LITMIR.BIZ

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he spat out.

      She winked. “My mince pies got me those curtains.”

      A peat fire burned on the grate, the pungent scent warming the room. Mrs. Needles poured two mugs as he settled in a chair in front of the hearth. Then she piled a plate with raspberry tarts and shortbread cookies.

      This wasn’t the house he remembered. For once he felt...welcomed.

      He took a bite of a crisp cookie. Buttery sugar melted in his mouth. Then he popped a tart in his mouth, the crust flaky and the jam sweet. “These are tops. If you’d been housekeeper when I was a child, I don’t think I’d have gotten in so much trouble at school.”

      “If I’d been housekeeper, you would have behaved. I raised three boys from lads to men. I’m a grandmother three times.”

      He let her ramble on about her children and sipped his strong black tea, feeling strangely at ease in a house he hated.

      She walked into the breakfast room and came back with a box. “Are you sure you don’t want to look around the place? Identify things you’d like packed up? Maybe stay the night?”

      “Thanks, no. I’m at the inn.” But for once, he was tempted to linger.

      She pointed at the empty plate. “How about another cup of tea and a few more biscuits?”

      “I’d like that.”

      * * *

      “ONCE MORE WITH FEELING,” Dolley called, reducing the f-stop on her camera.

      Damian, the bar owner, rolled his eyes, but picked up a martini glass and pretended to hand the bright blue drink to Dolley’s coworker, Anne. On the dark wood bar sat two more cocktails, one electric pink and the other neon green.

      Dolley made sure Anne, Damian, the drinks and the wall of gleaming bottles behind the bar were in focus. She snapped away. “Smile.”

      Anne’s and Damian’s smiles were forced.

      “Come on, think of something fun,” she suggested. “Like vacations or...sex.”

      They both grinned. Exactly what she wanted. She captured a few more photos and then pulled the camera away. “Perfect.”

      “Finally.” Damian dropped his elbows to the counter and heaved a sigh. “I’ve got thirsty customers to serve.”

      Dolley caught a few more shots of Damian as he worked. He was so darn cute. And married. Oh, well. “You’ll have more customers once I update your website.”

      She hoped the last pictures of Damian turned out. His dimpled grin would pull in tons of female customers.

      “I can’t wait to see it.” Damian put the martinis he’d made for the photos on a tray, adding a clear martini. “Here. For your trouble.”

      Anne grinned. “Thanks.”

      Dolley grabbed her jacket. “I’ll send the website link in a couple of days.”

      She and Anne took the tray out to the patio. It was a perfect October night in Savannah.

      “I’m jealous you get to design websites and take pictures for them.” Anne sipped the bright blue drink. “Oh, this is delicious.”

      “You could, too.”

      “Have you seen my client list? Georgia Gravel Company. Chatham Reclamation.” Anne shook her head. “I’ll let them take their own pictures, thank you.”

      “You have no sense of adventure. You could climb the gravel piles, wade through garbage.”

      “Not happening.” Anne shook her head hard.

      Dolley tasted the neon-green drink. “This one’s apple.”

      “Let me try.” Anne took a sip. “That’s good.”

      “Anything new at the office today?” Dolley asked.

      “Be glad you worked from home.” Anne twirled her glass. “Jackson was on a rampage. We weren’t meeting deadlines. Clients were mad.” Anne shoved her gorgeous blond hair over her shoulder.

      What Dolley wouldn’t give to have straight hair like her friend. Instead, her curls looked like she was auditioning for the lead role in Annie. “Glad I wasn’t there.”

      “There has to be somewhere else to work.” Anne slumped in her chair.

      “If you want to leave Savannah.”

      Dolley sure did. She wanted to quit her job as website designer at Jackson Promotions and travel the world.

      But she couldn’t. Her family’s bed-and-breakfast was a golden shackle around her ankle, chaining her, the invisible sister, to Savannah.

      Dolley let Anne complain, nodding and humming in the right spots, but not really listening. Anne had at least spent a semester studying abroad. The farthest Dolley had gotten was a long weekend in New York City to visit her older sister.

      The server hustled over with chips and salsa. “Boss says whatever you want is on the house.”

      Dolley rubbed her hands together and looked at Anne. “Appetizers?”

      “Most excellent idea.” Anne nodded.

      They ordered wings, fried zucchini and mozzarella sticks. That ought to cover dinner.

      “No more work talk.” Dolley held up her drink.

      Anne sighed. “I’m in the mood to bitch.”

      “Nope. How was your date last weekend?” Dolley asked.

      Anne pouted. “I thought you didn’t want me bitching.”

      Dolley laughed. “I told you he wasn’t right for you.”

      “You were right.” Anne waved her hand around the patio. “Pick someone.”

      Dolley scanned the tables, lingering on a group of men gathered near the patio bar. “Nothing yet. I’ll keep my eyes open.”

      “How was your date with Robert?” Anne asked.

      Dolley grinned. “Apparently a lot better than yours.”

      Anne grabbed her hand. “You slept with him? Tell all.”

      “This was only date three.” Dolley shook her head. She’d learned to wait, hoping any man who made it to date four saw her as more than just a computer help desk or a friend with benefits.

      “What did you do?”

      Dolley tapped her fingers on the tabletop. “I helped him with some computer stuff.”

      “That’s not a date.” Anne wrinkled her nose. “That’s work.”

      “We were supposed to go to a movie, but he was having trouble loading his students’ artwork to the school’s website.”

      “Right.” Anne’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. “How do these guys find you?”

      “Robert’s not like the others.”

      Anne pointed her finger. “You did his work for him.”

      “So we could have more time together. Besides, he bought dinner.”

      “Let me guess—pizza?”

      “I picked the toppings,” Dolley protested.

      Anne shook her head. “Didn’t you learn anything from that guy who had you clear the viruses from his computer?”

      “John.” Dolley rolled her shoulder. “Never date a guy who spends that much time on porn sites.”

      “And there was that other idiot. You built his website—for free.”

      “He wasn’t an idiot.” Dolley had been the idiot. “He was

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