LITMIR.BIZ

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car crash when she was sixteen, she’d clung to her boyfriend, Sean. She’d leaned on him through college and their four-year marriage, adapting her interests to his. Hiking and motorcycle riding—until her pregnancy—had replaced photography, and being a wife and mother had replaced nursing. She’d had no idea to what an extent her reliance on him had preempted her sense of self until after his death.

      Although Harper would always treasure their years together, she didn’t care to repeat the experience with anyone else. Today, she felt liberated.

      When the bus crested a rise, before them spread the U-shaped harbor from which the town took its name. Small boats and a scattering of yachts lined its edges, while sailboats and catamarans headed toward the jetties that protected it from the Pacific Ocean.

      Along a harborside quay lay shops and a café. Farther down the shore, past the yacht club and some private waterside homes, Harper noted beach umbrellas and blankets staking out areas of sand. So far, however, only a handful of wet-suited surfers braved the chilly waves. It was always colder at the ocean, even compared to a few miles inland.

      Zipping her jacket against the wind, Harper descended at the bus stop and made her way onto the beach. No one seemed to mind when she captured their images: an older couple holding hands as they strolled, a man tossing a beach ball with his little boy, a woman in a floppy hat pouring a steaming cup of liquid from a thermos. Thank goodness for memory cards that stored thousands of images.

      A clump of palm trees framed the subtle colors of sea and sky. Walking and clicking, Harper lost track of time—a rare luxury. As the day warmed, she removed her jacket and tied it around her waist.

      A man caught her eye—a muscular fellow, head down, wind ruffling his hair and sweat darkening his T-shirt as he jogged toward her along the sand. Athletic shorts emphasized his sculpted thighs and, admiring the classic impression of masculinity, Harper snapped a couple of quick pictures.

      Then his chin lifted and familiar blue eyes met hers. Startled, Harper lost her grip on the camera, which was saved from a fall by the cord around her neck. At the same time, the man slowed.

      “Peter. Uh, hi.” She debated whether to apologize for photographing him, but that might require an explanation. And her only reason had been that she found him attractive.

      Breathing hard, Peter halted in front of her. Since their conversation the previous Monday, Harper had glimpsed him several times at sports camp. He’d always been surrounded by mothers asking questions about their children and sometimes, judging by their body language, flirting with him. Who could blame them?

      He indicated the camera. “Is this for a project?”

      “Nothing in particular.” In his presence, Harper instinctively tossed her hair, only to find that she missed the accustomed weight of it. Anyway, she didn’t mean to react with flirtatious moves like those other women. “Photography used to be my hobby. I’m rediscovering it.”

      “Mind if I take a look?”

      “Not at all.” Harper switched the camera to display mode and handed it over.

      Peter leaned toward her as he flicked through the pictures. “You have a terrific eye.”

      Shifting closer to see the shots, Harper caught the appealing scent of clean male sweat. “Isn’t that a cute little boy? Something about him reminded me of...” She broke off.

      “Of Sean?” he asked.

      Harper examined the image. “Not really. Just—oh, it’s not important.” She wasn’t ready to share her dream about little boys.

      He shifted away. “Mind if we walk? I’d like to keep moving while I cool down.”

      “Sure.” Glad of the company after a morning alone, Harper fell into place as they strolled toward the pier. She adjusted her stride to his without difficulty, since he was only a bit taller than her five foot nine inches.

      “Where’s Mia?” he asked.

      Guiltily, Harper realized that she hadn’t thought about her daughter in over an hour. Still, she’d resolved not to be a helicopter parent, and Mia could reach her by phone if necessary. “She went to Disneyland with my friend Stacy. It’s her fiancé’s first visit and they thought it would be more fun with a kid.”

      A Frisbee flew toward them from a group of teen boys. Peter caught it easily and skimmed it back. “You don’t worry about her?” Quickly, he added, “Not that you should.”

      “Stacy’s a nurse and her fiancé’s a doctor, so she’s in good hands,” Harper said.

      The crowd on the beach grew thicker as they approached the pier, forcing them to weave around sunbathers and picnickers. “Want to grab a bite at the café?” Peter asked. “I don’t mean to interrupt your photo session.”

      “Oh, the light’s too harsh now, anyway.” Harper laughed. “That was rude, wasn’t it? Like I’d only join you because the light’s bad for picture-taking.”

      Peter unfurled a smile. “I appreciate the frankness.”

      “I’m sure Angela was way more tactful.” She halted, regarding him apologetically. “I’m running off at the mouth.”

      “Nothing wrong with talking about Angela.” Peter held out a hand to help her up some large rocks that abutted the pier. “I mentioned Sean, didn’t I?”

      “I guess you did.” His grip sent prickles along Harper’s arm. Reaching the wooden quay, she released his hand quickly.

      They strolled past boat slips and, on the inland side, boutiques selling beachwear, surfboards, hats and anything else a tourist might buy. At the Sea Star Café, they were lucky enough to snag a booth by the window.

      “I’ll get the food,” Peter offered, since the café served from the counter. “What would you like?”

      Harper handed him a twenty-dollar bill. “I’ll have a cranberry muffin, a blueberry muffin and a cup of chai, and don’t even try to pay for it.”

      Peter’s eyebrows drew together. “Okay, but—is that what you’re eating for lunch?”

      “Why?”

      “Not exactly a balanced diet.”

      “Don’t tell me you’re a health nut.” She bristled at the idea of someone dictating what she ate. This was her free day.

      “No, it’s just that as a...” He floundered for a moment. “I figured that, as a nurse, you’d be a stickler for nutrition.”

      “Sean used to get on my case about carbs,” she responded testily. “It was all protein and vegetables with him. I’m making up for lost time.”

      “Okay, okay.” Peter raised a hand placatingly. “Just asking.”

      Harper hadn’t meant to start an argument. By the time he returned, carrying a tray between the crowded tables, she regretted snarling at him. “Thanks, Peter. I’m sorry about biting your head off.”

      “I can take it.” He set her cup of tea and the muffins in front of her.

      “Usually I eat healthy stuff, but today when Mia isn’t here, I don’t have to act like a grown-up.”

      “No explanation necessary.” On his plate rested a whole-wheat pita sandwich bursting with sprouts, hummus and lettuce. “I wasn’t trying to control you. That’s what comes from being a teacher, I suppose.”

      “Especially a biology teacher?” she teased.

      “I’m glad you equate that with healthy habits.” Peter took his seat. “Some women draw other conclusions about my expertise in biology.” His cheeks reddened. “Man, that came out wrong.”

      “Good thing this isn’t a date,” Harper told him. “Just think of me as Sean with, well, a few distinctions.”

      “I’m

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