he’d scored a touchdown. “To be fair, God had a hand in that. It wasn’t the masons’ fault.”
“I guess.” Her brief moment of humor evaporated into a frown. “I appreciate the invitation, but religion’s really not my thing. We used to go when I was a kid, but now I’m more the sleep-till-noon-go-have-brunch kind of girl.”
Ben suspected she could use some of the warmth he always found in the old chapel, but he’d learned long ago that it’s impossible to convince someone of something they don’t half believe already. You could try, but in the end, you were just wasting your breath.
“That’s fine,” he said as he pulled open the door to the bakery. “If you change your mind, you know how to get there.”
Once inside, Lauren paused and took a deep breath. “Mmm...something smells delicious. What is it?”
“Carolina’s snickerdoodles, runner-up at the state fair last summer.”
“Carolina? Are they named for the state, or is that someone’s name?”
“Carolina and her sister Georgia are from Alabama, but they’ve been here ever since I can remember.” Affectionately known around town as the Bakery Sisters, they were two of Holiday Harbor’s favorite residents. “They came up for a vacation with their husbands and never left. Kinda like Julia.”
Lauren gave him an odd look. “I was just thinking the same thing.”
“Great minds and all that.” Her eyes narrowed, and he tried not to take her reaction personally. Judging by her rapidly shifting moods, something was going on with her, and he opted to cut her some slack. For better or worse, he’d had a lot of practice with that kind of thing. “If you wanna try the snickerdoodles, we should get ’em now. They won’t last long.”
“That would be great. If they were second place, I can’t imagine what came in first.”
“Mavis Freeman’s gingerbread. She’s our lighthouse keeper, and she wins every year.”
“I thought all those beacons were automated these days,” his guest commented as they joined the line.
“Not the Last Chance Lighthouse,” he informed her. “Mavis would strap herself to the tower if we tried to change anything out there.”
“Let me guess. It got its name because it’s the last chance a boat has to change course before it crashes on the rocks.”
Grinning, he pointed at her. “You got it.”
“There seems to be a story for everything in this town. It’s interesting.”
That was a nice way of putting it, he thought. Growing up, he’d enjoyed living in his quirky hometown, with its salty character and down-to-earth people. Now that he was getting older and still right where he’d started, the age-old traditions were starting to wear on him. Nothing ever changed here, and he knew the villagers inside and out. Maybe that was why Lauren had snared his attention so quickly. Tired of the same old, same old, he was dying to experience something new.
That was it, he decided, relieved to discover the reason for his fascination with her. She was pleasant company, but nothing more than that.
When they arrived at the counter, Georgia Bynes greeted them with a bright, grandmotherly smile. “There’s our favorite fix-it man. And you must be Lauren.” She reached across the counter to shake hands. “We’ve heard so much about you. It’s wonderful to finally meet you in person. Carolina—” she called out “—Julia’s friend is here!”
A slightly younger version of Georgia bustled through the swinging doors, wiping her hands on her flour-dusted apron before echoing her sister’s greeting. “Good to see you both. Your trays are ready, so I’ll just go get them.”
“Don’t bother,” Ben said, strolling over to the antique cooler that occupied half of the back wall. “I got ’em.”
While Lauren signed the delivery receipt, he slid the three trays free and closed the door with his boot. When she appeared behind him with her hands out, he was confused. “What?”
“I can carry at least one.”
“They’re all balanced and everything. If you just get the door, I’ll be fine.” She didn’t respond, but she didn’t drop her hands, either. After a brief standoff, he relented and let her take the top tray from him. “Stubborn, aren’t you?”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“Not always.” Chuckling, he backed into the entry door to open it for her. “Guess it depends on the situation.”
She slanted him a curious look. “What kind of situation makes it bad?”
“Like if you insisted on going into a burning building to save your clothes, I’d have to stop you.”
That got him a derisive snort. “Do I look like a moron?”
“Not a bit,” he assured her, and was surprised to find he meant it. Normally, he took his time sizing up new people, but this enigmatic woman with the tentative smile had impressed him from the moment he met her. It wasn’t just her looks, either. Gorgeous as she was, he sensed there was a lot going on behind those forget-me-not eyes. Not all of it good, either. “I was just giving you an example of when being stubborn is bad. Which you asked me for, by the way.”
“Fair enough.” A few moments later, she said, “For the record, I’d only go into a burning building to save people or puppies.”
“How ’bout kittens?” he teased, getting a laugh for his trouble.
“Okay, anything breathing. Does that cover it for you?”
“Sure.”
Their trip back to Toyland went a lot quicker than the walk out, and he was sorry to see it end. Now that she’d opened up a little, he wished he could have a few more minutes to talk to her. Then again, he cautioned himself as they offloaded their goodies, that could only lead to trouble. He wasn’t a superficial guy, but experience had taught him to be extremely cautious about relationships. Getting too attached set you up for a lot of heartache when things didn’t work out. It was safer to keep some distance in case things went south.
Because, from what he’d seen so far, they always did. It was just a question of how long it took and how much it hurt when you hit bottom.
Chapter Two
The cookies were no problem, but Lauren quickly realized the sandwich platter would never fit in the small fridge Julia kept in her office for cold drinks.
“Come on.” Angling her helper toward the door marked Private, she headed up to Julia’s apartment. “We’ll put them in the kitchen upstairs.”
When she was about halfway up, a high-brow English accent called out, “Brevity is the soul of wit!”
Giggling, she looked back at Ben. “You probably know Shakespeare.”
“Oh, yeah,” he replied with a chuckle. “The Bard and me, we go way back. I thought Julia was just bird-sitting, though. Is she keeping him for good?”
“His owner, Liam, will be at the wedding,” Lauren explained as they continued up. “He’s an interpreter, and his last assignment will be over then. After that, they’re on their way back to Wales.”
When they reached the top, a huge blue-and-yellow macaw nodded at them with what struck Lauren as a regal bow. “Greetings, fair maiden.” Eyeing Ben, he skidded to the side of his perch and adopted a more modern pose. “Wassup, dude?”
Ben laughed, and she shook her head at him. “You taught him that, didn’t you?”
“Yeah. You can only take so much classic literature.”
“Between that and the kids teaching him nursery rhymes, it’ll take