He seemed surprised. “I agreed to keep the books, to sell what I could. I wondered why the owner insisted they went with the place.” He held her coat while she slipped her arms inside, then turned her and did up the buttons as he spoke.
“There’s a lot of work in progress here, isn’t there? Some places look spanking new, others look old and tired. I guess that’s the charm of a tourist town. Past, present and future all bound together. I’m hoping Safe Harbor will live up to its potential this summer. In fact, I’m counting on it.”
“Me, too.” Annie just hoped the potential would arrive sooner rather than later.
“It looks a lot better than when I was a kid, though.” He pulled on soft leather gloves, easing each finger in as he spoke, apparently unaware that she’d spoken. “All I remember are a few older buildings, streets so bumpy they could trip you, and the dock. That dock was like a second home.”
“Sounds like you had a lot of fun here.”
“Sometimes.” The glow in his eyes seemed to dim a little. Then he smiled. “I’ll admit, I never cared much about anything but the water.” He held the door open for her.
Annie flicked off the lights, then stepped outside, grateful that the sun still shone, that the days had lengthened. Winter was almost gone, and she was glad. She loved the rebirth of life spring always brought. It meant hope, new beginnings, a chance to change.
“The water?” she murmured while wondering how to make a graceful exit.
“I was addicted to water. Am addicted.” He grinned at her puzzled look. “Boating,” he explained. “Give me a sailboat and a light breeze, and the rest of the world fades away.”
The way he said it, eyes flashing silver glints like wave crests rolling across the midnight deep, snagged Annie’s attention. Drew’s parents, her best friends, had been like that, totally relaxed in the world of water. They’d hoped to impart that love to their small son, but since their deaths, Drew hadn’t been on a boat, hadn’t expressed the least interest in them. That was one area in which Annie felt she’d failed her dearest high school friend—not teaching Rhonda’s son the joys of sailing. If the cousin took him soon, she’d lose her chance. Sadness at the emptiness of a life without Drew gripped her.
“That’s one reason I chose this place to set up my shop.” His stare grew more intent. “Though there were several other factors.”
It sounded like he was hinting at something. But Annie had no idea what that could be about, and she needed to get back to work.
“I see. Well, goodbye. And thanks.” Annie skipped down the church steps and traveled on the sidewalk toward home, a faded memory gurgling up from the depths of her mind.
Russ Mitchard reminded her of her father. Though he’d been dead for ten years, killed in a car accident in some far distant place, what she remembered of her dad bore a remarkable resemblance to the man at the church. No, it was far more than his tall, handsome looks. Her father’s reputation as a charmer, smooth, glib, funny, with the glitz and charisma that drew people like bees to jam, worked exactly the way Russ Mitchard had drawn Annie’s attention with his dancing eyes that promised so much.
Her protective radar beeped an alarm. Her father had cruised through life on his personality and wit. And he’d made her mother’s life a misery. Of course, she and Russ wouldn’t have much contact, but she’d be doubly careful. She had her business and Drew; that would take all her time. Besides, a handsome, rugged man like him would hardly be interested in Annie Simmons.
“Are you going somewhere?” Annie realized she was halfway home and he was still there, beside her, as they waited at the corner for traffic to pass.
“Of course I’m going somewhere.” He matched her step for step across the road, his hand slipping beneath her elbow when she tripped on a crack in the pavement. He chuckled. “Some things never change, especially potholes.” He volunteered nothing else.
“Well, this is my destination.” Annie tugged her arm away from him and stepped back. “I own the Lighthouse Bed-and-Breakfast.”
“That’s nice. It looks a lot better than the last time I saw it. You’ve done a lot of work.” He stared at her, head tilted in a lopsided way, asking a question without saying a word.
What he was asking wasn’t immediately clear. But something about that stare and the familiarity of it kicked her heart rate up a notch. Annie shifted, avoided his glance. Her mouth was dry, her palms sweaty. She swallowed, searched for something to say that would break his focus on her.
“Have you lived in Safe Harbor all your life?”
She nodded.
“I don’t remember you. You’d think I’d have run into you once or twice back then.” He smiled that playboy grin that sent her heart rate soaring.
“I assure you, I was quite forgettable as a child,” she told him dryly. “Shy, boring. Not at all the adventurous type. Besides, I didn’t spend much time near the water. I had other interests.” Like looking after her mother when her father’s usual promise of a summer vacation fell through—as it always had.
“Still, I think I’d have remembered you. If we’d met.” He smiled.
“Yes, well—” She turned, pulled open the door. “Good—”
“Oh, not goodbye, I hope. Not yet.” He stepped in behind her. “We’ve barely become acquainted.” Russ grinned again, that provocative smile flashing white against the rich, healthy tan of his face.
She didn’t want to become better acquainted. Not with him. She’d never been good with men. And this particular man made her more nervous than usual. Her palms were sweaty even though the spring breeze off the water chilled the outside air. She shifted nervously.
“I have to go now.” She walked toward the counter, turned and saw him standing there. “Can I direct you somewhere?”
“I’m already there—er, here. But thank you.” He fiddled with the brass ship’s bell that hung just inside the door. “You’ve kept some of the relics, I see. We used to dash in here and ring this whenever Mr. Potter was out in his garden.” A winsome smile flickered, tilting the corners of his lips. “He chased us with his flyswatter.”
“Us?” Annie wished she’d bitten her tongue when his startled glance leaped to hers, eyes darkening once more to that sad, forlorn pewter that drowned all the fun.
“Just some other kids.” He avoided her stare. A noise behind Annie drew his attention, and the glint reappeared. “Ah, another beautiful lady to brighten my day. How goes it?”
Felicity Smith nodded at Annie, but her attention was all on him.
“I see you’ve met Russ.” Felicity grinned, cheeks glowing pink at the wink he sent her way. “Russ will be staying with us for the next month or so.”
“He will?” Her first customer, and he had to be a flirt!
“He’s opening The Quest. He’ll be selling silver lamps.” Felicity fairly oozed with admiration, her brown eyes melting with adulation. “I think it will be wonderful to have the place open again, Russ.”
“Thanks, Felicity.”
Annie felt an overwhelming need to break up this mutual admiration society.
“Yes, it will be nice.” She walked behind the counter and glanced at the ledger. Apparently Mr. Russ Mitchard, of no fixed address, was to be her only customer. One client was better than none, wasn’t he?
“I hear an unspoken ‘but’ in your voice.” Russ leaned against the counter, shadowed chin propped on one palm.
“I’m glad the bookstore is able to remain open.” She shrugged. “It’s full of character. I used to go there often when my mother was alive, but lately…”