Rachel took her paper and pencil with alacrity, and then frowned as she read out some of the questions. “Thanksgiving came to be a national holiday thanks to which woman?” She looked up at Lucy. “I have absolutely no idea.”
“Take a guess.”
“Umm . . . Martha Washington? Betsy Ross?”
“Sarah Hale, editor ofGodey’s Lady’s Book,” Lucy answered. “That was a hard one. The others are easier.”
Everyone grumbled good-naturedly as they tried to answer the questions, and Lucy began to clear the table. The sink was overflowing with greasy pots and pans, and dirty dishes littered nearly every available surface of the kitchen. Cleaning up was going to take all night.
“Would you like help with the washing up?”
Lucy turned around, her heart lurching in spite of her brain’s intentions to stay normal and friendly with Alex. He was already rolling up the sleeves of his button-down shirt and just the sight of his strong brown forearms with their light sprinkling of hair made her feel a little weak.
“Umm, sure. You don’t want to complete the quiz?”
“I left the girls to it.” He moved over to the sink, taking the pots and pans out so he could fill it with hot water. “It looks like a tornado hit in here.”
“That’s how I cook.”
“That’s how you live,” Alex answered, his smile taking the sting from the words. “You blow into people’s lives like a whirlwind.”
“Or a tornado.”
“Right.”
They stared at each other, the moment spinning out until Lucy wondered what it was turning into, if anything. Then the water started frothing up with bubbles and Alex turned off the taps, effectively breaking the moment, if there had ever been one.
Blindly Lucy reached for some dirty plates. She handed them to Alex one by one and he rinsed them off before stacking them in the dishwasher. They worked in companionable silence for a few minutes, but Lucy could feel the tension winding tighter and tighter inside her. She felt as if she might burst with it, with the need to say something.
“I’m staying in Hartley-by-the-Sea,” she blurted.
Alex stared at her, a plate nearly slipping from his hand. “Pardon?”
“I’m staying,” Lucy repeated. “Not at the school, obviously, since Nancy Crawford will want her job back. But I realized I don’t have much in Boston to return for, and I like the life I’ve made for myself here. Juliet’s offered to let me live with her, and so . . .” She shrugged, spreading her hands. “I’m staying. I thought you should know. Not,” she amended hurriedly, “that it changes anything, you know, between us.”
“No,” Alex agreed, and put the plate he was holding into the dishwasher. “No, of course not.”
Not exactly the response she’d been hoping for, but the one she’d expected. Sort of. “Well, then.” She gave him a cheery smile. “We’ll be neighbors. Or rather, fellow villagers, which sounds kind of medieval.”
“Fellow villagers,” Alex repeated. He slotted another plate into the dishwasher without looking at her. “Yes.”
He didn’t sound very pleased. Lucy wondered if she should have told him. But he would have found out eventually, and anyway, she thought with sudden savagery, screw Alex Kincaid. He’d have to get used to seeing her about the village, that was all. This was her home too now.
She grabbed the turkey platter and shoved it towards him. She’d meant to hand it to him to rinse, but the platter tipped forward and cold, congealed turkey juices splattered all over Alex’s front. The situation was made even worse when Alexreflexively caught the platter and brought it to his chest. He was, Lucy thought with a swallowed bubble of near-hysterical laughter, more covered in grease than when he’d climbed the pole at the Crab Fair.
“I’m sorry,” she managed, and realized she didn’t even sound all that sorry. She let out a little snort of laughter and then clapped her hands over her mouth as Alex, still holding the greasy platter, narrowed his eyes.
“Are you . . . laughing at me?”
“Maybe,” she said between her fingers. “A little.”
Carefully he placed the platter down on the counter. His shirt was stuck to his chest with grease. Lucy looked away, only to give a little gasp of surprise as she felt his hand on her shoulder, pulling her towards him.
And then, amazingly, he was kissing her, and she was kissing him back—of course she was—grease and all.
A few wonderful minutes later, Lucy heard the sound of a throat clearing and she broke apart from Alex to see Juliet standing in the doorway, giving them both a narrow look.
“We’ve finished the quiz.”
