“She wanted to do it. She promised me she’ll talk to him in the morning. She doesn’t like to drive at night anymore.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“Explains why she insisted on hosting Christmas dinner last year and why she’s turned down all my dinner invitations.”

She poured him a cup of coffee and set it in front of him. “If anyone can do this, it’s Dani.”

He reached for the cup. “Do me a favor—don’t let what she said get in the way of being her friend. She reached out to you first, and that’s saying something.”

“I’ll call her before I leave town.”

He traced the rim of his cup. “I keep forgetting you’re leaving. I just assume you’ll see reason and stay here.”

“See reason?”

A half grin tugged at his lips. “I was hoping you’d remember all the good times you had here.”

“How would you know about the good times?”

“Dani spent more time at your place than at home. How many times did I pick you two up and drop you at the movies or the mall?”

“Millions.” A memory flashed of a young Dalton standing by the pool at the Seaside Resort, his hair a wild mop and his sun-soaked skin a deep brown. She was thirteen, maybe, and Dalton was sixteen. Even then, being close to him had made her stomach flutter.

“I have this vivid memory of you two running a bingo game by the Seaside Resort pool,” he said. “You must have been about thirteen.”

She remembered. “That was fun.”

“Everything I heard from Dani suggested you loved it here.”

“The Seaside Resort and Ruth are gone. They were my anchors.” She sighed. “That call from New York was from a restaurant associate. He’s offered me a great job.”

“Do you want to take it?”

It would have been a no-brainer six months ago. “I’m not sure.”

His coffee untouched, he came around the counter. “You have more here than just the Seaside Resort and Ruth. You have Dani.”

“Do I?”

“Talk to her.” He stood close, and his quiet energy made her aware that she’d been alone for a long time.

Energy snapped between them. If she left never having kissed him, she’d wonder. And if she kissed him, she wondered if she could leave. “Can I kiss you?”

Tension and relief collided. “Yes.”

As she rose up, he bent his head, cupped her face in his hands, and pressed his lips to hers. Testing. Tasting.

Her breath halted in her chest. She could sleep with him and move on. Matthew hadn’t kept her from leaving. She was stronger than any ties she had to this place.

When the kiss ended, she tipped her forehead into his. “Can you stay for a while?”

“I sure can.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE RUTH

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

RUTH

Monday, June 26, 1950, 6:45 a.m.