If for Any Reason (Nantucket Love Story #1) - Courtney Walsh Page 0,24
with me liking Emily?”
“You ruin things, Dad. You’ll like her for a little while and then you won’t like her and she’ll never come around again. Just look at you and Mom.”
“Is that what you think?” Did Jana give her these ideas?
She looked at him pointedly. “Let’s be honest, Dad. You don’t have the best track record when it comes to relationships.”
“I’ve been kind of busy, Jolie.”
“Lots of other guys on your team had wives and kids.”
Her words hung there between them. It was the unspoken truth he didn’t have the courage to confront.
“Just don’t date Emily,” Jolie said. “She’s too nice for you.” His daughter stood up and looked at him. “Promise.”
The memory of Emily’s sweet smile raced through his mind. He looked at his daughter. Jolie’s being here this summer was his second chance, and he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it. He couldn’t—he knew he wouldn’t get another shot. “I have no plans to date Emily, JoJo.”
“Promise, Dad.”
“Fine, kid. I promise.”
She spun around on her heel and walked back inside the house, leaving Hollis on the porch with too many unwanted thoughts.
CHAPTER 9
MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND, 1989
JD’s workday slogged on. He caddied for a first-class blowhard named Rich Heard, which meant most of his afternoon was spent listening to the guy talk about how great he was, how much money he had, and why everyone else was an idiot.
JD wasn’t sure he’d last the entire summer carrying golf clubs for guys who were perfectly capable of carrying their own.
Mostly, he spent the afternoon thinking about the girl he’d met on the beach that morning. He knew the Ackerman name (who didn’t?) and he’d already been warned by two different people not to even attempt to date Isabelle, but he didn’t like being told what to do. If he was honest, it only made him want to date her more.
After he came off the course, he went straight to the staff locker room and cleaned up, wishing he had time for a shower. Wishing he had time to perfect his look before picking her up.
He hurried into a pair of khaki shorts—the same kind so many guys wore to the club, only without the designer label—and a striped polo shirt, which made him feel like an impostor.
Who was he trying to fool? He hardly had enough money to buy her a burger—it wasn’t like he could pretend more money into his wallet. One last glance in the mirror, and he figured this was as good as it was going to get.
As he left the club, Alan Ackerman strolled toward the pro shop with an older man.
Isabelle’s dad didn’t give JD a second glance. Typical.
He made his way down the sidewalk toward Children’s Beach, arguing with himself the whole way. He could just not show up—save himself the heartache of falling for a girl he had no business asking out in the first place.
And he was pretty sure if either of them were in danger of falling, it was him.
But no matter how much he tried to reason with himself, he couldn’t convince himself to go back.
He turned down the road and spotted her, sitting on a bench looking out across the water.
He stopped for a second. Let himself stare.
Her long, dark hair was pulled back into a loose braid, and she wore a flowy floral top with a pair of white shorts. Her skin was already slightly tanned, as if today hadn’t been her first day on the beach.
The sun lit her from behind, wrapping her in the perfect yellowish hue, and that’s when JD knew there was no going back.
Yes, he’d likely get his heart broken, but Isabelle was worth the risk.
He made his way across the grass toward the bench where she sat, eyes glued to her the entire time.
He felt completely unworthy.
He walked up behind the bench and drew in a deep, shaky breath.
Last chance to get out of here.
“Bella?”
She turned and faced him, and her big blue eyes nearly knocked the wind out of him.
“You’re late,” she said.
He glanced at his watch. “Only three minutes.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I was working up the courage to come over here.”
She held his gaze for a long moment, then looked away, doing a poor job of hiding her smile.
“Have you eaten?” he asked.
She shook her head.
He’d managed to scrounge enough money together to take her somewhere nice—at least, he’d have enough if he limited what he ate.
“There’s a place down on the beach where you can get hot dogs