“Yes,” she said simply, knowing she was now expected to elaborate. “I was married for five years.”
He cut an onion into quarters using swift, confident strokes with a sharp knife; then he added the pieces to the roasting pan. “Just asking,” he said. “Didn’t mean to pry.”
“Oh, you weren’t prying,” she told him hastily. It was comforting in a perverse way, knowing the two of them were both divorced. It was like meeting another shipwreck survivor who understood just what the other had endured.
She remembered seeing Logan’s ex at the end of summer, and wondered where he was in the recovery process. She could still picture the look of longing in Logan’s eyes when he’d handed his son over to the ex. And why not? The mother of his child was blonde and beautiful, with a glowing smile. Yikes, Logan might even still be in love with her.
“I wanted to make sure the coast was clear,” he said to Darcy.
“The coast?”
“For when I start hitting on you.”
She swallowed hard. Maybe she was wrong about his ex. “You’re going to start hitting on me?”
He plucked a pinch of salt from a small bowl. “Yeah,” he said. “I might.”
Her chest tightened. She remembered the never-again vow she’d made after her marriage. “How will I know if you’re hitting on me?” she asked, her light teasing tone masking apprehension.
He grinned. “You’ll be the first to know. Anyway, I’m glad you didn’t think I was prying. Prying comes later.”
“I can hardly wait,” she said.
He hoisted the turkey into the pan. “This,” he said, “is going to make you glad I’m single. It’s going to be the most delicious turkey you’ve ever tasted.”
“How did you end up with kitchen duty?” she asked.
“I volunteered. Later, everybody will pitch in.”
“And all hell will break loose?”
He grinned. “Pretty much.”
“So, tell me about the O’Donnell family traditions. Anything unusual?”
“Not unless you consider sibling squabbles, cranky kids and overeating unusual.”
“Oh boy. That sounds extremely familiar. Are you sure we’re not related?” She and Logan had plenty in common. On the one hand, it was kind of cool, feeling so comfortable with him, so quickly. On the other hand, this likely meant a relationship between them would never work. She and Huntley had had everything in common, yet ultimately they’d fallen apart. “What do you squabble about?”
“It’s mainly the kids who squabble these days. Although my old man’s not too pleased with me at the moment.”
“Why not?”
“I made a kind of impulsive career move. Sold my stable, lucrative, predictable, boring business for a crazy, risky, unstable one.”
“Are you talking about that ski resort in your town?”
“Yeah. Cool you remember it.”
“I think it sounds incredible. Congratulations.”
“My family thinks I’ve gone off the deep end.”
“I know the feeling. The first time I disappointed my parents was the moment I was born.”
“What, did you have a tail or something?”
“Ha-ha.”
“I’ve heard those can be removed.”
“It’s what I didn’t have that disappointed them.”
“What’s that?”
“A penis. After four girls, they were desperate for a boy.”
“You have four older sisters. And I thought I had it bad, with India and China.”
“And how is it your sisters were named after exotic foreign countries while you were named after an airport?”
“Quirky folks. I just feel lucky they didn’t call me Madagascar or Sri Lanka.”
“Yet another thing we have in common—quirky parents. Mine are English professors. My sisters and I are named after literary figures. I guess that makes them quirky but predictable.”
“Darcy. I can’t recall a Darcy from college English.”
“Hint—it’s a surname.”
He gave a short laugh. “As in Fitzwilliam Darcy? You’re named after Mr. Darcy?”
“It gets worse. My sisters are Mary, Kitty, Lydia and Lizzie. My full name is Darcy Jane.” She punctuated the list by plopping chunks of potato into a pot of cold water.
“Don’t tell me Lydia is married to a reverend...”
“Worse. A motivational speaker, who happens to be the brother of my ex.”
“And suddenly it all comes clear. You came to Florida to escape the dubious pleasures of the family Thanksgiving.”
“Exactly. It’s so much easier to get along with other people’s families.”
“Agreed. And can I just say, this dinner is going to be epic.” He slid the turkey into the oven. Then he looked around the kitchen and wiped his hands on a tea towel. “We’re finished for now. There’s nothing more to be done for about three hours. Let’s hit the beach.”
He flashed that killer smile again. Oh, why did he have to have a killer smile?
Chapter Six
Working alongside Darcy Fitzgerald in the kitchen didn’t suck. Logan freely acknowledged that. He kind of liked talking to her. He kind of liked her, as much as or maybe more than he had last summer. This was surprising, because he rarely—make that never—felt even a spark of interest in a girl who came preapproved by his family.
Yeah, he liked her, but she wasn’t his type. Life was simpler without the complication of a divorce survivor. And she didn’t even look like his type, particularly at the moment, in the floppy hat and shapeless robe. That layered-on style made her look like a human coat tree. Still, she had a fun personality and a cute smile. She was the type of girl to have as a friend, nothing more.
“Time for the beach,” he said. “You’re going to love it.”
“Lead on, Kemosabe.”
He walked through the breezeway and held the back door for her. His folks’ place had all the perks—an infinity pool and lush gardens, a small grove of orange and calamondin trees, a tennis court, a golf course bordering one side of the yard and on the other side, a scenic path through a bird marsh leading to the beach.
“Not too shabby,” she remarked, pausing to get a phone picture of a group of roosting flamingos.
“We spend every Thanksgiving here. The setting is not exactly traditional, though.”
“Traditions are overrated,” she said.
“Yeah? Which ones?”
“The ones that throw you together with people you don’t get along with and force you to pretend to have a good time.”
“Ouch.”
“Those are the traditions I’m talking about.”
“Well, when you put it that way...”
“Sorry.” A grin flashed beneath the wide brim of the hat. “Obviously my divorce did a number on me. I’ll get over it. I take it you got through yours.”
“More or less intact. The hardest part is splitting Charlie’s time. Makes me mental.” He ground his back teeth, thinking about the past couple of months. “The worst part for me is that he’s moving with his mother and stepfather to Japan.”
“Whoa, Japan?”
“My ex’s husband is in the air force. They’re moving right after Christmas, and they’ll be away for three years.”
“Sounds challenging.”
“It’s totally screwed up, but I’m going to have to make it work. Charlie has been flying on his own back and forth between his mom and me for the past couple of years, so he’s an old hand at it.”
Having to shuttle back and forth between parents had turned Charlie into an independent traveler. But the grin that lit his face each time he saw Logan was all little boy. The fact was, every time Logan saw his little boy walk through the arrivals door at the airport, with his backpack and roll-aboard in tow, travel documents in a packet around his neck, he nearly lost it. Yet for Charlie’s sake, he held himself together, told the kid he was proud of him. The Unaccompanied Minor guide could barely keep up with him as Charlie ran to fill his father’s arms. Logan never tired of feeling that rush of love and relief washing over him the moment they were reunited.