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so quickly. But maybe she’d been tired. This had been her third class today.

      “So are you ready?” Nick asked.

      “Sure.”

      On the way to the Rover, Nick caught sight of the Kincaids’ summer home across the street. Justine had been out on the porch earlier, but she and the baby must have gone inside.

      “Wow. That’s a nice looking place.”

      “Yeah, it is.” Jennifer hesitated. So many visitors came to Summer Island hoping to get a glimpse inside Simone DeRosier’s old summer home that she’d learned to be reticent about pointing it out. But Nick wasn’t just another visitor. “Harrison and Justine Kincaid live there.”

      “Harrison Kincaid. Wasn’t he Simone’s husband?”

      “Yes.” Jennifer walked around him to the Rover, and after a pause, Nick followed. Once they were both seated, he seemed in no hurry to get moving.

      “Didn’t they have a daughter? She would be, what—six or seven?”

      “Autumn’s eight now. She’s thrilled about her new sister. Justine had a baby girl this spring.”

      “Yes. I’d heard that. You know there’s a rumor going around that Autumn has inherited her mother’s voice.”

      Where would he have heard that? Harrison and Justine usually did an excellent job of keeping Harrison’s daughter out of the public eye. Nevertheless, Nick was right. Autumn was tremendously talented. “She’s a natural singer and musician. But Harrison won’t allow her to perform in public. She’s still very young.”

      Nick turned back for a final glance at Molly’s house. He seemed about to ask another question, but apparently changed his mind. He started the engine. “So. Where to first?”

      Jennifer felt a thrill of anticipation. It was a sunny, warm day, chock-full of possibilities. “I think we should park at Pebble Beach and walk to town. I can fill you in on the island history on the way.”

      “Okay. You’re the tour leader.”

      Nick smiled at her, and Jennifer felt the effect right down to the tips of her toes. Maybe this wasn’t a date, but she was looking forward to being with Nick. Until it was time to go home and prepare afternoon tea, she was going to pretend she was a young woman without a care in the world.

      She directed Nick to Pebble Beach where they parked, then headed straight for the ocean. The beach was strangely deserted for such a fine day. Of course, vacation season was now over and kids were back at school.

      As they walked, their shoes crunched on the tiny rocks. “I see why you call this Pebble Beach.”

      “We don’t have sandy shorelines on the island. In a way that’s a good thing, because it’s helped keep the tourists away. That, plus the complicated ferry system.”

      “I visited Saltspring Island once many years ago. From what I’ve seen so far this island is quite different.”

      “We have similar topography and weather, but that’s where it ends. Ask any local—Saltspring is exactly what we don’t want to be.”

      “Why not? It’s very popular.”

      “Sure. And I like to visit Saltspring, too. In fact, I sell my lavender products through one of the crafts-women there. But Summer Island is just more…real. We aren’t overrun with tourists and artists and back-to-nature types.”

      “You don’t like tourists and artists and back-to-nature types?”

      His teasing smile gave her that light-headed feeling again. “I don’t have a problem with them. It’s just that they can squeeze out the locals. Most of the people on our island were born here and live here year-round. They’re fishermen and farmers and they don’t want yuppies coming from the city and clogging our little town with specialty coffee shops and upscale hardware stores.”

      “So is it an us against them mentality?”

      “A little bit,” she admitted.

      “What about your friends? Harrison Kincaid lives in Seattle, doesn’t he? And Simone wasn’t a full-time resident, either.”

      She laughed. “I don’t make full-time residency a condition for my friendship.” They were on the boardwalk now, the ocean to their right as they headed toward Cedarbrae. How had they ended up talking about her friends again?

      She had so many questions to ask him. Last night they’d talked about travels, but nothing personal. She wanted to know everything there was to know about Nick Lancaster. “How long have you been a writer?”

      “From the time I could hold a pen in my hand, practically. But I didn’t sell my first book until I was twenty-eight. Since then I’ve been lucky to make a pretty decent living. What about you? I’m assuming you were born and raised here. Did you ever move away for a while?”

      “Never.” She couldn’t help sighing as she said this.

      “You didn’t go to college or university or anything?”

      “I was supposed to. But my mother died the year I graduated high school. I stayed back to help my father adjust…and then he had his stroke. I couldn’t leave then.”

      He paused to throw a rock into the ocean. “You never married?”

      “No. But once…I came close.” Jennifer didn’t think of her aborted engagement very often. She could hardly picture Barry in her mind, or imagine his voice, or the way it had felt to kiss him.

      It was hard to believe she’d once considered linking her life with that of a man who had made such a non-lasting impression. “But that was a long time ago.”

      “What about now?” His gaze swept over her. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

      Please don’t let me blush again. It didn’t mean anything that he was curious. This was the sort of general interest question that people did ask. “No. That’s one drawback about living on a small island. Not many single men, especially by the time you get to your thirties. Molly and I sometimes joke about sending away for mail-order husbands.”

      Nick chuckled, and Jennifer waited for him to offer his own romantic history. When he didn’t, she prodded.

      “Have you ever been married?”

      “Never. Though I came close once, too.”

      “Oh?”

      “We lived together for a few years. Then she dumped me.”

      His smile was self-deprecating and yet so utterly charming that Jennifer felt another twist of her heart. Had he really been dumped? It didn’t seem possible. What woman in her right mind would dump Nick Lancaster? There had to be more to his story, but they’d reached the outskirts of Cedarbrae and Derby’s Diner was before them.

      “I’m kind of hungry,” Nick said. “You?”

      “Derby’s serves a good lunch. Want to give it a try?”

      Nick hesitated a moment, then said, “Actually, I was here for lunch yesterday.”

      “Really? So was I.”

      “Is that right?” He opened the door for her and they went inside.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      IN NICK’S EXPERIENCE MOST people loved to talk about themselves. Not Jennifer. He would have found her lack of self-absorption appealing if it hadn’t been so counter to his purposes. Every time he managed to orchestrate the conversation around to her life—and her friends’ lives—Jennifer quickly steered it back to him.

      As they made their way to a booth along the far wall, he took stock of all the Simone DeRosier paraphernalia on display. Yesterday he’d been so focused on Molly and Jennifer that he hadn’t noticed

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