Even though Jack was already dressed for dinner, he carried the towering stack of pizza boxes to the trash can, which he’d also forgotten to put out for collection last week, and stuffed them in. That was the least he could do, just in case Marina came over after dinner.
Tonight was an important do-over. After Kai’s wedding last week, he’d made another reservation at Beaches.
Jack turned and slipped on some muddy muck and nearly went down. Catching himself on the trashcan, he hoped that wasn’t something Scout had left behind. Dragging the sole of his polished Italian loafer along a patch of grass to clean it, he thought about the night ahead.
To say he was nervous would be an understatement. He had a lot to make up for, and his future hinged on his ability to persuade Marina. Even though they were officially engaged, he’d felt definite vibes from her that she was pulling away from him.
He should know. The language, the maneuvers—he knew them well. Only he was usually the one employing those tactics.
“Clean enough,” he muttered, checking his shoe. Only the scent of sweet grass and earth filled the air. He’d avoided disaster, yet he still didn’t have much time before he had to be at the restaurant. This time, he couldn’t be late. All day he’d been thinking about how Marina would react, hoping she could see the love he had for her.
From the far corner of the yard, Scout looked up from his favorite napping spot.
Scout. Jack remembered something. Did he have food and water in his dishes? He’d have to check.
An hour ago, the surfers had finally left the unit over the garage. Jack dreaded seeing what sort of a mess they’d left, but he couldn’t be bothered right now.
Cleaning up after his short-term visitors had left him little time to look after his own place. He’d been embarrassed by the state it was in when Marina came over, although the living room hadn’t been that bad. He was thankful she hadn’t noticed.
Tonight, he had to get their relationship back on track. He made his way into the living room and reached for the faded, red velvet ring box to get a good look at the band that had been his grandmother’s. That was the one thing he couldn’t forget.
He’d surprise her about the house, too.
Reaching for the light, he flicked it on to get a better look at the ring, but the bulb popped and fizzled out.
He blew out a breath to calm his nerves. He picked up the box and hurried into the kitchen. Inside the original velvet box was a platinum band with a double row of diamonds. Not too small, not too large.
Taking out the ring, he held it up to the light over the kitchen sink. The ring was just as beautiful as he’d recalled. His sister’s husband had given her a lovely wedding ring, and she also wore their mother’s from time to time. She’d been happy to send this one to Jack.
He hoped the band would fit Marina, but they could size it.
If she liked it.
Turning it from side to side under the light, he thought, I should clean it for her. A quick rinse would only take a second and give it a nice shine.
He turned on the water.
Just then, Scout burst through the doggie door and bounded toward Jack. The dog was flying in fast and low on a short landing strip.
“Whoa, boy,” Jack yelled in warning, but it was too late to dodge him. Scout skidded and slammed into him, knocking Jack hard against the deep, farmhouse-style sink.
As if in slow motion, the ring catapulted from his fingers on impact and bounced in the sink. Jack pounced, trying to catch it on the rebound, but it sailed up and then straight down, right into the middle of the open drain—clean as a basketball with nothing but net.
“No! No, no, no!” Jack plunged his fingers into the drain after it, cursing himself for not having it covered with one of those stainless steel drain covers he’d been meaning to buy. But it was useless. Quickly, he thrust off the water and banged his fists on the countertop.
“Why? Why now?” he yelled. His frustration level soared off the chart.
Whining, Scout pawed Jack’s freshly dry cleaned trousers.
“What?” Then he remembered. The dog’s bowls were empty.
Jack gritted his teeth. “You’re going to wait a long time for supper after that trick.”
As if apologizing, Scout lowered his head and whimpered, pawing Jack’s polished loafers—leaving scratches on them.
“Don’t do that. Just wait. You’ll get your supper as soon as I get that ring.”
Jack flung open the cabinet doors under the sink. A lone can of scrubbing powder for the sink and a canister of anti-bacterial wipes sat in his way. Shoving them aside, he glared at the offending pipes, wondering if the ring was caught in the curved trap or if the running water had carried it off to the dark oblivion.
He tugged on the pipes, trying to loosen them, but they were old and stuck, and he didn’t have the right tools for the job. He’d done plenty of plumbing work on the farm when he was younger, so he knew what he was missing. A wrench, for starters. Maybe he could go to a neighbor’s house and borrow some tools. If they had any.
Scout whined behind him again.
“Okay, but one thing at a time,” he snapped. Backing out of the small space, Jack whacked his head on the cabinet. “Ow,” he cried, blinking against a flash of swirling stars. He rubbed a rising lump.
He’d nearly knocked himself out. Feeling dazed, he sat on the floor and waited for the sickening feeling to pass. The kitchen clock ticked loudly in the silence.
Seeing the time, he winced. He was late. Patting his pockets, he fumbled for his phone to call Marina but found nothing. He’d probably left it in the bedroom.
Scout crept toward him. Sensing his injury, he licked Jack’s face.
“I know you mean well, but not now.” Pushing himself up, Jack wobbled toward the cabinet where he kept the dog food. He grabbed the bag and dumped a mound of crunchy morsels into Scout’s bowl, and then filled the other one with water.
“There, happy now?” He ruffled the fur around Scout’s neck. “Didn’t mean to yell at you.”
Jack thought about what he could do. Whatever he did, it had to be fast. He made his way to his bedroom and snatched his phone.
“Watch the place for me, Scout,” he yelled as he dashed out the front door, making sure he left it unlocked.
Every minute counted now. As he hurried to his car, he punched Axe’s number. “Please, please answer.” Fortunately, the amphitheater was dark tonight, but he didn’t like to disturb him after hours. However, Jack didn’t know anyone else who would know what to do.
“Hello?”
“Thank goodness you answered. It’s Jack, and I hate to ask, but I could sure use a favor. I’ll make it worth your while.”
Quickly, he explained the problem. “And I planned to give Marina the ring tonight at dinner. Five minutes ago, actually.”
“Oh, man, you’ve really messed up.”
“I know. Can you give me a hand?”
“Since you’re almost family, I’ll be right over.”
Jack thanked him as he turned the ignition of his old VW van. “And Axe? There’s one more favor I have to ask of you.”
Except for the occasion that Jack had hauled Scout out of Beaches, he’d never been to the restaurant, and he hadn’t gotten a good look at it then. Jack rushed inside and greeted the maître d’, who often went to Marina’s cafe.
“Hi, Russell. Is Marina here yet?”
The maître d’ glanced at him with a degree of disgust over his tardiness. Jack thought about the night he’d stood up Marina and instantly felt like a louse again. He was wreaking havoc with Russell’s reservation list.
“You’re late. But at least you’re here. Marina’s waiting at a table on the patio, but you…” He wrinkled his nose. “You smell like a dog.”
Jack sniffed his hand. “Oh, sorry. I had to feed Scout.”
“Again with Scout?” Russell shook his head and gestured toward a hallway. “Men’s room, that way.”
“Thanks.”
“And Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“Good luck tonight.”
“I think I’m going to need it. Thanks for fitting us in.” Jack snapped his fingers. “Say, if a big guy comes in looking for me, could you let me know?”
“You may certainly count on that,” Russell replied, smoothing a hand over his perfectly coiffed hair.
After washing off the dog-pizza-rusty-pipe odors, Jack tucked in his shirt and straightened his collar before making his way to Marina. Russell hadn’t been able to accommodate him with the best table on short notice, but he had promised a nice table on the small, bougainvillea-draped patio that looked out to the beach.
Although Jack had visited a lot of high-brow establishments all over the world, this was the most upscale restaurant in Summer Beach. Wide windows offered dramatic views of the ocean, and a pianist played on a black, baby grand piano. Everywhere he looked, people were dressed for their special occasions.
Jack stepped into the intimate garden off the main dining room. The romantic setting was perfect.
So was Marina. He paused, staring at her profile. She wore a stylish black sundress that he’d never seen and a strand of South Sea pearls that glowed with the same luminosity as her skin. Suddenly, without seeing him, she stood and picked up her purse.
She was leaving.
Jack’s heart almost thudded to a stop. He rushed to her side. “Marina, please sit down. I’m sorry I’m late.”
She whirled to face him. “I’m not sure why we’re doing this—other than you feel like you owe me dinner here. Let me make this easy for you.” She made a move toward the door.
Jack touched her arm. “Can’t we just talk? I owe you a lot of explanations.” He pulled out a chair for her. After hesitating, she sat down again, although somewhat reluctantly. He took a seat next to her where he could watch the doorway.
Candles flickered on every table, and twinkling lights lined the arched, stone garden walls. Beyond them, the setting sun flung coral streamers across the sky. He hoped the ambiance would help his cause.
“This is a beautiful place,” he began.
She pursed her lips. “Is that all you’re going to say?”
That was lame, he admitted, passing a hand over his hair. “My life is…complicated.”
“It always is, Jack. I hope Leo is alright?”
“He’s fine. My being late tonight didn’t have anything to do with him. Just my poor choices.”
Marina studied him thoughtfully. “You’ve been making a lot of those lately. What’s going on with you?”
He had no idea where to start. Just then, his phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out, fumbling with the ringer. It was Axe.
Marina glared at the intruding device. “You’re not going to answer that, are you? Unless it’s Leo, what could possibly be more important this very minute?”
Jack silenced it. Axe would find the ring or he wouldn’t. Answering his call wouldn’t make a difference. “Can we just pick up where we left off at the Seashell? You looked so happy for Kai and Axe.”
It took a few moments, but she finally smiled. “That was a wonderful night for them, and for all of us. Leave it to Kai to pull off a remarkable wedding.”
Jack wanted to say something about their wedding and how it could be just as special, but he figured he should test the shallow waters first. Marina had become evasive, and aside from his apparent penchant for the ill-timed faux pas, he wasn’t sure why she’d had a change of heart. It seemed the closer he got, the more she pulled away.
Or was it just his imagination?
At any rate, she was smiling now. He flicked a glance toward the doorway, wondering how long it took for Axe to wrench a pipe free. Maybe he should explain what happened tonight.
Yet before he could say anything, a waiter approached their table and explained the specials.
“Those sound delicious,” Jack said. “Would you give us a few minutes?”
“Of course.” The waiter poured two glasses of champagne, compliments of the chef, and left to check on another table.
However, neither Jack nor Marina touched the flutes.
Jack kept the conversation pleasant on the topic of Kai and Axe as long as he could until Marina finally changed the subject.
“Jack, we need to talk.”
“I know we do.” He glanced toward the doorway again.
Marina noticed. “Are you expecting someone else?”
“I don’t know.” Wouldn’t Axe have been here by now if he’d found the ring? “I meant, no. Of course not.”
Jack was so embarrassed over his gaffe. Marina wouldn’t believe it anyway. I dropped your ring down the sink was a lot like The dog ate my homework. He took her hand and stroked it.
She gave him an odd look and shook her head. “About the point of our last date here—and I use that term loosely because it was only half a date—my half.” She narrowed her eyes. “I’d like to know. Had you planned to propose that night?”
Her words were a punch in the gut. “I was. And I admit that I was a jerk. An utter imbecile. A scatter-brained, ill-mannered, inconsiderate jerk.”
She folded her arms. “You repeated that last one.”
“Well, it bears repeating, doesn’t it?”
Jack shifted to get a better look at the doorway. If only Axe would walk in with the prize, the magic talisman that would transform Jack back into the hero in Marina’s eyes, not that he deserved that title.
Touching her shoulder, he went on, desperate to regain her confidence in him. “If not for Leo’s proposal, we might not be here now.”
Marina allowed a small smile. “About that. Leo is such a little sweetheart, and his proposal really touched me, but I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything.”
“Pressured?” He placed a hand on his chest. “I can think of a plethora of words I would reach for instead—honored, privileged, grateful, awed, thrilled—but pressured isn’t one of them.”
“You’re a regular thesaurus, aren’t you?”
Grasping her hand, he kissed it and brought it to his heart. “I’ve never asked a woman to marry me. I’ve never even told a woman I loved her. Because I’ve never felt deep love for a woman until I met you. And that’s why I’m so lame at this.”
At a table next to them, an elegant gray-haired woman smiled at Jack’s words and took her husband’s hand.
At least he was reaching someone.
Lowering her gaze, Marina stared at the flickering candle on the table. She seemed to be grappling with her feelings for him, too.
Jack could feel the love she had for him, but something was holding her back. He glanced toward the door again. Just a moment longer, he thought, willing Axe to burst through the door.
Yet, it shouldn’t have taken Axe this long. Not with the proper tools.
He wasn’t coming, Jack realized, his spirits flagging. The ring might be lost, but Marina was here with him now. He couldn’t lose her.
In desperation, Jack began his plea. “This is the part of my speech where I’m supposed to reach into my pocket and—”
“Don’t,” Marina cried, throwing up her hands.
Jack frowned. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to. But isn’t that what you want?”
“Wait, what do you mean, you can’t? I saw an antique ring box at your house.”
So she had seen it. Jack pressed a hand to his forehead. “I have a lot of issues you should know about. I can’t cook—except for barbecue. I’m sort of a slob—”
“Sort of?”
“I can work on that. But I’m also a klutz. Fumble fingers.” He waggled his fingers. Now he was rambling.
Marina narrowed her eyes. “I’m not following.”
With a deep sigh, he pushed a hand through his hair. “I need to confess something. I have, or probably had, a very special ring for you. It means a great deal to me—it was my grandmother’s—and I’d hoped it would mean a lot to you, too. But tonight, right before I left, I bobbled it.”
“You did what?”
“Bobbled it.” He waved his hands in front of him in an awkward pantomime.
“What exactly does that mean?”
He lowered his voice in shame. “I dropped it down the kitchen sink.”
The woman at the next table looked at him with sympathy.
“Oh.” Marina looked down, studying her hands. “Look, Jack. I’ve been thinking…we don’t have to get married. Not right away. Or anytime, really. I won’t hold you to your son’s proposal.”
Jack’s heart dropped. “Tonight isn’t about the ring. Well, it was, but I’ll find another one, just what you want. Let’s say that tonight is about us—and our spending our lives together.”
Marina grew quiet. Jack didn’t know what else to say. He was pleading for their future, for the life he knew they were meant to have together. How could he win her back?
And then it struck him. She wasn’t a prize to claim. Of all the women he’d known, Marina was different. She didn’t need him, and he respected her for that. He loved her independence, her will, her determination. And the way she used to look at him, full of admiration for his accomplishments—for stepping up to care for Leo, for bringing Ginger’s stories to the page.
Would she ever look at him like that again?
Slowly, Marina shook her head.
Jack pushed away from the table. “You’re right. As much as I love you, I can see that I don’t deserve you.”