Christmas in Angel Harbor - Jeannie Moon Page 0,10
SUV was functional but had absolutely no style. Style. His agent would probably tell him “style” was shorthand for mid-life crisis. He’d be right.
The trip to town was so quick on a weeknight, he almost wanted to drive around for a while to gather his thoughts. Instead of following that urge, he found parking in the municipal lot right by the harbor. Before he headed to the bookstore, he walked the short distance to the water. Standing on the edge of the pier, he focused on the horizon, which was barely visible now that the sun had gone down. Having looked out on this same scene twelve hours ago drove home how light and dark could change your view of the world.
There were just a few clouds overhead, and those were quickly drifting by the bright quarter moon. A smattering of stars twinkled off the water, which was as smooth as black silk. It was completely still, allowing the air to carry background noise and music coming from the nearby bar. There were no boats, no other people, and the water looked bottomless and dark.
He’d spent half his life living in cities, and while there was a lot to love about a place like New York, the energy had faded and he found it isolating. Sure, he had friends; he dated. But late last year, after the murder, Dan realized the city had lost its ability to give him the buzz he needed to create. He was frozen.
His ideas had dried up; his motivation was gone.
It took months for him to realize he needed to come home.
Drawing a deep breath, Dan realized he could use this. It was more than just the natural beauty of the harbor. He’d forgotten how the water affected him, teasing his senses, calming him. A quiet harbor like this one was protected—safe. While he loved Hawaii, with its bright sunshine and crashing surf, the gray-green waters of Long Island reflected his mood.
He stored the specifics in his brain, trying not to focus on the regret that hovered just below the surface. He’d ignored so many facets of his past, the realizations were starting to stack up like cordwood before winter. He had been so damn full of himself. He’d disregarded everything—and everyone—who mattered. He’d pushed aside the people and places who had helped him tease the words out of his head. People who cared about him.
He’d pulled up roots years ago, never imagining it would be this small town that might actually save him.
“Man up, Gallo,” he muttered to himself. “Regret is a pointless emotion.” There would be no room for remorse when he got to the bookstore. He had a job to do, and he hoped Jane and the familiar surroundings would help him find the words that had been eluding him.
The table. It was scarred and ancient, but he had a feeling it was just what he needed. Or maybe it was Jane he needed. God knew, she was still easy on the eyes. That gorgeous mouth of hers could inspire the most stubborn writer’s block.
He was only half kidding when he told Ella about the Fallon magic. He was sure Mike Fallon was one of the old Irish Tuatha tribe, with his great barrel chest and his love of a good tale, and he’d definitely passed on a bit of the power to his daughter. Jane was always special, lithe and pretty, with a sweet disposition and sharp mind; she left him muddled whenever she was nearby. He’d been so happy to see her when he walked into the bookstore earlier, his tongue snapped back into a knot. “Hiya, Janie,” he’d said. Yeah, that was smooth. Words were his living, yet around her, he sounded like an idiot. She was still beautiful, maybe even more so. With just the right number of curves. Her blond hair was thick and silky, a honey gold that fell in gentle waves over her shoulders. Her eyes, a shocking hazel-green could bore a hole right through him.
She was brilliant and kind, and even though he’d walked away from her, and never spared a look back, she still welcomed him. He certainly didn’t deserve it.
Earlier, he’d noticed his pulse still beat a little faster when she was around. Jane Fallon was the girl of his dreams a very long time ago. She’d listened to him, encouraged him, and believed in him. She’d offered her heart, and he’d been too stupid to accept it.