Sand Castle Bay (Ocean Breeze) - By Sherryl Woods Page 0,43

with disdain. Only Gabi seemed to worship him, carving out a workaholic lifestyle for herself in Raleigh in an unmistakable attempt to get his attention. From what Boone had observed and heard, it hadn’t worked.

If Boone had needed a role model for the type of father not to be, Sam Castle would have been it. Even so, he’d wandered dangerously close to being exactly like him.

Jenny’s death had shocked him into taking a closer look at the man he’d become. He hadn’t liked what he’d seen. Ironically, even though she was long out of his life, on some level he’d found a way to blame Emily for that, too. After all, had he been able to throw himself heart and soul into his marriage, he wouldn’t have chosen work over his family time and again.

Emily’s return had raised all those complex emotions once more. Just the realization that he was still attracted to her had filled him with guilt. He’d shortchanged his wife, shortchanged his son, buried himself in work and, in the end, it had been for nothing. Emily still had a hold on his heart...and he hated that. Now she had a hold on his son, and he hated that even more.

Boone was suddenly aware that Emily was on her feet beside him, shaking his arm. All around them people were cheering.

He stared at her blankly, but instinctively stood up. “What happened?”

“B.J. just scored a goal, that’s what,” she said excitedly.

He looked at the field where B.J. was surrounded by his screaming teammates. B.J. looked toward the stands, a mile-wide smile on his face.

“Did you see?” he mouthed.

His words couldn’t be heard, but Boone knew what he wanted to know. He gave B.J. a big thumbs-up, his own smile as big as his son’s.

When play resumed, Emily regarded him curiously. “Where’d you go a few minutes ago?”

“I was right here,” he equivocated.

“Physically, yes, but you sure weren’t paying attention to the game.”

“My mind wandered for a minute, that’s all.”

She looked as if she had questions she wanted to ask, but for once she kept them to herself. Good thing, he thought, since talking to her about the mistakes of his life and her role in them would open a can of worms best left sealed tight.

* * *

In the end, B.J.’s team won the game, two to one. B.J.’s goal had been the winning one, and now everyone was going out to a casual restaurant in nearby Manteo to celebrate. B.J. bounced up and down in front of Emily.

“You’ll come, right? It’s okay, isn’t it, Dad?”

Emily saw that it was anything but okay with Boone. “Sweetie, I really should get out to Castle’s and see how things are going.”

“But you have to come to the celebration,” B.J. insisted.

Boone interceded. “You heard her, son. She has other obligations.”

“A half hour,” B.J. pleaded.

Used to getting his own way, he seemed to know all the persuasive tactics required—asking, pleading. Emily suspected there’d be pouting next.

“That’s not so long,” he told her. “I get a prize for scoring a goal. Don’t you want to see that?”

Emily glanced at Boone, who shrugged, clearly giving up the fight just as B.J. had obviously anticipated. Sadly, she wasn’t made of tougher stuff.

“A half hour,” she conceded. “Just till you get your prize. Cora Jane will definitely want to see a picture of that. I can take one on my cell phone.”

“You can ride with us,” B.J. said, dragging her toward their car.

“I really should take the rental car, so I can leave,” Emily protested.

“I’ll bring you back to get the car whenever you’re ready,” Boone said, his voice resigned.

At the restaurant, B.J. immediately bounded off to sit with his teammates. Emily glanced at Boone, who stood just inside the door looking thoroughly uncomfortable.

“You planning to ditch your unwanted date?” she asked lightly. “Maybe hang out with some single soccer moms?”

His lips twitched. “And hear about it from now till eternity from B.J.? I don’t think so.”

“I won’t tell anyone. After all, it would be pretty humiliating. Why would I tell?”

He laughed. “You might not, but B.J. will have a lot to say. He may not have a name for what he’s up to, but my son is matchmaking.”

Emily was genuinely startled by that. “He is? He’s only eight.”

Boone nodded. “That’s old enough, apparently. We can probably thank Cora Jane for planting the idea in his head. She’s not even subtle about her agenda.”

“No, she’s not,” Emily agreed. “So we’re just supposed to go along with

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