Finding You by Daphne Elliot

3

DECLAN

It had been a great weekend.The weather had been clear, I hadn’t had to work much, and Ginger had been in a great mood. We went for a run this morning and then I built some shelves in my hall closet. There was nothing I loved more than a quiet weekend at home, working out and enjoying myself. My family made fun of me and called this my fortress of solitude, but it was the truth. I spent years building my dream home on my dream property in my dream town, so why would I want to leave?

I even decided to treat myself and smoked some ribs today. I considered myself a decent cook but an excellent griller. A couple of years ago I splurged and bought my baby—a Big Green Egg. It was a giant ceramic smoker that required a lot of work but made some of the most amazing food ever. Every few weeks I’d take an afternoon, a six pack, and a good book and cook something amazing. My brothers were so jealous and were always trying to get me to smoke things for them. Liam once showed up with a ten-pound brisket and expected me to cook on demand. Needless to say he hasn’t tried that again. But I do occasionally share the fruits of my labor with them. I would never say this to them, but I like cooking for people.

Callum had been making me work out with him a lot lately—he was going through something and trying to deal with it by lifting weights—so I felt like a decadent meal was in order. I prepped my ribs this morning, removing the membrane and rubbing them down with maple syrup and barbecue rub. It would take hours, but would be so worth it.

The best part of smoking meat? It forced you to sit and relax while it cooked. So I took a book, my dog, and a glass of good whiskey out to my deck to enjoy the delicious smells and the cold ocean air. It was only in the midforties. Practically summer weather.

I threw a tennis ball for Ginger. She walked toward me and then veered off in the other direction to pee on some shrubbery. I don’t know why I bothered. We both knew fetch was beneath her. For all her attitude, I loved her to bits. We made a good team, and she was far smarter and better company than most people. We had a great life together.

I noticed my new neighbor walk by with headphones on. I hadn’t introduced myself. I wasn’t a nosy neighbor so probably wouldn’t. But it didn’t stop me from wondering about her. What brought her here in the middle of the winter? Was she okay? She seemed fine. Some people would feel bad for the beautiful young woman stuck in an oceanfront cottage in the middle of winter, but not me—that was basically my dream. I figured if she needed something she would say hi.

For now, I just pretended to read my book while watching her walk by. She was tall and lanky with a blonde ponytail and rosy cheeks. Even in a winter coat she was stunning. I found myself staring at her, mesmerized. She walked with purpose, as if she was actually going somewhere important. And her face looked serious and a little bit mad, not that I was one to judge. I wondered again what brought her to Havenport.

Thirty minutes later I was checking my ribs that were close to being done and had forgotten about my mysterious neighbor when Ginger started to bark. She wasn’t an excitable dog, so I immediately looked up and saw my neighbor.

Up close, she was younger and prettier than I expected. Her cheeks were flushed pink, and she wore a gray beanie over her blonde hair. Her green eyes shone in the winter sunlight. It was clear that the ocean air agreed with her.

Her face was serious, but her body language was friendly. Ginger continued to bark, banging her tail against the grass. I waved in what I hoped was a friendly way.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hello.”

“I just wanted to introduce myself. I’ve seen you out here a few times. I’m Astrid. I am staying at my aunt’s cottage across the street.” She gestured to Mrs. Jensen’s house. Her voice was low and husky, not at all what I expected.

She offered her gloved hand and I shook it, momentarily surprised by the firmness of her handshake. “Nice to meet you. I’m Declan.”

She shifted her weight back and forth, looking at her feet. “Your home is lovely.”

“Thank you?” I replied. I was never much of a talker, but this pretty girl in my backyard was scrambling my brain. It was in the forties, but I instantly felt hot and off balance. There was something about this woman that got under my skin.

“Can I pet your dog? I really love dogs.” She looked at Ginger who sat beside me, tail thumping.

“Sure. You can try. But she’s not super friendly.”

Astrid gently unlatched the gate and walked through. She sank to her knees and offered her hand to Ginger who sniffed her eagerly. She began to scratch her ears, and Ginger nuzzled her hand. Huh. That’s weird. Ginger hated most people and was especially wary of women.

Astrid stayed on the ground petting her and talking to her. “You are such a good girl. Look at you, so regal like a queen. What a good girl you are!”

She looked up at me. “What’s her name?”

“Ginger,” I replied, slightly dumbstruck.

“Aww, Ginger, you are a gorgeous girl. And so friendly! What a good girl you are.”

I was officially lightheaded. This was not where I expected this day to go. I stood, dumbfounded, watching this lovely stranger with the moss-green eyes play with my dog, who liked people even less than I did.

After two minutes or two hours—I was not in a place to quantify time—Astrid stood up and brushed herself off. “Thanks,” she said. “I really needed that.”

I smiled in what I hoped was not a goofy way. I wasn’t a smiler, I was more of a brooder. Generally this worked well with the ladies, but with Astrid, I couldn’t seem to wipe the goofy grin off my face. Speak, dumbass. Say words to the pretty lady. You are being a weirdo. Unfortunately, no words came.

She clearly sensed my awkwardness. “What are you cooking? It smells incredible.”

“I’m smoking,” I answered. “Smoking some meat.” Clearly I had lost my grasp on the English language.

“What are you smoking?”

This I could talk about. “I’m smoking a rack of ribs, actually.”

“Wow. That sounds amazing. I could smell them across the street. I don’t know the last time I ate ribs.”

Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t even think about it.“Do you want some? I have plenty to share.”

She seemed embarrassed. “No. I couldn’t impose. Sorry I even said that. I don’t have a car, and there is no grocery delivery in Havenport, so it’s been a while since I had a home-cooked meal, that’s all. So sorry to be so forward.”

She was giving me an out, and I should take it. “Not at all. I’d be happy to share. I’ve been cooking these for a few hours, so it would be nice if someone else appreciated my work.” Dumbass.

“If you’re sure…”

It was as if my mouth was operating independently of my brain. “Yes. Of course! We’re neighbors. These need to come off in about thirty minutes and then need to rest. Want to come back in an hour?”

She nodded and smiled. Her smile was big, slightly crooked, and really beautiful. I got the sense she wasn’t a natural smiler, so it made me feel pretty good. I still didn’t know what I was doing, inviting this random stranger into my home. I didn’t invite people into my home ever. My family just showed up some times and barged in, but I wasn’t exactly the dinner party type. But I couldn’t say no to her, and she seemed lonely and it was always nice to have someone to cook for.

“I would offer to bring something over, but all I have is booze. A lot of booze actually. I’ll bring you something nice. What are you drinking?”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m fine. I have plenty here.”

“No, I insist.” She reached over and grabbed the glass out of my hand. As if living in slow motion, she brought the glass to her lush pink lips and took a long sip. “Ooh. Irish whiskey. I like.” She took another sip and handed the glass back to me. She tapped her nose. “I have something you will love.” And she turned on her heel and walked back to her cottage.

I stood there, dumbfounded, watching her hips sway as she walked up the driveway into the house. Ginger stood beside me, watching her go inside. She cocked her head and gave me a hopeful look.

“I have no idea what just happened, girl. But I think we are going to have a dinner guest.”