Home to Seaview Key - Sherryl Woods MIRA

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handed him the ice-cold glass. “Does Hannah know you’re here?” she asked.

      He shook his head. “I wanted to hear for myself what you’re doing back,” he told her.

      “I’m the one who’s planning to develop Blue Heron Cove, and before you get all riled up about that, you need to know I’m doing it responsibly with as little impact on the environment as possible.”

      He smiled. “Ah, so you’ve heard all the rumors and have rehearsed that speech?”

      “I’ve heard the rumors,” she confirmed. “So, about Hannah, is she going to hate it that I’m in town and intend to stick around?”

      “I don’t see why she should,” Luke said, though of course he knew exactly why she might.

      Abby smiled. “Then you really are naive, my dear old friend.”

      “Okay, she’ll probably be thrown at first,” he conceded. “But you were friends, Abby. Good friends.”

      “And I’d like to have that back again,” she admitted. “But I have no illusions about Hannah. She may not feel the same way. She could feel threatened, though I swear to you, Luke, I have no ulterior motives where you’re concerned.” She smiled. “You’re not the first person I’ve had to explain that to today. Your friend Seth was worried, too.”

      “So he told me. You still haven’t said why you’re back. You were pretty determined to leave Seaview Key behind forever.”

      “I came back here for me, to start over again, just the way you and Hannah did.”

      “Where does Seth fit in?”

      She laughed at the question. “I met him a few hours ago, papa bear. I have no designs on him, either. What did he tell you?”

      Luke winced, unwilling to get into his conversation with Seth. “Never mind. He’s had a tough year. I worry about him, that’s all.”

      Her gaze narrowed. “A tough year in what way?”

      He shook his head. “His story to tell, not mine.”

      “Okay, then, I am duly warned to tread carefully.”

      “Sorry. I’ve put my foot into it again. I’m really lousy at the whole advice thing.”

      “Ah, so you had this talk with Seth, too?” she asked, clearly amused. “And he’s already told you to butt out?”

      Luke nodded. “Pretty much.”

      “Then maybe that’s what you should do.”

      He stood up and set his glass on the table beside her. “I think you’re right. I’m glad you’re back, Abby. I hope you find what you want here.”

      “As long as it’s not you,” she said dryly.

      “Goes without saying,” he said, smiling. “Nice to see you’re still smart and direct.”

      “Will you tell Hannah you stopped by?”

      “Of course.”

      “Would you tell her that I’m looking forward to seeing her?” she said. “But I’ll leave that ball in her court.”

      Luke nodded. “I’ll tell her.”

      As he walked back to his car, he couldn’t help wondering, though, how Hannah would respond. As well as he thought he knew her, they’d never really talked about his old relationship with Abby except in passing. Now, out of the blue, it appeared they might be forced to deal with it. He had to admit he wasn’t looking forward to it.

      4

      Hannah went through the motions of getting dinner ready, but she was so distracted she burned the chicken and overcooked the pasta. She tossed both in the garbage and started over, this time with baked potatoes and steaks that could be thrown on the grill whenever Luke got home. At least she hadn’t destroyed the salad, too. She put the bowl on the table.

      She glanced at the clock and realized Luke was running late. There must have been some sort of emergency that kept him at the clinic. Just as well, since that would give the kitchen time to air out before he got here to ask questions about the ruined meal.

      Hannah didn’t want anyone, least of all Luke, to get the idea that she was intimidated by having her childhood best friend—and Luke’s old love—back home again. Yet the instant her grandmother had told her of Abby’s return about a million insecurities had crowded in, followed by a cascade of memories from the summer that Luke and Abby had fallen in love and Hannah had had to sit by on the sidelines while the teen romance flourished right in front of her.

      The three of them had spent countless hours on the porch at Seaview Inn, playing games and talking into the night. She’d been forced to turn a blind eye as Abby snuggled against Luke’s side in the old swing. On too many nights, as they walked off hand in hand, tears had leaked from Hannah’s eyes and she’d gone to bed crying. The only thing saving her from complete humiliation was knowing that Luke hadn’t realized just how miserable she was. Abby might have guessed, but she’d pretended otherwise, either to soothe her own conscience or to protect Hannah’s secret.

      But they were all grown up now. Hannah was the one who was married to Luke, and she had not a single reason to believe he would ever be unfaithful. Once he made a commitment, he kept it. After he’d come home from Iraq, he would have gone back to his wife, if she hadn’t already started divorce proceedings so she could marry the partner in his medical practice.

      That faith in Luke, of course, belonged to the strong, confident Hannah, not the one whose body had been disfigured by breast cancer and ravaged by chemotherapy. That woman had enough self-doubts to keep a psychologist busy for years.

      She stiffened her resolve to keep those doubts to herself. She didn’t want her grandmother or Luke watching her constantly to see if she was on edge about Abby’s return. How did the saying go, “Fake it till you make it?” Well, she was going to fake being thrilled about Abby’s return or die trying.

      “Sorry I’m late,” Luke called out, startling her as he jogged up the porch steps, then joining her in the kitchen.

      “Last-minute emergency?” she asked, turning her face up for his kiss.

      “Not exactly. I’ll explain later,” he said, a guilty flush in his cheeks. “I see you have the grill ready to go. Are we having steak?”

      She nodded.

      He sniffed the air. “Then why do I smell something that reminds me of scorched chicken?”

      “Blast,” she murmured. “I thought I’d aired the place out. I need to get some of that stuff that wipes out odors.”

      Luke frowned. “Something up? You never ruin a meal.”

      She forced a grin. “That’s what you think. Maybe I’m just very good at hiding the evidence. After all, when I lived in New York, I excelled at takeout, not cooking. Ask Kelsey. She’ll testify to that.”

      “If you say so. Let me get those steaks on the grill. I’m starving.”

      Hannah thought he was awfully eager to escape the kitchen and she was pretty sure it wasn’t because he was hungry. Something was going on. The knot in the pit of her stomach—or maybe sheer paranoia—told her it had something to do with Abby. So did his strained efforts at making small-talk during their meal.

      Still she couldn’t seem to bring herself to mention Abby’s return. Once she opened her mouth, she’d have to pull off that pretense that her world hadn’t been turned upside down.

      After dinner, when she and Luke sat on the deck, watching the sun set in a blaze of color over the water, a kind of calm settled over them. She finally drew in a deep breath. This conversation couldn’t be put off another second.

      “Have you heard that Abby might

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