And Then Forever by Shirley Jump

protect her and her child. That knowledge added more weight to the Trust Kincaid side of the argument. But then she thought of Edgar Foster again, and tension twisted in her gut. Her base instinct was to protect her daughter, and not let a man who took in a stray dog and a needy sister distract her.
    “I can’t take that chance, Grace,” Darcy said. “Besides, he’s only here for a few days. What good would it do?”
    “You’ll never know if you don’t give Kincaid the opportunity to be the man he can be.”
    Darcy shook her head. She couldn’t do that. Couldn’t risk Emma’s future like that. The burger was done and plated, the fries piled high beside it. Darcy picked up the plate and turned toward the door. “Let me deal with the burger. The rest…”
    Grace arched a brow.
    “I’ll think about.” Darcy pushed on the swinging door with her hip, then turned right to head out to the deck. Kincaid was sitting in the same spot, the dog asleep at his feet. The late afternoon sun glinted off his dark hair. He looked so at home, so far removed from the Foster world, that for a moment, she was living in the past again.
    Darcy dragged herself back to reality. They weren’t teens anymore. They were adults, with histories and responsibilities. It would do her no good to see him as anything other than a problem. She laid the plate before him. “Here you go.”
    “Thanks.” The dog perked up, and Kincaid split the burger, tore it into smaller pieces, then dropped those into the dog’s bowl. He gave the pup a tender touch and the dog wagged her appreciation.
    Leave, Darcy. Just because he was nice to a dog doesn’t mean anything. “I’ll, uh, leave you and your new friend alone.”
    “Is it busy in the restaurant?”
    “Not yet. It’s early.”
    “Then stay with me.” He gestured toward the seat opposite him. “I need to pick a name for this girl.”
    Temptation curled inside her. She told herself she could use a minute to rest her legs, that it had nothing to do with the alluring thought of sitting beside Kincaid. “You don’t need me for that.”
    “Oh, but I do.” He grinned. “Remember the crab?”
    The memory flooded her, sweet and perfect, one of those ones that held in a person’s mind, because that simple moment had been a pivotal one. The day she had fallen in love with Kincaid Foster.
    They’d been walking the beach, just talking and laughing, with the kind of half flirting that young adults did: elbowing and teasing, testing the waters, so to speak, to gauge the other’s interest. Darcy hadn’t been sure she wanted to get involved with one of the Fosters—she hadn’t had to ask Kincaid if he was a member of that family; it was clear in the hushed whispers when he entered The Love Shack for the first time. She knew all about the Fosters, even then, only a few weeks into living on the island. They were the Fortune’s Island royalty and bane, all at the same time.
    He was rich and handsome and would be gone at the end of the summer, she’d told herself. Keep it just a fling, don’t connect, don’t fall for him .
    Then they’d found the crab.
    It was a hermit crab, no bigger than a golf ball, and he was upside down in his shell, legs clawing at the air, as if he could grasp a cloud and right himself again. The tide was going out, which took the water he needed further and further away with each passing second. Darcy hadn’t even seen the little crab on the ground; it had been Kincaid who’d seen him and bent down to scoop him into his palm.
    “Poor guy,” Kincaid said. “Let’s put him back where he belongs.”
    The care and compassion in Kincaid’s voice had surprised Darcy. She’d expected a spoiled rich kid, the kind who would walk right past something in need and ignore it, like she’d seen so many others do before. But he’d walked down to the water’s edge, heedless of the ocean licking at the cuffs of his jeans, and lowered the hermit crab into a sandy divot that had