The rain eased to a gentle pitter-patter. “Who knows?” Her shoulders paid a visit to her ears as she wiped her eyes. “Hitchhike to I-95. Apply to the Pump-N-Munch and see what all the fuss is about?”
He hated the quaver beneath her jaunty tone. “Believe it or not, most days in Everland don’t end in tears.”
She plucked a rosemary sprig poking through a picket fence and twirled it beneath her fingers before glancing over one shoulder. “Guess I’ll have to take your word on that.”
There was something stubborn about the way she held herself. And the little mole dotting her top lip classified as adorable. An unfamiliar sensation struck hard, like a sucker punch to the ribs. A feeling that had been gone so long that its existence was almost mythical.
Interest in a member of the opposite sex.
He turned lightly away. Took a steadying breath. “Sorry about the rain.”
“I don’t melt.” She dropped the rosemary on the sidewalk and defiantly swiped a lock of wet hair plastered on her cheek.
He got the picture. She wanted to be left alone. Hell, that was his default setting. Except for the present moment.
Surprising.
Too bad hehatedsurprises.
They walked in mutual troubled silence. Her trudging gait nagged at him. It didn’t seem fair she should be loaded by an invisible weight, and yet, who was he to offer to carry the load? She didn’t know him from the Man in the Moon, and her gaze might as well be blocked off by caution tape. Anyway, he’d soon be turning off, swinging by his house, and grabbing the marina key. After Doc made it clear that it would be a cold day in hell before the shelter was gifted a single acre of Mama’s land, Rhett needed the solace of the ocean more than ever.
At the corner, she pivoted, leveling a direct stare. He tried holding her gaze, but kept investigating the planes of her heart-shaped face.
“Hey.” Her keen brown eyes narrowed. “Do you mind not following me?”
“Now wait a minute.” He bristled at the unexpected accusation. “You’re walking inmydirection. I’m swinging by home to get my boat key.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders flagged, the self-righteous wind dropping from her sails. “Go on ahead then.” She stepped aside as thunder rumbled in the distance.
“Hatching a plot to check me out from behind?” His teasing tone relaxed some of the tightness around her eyes. The strange feeling returned, stealing around the perimeters of his mind, a wary cat, suspicious and skittish.
Curiosity about a woman.
A dog-hating woman.
Another clap of thunder shook the sky, a boom of divine laughter. Guess someone up there thought the joke was on him.
“Hilarious.” Her half smile belied her deadpan tone.
Yeah. Funny as YouTube videos of idiots jumping off diving boards into frozen pools.
“Don’t take my word. I’ve heard it’s a sight to behold,” he drawled, taking a left onto Love Street with a pang at the impending separation. “And here we are.”
Her heel clicks echoed through his brain in staccato pops. He turned back, scrubbing his jaw. “For the official record, who is following who?”
There was no smile in her eyes, just a deepening suspicion. “How’d you know where I live?”
Words deserted him. “Whereyoulive?”
She jerked a chin at the one-story white cottage. “That’s my house.”
“The old Carmichael place?” AFOR RENTsign had gone up in the window a few weeks ago, but he’d given it little to no thought.
“My landlady is Doris Carmichael. She didn’t sound that old.”
“It was her great aunt Katherine’s place. Dot lives Waynesboro way but can’t bear to sell. See the red door?” He pointed to the yellow house to the right.
She frowned in confusion. “Yes.”
