LITMIR.BIZ

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“Snack time.”

      Delight flashed in his black eyes, and he trotted over to a set of open bookshelves. Grasping a plastic container in his teeth, he dragged it out but left it untouched, looking to Mavis for directions. She held up two fingers. “You can have two.”

      Grumbling his approval, he reached in with his snout and removed one piece of jerky, letting it fall on the floor before going after another. When he had them, he placed the container neatly back on its shelf and swooped up his reward before retreating into the parlor.

      “Wow,” Bree said, shaking her head. “That’s really something.”

      Mavis’s craggy face wrinkled into a proud smile. “That little guy’s smarter’n most people I know. He’s not much to look at, but then neither am I, and he don’t seem to mind. You two go sit down. I’ll put the teakettle on and slice up some gingerbread.”

      As she passed by him, Cooper stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. Giving her the glasses he’d found dangling from a hook on the coat stand, he said, “You might want these.”

      “No, but I’ll take them all the same.” Slipping them on, she looked him over from head to toe with a critical expression. “You need a woman, Cooper Landry. Eating too much of his own cooking makes a man skinny.”

      “You sound like Mom, right before she stuffs me full of pot roast.”

      “That’s just plain nonsense,” Mavis scoffed. “We’re not a thing alike, and you know it.”

      He did, but no visit to the lighthouse was complete without a little good-natured sparring. Nose in the air, Mavis strolled through to the kitchen, and Bree glanced over at him, amusement sparkling in her eyes. She didn’t say anything, but it didn’t take much to figure out what was going through that quick mind of hers.

      “I know she’s a little eccentric,” he murmured as they walked into the sitting room, “but she’s harmless, I promise.”

      Stretched out on the flagstone hearth, Reggie had obviously inhaled his first treat and was enthusiastically attacking the other.

      Bree settled on the edge of an antique chair that had seen better days. She lifted one curious brow, the way she had when David Birdsall had pedaled down Main Street in his costume. “I have one question.”

      “Shoot.”

      “Is the whole town like this?”

      “Well,” Cooper stalled, searching for a way to skirt around the truth without lying. It was a survival skill he’d perfected during his courtroom career. But these days it just wasn’t for him, so he shrugged. “I guess so.”

      Laughing, she added a note to her tablet. “Amazing.”

      Cooper wasn’t quite sure what she meant by that, or if the comment was intended to be an insult or a compliment.

      Maybe bringing in a stranger to write about Holiday Harbor wasn’t such a good idea after all.

      * * *

      Bree was about as far from a tea and cookies kind of person as you could get, but Mavis’s snack was a whole lot tastier than the dry half sandwich she’d choked down at the airport earlier. While they munched and chatted, she made a mental picture of her surroundings, from the rugged landscape framed in the bay window to the parlor itself.

      Everything from the oval carpet to the carved mahogany furniture was faded and worn. Even the curtains flapping alongside each of the four windows had a tired look to them, as if they could hardly stand up to one more ocean breeze.

      Having lived all her life in the bustle of modern cities, Bree preferred glass and steel skyscrapers to raggedy old buildings in the middle of nowhere. Still she had to admit this one held a unique appeal. Maybe it was the setting, perched on the spit of land that made up one edge of the harbor. Maybe it was the well-salted local legends Mavis had been relaying for the past hour. Then again, Bree thought as she stifled a yawn, she was so tired from her early flight and long bus ride that anything that wasn’t moving looked good to her right now.

      Tomorrow morning she’d come to her senses and see this place for what it actually was: a decrepit old tower with a spinning light on top.

      At a rare lull in the conversation, Cooper stood. “I hate to do this, ladies, but I’d better get going. I’ve got a real estate closing at three, and I need to go over my notes.”

      From her chair upholstered in threadbare needlepoint, Mavis pointed up at him. “You tell your mother I’m still expecting her for bridge on Saturday. I’m not pairing up with any amateur against the Marlowes. They cheat if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

      “Yes, ma’am.” Turning to Bree, he added, “Your stuff’s still in my car. I’ll bring it in for you.”

      Despite her insistence on doing things for herself, this chivalry thing was starting to grow on her, and she was just tired enough to take him up on his offer. Then her brain kicked into gear, reminding her that depending on others to help you gave them a chance to let you down.

      Determined not to make that disastrous mistake again, she forced herself to her feet. “I can get it.”

      “It’s not a problem.”

      “It is for me.” For Mavis’s benefit, Bree used a sugary voice. But to be sure he didn’t misunderstand, she gave him the very stern look she trained on anyone with the gall to make her life difficult. Which was most people, she realized suddenly. That probably explained why she’d perfected that look.

      Pushing the uncomfortable revelation aside, she followed him through the kitchen and down the stone steps.

      “Something wrong?” he asked as he handed her bags out to her.

      “No. Why?”

      Turning, he leaned back against the fender and crossed his arms. “That was about the biggest sigh I’ve ever heard. Look, I know this place isn’t what you’re used to, but under the circumstances, it’s the best I could do.”

      “Oh, it’s not that.” A curious dragonfly chose that moment to hover in front of her. Shooing it away, she decided to come clean with the man who’d been so nice to her. “I’ve got some things to sort out, I guess, and that makes me pensive.”

      “Professional things or personal things?”

      It was absolutely none of his business, and she almost told him so. But his somber expression made it clear he wasn’t being nosy, but was actually concerned about her. A complete stranger who’d barreled into town and hijacked his day. It was hard to believe, but here, on the edge of nowhere, she’d come across a truly nice guy. It had been so long since the last one, she’d almost forgotten what they were like.

      Shrugging, she admitted, “A little of both.”

      “And that makes you sigh.” When she nodded, he said, “A word of advice?”

      “Sure.”

      After he swung into the driver’s seat, he continued, “If you want folks around here to open up to you, don’t use words like ‘pensive.’ It makes you sound like a poet.”

      Nick had told her pretty much the same thing while critiquing her portfolio, and she couldn’t help smiling. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

      “Meantime, I’d like to take you to dinner tonight. I can tell you how the lighthouse got its name.”

      Bree was fairly certain she’d have that tidbit after another round of tea and gingerbread with Mavis, and she almost said as much. But something made her stop.

      It had been a long time since someone had been as kind to her as Cooper had. He was sweet and easy on the eyes, and she wouldn’t mind spending the evening with him. She could get some vivid details for her story while enjoying the evening with a handsome man. Where was the harm in that? “That would be great. But I have to warn you, I didn’t

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