Chapter 12

Willow

"Are you sure I don't look overdressed?" I slide my palms down over my navy blue dress again, nerves running all through my body.

"You look amazing, Willow. Seriously. Stop questioning it. In fact, I think this is the first time I've seen you with your hair down and it looks fantastic," Astrid assures me as she sizes me up once more with her eyes in approval.

It's the night of the veterans' dinner in Carrington Cove, and I'm definitely regretting the decision to attend right now. Dressed in a body-hugging navy dress with a lace overlay that offers just the right amount of cleavage, I'm standing in Astrid's living room, trying to come up with an excuse to get me out of this.

It's been a few weeks since our beach day, but we've hung out several times since then and she still loves teasing me about Dallas. She's honestly the closest friend I've made in ages, comparable to Shauna only, or Katrina, my assistant.

I smooth my hand down the half of my hair I left down, feeling even more self-conscience about it now. My bun is a piece of the armor that helps me play the part of a successful businesswoman, a fact that it took me a long time not to be ashamed of.

But tonight isn't about business.

Tonight is about community and friendship, which is something I have very little experience with and I feel is pressing down on me with each passing second as we wait to leave.

And tonight, I'll see Dallas for the first time since our little tryst at his bar last week.

And he likes it when my hair is down.

The doorbell ringing behind me pulls me from my thoughts.

"That must be my mom." Astrid steps around me, her short red dress sparkling as she moves. Her dark brown hair is down as well in soft curls, falling just below her shoulders. I've never seen her this dressed up and she looks stunning, not that she isn't beautiful any other day. I overheard a young man in the grocery store the other day describe her as a MILF, and I definitely agree—Astrid is a knockout in that girl-next-door kind of way.

"Hi, baby." Her mother enters the room, kissing Astrid on the cheek and then turns to me with wide eyes. "Oh, you must be Willow."

"Yes. It's nice to meet you…"

"Melissa," she finishes for me, reaching out to shake my hand. "Astrid has told me a lot about you, but it's great to finally meet you."

"Likewise."

"She also told me that you own the Bayshore house now, huh?"

"Yes, the house is mine, although it's proving to be a lot of work and I'm not sure what I was thinking taking that on."

Melissa smiles at me. "I think it's great that you're choosing to bring some life back into that place. It's been vacant for such a long time."

"Well, Willow has faced a few challenges since she got here, but it's nothing she can't handle," Astrid adds, forcing me to smile at her sentiment.

"I'm not going to let a few geese stand in my way," I add, which makes them both laugh.

"That's fantastic." Melissa rubs her palms together. "So where are my grandkids?"

"Lilly is playing in her room, and Bentley is playing video games in the living room. I told him he only gets one hour and he's already been on there for about fifteen minutes," Astrid answers.

"Sounds good."

"There's pizza in the freezer that you can pop in the oven when you guys get hungry, and ice cream sandwiches for dessert."

Astrid's mom waves her hand at her daughter as if she's a pest. "In case you've forgotten, I raised you and your brother. I've got it handled, and if not, we'll figure it out. You two go have fun. Enjoy talking with other adults and have a few drinks. And if you have too much, catch a ride home and I can take you back in the morning to get your car."

"I'm sure we won't get too crazy," Astrid assures her. "It's just the veterans' dinner, Mom."

"I know," she says softly, walking up to Astrid, framing her face with her hands. "But I also know that the night can be depressing if you let it. Try not to focus on the bad, okay? Remember your husband, but also remember that you still have a beautiful life even though he's not here."

The light catches on the moisture building in Astrid's eyes. "Mom, you're going to make me ruin my makeup."

"You look beautiful." Her mother releases her and then turns to me. "Make sure she has a good time all right, Willow?"

I give her a small smile. "I'll try."

Great, more added pressure for the evening.

We say our goodbyes to the kids and then walk out to my car. I offered to drive since Astrid has been so gracious to me with… everything.

"So what exactly can I expect tonight?" I ask as we cruise along a few of the main roads in town to get to the center, streetlights streaking through the windows as we pass by.

"Well, the first hour is mostly a cocktail hour. People mingle, catch up, and have a few drinks. Then they'll serve dinner and Mr. Hansen, the head of the center, will make his speech and introduce the officer who will recognize the veterans of the evening, including the men and women we've lost this year. That part can get pretty emotional." I swallow down the lump in my throat and hear her clear hers. "And then they'll present a slideshow, showcasing all of the events from the past year, highlighting those that helped raise money for the center and what they have planned for the year ahead."

I take a deep breath, feeling a little more at ease now knowing what to expect. "Okay. That sounds manageable."

"Are you really that nervous?"

"I am, Astrid. This is…" I struggle with how to explain this to her in a way she'll understand and instead chuckle through my nerves. "It's a lot for someone like me."

"What do you mean?"

"It's hard to explain."

"Well, I'm glad you're here. I'm nervous too, but knowing you'll be there with me makes me feel better." She reaches across the center console and grasps my hand. "I'm grateful for our friendship. It's hard to make friends the older you get, especially in a small town, and part of me feels like you were meant to be here." I see her shrug from the corner of my eye. "I know that may sound corny, but I've learned not to let things go unsaid and I want you to know that's how I feel."

And that human contact, that simple gesture along with her words—they weave a path around my heart and settle right in the center.

I have a friend.

And for the first time in a long time, I actually want to be there for someone else just like she's been there for me.

I cast my eyes over at her for a second. "It means a lot to me too, Astrid."

Her smile puts me at ease. "Plus, Dallas will be there tonight, so you'll know at least one other person," she teases, and suddenly the nerves are back.

"Uh…that's not helping, Astrid," I deadpan.

"On the contrary, Willow." She bounces her eyebrows at me. "I think Dallas could help you in more ways than one."

***

Walking into the room steals the oxygen from my lungs as I take in my surroundings.

Round tables are stationed throughout the room covered in white tablecloths with centerpieces full of white and red roses. Navy blue lights shine up from the floor, making the walls appear blue, highlighting the patriotic theme of the night. Soft music plays from the sound system and more people than I can count are standing around in small groups, chatting with drinks in their hands.

"Here we are," Astrid says to me, weaving her arm through the crook of mine. "Just breathe and stay around here. I'm going to go get us two glasses of champagne."

"Yeah. Champagne sounds nice." I watch her walk away and then survey the room, attempting to see if I know anyone while I listen to my heartbeat in my ears.

It almost feels like the entire town is here tonight. But based off what Astrid has told me about the camaraderie here, I wouldn't be surprised if that were true.

Large poster boards displaying pictures are set up around the edge of the room on gold easels, so I walk toward one to admire the faces staring back at me. Groups of Marines and local veterans stand proudly shoulder to shoulder, dressed in their respective uniforms, or gathered together at local events with stoic expressions on their faces.

"Here you go." Astrid comes up behind me and hands me a glass of champagne, pulling my attention from the photos.

"Thank you. I don't know what I was expecting, but this is quite the event."

"They seem to have upped their game this year." She looks around the room. "It gets better every year, but they definitely put in extra effort tonight. Probably to honor Mr. Sheppard."

Sheppard?

It can't be.

But before I can give this revelation more thought, I'm pulled back to the room full of people around us.

"Astrid Cooper, dear. You look lovely." A woman approaches us, and I immediately recognize her from the chair fiasco at the hardware store. She pulls Astrid in for a hug while my heart continues to hammer.

"Hello, Mrs. Hansen. How are you?"

"Doing well, dear. How are you?"

"Oh, just grateful to have a night away from the kids." They share a laugh.

"I remember those days well. Enjoy the time for yourself." She looks around Astrid and finds me, her eyes going wide. "Willow? Is that you?" Her eyes bounce up and down my body as she assesses me, but the same kindness in her voice she had speaking with Astrid is now laced with curiosity.

"Yes. Hello, Mrs. Hansen. It's nice to see you again."

"Likewise, Willow. I must say, it's a surprise to see you here."

Great. Even other people are picking up on my hermit tendencies. "Yes, well, I thought this event was worth venturing out of the house for."

"Hmm. And how is that chair working out for you?" she asks, referring to our encounter from almost a month ago now.

Reigning in my desire to be snarky, I reply as sweetly as possible, "Perfectly. Thank you. Well, thanks to Dallas, really."

"Glad to hear. I hope you're finding Carrington Cove to be welcoming to you."

"For the most part it has."

"Except for the asshole you met at Catch Release your first night here, huh?"

I spin around to find Dallas standing behind us, clearly eavesdropping on our conversation with a pleased smirk on his face. But it's what he's dressed in that's taking my breath away.

I feel like Rachel in that episode of Friends where Ross comes into Central Perk, dressed in a Navy Sailor's uniform, fulfilling one of her fantasies.

Except Dallas is wearing his Marine dress blues, and I didn't know that a man dressed in uniform was one of my fantasies until now.

I've seen many men in a suit, but none of them even compared to the fine male specimen standing in front of me. And the worst part is, he's not even trying—he just does so effortlessly.

He's wearing that uniform like it was designed just for his body.

It makes me both hate him and want him even more.

It's bad enough that Dallas is the type of man that is good-looking in a rugged way—a manly way—the type of man that makes blue jeans and a simple black shirt look like a coat of armor or the newest version of male lingerie. His aviators seem custom-made to highlight the sharp lines of his face, and when he takes them off to reveal his eyes can hold you captive with a searing power that makes you feel frozen in place.

But now I know he can make a uniform look better than a five-piece suit.

And that beard.

I never thought a beard was something I would be attracted too, but Dallas wears his trim beard like he is the spokesperson for facial hair.

And I'm becoming desperate to feel it burn the inside of my thighs.

His presence is overwhelming—strong, proud, intense, and yet comforting, like being in his vicinity means you don't have to look over your shoulder at every turn. Although, in a town like Carrington Cove, I assume there's not much to be wary of, unlike D.C.

And that's when I realize he makes me feel protected—and that's a more serious problem than the throbbing between my legs.

As I come back to reality and remember that I have a voice, Mrs. Hansen chimes in. "Oh, that can't be right. I expect better from you, Dallas."

"Yes ma'am. And I assure you I'm working on making it up to her."

Flabbergasted, I continue to stare up at him as Astrid clears her throat. "Well, Mrs. Hansen, it was so nice to see you, but I'm going to take Willow around to mingle a bit. We'll catch up with you later."

"Oh, yes, dear. Have a good evening. I'm going to go find my husband before his speech." She pats Astrid on the arm before walking away, and I finally feel like I can breathe again, even if for just a second.

"Hello, Willow," Dallas says, pulling my attention back to him.

I clear my throat and straighten my spine. "Hello, Dallas."

As I stand there, I watch his eyes eat me up appreciatively, and I swear I can feel the livewire of electricity move across my skin with his eyes. "You look…"

"Dallas!" A short brunette waves her hand in the air, marching across the room toward us and interrupting his thought. "Where the hell have you been?"

Irritation washes over him, but he brushes it off quickly. "I just got here, Hazel. Calm down."

"Can you please just come over to our table? Mom looks like she's getting overwhelmed, and I think it would make her feel better if we were all there."

His eyes bounce between me and the woman whom I now know is his sister—a detail I know thanks to Astrid's intel, though the uncanny resemblance between them would give it away regardless. "Yeah, I'll be right there." Hazel rolls her eyes before walking away, but thankfully, Astrid chimes in.

"Go, Dallas. We'll catch up with you later. I'll make sure to come by and say hello to your mom. I haven't seen her in a while."

Every feature of Dallas's face finally softens. "She'd like that, Astrid. I'll see you both later then, I guess."

"We'll be here."

"Glad you're here, Willow." With a curt nod but a lingering stare, he walks away, leaving us standing there as I study his purposeful strides and the way his body is enhanced by every line of his suit.

"You okay there, girl?" Astrid asks, stepping directly in front of me so I have no choice but to focus on her.

"Uh." I swallow roughly and nod. "Yeah."

"I think you have a little drool coming out of the side of your mouth." She reaches toward me as if to wipe it off.

"What? No I don't!" I reply, reaching up to wipe the corner of my lips and finding nothing there.

Astrid just laughs at me. "Jesus, Willow. Could you be any more transparent?"

Sighing, I tip back the rest of my champagne and then search the room. "I think I need to walk around a bit. Get some fresh air."

Astrid narrows her eyes at me. "Yeah. Okay. Just don't go too far, and let me know if you need anything. I'm going to go say hello to a few people and I'll meet you at our table for dinner."

I nod. "Sounds good."

Astrid leaves me to my own devices, so I decide that another glass of champagne is necessary. I head toward the bar, secure my drink, and then continue to walk around the room, surveying the remaining posterboards displaying pictures.

There are so many stories, memories and lives lived and lost on the faces of these men and women. But there's also a sense of family, like everyone in this room is connected through this common organization, through the oath and purpose their loved ones took on by signing up to serve their country.

I wonder if that's how my parents felt—like they were part of this too, connected to the men and women they went to write about. I wonder if they ever thought they'd sacrifice their lives without agreeing to yield a weapon. And I wonder where I would be right now if they were still here.

Not in Carrington Cove, that's for sure.

I turn back to face the room full of people, catching several sets of eyes directed toward me. Dolly from the inn smiles and waves at me from across the room, but her face is the only friendly face I recognize in a crowd of strangers.

I've been in this town for a little over a month, and yet I still don't know many people here, which is glaringly obvious by the judgmental stares I'm receiving right now, accompanied by muttered observations.

With a deep breath of courage, I attempt to make the most of this evening and decide that this is as good of an opportunity as any to put myself out there.

I head for Dolly first, catching her up to speed on the developments with the house and sarcastically thanking her for my coffee and muffin addiction. She introduces me to Greg and Jenny, the owners of the Sunshine Bakery, whom I then proceed to gush to about the blueberry muffins—which, come to find out, is actually Astrid's recipe, and I can't believe she never told me. I'm going to give her shit for that later. Then they lead me to Judy, who created the scarecrow that Dallas got me, which she instantly picks up on the moment she sees me. My conversation with Judy leads me to Harold, Baron, and Thompson, the men I played darts with last week, who are apparently still bitter after their loss.

I'm having such a good time talking with these people that I feel slightly disappointed when it's interrupted by the call for dinner being served.

"Hey. You doing okay?" Astrid asks as we settle into our seats.

"Yeah, actually. I'm having a good time." My eyes nearly sting with tears as those words leave my mouth.

What is happening to me?

Surprise paints her features. "See? I told you. Tonight is going to be good for you."

We wait for our turn for the buffet, filling our plates with two different kinds of pasta, salad, and freshly baked bread. I fight the urge to moan out loud at the taste of the food because it's that delicious. But a few of the people we're seated with divulge that it's from a local Italian restaurant that catered the event for free.

For a moment I feel like I'm living someone else's life, until my phone buzzes with email after email coming through. Part of me wants to answer, but the other part of me knows that if it were urgent, Katrina would call me.

So, I decide to turn it off completely, which is something I haven't done in years.

But I don't want any distractions tonight.

My mind and heart are invested in this room full of people.

Mr. Hansen calls everyone's attention to the stage, beginning the festivities and presentations for the night. He gives a brief history of the center, and then passes the microphone to the Marine acting as the emcee for the ceremony.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!" His deep voice echoes through the sound system, pulling everyone's attention to the stage. "I'm First Sergeant Hank Lyle of the United States Marines, and it is an honor to be gathered with you all tonight." The crowd drops their utensils and rings out in applause. "I'd like to welcome you all to the thirty-third annual veterans' dinner at the Carrington Cove Center, and thank you for attending this celebration this evening."

He continues with his speech, going into the history of the Marines, how many local men and women have served, and how this center has expanded since it was founded over thirty years ago. Then he moves into discussing the Marines that lost their lives this year, starting with active duty.

Emotion clouds the room as family after family gathers on stage, receiving a plaque from the center in honor of their loved ones. A few of the men were so young, less than three years into their service when they died in battle. One woman died while saving the life of a civilian off-duty.

And then the crowd grows quiet as Sergeant Lyle clears his throat and speaks about the last recipient.

"I know that the last person we're here to honor tonight is no stranger to most of you in this room. If you have been around this center in the last thirty years, then you know the man we're about to talk about was a pivotal player in the services we offer to our Marines. Michael Sheppard dedicated time and energy into the healing process that many men and women require and need after serving in active duty, both on and off the battlefield. He paved the way for us to offer counseling services and co-sponsors for those that faced problems with addiction. He spent more time in this building than he probably did in his own home." The audience chuckles and murmurs in agreement. "And though that man probably experienced some of the most gruesome and traumatic events during his service, he managed to come home and find a way to turn that experience into something good. Unfortunately, this year, he lost his battle with cancer and joined our Lord and Savior on the other side." He pauses to give everyone a moment. "It's a shame that a man can survive a war only to lose the battle for his life at home." The crowd grows eerily silent as goosebumps cover my skin.

He"s talking about the man who left me his house.

"It is with great honor that I recognize Sergeant Michael Sheppard tonight and his family for the service he not only gave to his country, but to this center. The entire crowd moves to their feet, and I follow their lead, clapping while my heart beats erratically and a sense of awareness creeps up my spine. "I would like to call Sergeant Sheppard's son, Staff Sergeant Dallas Sheppard, up to the stage along with his family as we honor his memory."

And time stands still before reality hits me, slamming into my chest like a freight train and stealing the oxygen from my lungs.

Oh my God, it can't be.

All eyes shift in the room as Dallas, his three siblings, and his mother all rise from their seats and gather on the stage as Sergeant Lyle presents them with a plaque honoring their dad.

This has to be a dream.

No. A nightmare.

Michael Sheppard is Dallas's dad?

His father is the mystery man who left me the Bayshore house, his dream house?

What the actual fuck?

All the noise and chatter around me fade away as the only thing I am aware of is the sound of my pulse in my ears. I feel my legs wobble beneath me as I stand in place, feigning a smile and compassion while I'm panicking on the inside.

Astrid looks over at me with tears in her eyes until she notices the change in my demeanor. "Hey. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I manage to croak out. "It just got really hot in here" I fan my face frantically. "I think—I think I'm going to go outside for some fresh air."

Perplexed but with no reason to question me, she just nods. "Okay. Let me know if I can get you anything."

I put on my best smile. "I'll be fine."

And then I walk away as fast as my feet will carry me without drawing attention to myself. Overwhelmed by thoughts that stir up unresolved feelings and a million questions, I find the nearest exit and barrel through it, grateful for the railing that I find in front of me as I reach for the cold metal and take a deep breath, fighting for oxygen.

Moonlight glows out against black water beneath me, the small lake off the back of the property providing a pristine backdrop for the evening, an endless abyss that looks oddly comforting right now, given the developments in the last few minutes.

I have no idea how long I've been out here until a voice behind me pulls me from my thoughts.

"Didn't realize I'd have company out here."

I spin around to see Dallas shutting the same door I just walked through behind him before joining me at the railing.

All I can think about is the name he shares with the man who was somehow connected to my parents.

Not the concern in his eyes as he approaches me.

Not the way he overwhelms me and makes my body heat up.

No.

It's the fact that this man has no idea how connected we are and how much more fucked up this entire situation between us just became.

"Are you okay?" he asks, checking me out from head to toe as if there may be something physically wrong with me. And then he reaches up and cups the side of my face with one of his hands, the singe from the contact of his skin against mine making my heart lunge forward and my body almost do the same.

I've been dying for this man to touch me again, and the sincerity of his caress is borderline overwhelming. Dallas's eyes stare down into mine, searching for answers that I can't give him, and some that I just don't want to.

Luckily, he can't see my inner turmoil or the invisible scars I carry.

The longer his hand remains on my face, the longer the world seems to be frozen around us.

"I'm fine. Just needed some air." The smile I give him is one I've practiced before so I know it's convincing enough, and with as much strength as I can, I remove myself from his grasp, turning away from him slightly and fighting to control the shaking of my hands.

"It can get pretty warm in there with all of those people." He reaches up and pulls on the collar of his shirt while avoiding my gaze. "And I forgot how hot this uniform can get."

Focus on the conversation, not what you just found out, Willow. Don't blurt out something stupid and make this situation even worse.

"What are you doing out here?"

"I guess I just needed some air too." He walks forward now, grabbing onto the railing and looking out over the water, blowing out a harsh breath. I look over at him briefly, but long enough to capture the shadows in the lines of his face, the way he looks so powerful and commanding in the darkness with his suit of armor on, but the light is catching the pain etched into the lines around his eyes.

"I'm sorry about your dad." Inside I slap myself in the forehead, berating myself for bringing him up, even though I know the sentiment is appropriate given the evening.

"Thank you. It was a rough year watching him whittle away. At least he's not in pain anymore."

"Yeah," I say, feeling my pulse increase with each passing second.

I need to get out of here. I feel the words on the tip of my tongue, bound to come out if I stay here for one more second. But I'll be damned if I taint this night for him or his family—for us.

I know I could share my own struggles with the loss of my parents.

I know I could apologize again for the fact that his dad isn't here.

But all I can focus on is who his dad is and how this man has played a pivotal role in why my parents aren't alive and why I'm in Carrington Cove to begin with.

We're finally starting to get along. My feelings toward him are shifting.

But now?

Now everything is one big clusterfuck and I need to process it.

This information about his dad changes everything.

"So—" he starts, but I cut him off.

"I'm sorry, Dallas. I need to go." I twist away from him, walking as quickly as my heels will allow and leaving him confused, I'm sure.

"Willow!" he calls after me.

But I don't turn back around. I walk back through the door I came out of earlier and hunt down Astrid as quickly as I can.

"Astrid?"

She spins around from her conversation with a few other women to find me practically hyperventilating. "Willow? What's wrong?"

"I'm—I'm just not feeling very well. I hate to do this, but I need to leave." I twist to the side, glancing toward the stage where Dallas's family is seated at their table, their mother wiping tears from under her eyes, and my heart crumbles once more.

"Oh. Okay. Do you want me to come with you?" She moves to reach for her purse from the table, but I stop her.

"No. I'm fine. Please stay. I just need to know that you'll be able to get home."

"Yeah, I'm sure Penn could give me a ride."

"Okay. Perfect. Thank you. Again, I'm so sorry." I grab my purse, trying to hide the tremor in my hands as I do.

"It's okay. I hope you feel better." She rubs my arm before I turn to walk away.

With a tight-lipped smile, I head for the front entrance, feeling Dallas's stare on me as he comes back inside, but I don't dare look in his direction. I just keep moving forward—out of the crowd, out to my car, and back toward my house—Dallas's dream house that his father gave to me.

Once I'm settled inside, the walls that were starting to feel like a home now feel like they're closing in on me, hiding secrets under the drywall and in every nail holding the place together.

Just when my heart was beginning to open up to the possibilities and people here in Carrington Cove, yet another revelation has stirred emotions that I don't want to deal with.

However, nothing could have prepared me for the visitor I received later that night, another person tangled in this web I'd been drawn into that made the plot thicken even more.