For the first time he considered that perhaps his grandmother hadn’t been matchmaking after all. Maybe she had been trying to help him understand why Johanna was better off without him.
Eight
Settled deep in the front seat of the SUV, Johanna wrapped her arms around the dachshund mix in her lap and wondered how she’d gotten drawn back into a whirlwind of emotions for Stone so quickly.
At least once they arrived, she had the next few hours with people around to give her time to regain her footing before they were in a hotel together or some other romantic setting on this trip designed to tamper with her very sanity. She had time to build boundaries to protect her heart until she could figure out where they were going as a couple. Was this just sex for the week or were they going to try for more again? If so, they still had the same disagreements looming as before.
She hugged the dog closer as she looked through the window to take everything in. Could this day be any more convoluted? She was seconds away from meeting a political powerhouse couple. The general was reputed to be on the short list for the next secretary of defense. Ginger was now an ambassador and former secretary of state. Her oldest son was a senator. Who wouldn’t be nervous?
Stone, apparently.
He steered the car smoothly, but his mind was obviously somewhere else. “I never did know how Sterling ended up in my grandmother’s pack.”
His comment surprised her.
“One of her employees was older and developed Alzheimer’s. The retirement home the woman’s family chose didn’t allow animals.”
“That’s really rough. How did I not know that story?” His forehead furrowed as he steered the SUV up the winding path through beach foliage to the main house. “I wish my grandmother would have trusted me more to see to the animals after she’s gone so she could have the comfort of them now when she needs them most.”
Johanna stayed silent. She agreed 100 percent but saying as much wouldn’t change anything. The situation truly was a tough one. “It’s sad Sterling should lose his owner twice.”
“Life is rarely about what’s fair,” he said darkly before sliding the car into Park alongside the house.
He grabbed his hat and was out of the car before she could think of an answer. What was going on inside his head? This man never ceased to confuse her.
While she secured Sterling’s leash, she studied the grounds to get her bearings before she stepped out of the car. The beach compound was grander than the rustic Hidden Gem Ranch and more expansive than the scaled-back Donavan spread. She’d seen photos from a Good Housekeeping feature when she’d searched the internet for more details on the Landis and Renshaw families, who had joined when the widowed Ginger Landis married the widower General Hank Renshaw. But no magazine article could have prepared her for the breathtaking view as Johanna stared through the windshield. The homes were situated on prime oceanfront property. The main house was a sprawling white three-story overlooking the Atlantic, where a couple walked along the low-crashing waves. A lengthy set of stairs stretched upward to the second-story wraparound porch that housed the double door entrance.
Latticework shielded most of the first floor, which appeared to be a large entertainment area, a perfect use of space for a home built on stilts to protect against tidal floods from hurricanes. The attached garage had more doors than an apartment complex.
A carriage house and the Atlantic shore were in front of them. And two cottages were tucked to the sides around an organically shaped pool. The chlorinated waters of the hot tub at the base churned a glistening swirl in the sunlight, adults and kids splashing.
It was a paradise designed for a big family to gather in privacy. The matriarch and patriarch of the family—Ginger and the general—appeared on the balcony porch looking like any other grandparents vacationing with their family. Relatives of all ages poured from the guest quarters. Three other dogs sprinted ahead. Not quite the careful, structured meet and greet that worked best, but clearly this home was about organized chaos.
She stepped out of the car, setting Sterling on the sandy ground while she held tight to the leash. The family tableaus played out in full volume now. She could hear a little girl squealing with laughter while her dad taught her to swim in the pool. A mom held a snoozing infant on her lap while she splash, splash, splashed a toe in the water. Voices mingled from a mother’s lullaby to a couple planning a date night since grandparents could babysit.
Johanna saw her own past in the times her parents had taken her swimming in a pond and saw the future she wanted for herself, but couldn’t see how Stone would fit into it. She was killing herself, seeing all these happy families while was stuck in a dead-end relationship with a man who would never open up.
All luxury aside, this kind of togetherness was what she’d hoped to build for herself one day. Those dreams hadn’t changed. Which meant she’d landed herself right back into the middle of a heartache all over again.
* * *
Stone sat at a poolside table with Ginger and Hank Renshaw, pouring over their adoption paperwork. If anyone had told him a week ago that he would be grilling them to be sure Sterling would be a happy fit for their family, Stone would have said that person was nuts.
Yet here he was, quizzing them and watching the way they handled his grandmother’s dog— Correction. Their dog now. Sterling was curled up in Ginger’s lap, looking like a little prince, completely unfazed by the mayhem of children cannonballing into the deep end while a volleyball game took place on the beach.
Stone nodded somberly, pulling his hat off and setting it aside. “It’s important that Sterling get along with children.”
“Amen,” the general agreed, having stayed silent for the most part, a laid-back gramps in khaki shorts and a polo shirt. “We have double digits in grandkids. Christmases are particularly chaotic.”
This wasn’t chaos? Stone felt the weight of Johanna’s eyes on him, the confusion in her gaze. He gave her a reassuring smile, and she warily smiled back, which too quickly had his mind winging back to thoughts of last night, of how damn much he enjoyed making her smile...and sigh.
He cleared his throat, and his thoughts, turning his focus back to the older couple who’d clearly found a second chance at romance.
Ginger touched her husband’s arm, the former secretary of state completely poised in spite of the breeze pulling at her graying hair and loose beach dress. “Hank, we should have them test out the Rottweiler—Ruby—while they’re here, as well, since he will be part of the family, sort of, by going to Jonah’s father-in-law.”