poked her sister. “What, you’re an attorney now?”
Ahead of them, Bennett laughed. “Come on, you two. Show me where to put these.”
“In my closet,” Ivy called out. She and Shelly divided the hanging clothes between them and hurried after him.
Bennett stacked the cartons in the closet and hung the clothing for them. As he glanced around the closet and bedroom, Ivy couldn’t help but wonder if he was mentally placing himself there. What would it be like after they married?
“Are you rearranging the furniture?” Ivy asked.
Sheepishly, Bennett ran a hand over his hair. “Caught me. Guess we’ll have to figure out where we’re going to live. I gave my tenants a two-year lease on my house.”
“Your room or mine, I suppose.” Ivy smoothed her hand over his shoulder.
“Doesn’t matter, as long as we’re together.” Bennett met her gaze and brought her hand to his lips. “I’ll get the rest of your things from the Jeep, and then I have a community meeting to attend.”
He nodded toward Shelly, who had already torn into the first box. “Mitch called and said he’s just returned from his boat with a big fresh catch. Red snapper, rockfish, and bluefin tuna. If you ladies are up for supper on the beach, we’ll barbecue on the patio. Sunny and Poppy, too, of course.”
Shelly’s eyes lit. “I sure love a man who can cook.”
“We’ll make a side salad and vegetable kabobs,” Ivy said. “Sunny has plans with friends tonight, but I’ll mention it to Poppy.” She appreciated that Bennett automatically included her daughter and niece in supper and other activities.
“That’s a plan then.” Bennett left to bring in another load of boxes. As she watched him walk down the hallway that she had filled with beach watercolor scenes she’d painted, a guestroom door swung open.
Gilda came out of her room clutching Pixie. The high-strung Chihuahua was seeing a doggie therapist for treatment for anxiety and kleptomania.
Bennett bent down to scratch Pixie behind the ears, and she eagerly yapped her approval. She loved Bennett. “Out for your walk with Pixie?”
“Every day if I can manage it.” Gilda’s short spiky hair was a brighter shade of pink today. “Pixie’s therapist says it’s good for socialization. I have my umbrella if it starts raining.”
After the Ridgetop fire that had swallowed Gilda’s home like a fiery beast, Pixie had lost her world, too, even though Gilda hadn’t had her very long before that occurred. The inn was fairly quiet, but occasionally guests were loud or up late. Dogs heard more than humans, and Ivy imagined that activity might be unsettling for Pixie.
Bennett grinned. “You two sure take care of each other. Are you writing any new articles this week?”
“An editor called yesterday with a new story. I’m working on an article about dating after the death of a spouse.”
“Tough subject,” Bennett said quietly. “If anyone can do it justice, I’m sure you can.”
“Would you mind if I asked you a few questions later?”
Bennett barely hesitated. “Of course. Happy to share anything that might help others.”
Leaning against the doorjamb, Ivy observed the exchange with interest. It was the little things Bennett did that meant so much to her. He was easy-going, active, and spontaneous, but most of all, he truly cared about people. Even the crabby ones such as Darla next door. He treated everyone he met with dignity and respect regardless of their station in life—or whether their behavior had earned it.
Looking back, Ivy had often found herself cringing at Jeremy’s mistreatment of restaurant servers and hotel staff. Over the last few months, she had been watching Bennett for any potential red flags: too much alcohol, signs of gambling, flirting, or watching other women when Ivy was with him.
She hadn’t seen any signs yet. Still, she was cautious. As her father had once said when she started dating, a little due diligence doesn’t hurt.
When Bennett disappeared down the stairs, Ivy turned away. She often wondered why he hadn’t remarried after his wife died. He told her he simply hadn’t found anyone. Yet it had been ten years, and Ivy knew the statistics. According to studies she’d read after Jeremy died, most men remarried within two to three years on average after their spouse died. Women took a little longer, if they remarried at all.
So why hadn’t Bennett been motivated to marry again, especially in the prime of his life when he could have started another family?
Ivy joined Shelly in the large closet. It was more than a closet; it was also