stop the slight quiver in her fingers as she took in his lean physique.
Get a grip! she warned herself, shoving her hands into her pockets and balling them into fists.
“So what’s he doing home on a weekday?” She strove for a conversational tone but couldn’t hide the tremor in her voice.
“He only has office hours until noon on Wednesdays. Then he works three to eleven in the E.R. Spends way too much time on the job, if you ask me. The man needs some diversions.” Henry shot her a quick look over his shoulder.
At the speculative glint in his eyes, Marci smothered a sigh. First Edith had thrown out hints about the two of them getting together. Now Henry seemed tuned to the same channel.
Which was all the more reason to keep her distance, Marci reminded herself as Christopher glided to a stop beside them. There were way too many sparks flying already; the last thing they needed was any encouragement.
Still straddling the bike, Christopher took off his helmet and smiled at her.
The way her heart melted, you’d think she was someinnocent, starry-eyed teen in the throes of her first crush, Marci thought in disgust. And she was none of the above.
“Hi, Marci.”
“Hi.” Her reply came out stiff. Almost unfriendly.
If he noticed, he didn’t let on. But Henry pursed his lips and gave her an odd look before turning his attention to Christopher.
“Was the prescription ready?”
“Yes.” Twisting around, Christopher snagged two grocery bags out of one of the wire baskets and handed them to the older man. “I think I got everything else on your list, too. And I threw in a couple of sugar doughnuts from The Flake.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” Grinning, Henry reached for the bags. “But I’m glad you did.”
“I thought you might be.” Christopher winked and swung his leg over the bar on the bike. “There’s a pair of garden gloves in there, too. For your new assistant. Gardening is hard on the hands.” He turned to her. “How’s the scratch?”
Was there anything this man didn’t notice? Marci shoved her right hand deeper into her pocket to hide the long scratch down the back, a souvenir of yesterday’s tussle with a rose bush.
She gave a slight shrug. “It’s fine. I’ll be happy to reimburse you for the gloves.”
“No way,” Henry protested. “If anyone’s going to repay him, it’s me. The cost of a pair of garden gloves is a small price to pay for all the free labor I’m getting.”
“Forget it. It’s no big deal.” Christopher checked his watch. “I need to grab a quick bite, then head to the hospital. See you later.”
Without waiting for a response, he pushed his bike around the corner of his cottage.
“He’s a good boy. Been almost like a son to me these past two years.” Henry started toward the gate to the backyard.
“Let me take a bag, Henry.” Marci gently tugged one of theplastic sacks out of his hand as they went through the gate, her curiosity piqued. “Have you only known him for two years?”
“Yep. That’s when he moved to the island from Boston. Marjorie and I used to rent out the cottage to summer people, but when Christopher offered to sign a one-year lease, I grabbed it. It’s a whole lot easier than having new people come and go all the time, and now I have income for the whole year, not just for the summer. It’s worked out real fine. He renewed it for the second time last month. Can’t imagine not having him around anymore. But I expect one of these days he’ll go home.”
Why? And why is he here in the first place?
Marci had to bite back the questions as they reached the back porch.
“Would you like me to bring this inside for you or hand it through the door, Henry?”
“Come on in.” He pulled open the screen door and stepped aside to let her pass. “Don’t mind the dust. I’m not much of a housekeeper.”
Crossing the threshold, Marci walked through the small mud room and set the bag on the Formica counter in the
Get a grip! she warned herself, shoving her hands into her pockets and balling them into fists.
“So what’s he doing home on a weekday?” She strove for a conversational tone but couldn’t hide the tremor in her voice.
“He only has office hours until noon on Wednesdays. Then he works three to eleven in the E.R. Spends way too much time on the job, if you ask me. The man needs some diversions.” Henry shot her a quick look over his shoulder.
At the speculative glint in his eyes, Marci smothered a sigh. First Edith had thrown out hints about the two of them getting together. Now Henry seemed tuned to the same channel.
Which was all the more reason to keep her distance, Marci reminded herself as Christopher glided to a stop beside them. There were way too many sparks flying already; the last thing they needed was any encouragement.
Still straddling the bike, Christopher took off his helmet and smiled at her.
The way her heart melted, you’d think she was someinnocent, starry-eyed teen in the throes of her first crush, Marci thought in disgust. And she was none of the above.
“Hi, Marci.”
“Hi.” Her reply came out stiff. Almost unfriendly.
If he noticed, he didn’t let on. But Henry pursed his lips and gave her an odd look before turning his attention to Christopher.
“Was the prescription ready?”
“Yes.” Twisting around, Christopher snagged two grocery bags out of one of the wire baskets and handed them to the older man. “I think I got everything else on your list, too. And I threw in a couple of sugar doughnuts from The Flake.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” Grinning, Henry reached for the bags. “But I’m glad you did.”
“I thought you might be.” Christopher winked and swung his leg over the bar on the bike. “There’s a pair of garden gloves in there, too. For your new assistant. Gardening is hard on the hands.” He turned to her. “How’s the scratch?”
Was there anything this man didn’t notice? Marci shoved her right hand deeper into her pocket to hide the long scratch down the back, a souvenir of yesterday’s tussle with a rose bush.
She gave a slight shrug. “It’s fine. I’ll be happy to reimburse you for the gloves.”
“No way,” Henry protested. “If anyone’s going to repay him, it’s me. The cost of a pair of garden gloves is a small price to pay for all the free labor I’m getting.”
“Forget it. It’s no big deal.” Christopher checked his watch. “I need to grab a quick bite, then head to the hospital. See you later.”
Without waiting for a response, he pushed his bike around the corner of his cottage.
“He’s a good boy. Been almost like a son to me these past two years.” Henry started toward the gate to the backyard.
“Let me take a bag, Henry.” Marci gently tugged one of theplastic sacks out of his hand as they went through the gate, her curiosity piqued. “Have you only known him for two years?”
“Yep. That’s when he moved to the island from Boston. Marjorie and I used to rent out the cottage to summer people, but when Christopher offered to sign a one-year lease, I grabbed it. It’s a whole lot easier than having new people come and go all the time, and now I have income for the whole year, not just for the summer. It’s worked out real fine. He renewed it for the second time last month. Can’t imagine not having him around anymore. But I expect one of these days he’ll go home.”
Why? And why is he here in the first place?
Marci had to bite back the questions as they reached the back porch.
“Would you like me to bring this inside for you or hand it through the door, Henry?”
“Come on in.” He pulled open the screen door and stepped aside to let her pass. “Don’t mind the dust. I’m not much of a housekeeper.”
Crossing the threshold, Marci walked through the small mud room and set the bag on the Formica counter in the
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