Page 12 of Last Wish Wedding

“But—”

“Mom, can Mackie come for dinner?” Noah interrupted. “I want to show him my shell collection!”

“Oh, honey, I’m sure Mac’s son is waiting for him at home...”

Mac’s brow furrowed. “My son?”

“Don’t you...” Kelsey gestured vaguely toward the big house up the beach. “I assumed you lived there with your family. Noah’s been talking about playing with another boy...” Realization dawned on her. He was Mackie.

“Just me.” Something flickered across his face. “Noah’s been my beach-combing buddy these past few months.”

Noah tugged at her sleeve. “Please, Mom? We’re having chicken casserole, right? That’s the best one!”

Kelsey looked between her son’s hopeful face and Mac’s carefully neutral expression. The same man who’d gifted her the car, who apparently owned the mansion on the point, had been spending his afternoons beach combing with her son while she thought he was another kid around the same age as Noah.

“Please?” Noah tried again. “He shows me cool stuff, Mom. Like today he told me about how sea glass gets all smooth and frosty-looking.”

Against her better judgment, Kelsey heard herself say, “Well, there’s plenty to go around.”

Mac stiffened, as if he’d been expecting her to decline. “Perhaps another time.” His voice was cold and rough as he nodded and turned on his heel.

Instantly, Kelsey thought herself foolish. Of course, he wouldn’t want to join them for her budget chicken casserole; he likely had other plans for a fancy dinner cooked by a top model girlfriend. Nevertheless… “Well, the invitation is open, feel free to stop by any time, around this time. It’s the least I can do to thank you.”

“Mom, my shoe.” Noah whined. “My hands are all sticky with sand.”

Kelsey kneeled to tie Noah’s shoe, glancing up just as Mac’s gaze dropped to her hands. Their eyes met, and her breath caught. Had she noticed how blue they were before? Beyond them, the surf roared as the incoming tide announced its intentions. Kelsey stood, clearing her throat and brushing the sand from her knees, acutely aware of Mac’s lingering gaze.

A scowl formed between his eyes. “You don’t need to thank me, I was the one who totaled your car. You were the hero.”

“Oh, come with us Mackie. I really want to show you my collection,” Noah half whined.

She smiled at him. “Thank me, then, by making my son happy.”

Mac’s shoulders drooped, and she knew they had defeated him. He followed them up the path to their cottage, with Noah chatting excitedly the whole way.

Back in the cottage kitchen, Kelsey pulled the casserole from the oven on autopilot while keeping one ear tuned to the living room where Noah’s excited voice carried.

“And this one’s from last winter,” Noah was saying. “See how it’s kind of purple?”

“That’s rare,” Mac replied. “Probably from an old perfume bottle.” Mac then called toward the kitchen. “Can I help with anything?”

“No, I’ve got it,” Kelsey answered, watching through the doorway as Noah spread his collection across the coffee table. Mac sat cross-legged on the floor beside him and examined each piece with genuine interest. There was something both familiar and strange about seeing this clearly wealthy man so at ease on their worn carpet, listening intently to her son’s stories about each find.

With the table set, Kelsey called them to dinner. Noah barely paused for breath between bites and questions.

“Your boat is huge! Is it really yours? Can I see it sometime?”

Mac glanced at Kelsey before answering. “That’s up to your mom.”

“Is that what you were towing the other day?” Kelsey asked, pieces falling into place.

Mac nodded. “Just picked her up.”

“Do you go on lots of trips?” Noah asked around a mouthful of casserole.

“Planning to.” Mac pushed a piece of broccoli around his plate. “Thought I’d head down to the Caribbean, maybe explore the islands for a while.”

“By yourself?” Kelsey found herself asking.