She stepped squarely in front of him and put her hands on her hips. Though she tried to remain calm, her heart was hammering. “But you do have a voice in the matter. And an opinion.”
Finally, Bennett looked her in the eye. “I think you’ve made a compelling argument, and your intentions toward the community seem honorable.”
He had on his mayor’s mask, and that disturbed her. “I sense there’s something more that you’re not saying.”
“I’ll be straight with you,” he said, his voice dropping a notch. “Your husband stirred up the residents and cost this community a lot of money. You can hardly blame them if they don’t fall into your arms the first time you ask them for a favor. You and your sister have to prove yourselves. You’re the newcomers.”
Ivy nodded. What he said made a lot of sense, even though it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “And we will. Thanks for the advice.”
Figuring there was nothing more she could say, Ivy twisted her windblown hair from her face and turned to go back inside.
Suddenly, an enormous, sun-dried palm frond with sharp, spiky edges hurled toward her. Bennett pulled her aside, though an edge of the frond scraped her bare shoulder.
“Watch out,” Bennett cried as another one blew toward them. Grabbing her arm, he spun her into the safety of his arms and pressed his back against the house for shelter.
“Ouch,” she cried, pressing into him. Above her, palm trees were arched in the wind, their large, dried fronds peeling off and taking flight in the gusts. “Those fronds are dangerous.”
Holding her in his arms, he looked at her shoulder. “Not too bad, but you need a bandage on that. Do you have a first-aid kit?” He pulled a white cotton handkerchief from his sports coat.
Ivy winced as he pressed the cloth against her skin to stem the trickles of blood oozing from the scrape. “Not yet. It’s on the list.”
“What am I going to do with you?” he murmured.
He was so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. “What do you mean by that?” Ivy stared into his hazel eyes. Her heart was beating so hard she was sure he could hear it.
Bennett applied the slightest pressure to the small of her back and lowered his eyes.
For a split second, Ivy lost her focus, and lifted her face to his, imagining the feel of his lips on hers.
Only a breath of space separated them.
“You need to see to your guests,” he said brusquely and pulled away. “But first, I’ll put a bandage on your shoulder. Come with me to the truck.”
Taking her hand, Bennett led her into the wind. “Watch the fronds,” he called out, though the winds whipped his voice into the air. He kept his head down and pulled her close to him.
As the stiff wind tangled her skirt around her legs, Ivy clung to him. Whitecaps formed on the ocean, and late afternoon beachgoers raced after hats and umbrellas skipping across the sand like tumbleweeds. The wind held fine particles of sand…and a whiff of smoke.
Bennett unlocked the cab of the pickup and helped her up. She waited, untangling her hair from her earrings and eyelashes while he opened a first aid kit.
“I can do that,” she said.
“You have another scratch on your back that you won’t be able to reach.” Working deftly, he cleaned her wound and applied ointment.
Grateful for his gentle touch, Ivy watched him work. “You enjoy being of service to others, don’t you?”
He paused, his gaze encompassing her face before finally settling on her lips. “At the end of the day, what else is there? The journey is awfully lonely if you have to go it alone.”
“Which you’ve been doing for a while.” For all their differences, the loss of their spouses was what they had in common. She touched his forearm. “I need to know. Does it get any easier?”
“The pain mellows, but the person who is gone remains forever rooted in your life.” He peeled off a bandage. “Hold still.” With a swift motion, he applied the bandage.
Ivy drew a breath, summoning her courage. “Do you think there will ever be room for another relationship to take root?”
While she waited for Bennett to answer the wind whistled through the cab, its force rocking the SUV.
After smoothing the edges of the bandage, Bennett let his hand linger on her shoulder. “I’d grown to think not. But lately I’ve seen widowed friends remarry and find happiness again. I think what they’ve found is good—even better—in many ways.”
They sat shoulder to shoulder while the wind pummeled the vehicle. “Why is that, do you think?”
“More experience, more maturity. Realizing that their one true love was human, too.” He chuckled. “As much as I loved Jackie, she drove me crazy at times with her incessant talking. But then, I also loved that about her, too. She had a lot of friends and was so informed on so many subjects.” He paused, searching her eyes. “Do you know what I mean?”
“I do. Jeremy had his faults, too. Only I didn’t realize the most egregious of them until after he’d died.” She quirked her lips to the side. “He stole the pleasure of screaming at him from me. Not that we had that sort of relationship. Not at all, actually, which makes it so surreal to think about what I know now.”
Bennett shook his head. “I can only imagine.” Glancing out the window, he said, “We should get back inside.”
Ivy twisted her hair to one side to secure it against the wind. “Ready.”
Bennett took her hand, and they raced head-down through a fine spray of sand and leaves blasting them like confetti. The smell of smoke was stronger now, and dark plumes rose from the high ridge that separated Summer Beach from the rest of the county. Bennett glanced up. “Oh, crap.”
Behind them, waves roared against the wind and droplets took flight,
