She stared at him a moment, trying to remember the last time she had been so happy to see someone.
“Thanks, but . . . I’ll only get the inside of your truck soaking wet. And it’s not that far now. I can walk the rest.”
Daniel abruptly stopped the truck, got out, and grabbed the bike without even asking. He tossed it in the back of the pickup with one swift, easy motion. He was pretty strong, she realized.
“Would you like to ride in the cab? Or in back with the bike?”
Liza imagined herself hoisted up and thrown in the truck bed. He looked like he could do it, too.
“In the cab, thanks.” Liza walked around to the passenger’s side and got in. Daniel slipped behind the wheel and closed his door. “Put your belt on,” he reminded her as he started the engine.
The wipers slapped at the rainy windshield, and the windows grew foggy despite the blower. She felt her shoulder brush Daniel’s as the truck rolled along, hitting puddles and potholes in the old road. It felt very close and intimate in the truck cab. Daniel stared straight at the road. His thick, dark hair was slicked back, emphasizing his strong profile.
She pushed her wet hair back with her hand, knowing she looked a perfect mess. Like a drowned cat. No help for it, she decided. She wiped a little space on her window with her hand and noticed they were near the town center.
“So you were sent to hunt me down and bring me back? Dead or alive, is that it?”
Daniel laughed. “Something like that. I didn’t have my loyal bloodhounds handy, but I volunteered anyway.”
He had volunteered to come find her? That was . . . interesting.
“What about my ex-husband?” she asked quietly. “Didn’t he volunteer?”
“Yes, he did, now that you mention it. We decided to split up and look on different sides of the island. I drew a little map for him with some . . . directions.”
Liza glanced at him, detecting a small smile. She had a strong feeling Daniel’s map would have Jeff driving in circles for days. But she didn’t comment.
“He might have found his way back by now, though,” he added, making her laugh. He glanced at her. “Are you worried that he’s waiting for you?”
Liza shrugged. “I wouldn’t say ‘worried.’ And I certainly wouldn’t mind a cup of tea,” she added, as Daisy Winkler’s cottage came into view.
Daniel glanced over at her and smiled, quickly turning the truck toward the tearoom. “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing. And here we are, right in front of Daisy Winkler’s.”
“Yes, here we are. How convenient,” she agreed, meeting his dark gaze for a moment. Then she opened her door and slipped out her side of the truck.
The rain came down steadily as they ran down the path to the front door of the cottage. Liza was closest to the door and rang the bell. Daniel stood behind her. He had opened his jacket and held the edges out over her, like a canopy.
“Get under,” he urged her as they stood waiting for Daisy to come to the door.
She stepped back, her shoulders nearly touching his chest.
She felt her breath catch at his nearness and felt the warmth of his body, even through her wet clothes. She was glad that he couldn’t see her face. She was sure her cheeks were bright pink.
Daisy finally came to the door. Her small face stared out at them quizzically.
“Hello, Daisy. Are you open today?” Daniel asked politely.
“Yes, of course. Come in, come in . . .” Daisy urged them forward. Liza stepped inside, then felt self-conscious as she dripped water all over the entranceway.
“Oh, my dear, it looks like you’ve been swimming. Did you fall off a boat?” Daisy inquired in a serious tone.
Liza smiled and shook her head. “I was out on my bike, and the rain started.” She stared down at her mud-covered shoes. She looked as if she had just emerged from a swamp. “Oh, dear . . . I don’t want to make a mess in here. Maybe this was a bad idea.”
“Don’t worry, dear. I’ll get something for you.” Daisy waved her hands in the air as she trotted off to some other room of the cottage.
Liza glanced at Daniel as Daisy disappeared. He was so tall, his head nearly grazed the low ceiling. “She must be getting a towel,” he whispered. Liza nodded. Then he reached out and pushed a wet strand of hair off her cheek. His touch was gentle and startling at the same time. “You do look like you fell off a boat. You look like a drowned—”
“Don’t say it,” she warned him fiercely. But couldn’t help smiling.
Before he could answer, Daisy reappeared. She carried a towel along with a load of clothes draped over one arm. “I picked out a few things that might fit you from the thrift rack in back.”
Daisy had a thrift rack in here, too? Liza hadn’t noticed that during her first visit, but she had only glanced inside and hadn’t really looked around.
Daisy handed over the bundle of clothes. “There’s a powder room right there.” She pointed to a pink door in the short hallway that separated the tearoom from another large room. “You dry yourself off and put on some warm things. I’ll get everything together for your tea.”
Liza glanced down at the clothes as Daisy trotted off in the opposite direction. The clothes were very—Daisy-ish. “I can’t wear this stuff. I’ll look like a mannequin in a costume museum,” she whispered to Daniel.
He picked up the edge of a sheer, frilly blouse. “This looks promising. Why don’t you try this one?”
“Dream on, pal.” Liza snatched it back, and he laughed.
She headed for the powder room, shut the door, then jumped back when she saw her reflection in the small, gilt-edged mirror. Daisy’s offerings suddenly looked much better. Anything would be an improvement, she realized.
A few minutes later, Liza emerged feeling drier, warmer, and much more presentable. She had washed up, twisted her wet hair into a knot at the back of her head, and secured it with some bobby pins she found in the bathroom. From the pile of antique clothes, she had picked out a dark blue velvet blouse with long full sleeves and a row of tiny, shiny buttons down the front. The blouse came down below her hips and had a high neck with a pointed collar. It would have looked very modest—a great disappointment compared to the sheer frilly number Daniel had picked out—except that it was a little snug across her bust.
But that couldn’t be helped, Liza thought. It was the only top that didn’t make her look like a heroine in a gothic romance. Well, not completely.
She couldn’t find anything suitable to replace her wet jeans, though Daisy had given her several long skirts. She managed to clean her pants off a bit and replaced her wet socks and sneakers with some thick, warm socks.
When she came back to the tearoom, Daniel was seated at a small table by a window at the front of the shop. The table was set for two with china teacups and plates. A teapot stood between the place settings, alongside a tiered tray of cakes and little sandwiches that made Liza instantly aware that she was starving.
Daniel was looking out the window and didn’t notice her approach until she pulled out her chair. “Not much improvement, but I feel a bit dryer,” she reported as she sat down.
His eyes widened, taking in her appearance. “You look great. I love that shirt . . . Here, have some tea. I think it’s ready.”
He leaned over and poured her a cup of tea, which was made with real leaves and had to be filtered with a silver strainer.
Liza felt a bit shaken by his compliments and was glad she didn’t need to handle a warm teapot at that moment.
“Daisy recommended something called Lapsang Souchong. I hope you like that kind.”
“It looks fine,” she said agreeably. “I’m not very fussy about tea. I hardly know the differences between all the blends.”
“Me either,” he admitted. “This one smells nice,” he noted, pouring himself a cup.
The tea did have a pleasant, flowery fragrance, Liza noticed. A sugar bowl held a selection of cubes, white and brown. Daisy also delivered paper-thin slices of lemon, a honey pot, and a small jug of cream. Liza added some honey to her cup, stirred, then took a sip.
Daniel fixed his tea with sugar and cream. The same way he liked his coffee, she noticed.
“So, you don’t really seem the tearoom type. Do you come here often?” she asked.
“Only when I need a good book. Or find a pretty woman wandering in the rain.”
Liza had been gazing at him but now looked away. His compliment made her blush. “I see . . . Does that happen often?”
“No, not often enough, come to think of it.” He popped a tiny cake in his mouth and smiled at her. “Hmm, these are good. Poppy seed.” He pointed one out on the tray. “You should try one.”
Liza scanned the tray and picked out the cake he suggested and also took a tiny sandwich, which looked as though it had cucumber and cream cheese inside.
She placed both on her plate with the silver tongs Daisy had supplied.
“So, how long have you been divorced?” he asked suddenly.
“Oh, not long. About three weeks officially. Though we’ve been separated for months. Nearly a year now, I guess. The paperwork seemed to take forever. Jeff is a good guy,” she added, “but we just want different things now.”
She looked up at him. “You’re not married or anything, are you?” Claire had told her Daniel was single, but Liza wanted to be sure.
“No, never been married. I was engaged once. It didn’t work out,” he replied quickly.
She wanted to ask why not but didn’t feel comfortable pushing for the details. “How long have you lived on the island?” she asked instead.
“Oh, about five years now. I was living up in Maine before that. In Portland. I just wanted a change,” he explained briefly.
Liza suspected there was more to that story, too, but she didn’t want to sound as if she were interrogating him.
“Five years is a long time. It must have been the right choice for you.”
“It was. So far, anyway,” he added. “How about you, Liza? Do you ever think of making a change? Of staying here?”
Liza was sipping her tea and suddenly sat back. The question caught her by surprise. “I didn’t at first. It was the furthest thing from my mind. But now . . . I’m not so sure. I’m wondering if we’re selling the inn too quickly, not considering all the possibilities.” She sighed and shook her head. “But my brother and I agreed to sell, and I don’t want to go back on my word to him.”
Daniel nodded. “I understand. Maybe he’ll come around to your point of view.”
“I doubt it. I’ve already tried to talk to him. Peter’s very set on selling. He needs the money for his business,” she confided.
“I see. And I guess you want to get back to your office. You have a big job in advertising, right?”
“Not as big as I thought, apparently.” She glanced at him. “I thought I was getting this great promotion. It was practically promised to me. But now it looks like it’s going to someone else.” Strangely, confessing that to Daniel wasn’t hard. For some reason, she felt none of the pain and embarrassment she had felt the day before.
“Oh . . . that’s too bad. That doesn’t seem right.” He offered her a sympathetic glance and poured more tea in her cup, then filled his own again. “You seem very devoted to your work.”
“
Obsessive
is probably a better word to describe it,” she admitted. “But now I’m beginning to wonder: What was the point? Sometimes I think I’d love to just quit that job. The problem is, I don’t know what else I would do. I just sort of work, eat, sleep . . . I’m a pretty boring person,” she added with a grin. “You ought to know that right up front.”
“Now that you mention it, that was one of the first things I noticed about you.” He met her glance and held it, his expression saying that he found her anything but.
“That’s funny, I thought the same thing about you.”
He smiled, then reached across the table and took her hand. “Well, we’re in agreement. No wonder we get along so well. You really ought to consider quitting your job and staying out here. Nothing much ever happens. It’s perfect for people like you and me.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Liza glanced up at him but couldn’t manage any more of an answer. She savored the sensation of his warm, strong hand holding hers. She liked looking into his eyes and feeling the rest of the world just slip away. It did feel perfect being with him, sitting here, sipping tea, the rain beating on the windows.
But this wasn’t real life, just a serendipitous moment.
“Actually, Audrey Gilroy tells me that you’re a volunteer at the medical clinic. So you’re not quite that boring after all. What do you do there?” she asked curiously.
“Oh, some EMS. Basic first-aid stuff.” He shrugged. “If people need a real doctor, we get them over to Southport Hospital or air vac them out.”
“Where did you learn to do EMS work? Did you drive an ambulance or something?”
“Back in college. It was a part-time job.” He looked as if he were about to say more when Daisy came by.
She smiled down at them. “How is everything? Would you like another pot of tea?” she asked, noticing theirs was just about empty.
“I’m fine,” Liza answered. She looked at Daniel. “We should probably get back to the inn,” she added, glancing at her watch. “I’ve been gone awhile now. They might just send out the real bloodhounds.”
“I guess so,” he agreed. “Just the check please, Daisy.”
Daisy smiled and produced a little order pad from the pocket of her apron. She tallied up their check and set it facedown on the table. Then she took another pad from a different pocket and tore off a sheet from that one, too.
“And here’s your poem.”
“Thank you, Daisy,” Liza said sincerely. “I really enjoyed the last one you gave me. I never got to tell you.”
“That’s all right. My poems are like birds. They’re meant to fly away and give other people pleasure with their song. Pass them on, dear. Pass them on.”
“Okay, I will,” Liza promised, liking the idea.