Warm Nights in Magnolia Bay by Babette Jongh (best fantasy books to read TXT) 📕

when they pulled up, and so was Reva’s friend Heather. Mack pulled in right behind them, and Sean’s mother dropped him off a few minutes later.

Fueled by an enormous salad, a big pan of lasagna, and three loaves of garlic bread, the conversation soon evolved into a lively brainstorming session on the future animal shelter and Bayside Barn’s role in it. Quinn kept looking at his phone, so much so that Reva felt compelled to comment. “Are we boring you, Quinn? Or maybe you’ve got somewhere else to be?”

Quinn grimaced. “I invited a friend to come and help us brainstorm about the new shelter. I knew he couldn’t make it for dinner, but I thought he’d be here by now.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “I’m just gonna step outside and try to give him a call. I hope he’s not lost on a back road without a cell signal.”

“While you’re at it, make sure the porch lights are on so he can see the house from the road.”

When people started clearing the table, Reva stood and tapped Sean on the shoulder. “Hey, wanna help me with something?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He followed Reva through the house into the supply closet.

“You start on this side, and I’ll look on the other. We’re looking for a big pad of poster-sized Post-it notes. I know they’re in here somewhere.”

While they dug through the dusty shelves, Sean accidentally knocked down a box that popped open when the corner hit the floor. “Oops, sorry.” He knelt down to pick up the scattered contents, then stood with a plastic star in his hand. “Oh, wow! I have one of these from when I visited here in the third grade.”

“Oh my goodness.” Reva thought they’d long since used all those plastic stars; now they used stick-on ones, because kids these days couldn’t be trusted with a stick-pin. “I didn’t know we still had any of these left.”

Sean reached up for the next same-sized box on the high shelf and brought it down. “You have bunches of them.”

“Could you check if that other box up there…?”

Sean brought down a third box and lifted one of the flaps. “Yep. Stars in here, too.”

“Awesome. Set those over by the door, please. I’ll figure out what to do with them later.”

She found the pad of poster Post-its and handed it to Sean, then picked up a box of colorful Flair pens.

In the dining room, she put the pens in a coffee mug on the table. “Sean,” she instructed, “stick one of those poster sheets on each of the sliding glass doors and the windows facing the pool; enough for everyone here to have their own page to draw on.”

Georgia gave a high-pitched warning bark and rushed out through the dog door.

“Put up one for Quinn’s friend, too. That must be him arriving.”

Heather came up, drying her hands on a dish towel. “Kitchen’s clean.” Her round cheeks were pink, and the humidity had coaxed her shoulder-length blond hair into gentle waves. “What else can I do to help?”

Reva hugged her friend. They’d met a year ago at a grief support group right after Heather’s husband died, and despite the difference in their ages, they’d developed a true friendship. Reva might even say that Heather was her best friend. “You don’t need to do a thing, honey. Unless you need me to give you a job so you won’t hurry back home to the kids.”

Poor Heather, suddenly left with three kids to raise by herself. At least Dale had left them with enough money that Heather—a stay-at-home mom—hadn’t had to sell the house or find a job right away.

“I’m not in a hurry to get home.” Heather grinned, her green eyes crinkling at the corners. “Erin made me promise not to come home until after the twins’ bedtime. She’s saving up for a new phone.”

The back door opened, and Quinn—typical man—brought his friend into the house through the laundry room (which at least was blessedly clean except for Reva’s suitcase of dirty clothes on top of the dryer). Heather, standing beside Reva, didn’t move or make a sound, but something about her energy shifted. Reva looked over to see Heather’s always-pink cheeks get even pinker. Surely not hot flashes… Heather was much too young for those.

“Hey, everybody,” Quinn said, diverting Reva’s attention from her friend. “This is my old college buddy, Adrian Crawford. He’s a business consultant, so I thought he might be able to give us some advice on getting the shelter going.”

“I hope y’all weren’t waiting on me. I had another meeting that ran late.” Completely at ease as Quinn introduced him around, Adrian looked like Hollywood’s impression of a business consultant, with his black slacks and rumpled business shirt over Superman muscles, topped by an almost too-pretty face and a two-hundred dollar haircut. “Then I got lost. I drove past here twice before I noticed the porch light.”

Quinn introduced Adrian to Reva, and then to Heather.

Adrian took Heather’s hand and smiled a smooth and easy smile that warmed the depths of his deep blue eyes.

Ohhh. Reva looked at Adrian, and then back at Heather. No wonder she was blushing. Adrian was the kind of guy who could make any woman feel a little hot-flashy, and Reva knew that Heather hadn’t dated at all since her husband’s death.

Georgia jumped up to welcome Adrian, spreading joy and dirty paw prints and stray white hairs everywhere. Adrian released Heather’s hand and knelt to give Georgia his full attention, seeming not one bit concerned about the state of his expensive slacks. “Hey, little dog,” he crooned. “I haven’t met you yet. What’s your name?”

“It’s Georgia,” Reva supplied, looking at Heather over Adrian’s chestnut-brown head and those broad shoulders that challenged the seams of his tailor-made shirt. “Don’t let her get your pants dirty.”

“Aww,” Adrian drawled without looking up, “we aren’t gonna worry about that, are we, Georgia?” It almost looked as if he was avoiding further contact with Heather as he ruffled Georgia’s