Allison go ahead. She threaded her way through the tables, aware of him warm and close behind her.
“Matt!”
A man—tall, with unruly dark hair and a killer smile—made his way toward them from the direction of the bar. “Cynthie told me you came in. Good to see you.”
“Sam.” Matt’s voice warmed with pleasure. “Heard you were back.”
The two men moved together into a one-armed, two-pat guy hug before stepping apart.
“How’s your dad?” Matt asked.
“Still making life hell for his nurses.”
“His heart?”
“Black as ever. But at least it’s beating.” The man stooped to scratch the dog behind its ears; straightened and aimed the smile at Allison. “Sam Grady.”
“Allison Carter.” Politely, she offered her hand.
He held it an instant too long, his grip smooth and strong. The part of her that had been raised to notice such things observed that his teeth were white, his watch a TAG Heuer, his black polo shirt from Brooks Brothers. Money there somewhere.
“I haven’t seen you before,” he said.
“She’s with me,” Matt said.
Sam winked. “At least for now.”
Were they serious? Should she be offended? Or flattered?
She was a little of both, she decided, and cleared her throat. “I just moved here. At the beginning of the school year.”
Sam snapped his fingers. “Carter. You’re the new school-teacher. On Pelican Way, right?”
She was a little taken aback that he knew where she lived. But she had come to Dare Island to be friendly, she reminded herself. To be part of the community. Maybe she should feel encouraged that the parents were talking about her. “That’s right. Do you have a child at the school?”
“Nope.” He flashed another smile. “I’m single and unattached.”
“Then how did you know…”
“I’m your landlord,” Sam said. “Grady Realty and Construction.”
“Small world,” Matt said.
Small town, Allison thought.
“Then I should thank you,” she said. “I really appreciate the special discount.”
Matt narrowed his eyes. “Special discount?”
“For teachers,” she explained. “I was a little taken aback when I started looking for a place to live. I should have realized that the demand for vacation rentals would drive up rents on the island. But then the realty office told me there had been a mistake. They have a special rate for teachers.”
“All teachers?” Matt drawled. “Or just the pretty ones?”
“All of them,” Sam said. “But especially the pretty ones.”
“First I’ve heard of it.”
“New policy,” Sam said. “Local businesses have a responsibility to give back to the community.”
“Your old man know about this?”
“He will when he gets out of the hospital.”
A long look passed between the two men.
“I’d give something to hear that conversation,” Matt said.
“Maybe I’ll tell you about it. If I’m still around afterward.” Another sharp smile. “Buy you a drink? On the house.”
Allison’s gaze darted from Sam to Matt. There were undercurrents here she did not understand. Was he asking her? Or both of them?
“Thanks, but we were just leaving,” Matt said.
Sam nodded. “Another time, then. Anytime.”
“Great to see you, Sam.”
“Nice meeting you,” Allison said.
Matt steered her toward the stairs, his hand warm at the small of her back. A tingle radiated up her spine.
She glanced over her shoulder at Sam Grady standing at the rail of the deck, his dark hair ruffled by the ocean breeze, classic nose, square jaw, master of all he surveyed.
She cleared her throat. “He seems friendly.”
Not merely friendly.
Single and unattached
, he’d told her.
Eligible
, her mother would have said with that when-I-was-your-age-I-was-already-married-to-your-father gleam in her eye. No strings, no complications, no sixteen-year-old son in Allison’s class.
Allison sighed. Too bad she didn’t feel any zings and tingles when she looked at him.
“Sam’s a good guy,” Matt
“Matt!”
A man—tall, with unruly dark hair and a killer smile—made his way toward them from the direction of the bar. “Cynthie told me you came in. Good to see you.”
“Sam.” Matt’s voice warmed with pleasure. “Heard you were back.”
The two men moved together into a one-armed, two-pat guy hug before stepping apart.
“How’s your dad?” Matt asked.
“Still making life hell for his nurses.”
“His heart?”
“Black as ever. But at least it’s beating.” The man stooped to scratch the dog behind its ears; straightened and aimed the smile at Allison. “Sam Grady.”
“Allison Carter.” Politely, she offered her hand.
He held it an instant too long, his grip smooth and strong. The part of her that had been raised to notice such things observed that his teeth were white, his watch a TAG Heuer, his black polo shirt from Brooks Brothers. Money there somewhere.
“I haven’t seen you before,” he said.
“She’s with me,” Matt said.
Sam winked. “At least for now.”
Were they serious? Should she be offended? Or flattered?
She was a little of both, she decided, and cleared her throat. “I just moved here. At the beginning of the school year.”
Sam snapped his fingers. “Carter. You’re the new school-teacher. On Pelican Way, right?”
She was a little taken aback that he knew where she lived. But she had come to Dare Island to be friendly, she reminded herself. To be part of the community. Maybe she should feel encouraged that the parents were talking about her. “That’s right. Do you have a child at the school?”
“Nope.” He flashed another smile. “I’m single and unattached.”
“Then how did you know…”
“I’m your landlord,” Sam said. “Grady Realty and Construction.”
“Small world,” Matt said.
Small town, Allison thought.
“Then I should thank you,” she said. “I really appreciate the special discount.”
Matt narrowed his eyes. “Special discount?”
“For teachers,” she explained. “I was a little taken aback when I started looking for a place to live. I should have realized that the demand for vacation rentals would drive up rents on the island. But then the realty office told me there had been a mistake. They have a special rate for teachers.”
“All teachers?” Matt drawled. “Or just the pretty ones?”
“All of them,” Sam said. “But especially the pretty ones.”
“First I’ve heard of it.”
“New policy,” Sam said. “Local businesses have a responsibility to give back to the community.”
“Your old man know about this?”
“He will when he gets out of the hospital.”
A long look passed between the two men.
“I’d give something to hear that conversation,” Matt said.
“Maybe I’ll tell you about it. If I’m still around afterward.” Another sharp smile. “Buy you a drink? On the house.”
Allison’s gaze darted from Sam to Matt. There were undercurrents here she did not understand. Was he asking her? Or both of them?
“Thanks, but we were just leaving,” Matt said.
Sam nodded. “Another time, then. Anytime.”
“Great to see you, Sam.”
“Nice meeting you,” Allison said.
Matt steered her toward the stairs, his hand warm at the small of her back. A tingle radiated up her spine.
She glanced over her shoulder at Sam Grady standing at the rail of the deck, his dark hair ruffled by the ocean breeze, classic nose, square jaw, master of all he surveyed.
She cleared her throat. “He seems friendly.”
Not merely friendly.
Single and unattached
, he’d told her.
Eligible
, her mother would have said with that when-I-was-your-age-I-was-already-married-to-your-father gleam in her eye. No strings, no complications, no sixteen-year-old son in Allison’s class.
Allison sighed. Too bad she didn’t feel any zings and tingles when she looked at him.
“Sam’s a good guy,” Matt
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