“What was Bella’s mom like?”Annie asked, seemingly out of the blue.
“That was before my time,” Margie said quickly, hoping to change the subject.
But Patty took the bait.“Madeline was a lot like Bella.Feisty, funny, sharp as a tack.I’m not surprised that Miles never remarried.”
A slight smile crossed Annie’s face.“He’s had his hands full.”
“That,” Patty said, “and he was waiting for someone as wonderful as Madeline.”
The muscles in Margie’s shoulders tensed.Did Annie catch that?Waswaiting?As if his waiting was over?
Patty needed to put her theory to rest before it ruined Annie.Maybe Margie had agreed with her ever so slightly a few weeks ago, but now, after seeing how much happier and more whole Annie was, nothing was worth risking it.
“Patty,” Margie said loudly, “you will have to give me the recipe for these apple scones.Hank would love them.”
“Of course,” Patty replied, betraying nothing in her gaze.She slowly stood from her chair.“I’ll fetch it now.”
Margie snuck a glance at Annie, but if she had any more questions, she kept them to herself.
It was best that way.If Annie was open to dating, Margie knew a handful of eligible bachelors.She could introduce them at the fundraiser, but she was not going to allow Annie to get a taste of the dressing down Miles could deliver.
Sixteen
By the end of Miles’ post-holiday shift, his nerves were at their limit.They’d had a slew of nuisance calls – a woman who phoned at 3 AM to be transported to the hospital for a toe that had started hurting a month ago; a motor vehicle collision involving speeding and alcohol; and a man who called pretending he smelled gas.
“Look!”the man said, banging on his neighbor’s door after they’d arrived.“Whatever you’re cooking smells so bad that the fire department thought it was a gas leak!”
Normally, Miles was able to roll his eyes at these things and be grateful no one was hurt, but by the end of his forty-eight-hour shift, he’d lost all perspective.Even his coworkers were annoying him, and he was anxious to leave.
At shift change, he gathered his stuff, ignoring a new poster of his dating ad taped to the wall, and headed for the door.
“I hope your mood improves when you find love,” Sam called after him.
Miles sighed.“Thanks.”
Looking for love.What a joke.He’d had exactly zero interest in finding love in the last fourteen years.None.Never.
Except...whatever was happening when he saw Annie.Miles didn’t know what was wrong with him.When it came to Annie, he was like a man possessed.The entirety of his extensive Thanksgiving plan was to delight her, and when he saw how happy she was, he couldn’t stop.
He was addicted to making her laugh.Beyond that, he felt an urge to get closer to her, to feel her in his arms.
Then he’d contrived a reason to do it.The dance.
It had crossed a line.It was completely inappropriate.But when he’d pulled her close, her body almost resting on his, the delicate notes of her perfume flooding his senses – he could feel in his bones that her problems would be forgotten if she’d only rest her head on his shoulder.
It was intoxicating.Maddening.It had taken everything in him not to pull her closer, envelop her in his arms and kiss her.
Thank goodness Bella had come home when she did.It had knocked some sense back into him.
If Bella had seen them dancing so closely, she would’ve known then and there that he was the biggest hypocrite on the island.
He’d told her foryearsthat he wouldn’t date.That he had no interest.No time.Yet she would’ve seen him close to another woman, in their own house, no less.
How hurt would Bella be?How much more of a joke would Miles be to her?
It wouldn’t do.It didn’t matter what had possessed him to act like a maniac with Annie.He had to gain control of himself.He needed to stop.
He pulled the door to the fire station open and paused.A white envelope sat on the ground, wet and dirtied at the edges.Had the mailman dropped it?
