He drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair as he called up an image of her. Why no one had ever managed to convince her to stroll down the aisle was a mystery. Surely there had been plenty of men in her jet-setting world who would have been worthy candidates for her affection.
Heck, if he’d been in her orbit—and if he’d never met Jo Ann—he’d have been first in her suitor line.
But he hadn’t been.
And ifs didn’t change reality.
He’d been a postal worker for his entire career, content to run the same route day after day, with no ambition to rise in the ranks. Being able to leave the job behind at the end of the workday and spend his evenings and weekends with Jo Ann had been enough.
An ambitious woman like Steph, who’d fought her way to the top in a male-dominated industry, would be unimpressed with such an unenterprising attitude.
Why belabor a decision that was obvious?
He positioned his fingers on the keys of the laptop, struggling to compose a reply that wouldn’t hurt her feelings. The invitation had been kind, and it had taken courage to send it with the attendant risk of rejection.
But accepting was pointless.
Assuming they somehow managed to find common ground beyond the hum of attraction even his boss had noticed, she wouldn’t be staying around long.
And getting romantically involved with a short-timer . . . letting her infiltrate his heart . . . would be foolish.
Losing one woman he’d loved had about killed him.
Watching a second one vanish from his life would finish the job.
So despite the sizzle that had sparked between them the day she walked into The Perfect Blend, it was safer to keep his distance while she was in town—and forget about her the minute she left.
For both their sakes, that was the prudent course.
Now all he had to do was summon up the willpower to follow it.
The Perfect Blend was closed?
Frowning, Katherine twisted the knob again.
No question about it. The door was locked.
Cupping her hands around her face, she peered inside. The place was dark and empty.
How bizarre was that?
Hadn’t Zach said he was open every day from seven to one?
Stepping back from the door, she scanned the front of the building. There. The hours were posted on a placard inside the plate glass window beside the entrance.
She moved closer.
Huh.
The hours were seven to one—but the shop was closed on Sunday.
Seriously?
Who closed on Sundays in today’s world—especially a coffee shop? Wouldn’t that be one of the busier days?
So much for her skinny vanilla latte . . . and another chat with her neighbor.
Down the street, a bell began to chime the noon hour, and she angled toward the sound.
Must be from St. Francis. If all the cars in the parking lot she’d passed on her drive into town were any indication, they had a full house for the service that was either already underway or beginning.
Giving up weekly church attendance to protect her identity had been difficult—but now that Charley had deemed her disguise solid, maybe she could slip into the back of Grace Christian next Sunday. An hour in God’s house might help stabilize the crumbling foundation of her world.
The sun disappeared, and she shivered as a spiral of mist curled around her. A momentary dreary spell—or was the capricious fog about to sock in the town?
You never knew in Hope Harbor. One minute could be sunny, the next gray.
Kind of like life.
Shoulders slumping, chin down, she trudged back toward her car.
“Kat!”
At the summons, she halted and raised her head.
Stephanie stopped her rental car at the curb and called across the passenger seat, through the open window. “I thought that was you. I’ve been hoping you’d take me up on my offer to come into town and share a piece of Eleanor’s fudge cake, but I understand Zach beat me to it.”
So his aunt knew about their impromptu get-together.
What else had Zach told her?
“It was an unplanned stop. We ran into each other at the wharf.”
“So I heard. What are you doing in town today?”
She motioned toward the shuttered shop. “I was hoping for a latte, but I’m out of luck.”
“So is everyone else in town. I told Zach closing on Sunday wasn’t a smart business move, but he says it should be a day of rest—and that not every decision should be about money.”
Admirable—even if it left her latte craving unsatisfied.
“It’s not a big deal. I can stop in another day—and the coffee bar at the house I’m renting will satisfy my urge for caffeine.” If not for companionship.
“I have a counteroffer. Do you like tea?”
“Not as much as coffee.” Best to hedge until she saw where this was going.
“Well, unless you can’t stomach it or have other plans, why don’t you join me for afternoon tea? Zach and I were supposed to go, but he got roped into an emergency Helping Hands project as we were leaving church. His reservation will be wasted if you turn me down—and I’ll have to drink tea and eat scones and fancy cakes all by myself.” Stephanie grinned.
Afternoon tea.
That would be fun, but . . .
She examined her leggings and belted tunic. A bit more upscale attire than she’d been wearing during most of her stay—not that her trip to The Perfect Blend . . . or seeing Zach . . . had anything to do with her wardrobe choices today—but it wasn’t exactly formal.
“I’m not dressed for that sort of event.”
“Nonsense.” Her neighbor’s aunt waved the excuse aside. “You’re fine. I’m not wearing my tiara either.”
It was hard not to cave under the woman’s infectious good humor and down-to-earth manner.
And it wasn’t as if she was all that excited about the long, empty afternoon stretching ahead. Her brain was fried from constant thinking, and she couldn’t make any more candy until the next order of chocolate arrived.
Plus, from what she’d gleaned, Zach’s aunt had led a fascinating life. Listening to her stories for a couple of hours could be the break she needed to refresh her mind.
“You’ve convinced me. I haven’t been to a tea in ages.”
“Wonderful! Hop in.”
“Um . . . I could follow you.” She motioned toward her car, parked a few spots down.
“Why waste gas?”
“Are we going far?”
“Only a few miles. Bayview Lavender Farm and Tearoom is south of town. I met the owner at Zach’s church. A charming young woman. And the place gets rave reviews. It will be a perfect outing on a day that appears poised to turn gray.”
As if to confirm Stephanie’s prediction, a drop of rain splashed onto Katherine’s nose.
Since there was no logical excuse not to ride with Stephanie, she crossed the sidewalk and slid into the passenger seat.
The woman’s lively, nonstop chitchat lifted her spirits, and by the time they arrived at their destination, Katherine’s mood was much more upbeat.
“Is this a real lavender farm?” She scanned the cars in the small parking lot in front of the low-slung building.
“Yes. I believe the flower beds are in the back. Jeannette West, the owner, moved here several years ago and ended up marrying the doctor from the urgent care center in town.” Stephanie shut off the engine. “Shall we?”