92 Pacific Boulevard by Debbie Macomber Page A

meant standing in full view of the street on a bitter January day. With the woman he loved in his arms, physical comfort didn’t matter. He’d hardly noticed the damp or cold—until she’d stepped out of his arms.
    “Would you like another bran muffin?” Faith asked.Before he could answer, she added, “I believe I got this recipe from my mother. If you like, I could pass it along to your daughter. I saw Megan the other day. Did she mention that?”
    “Faith.” Troy took off his damp coat and hung it over the back of a chair.
    “She’s a lovely girl, Troy.”
    “Faith,” he said a bit more loudly this time.
    She clutched the kitchen counter with both hands.
    “I know how distressed you must be.”
    She spit out a laugh as though his statement had been an exaggeration. “I’m fine, really. Tired, but…Okay, I’ll confess this break-in has me unnerved. But wouldn’t anyone feel that way?”
    “Of course they would. Now, promise me you won’t hesitate to call 9-1-1 if you suspect someone’s on the property.”
    “I…”
    “Faith,” he coaxed.
    “I will,” she finally said, “if I really think there’s someone here.”
    Troy figured this half promise was about all he could wheedle out of her.
    They stood just looking at each other for a moment, neither of them inclined to speak.
    “Would you like me to stop by one evening?” he asked, hoping she’d agree to that, too. Maybe she’d let him come over occasionally and then, given time, he’d have the opportunity to regain her trust.
    She considered his question, then slowly shook her head. “I appreciate your willingness to look in on me, but…but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
    Personally Troy thought it was brilliant.
    “Would it be all right if I phoned and checked on you in the morning?” Maybe he was pressing his luck, but he had to try.
    “I suppose…but only this once.”
    “Only this once,” he echoed. “I won’t call again after tomorrow.” The crack in her resolve to keep him out of her life was barely discernible but it was there.
    Reaching for his coat and hat, Troy saw that he’d left a small portion of his bran muffin on the plate. He popped it in his mouth and gave Faith a lopsided grin. He swallowed, wishing he’d accepted a second one when she’d offered it. “I’ll ask Megan to get the recipe from you,” he said on his way to the door.
    “I’ll be happy to share it.”
    Troy lingered at the front door, but there was nothing else to say. Leaving Faith never seemed to get any easier.

Chapter Six
    W ill Jefferson knew he needed to play his cards carefully if he hoped to have a relationship with Shirley Bliss. Now that his divorce from Georgia was final, he was a free man. Of course, a wedding ring hadn’t been much of a detriment in the past. He’d had a number of affairs, which wasn’t something he took pride in. It was just…a fact. Georgia had repeatedly forgiven him, and he always meant to be faithful. His intentions were good—the best—but then he’d meet someone and the attraction would be there and, well, when it came to beautiful women, he was weak. That was all he could say about it. He didn’t even attempt to defend himself, although, to be fair, it did take two to tango—and to do certain other things…
    He experienced more than a twinge of guilt about cheating on his wife. Ex-wife. They should never have gotten married. The marriage hadn’t worked for either of them. They were mismatched, and as time went on, there’d been less and less to hold them together. He hoped Georgia didn’t resent him. But he’d begun a new life here in Cedar Cove, returning to his hometown, wherehe’d spent some of his happiest years. He wanted to become that person again, wanted to redeem himself, in his own eyes and those of his family and friends. Maybe Shirley Bliss would help him…
    He’d met Shirley, a widow, when he’d purchased the art gallery. He’d felt an immediate attraction, but it