She blinked those damn tears away. “He was the kind of dad who thought I was the most amazing little girl in the whole, wide world. My dad was a ranch foreman and all-around handyman. I was his ‘assistant.’” She air-quoted that for him. “I had my own little pink toolbox and he taught me how to fix just about anything that might break around the house.”
“Madison, I—”
“Don’t.” She gazed at him steadily, annoyed with him, but at the same time, finding real pleasure in the lovely pull of heat and energy between them. “Let it alone for tonight.” She pulled open the slider. The breeze from the ocean blew in, fresh and moist with a hint of salt spray. “I’ll be over Saturday. At three.”
* * *
A half hour later, Karin joined Sten out on the upper-level deck. “You’re back early.”
“What? You timed me?”
“Sheesh. Only thirty-one, and already a crabby old man. What’s up? Did you blow it with Madison?”
He leaned his head back and stared at the clouds as they skidded across the moon. “Yeah. A little.”
“Stennie. There is no ‘a little.’ You either blew it or you didn’t.”
“Okay, fine. I blew it.”
“Why?”
“Oh, come on. Where’s it gonna go?”
“You’ll certainly never find out with an attitude like that.”
“Karin. I don’t want to talk about it. I mean that. Leave it alone.”
“Fine. We won’t talk about it.” With a long sigh, she settled back. “But take a tip from Scarlett O’Hara.”
He was not going to ask what the hell she meant by that. “What the hell do you mean by that?”
She reached across and patted his arm. “Tomorrow really is another day.”
* * *
The next morning early, Sten drove to the two-bedroom starter home he’d closed on a few weeks ago. The drywall guys were hard at work. Things were moving along well. From there, he stopped in at the Boatworks, where his dad and Karin had everything under control.
Back at home, he went down to his workshop and finished up a few small projects he’d put aside earlier for larger ones. He worked outside, with the door open, shirtless.
Because it was a nice day.
And okay, yeah, maybe he was hoping to glance up at the cottage next door and see a pretty woman in a big hat with his own binoculars trained on him.
Didn’t happen.
At noon, he put his tools away and went inside. He had a shower, pulled on clean jeans and a T-shirt and wandered out to the kitchen, where he opened the fridge and then stood there staring into it.
Nothing inside held any appeal.
And the house was too damn quiet, with Karin and his dad at the Boatworks, and both of the kids at school.
Was she even at the cottage right now?
Had to be. She’d said she was reluctant to go out for fear someone might recognize her.
Wasn’t she getting tired of that, of being stranded in the house?
At least tomorrow, she’d get out for a while—shehadsaid she was coming clamming with them.
