back to Sophia. He twirled two fingers, beckoning her to turn around so he could help tie her apron. Leaning close to her ear, he whispered, “I may have accidently bragged to Bertie that we would be here.” Sophia stiffened. “I didn’t think they would show up.”

  She turned and placed her hands on her hips. “Well, we’re sure to be the main topic of town gossip for a week or two, so at least we can give these dates a break after tonight.”

  Oh, she thought she had the upper hand again.

  “We’ve only been on two, including tonight. Obviously it’s merely been enough to present a challenge to some insistent ladies, so you can go ahead and count on us upping the ante for a while.” Wes pulled his glasses out of the breast pocket of his jacket before shrugging out of it and placing it on the chair at their station.

  “It was one overzealous woman. I think you’re safe now.” Sophia gave him an exaggerated eye roll—something else Collin had inherited from her.

  “Oh yeah?” He slid the glasses on and picked up the menu. “The lady who keeps giving out the milk for free was brazen enough to offer me a sample just yesterday. Yes, Sophia, I’m totally safe.” He read over the instructions but glanced up when she made no comment. “What?”

  Sophia blinked, looking a bit dazed. “Those glasses are just too much.” She shook her head and snatched the card out of his hand. She seemed engrossed with the selections, so he took a moment to tie on his apron and scan the room.

  Several sighs and groans came from the tables to their right. His eyes swept over and found most of the old ladies fanning themselves and grinning at him. Oh, boy, was it going to be a long night.

  Sophia let out a hushed snort. “You’re making the ge
riatric section swoon, Dr. Sawyer.”

  Shaking his head, he directed his focus on his fake date. “Please . . . Did you call them the Knitting Club earlier?”

  “Yes, but that’s just the front they use for the gossip ring they’re actually running.”

  He chuckled and ran his hand through his hair as he stole a quick glance at one of the women. “What’s up with the one glaring at us? She looks familiar.”

  Sophia tilted her head and peeped around his shoulder. “Ugh. That’s Bertie’s sister Ethel. She’s the postmaster.”

  “Oh, now I remember. That will be my last trip to the post office, I can promise you that.” Wes picked up a garlic press and inspected it. “And who’s the orange-headed lady?”

  They both took another peek that way and found most of the old ladies huddled like they were formulating a game plan.

  “That’s Trudy.”

  “She dropped off an entire pot of catfish stew at the office last week. Best I ever had.” Wes chanced a smile in Trudy’s direction, and she returned it with a wide grin and wave. Her vivid orange hair was such a bright contrast to her dark-mocha skin. Tipping his head, he turned back to the table. He’d learned quickly not to give too much attention, or it would be misinterpreted as an invite.

  “Oh yes. That stew has won several cooking contests, but it’s not worth her snooping around. She’s like the private eye of the group.”

  A twinge struck him in the stomach. Apparently none of the town’s grannies were safe.

  Luckily, the chef stepped behind the counter up front. “Hello. My name is Jake and I’ll be your instructor for this evening. Tonight’s menu will begin with a starter of puff pastry bites stuffed with Brie.”

  He was a shrewd-looking man who meant business. Good. Wes was counting on him keeping the group in line.

  “The main course will be a seared duck breast in a red wine sauce. It will be served with a medley of sautéed veggies. And lastly, we will prepare a fruit tartlet for dessert.” Jake wasted no time and set into instructing the group on how to put the Brie bites together.