Stranger on the Shore (Mirabelle Harbor, Book 4) by Marilyn Brant Page A

standards, but I’d begun to appreciate that about being here. I liked that it felt different. Tropical. Reminded me that I wasn’t living the same old, same old—however temporarily.
    “So, when you were in the backroom with Joy, the ladies told me that you all had just met today. That you came down from Mirabelle Harbor for the summer.”
    “That’s right,” I replied, but something about the way he phrased the question snagged at my memory. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why it poked at me.
    “Do you have family in the area?” he asked.
    I shook my head. “My sister and her husband live in New Haven, Connecticut, and my daughter is up in Ann Arbor, Michigan going to college. My ex-husband is somewhere in California,” I added, trying to drain the natural tension that crept into my voice at the mere mention of that asshat. “That’s the only family I have left.”
    Not that I really considered Donny my family anymore, of course, but I was aware of wanting to let Gil know that, once upon a time, albeit a long while ago, someone had wanted to marry me. And that, despite surviving the hellfire of divorce, I was also strong enough to have weathered it. That I’d now moved beyond it and, maybe, was even on amicable terms with my ex. Joy’s brother wouldn’t have to know the whole truth. Wouldn’t have to fully understand how the demise of those illusions of everlasting love still ripped my heart to shreds. And, honestly, I wouldn’t be in Florida long enough for it to matter.
    “Ah,” he said, not unkindly. “Most of my family is here now. Sister in Sarasota, as you know. Our mom, too. A few relatives back in Texas.” He shrugged. “It’s easy to keep track of the important ones when there are only a few.”
    I nodded in agreement, but didn’t fail to notice that he didn’t mention a wife—past or present. I also noticed there were no references to a girlfriend. Interesting. I never would have imagined someone so attractive would be single.
    “A couple of my employees have a bunch of siblings and at least a hundred cousins. I have no idea how they deal with that family craziness over the holidays.” He smiled as we strolled by the fudge shop, and he pointed down the street. “You still further down the block?”
    “Yes,” I said, finally recalling both the general area of my parking spot and the odd thing about his phrasing. Unlike Joy’s style of talking, there were no “y’alls” in his speech. And the way he pronounced his words didn’t sound remotely Texan either. That was odd. “Joy has more of a Texan accent than you do,” I observed. “It’s not an overwhelming drawl in her case, but it’s noticeably there. Did she live in Texas for longer than you?”
    He eyed me carefully with those curious baby blues, taking several long strides before he spoke. “Our parents divorced when she was eleven and I was eighteen,” he explained. “She was a minor, and I was a legal adult when our mom moved us to Florida. So, I actually never went back to Texas, whereas Joy was shuttled back and forth to San Antonio for seven more years.”
    I tried to process this new information, conscious of the fact that there had to have been details he left out. He’d never been back to Texas...in over twenty years? Did he see his father only when the man came to Florida then? “So, uh, does your dad still live there?”
    There was a lengthy pause yet again as Gil made a show out of scanning one of the side streets for parked cars. He was stalling . Fascinating! I couldn’t help but wonder why.
    Finally, he glanced over at me and nodded. “Yes, from what I hear,” he said briefly, not allowing time for follow-up questions. He cleared his throat and with an abrupt change of subject said, “I have a present for you.” He thrust the plastic Castaways bag at me.
    I squinted up at him as I took it. These Canton siblings were very generous people. I’d gotten more gifts from Gil and his sister that day