Come Home with Me Page 3

  “Luke? Where did you go?”

  He blinked and saw Miranda gazing up at him with puzzlement.

  “Sorry,” he said. “What did you say?”

  “I asked if Caleb’s into stuffed animals. And, if so, what does he already have?”

  “Oh, right.” He’d gotten distracted again. “Is there a man in your life now?” The words blurted out. No wonder, since he’d never done this before. With him and Candace, their relationship had evolved organically.

  No surprise that his clumsy approach resulted in the beginnings of a frown. “No,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

  “There’s no woman in mine.”

  Definitely a frown now, sketching lines across her pale forehead. “I don’t date,” she said flatly. “It’s not a good time in my life for that.”

  He scrubbed a finger up the bridge of his nose, wishing he had an ounce of finesse. “I’m not sure it’s what I want either. But this is nice. Talking to you. I thought maybe we could, you know, have coffee one day. Keep talking.” And he could keep enjoying those stunning eyes, and hoping to win another of her warm smiles.

  She pressed her lips together, the frown lines easing only a little. “I’m really busy. Though I only work part-time here, I’m doing online courses to get a certificate in early childhood education, so I can get a better job when we move back to Vancouver.”

  “Cool.” Not the moving back to Vancouver part, though. “I’m a veterinarian, by the way.”

  To his astonishment, he got what he’d wanted: one of those smiles. And he hadn’t even been trying.

  “Animals rather than people,” she commented.

  “Yeah, but I have to deal with the people, too. You almost need a psych degree to cope with owners of pets—or fur babies, or children, or whatever they call their critters. Even owners of livestock can be tricky.”

  “You handle livestock as well as pets?”

  “I treat every animal on this island, from Mr. Pettigrew’s prize-winning bull to Azalea’s goats to Suzie Jack’s newt.”

  “Newt?”

  “She says it’s her totem animal. Who am I to argue?”

  She smiled again, and he really, really needed to have coffee with her. What the heck was going on with him?

  Chapter Three

  “Be sure and call me if she kicks up a fuss,” Miranda told Kara, the owner of Blowing Bubbles. “I’ll only be a few doors down at Dreamspinner.”

  “No worries,” the plump fortysomething woman said, waving a casual hand. “After all, kids are my life, at home and at work.”

  Miranda admired, and envied, her so much. Happily married for almost twenty years, Kara had spun her love of children into a wonderful and profitable business, one where she could bring her own little ones to work. After giving birth to adorable blond Kaitlin, Kara had developed serious fibroids and had to have a hysterectomy, but that hadn’t stopped her and Robbie. They’d adopted boy and girl siblings who’d been in the foster care system. Then last year, they’d taken on another addition to their family, adopting the baby of two island teens who remained involved in their child’s life.

  At least once every day, Miranda thought I want to be like Kara when I grow up. And she was trying to grow up. She really was.

  Now, as the shop door closed behind her with a jangle of the now-fixed bell, and she wrapped her woolen scarf tighter around her neck against the chill ocean air, she wondered if this afternoon coffee meeting—not a date—with Luke Chandler was a step toward maturity or a step backward.

  As Aaron often told her, she took after their mom. Never in neglecting her child or turning to alcohol or drugs. But yeah, okay, in falling in love neither wisely nor well. She led with her heart. But why was it wrong to believe in love? After all, look at Aaron, now happily engrossed in wedding planning along with Eden and her entire family. She sure didn’t begrudge him his good luck, that his heart picked a winner the very first time. She just wished her own heart had sounder judgment.

  The main street of Blue Moon Harbor village was all of about four blocks long. So backwoodsy compared to cosmopolitan Vancouver, though she had to admit some of the shops—like Blowing Bubbles—were cool. Dreamspinner bookstore was another. As she passed its window, her gaze skimmed the display and she lusted after those shiny covers.

  When she and Aaron were little, a neighbor at one of the crappy places they’d lived had given them some old picture books, and her clever brother had taught himself to read. Then he read to her, and taught her to read, too. The library had become one of the siblings’ favorite places. Free books! What could be better? That was another of her complaints about this island: the tiny library’s collection was pitiful compared to that of the Vancouver Public Library system. Of course, Eden had been fabulously generous in giving her an e-reader for Christmas, and Miranda appreciated finding free books to download. Still, though she’d never tell Eden, there was something more magical about actual physical books, perhaps because it was those books that had over the years offered escape from her dismal life, as well as fueled the dream that things might get better.

  Miranda had always managed to save enough to buy Ariana a brand-new book or two for her birthday and for Christmas, but this year the gifts coming from all the new people who called themselves “family” had been almost overwhelming. The attention directed to her daughter, and to Miranda herself, was so unaccustomed. She was still wary of trusting in it.

  Dreamspinner Coffee Shop adjoined the bookstore. Before opening the door, she glanced through the window. The warmly lit shop had a counter with a display case full of pastries and snacks, and eight or so wooden tables, most of them occupied. Plants tucked into corners, racks of magazines and newspapers, artwork by local painters, and a bulletin board with posters of island events made the room welcoming.

  Luke Chandler sat at a table near the counter, his casually styled auburn hair gleaming like dark cherry wood in the light. He was chatting to a slight man with short, gray-streaked black hair who stood with a takeout cup in hand. She decided to let the guys finish their conversation before she went inside.

  Luke’s jacket was off, revealing broad shoulders in a blue plaid flannel shirt. His expression was warm and animated, as it had been when he’d spoken to her at the shop.

  He seemed like a good guy: a loving and conscientious dad; a man who’d built a career doing something worthwhile that he loved. He wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes, but his was a comfortable kind of handsome, not the more dramatic, edgy looks that appealed to her. When they’d talked in the store, she’d liked him, but it wasn’t that spiky, adrenaline-type of buzz she experienced when she was falling for a guy.

  And that was good. Since she’d hit bottom and come to Destiny Island, her focus was on educating herself so she could provide a better life for her daughter. Still, it might be nice to have a friend. She’d never had a man friend, unless she counted her brother. Either she was in love with the guy, or the guy was chasing her and she wasn’t interested. She hoped Luke didn’t ruin things by pushing for more than she wanted to give. When he’d asked her for coffee, she’d seen the unmistakable gleam of male appreciation in his eyes. And he’d only said he wasn’t sure he wanted to date, not that he completely ruled it out.

  Maybe he felt her gaze, because as he continued to speak to the older man, he glanced toward the window. Seeing her, he gave a big smile and raised a hand to beckon her in.

  She pushed open the door, unwinding her blue scarf and unbuttoning her navy fleece jacket in response to the warmth of the room.

  The older man turned toward her, revealing a face with Asian features and sharp, intelligent brown eyes. She recognized him despite the gray that now threaded through his black hair. In that moment she felt like an unhappy, rebellious, dyed-and-streaked-haired teen again.

  Any hope that her former eleventh-grade math teacher wouldn’t recognize her fled as Luke said, “Miranda, you remember Dahn Nguyen, right? Dahn, Miranda Gabriel and her little girl
have recently returned to Destiny Island.”

  She ducked her head in a nod of acknowledgment. “Hello, Mr. Nguyen.”

  She was a slender five feet seven and he wasn’t a whole lot bigger, but he’d always had such an air of authority. That hadn’t changed one bit as he appraised her. “Did you ever finish high school, Miranda?”

  Her chin came up. Glad that she’d finally listened to her brother’s advice and accepted his help, she said, “Yes, I did.” No need to tell the man that she’d obtained her GED only a few weeks ago.

  He smiled. “That’s very good. Education is so important. It’s one of the many things I appreciated when I came to this country.”

  She vaguely recalled that he’d been one of what the older generation referred to as the Vietnamese boat people, refugees who’d fled their country when that crazy war happened way back in the 1960s.

  “I’ll leave you to talk,” Mr. Nguyen said. “Luke, Elsa and I will be in soon for her shots.” He smiled again at Miranda. “My cat has blue eyes and my granddaughter was in a Frozen phase when she named her.”

  Astonished by the smiles, and at finding common ground with this man, she said, “My daughter’s only two so she doesn’t really understand the movie, but she loves the princess clothes. And Sven, the reindeer, and Olaf, the snowman.”

  When her former teacher had gone, Miranda sank into a chair. “Whew. Back in eleventh grade, he was always scowling at me.” She peeled off her jacket and shoved it over the back of her chair along with her scarf.

  “Back then, you deserved it,” Luke said, flecks of green and gold twinkling in his gray eyes. Those were intriguing eyes, an unusual combination of colors.

  She stuck out her tongue, but grinned. “Okay, fair enough.” She propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her folded hands. “I was acting out because I hated being here.”

  He shook his head, looking puzzled. “Acting out? And why did you hate Destiny Island?” Then he said, “Hang on to those answers. Let me get you something to drink. Maybe a muffin as well?”

  “That’s okay.” She pulled her wallet out of her jacket pocket. “I’ll just—”

  “No. My treat. I invited you. What would you like?”

  One of her first life lessons was that, on the occasions you did have money, you stretched it by picking the cheapest items. But now, seeing the bowl-shaped cup of foam-topped coffee in front of him, and the giant cranberry muffin, she gave herself permission to indulge. “I would absolutely love a hot chocolate and a Destiny bar.” The rich chocolate squares were the island version of Nanaimo bars, using Baileys Irish Cream flavoring instead of vanilla in the custard layer.

  He grinned. “What is it about women and chocolate?” Not waiting for an answer, he took a couple of long-legged strides over to the counter.

  Objectively speaking, the man had a fine butt to go along with those long legs and broad shoulders. He was obviously fit, and carried himself with a confidence that seemed unconscious, so different from the eye-catching, always-on-stage movements of Sebastian, the actor. Ariana’s father. A man who wouldn’t be caught dead offstage in a plaid flannel shirt. Or, come to that, in a backwater like Destiny Island.

  When Luke returned, placing her hot chocolate and Destiny bar in front of her, he said, “Why did you hate it here?”

  Before answering, she lifted the mug, admiring the artistic drizzle of chocolate syrup that decorated the peaks of whipped cream, and inhaled, closing her eyes to better savor the scent. Then she sipped, and smiled. “Pure, decadent bliss,” she said with satisfaction.

  Luke’s hand stopped halfway to his mouth with a chunk of muffin, and his eyes widened, the gold flecks gleaming.

  Oops. She hadn’t intended to be suggestive, but it seemed he’d interpreted her actions that way. Putting the mug down, she said briskly, “I’m a city girl. I grew up in Vancouver and I love it.” Well, not the Downtown Eastside or most of the other places she’d lived as a child, but the city itself. “It’s so vibrant. There are so many things to see and do, and a lot of them are free. The people are such a great mix of races, cultures, lifestyles, and—”

  “Hey,” he broke in, putting down his coffee cup and holding up his hand to stop her. “Destiny’s diverse. Look at Dahn Nguyen. The Yakimuras who own this place. Aaron’s friend Lionel. Rachelle and Celia who own C-Shell. And then there’s—”

  “Stop. I hear you.” The Yakimuras, a long-time island family, were Japanese Canadian. Lionel, her brother’s best friend, was an African-American Vietnam War draft dodger. Rachelle was black, too, and married to Celia. On an island with a population of not much more than 1,500, there was a lot of diversity. “And yeah, before you say it, there’s some arts and culture going on here, too, but much less than in Vancouver.” She forked up a bite of gooey Destiny bar and managed to suppress a moan of enjoyment.

  “You’re into arts and culture?” His tone was so carefully neutral that she guessed he didn’t see her as a big culture buff.

  She had to chuckle and admit, “Well, maybe not so much. I do like theater and music. There are lots of free musical events in the city. Or if you volunteer, you often get to attend. Though I don’t do that now, since Ariana came along. But even if you stand outside a paid venue, like on the beach outside the Vancouver Folk Music Festival, you can still hear the music.” She added, with a grin, “Ariana’s developing eclectic taste.”

  “Do you like my stepbrother’s music?”

  “Your stepbrother?” She frowned and sipped hot chocolate as she tried to remember. “Did I know you had a stepbrother?”

  “We didn’t hang out together. He was in your class, but like you he skipped school more than he attended. He always had incredible musical talent, and he’s done well for himself. Julian Blake?” He cocked his head.

  “Oh. My. God.” She almost dropped the mug, gaping at him in amazement. “Julian Blake’s your stepbrother?” He’d been a moody, sexy bad boy. She’d had a mad crush on him, but he’d shown no interest in the girls at school. She’d wondered if he was gay, but didn’t get that vibe. Several years later, she’d been stunned to hear him on CBC Radio, an up-and-coming musician. Since then, she’d followed his career.

  Julian was indeed incredible, and crazy good-looking. Superhot. In the way she most definitely was attracted to. And definitely not gay, given all the social media photos of him with various attractive women. “I’m a huge fan. I even saw him live once, before Ariana was born and my budget got so tight.” Intense, passionate, edgy Julian—with his tousled, burnished-gold hair, ripped black clothing, and tattoo—was pretty much the opposite of the comfortably handsome, easygoing, chestnut-haired island veterinarian. “You don’t share a parent?”

  “No. My dad died when I was ten, and two years later Mom married Forbes Blake, Julian’s father. Forbes and Julian’s mom were divorced.”

  He’d spoken impersonally, which led her to say, “You and Julian don’t get along so well?” She ate more of the Destiny bar, thinking that it tasted the way Julian looked and the way his music sounded: a mix of rough and smooth, of sweet and bitter. An irresistible blend.

  “No, we do. I mean, there aren’t any problems. But we’re very different people. And he’s made himself scarce. Dropped out of school not long after you did, went over to Vancouver. He wasn’t in touch for a while, not even with his dad and they’d been close. But then suddenly he emailed to say he was okay, playing music. Since then we all keep in touch, but he only comes to the island a couple times a year. I think he hates Blue Moon Harbor as much as you used to.”

  Automatically, she opened her mouth to correct him and say she still hated the place, but then she closed her lips. There were good things here. And good people, like Eden and her relatives who kept calling her family. Kara, who provided a perfect working environment. Iris at Dreamspinner who made sure she got first crack when kids’ books went on sale. Miranda still wasn’t exactly nature girl, all passionate about the ocean and trees and eagles and
stuff the way her brother was, but she had to admit that Destiny Island had its merits.

  It probably always had. A realization sank in. “I blamed the island for everything that had gone wrong in my life.”

  “Your mom died, didn’t she?” Luke said quietly. “Her parents took in you and Aaron?”

  Miranda gulped. How stupid to have said that out loud, to open the door to memories she tried not to revisit, much less share. She glanced at her watch, but didn’t read the time. “I need to get back to the store.” She stood and, not about to abandon the half-eaten Destiny bar, wrapped it in her napkin. Too bad Luke hadn’t bought the delicious hot chocolate in a takeout cup. Shoving her arms into her jacket sleeves, she said, “Thanks for treating me.”

  He stood, too, frowning. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “No, of course not. But this is my coffee break and I left Kara not only minding the store but also looking after Ariana.”

  As she turned toward the door, wrapping her scarf around her neck, he said, “Hold on a sec.” He strode over to the counter, got a cardboard cup, and neatly poured the remains of her hot chocolate into it. “To keep you warm.”

  Oh yeah, this was a good guy. “Thanks again.” She gazed at him, into those very cool multicolored eyes, and got lost there for a moment. It was like looking into a kaleidoscope, and those were her favorite toys of the entire Blowing Bubbles inventory.

  “Let’s do it again,” he said.

  She pulled herself back out of the kaleidoscope. “Oh, uh, I don’t know.” As she walked toward the door, he grabbed his jacket and kept pace. He was beside her, pulling on his jacket, as she hurried down the street.

  At the door to the kids’ store, he said, “What’s wrong, Miranda? We were having a nice talk, and now you’re blowing me off.”

  “Luke, I . . .” A guy like this deserved more than a cool brush-off, so she’d tell him the truth, even though it was hard to admit. “I’m going to say that cliché thing that it’s not about you, it’s about me. You’re a great guy with a great job and I’m sure your kids are great, too. But I’m, well, at a weird place in my life. I’ve always been kind of messed up. You knew me back when, so you saw how screwed up I was, and—”