His Unexpected Twins. Carrie Nichols

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      Not exactly subtle, Meg. Ellie fiddled with the strap of her purse. “Yeah, they’ve got small trees in ceramic pots scattered around with tiny LED lights strung around the trunks and branches. Very pretty, with lots of atmosphere.”

      The air in the confined space felt supercharged with something...awareness? Chemistry? She couldn’t be sure, couldn’t even be sure that he felt it, too. Maybe this was all in her head. All one-sided, like it had been in her childhood.

      He glanced at her for a second before bringing his attention back to the road. “So, you’ve been to Angelo’s patio?”

      Was he trying to get information on her social life or lack thereof? “No, but Mary and Meg have both been.” She huffed out her breath. “Believe me, I’ve heard all about it.”

      He reached over and laid his hand over hers. “Sounds like I may have to take up the challenge to be sure you get to experience this patio, too.”

      Her heart did a little bump, but she laughed, hoping to brazen through. “You signing me up as their new janitor, McBride?”

      He squeezed her hand and brought it to his chest. “You wound me, Harding. I was thinking more along the lines of the waitstaff. I can see you in a white blouse and a cute little black skirt.”

      “Glad we cleared that up.” She laughed for real this time. Date or not, there was no reason she couldn’t enjoy being with Liam. Even if anything that could happen with Liam had nowhere to go. They didn’t live in the same town. And then there was the whole thing with Liam having used his job to avoid dealing with his emotions. Even his sister couldn’t deny that truth. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy hanging out with him while he was here. Having a life-threatening illness like lymphoma had taught her she didn’t want to die with regrets if she could help it. After enduring chemo coupled with radiation, she’d been in remission for almost nine years, a good chunk of time, and her oncologist was optimistic but the experience had changed her outlook on life.

      “How are the renovations coming?” she asked.

      He squeezed her hand and put it back on her lap. “Is this you changing the subject?”

      “So you can take a hint.”

      He jokingly muttered something about respect for her elders but launched into an amusing story about framing out the new master bedroom closet at Meg and Riley’s place.

      “That house is going to be awesome once the addition is finished.”

      He made a hum of agreement. “Yeah, I guess she made the right choice moving here.”

      “She said you had tried to get her to move into one of your rentals.” She hadn’t seen Liam’s place, but she knew he owned one of those iconic Boston three-family homes commonly referred to as “three-deckers” by the locals. He’d purchased it as a bank foreclosure and had been remodeling it ever since, according to Meg. Ellie knew it was Liam’s pride and joy.

      “I did, but she’s always loved this town and that vacation home. Even all the repairs it needed didn’t deter her. My sister can be stubborn.”

      Ellie laughed. “Yeah, so I noticed.”

      “But I gotta say, she made the right choice for her.” He stopped for a red light.

      “What about you?” The words were out before she could prevent them.

      He turned his head to look at her. “Me? I’m exactly where I belong.”

      Yeah, that’s what she thought. And like Meg, he was happy where he lived.

      Swallowing, she pointed out the windshield. “Green light.”

      She glanced at Liam’s strong profile. Could she be happy in Boston? “No regrets” included trying new things, new places.

      Hey, Ellie, aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself? This wasn’t even a real date.

      The route along Main Street took them past a few rectangular, early-nineteenth-century gable-roofed houses gathered around the town green. Some of the stately homes had been repurposed as doctors’ offices, an insurance agency and an attorney’s office, but some were still single-family residences.

      The manicured common space boasted a restored white gazebo that doubled as a bandstand for concerts and picnics in the summer. Homes soon gave way to brick-fronted businesses, and the white Greek Revival church where they held the weekly lunches. With its black shutters and steeple bell tower, the church anchored the green at one end.

      No doubt the town was picturesque, but she recalled how, when she was sick, the women of Loon Lake had worked year-round to keep the Hardings’ refrigerator full of casseroles and sandwich fixings. In the summer, the men had made sure their lawn was mowed. In the winter, the men plowing for the town had been careful to keep the end of their driveway relatively clear.

      He pulled the truck into one of the angled parking spots in front of the pub-style restaurant. “I’m assuming you’ve been here before, since you said you liked the burgers.”

      “Yeah, I’ve been a few times with some of the people from work.”

      He turned the engine off and opened his door. Ellie opened hers and was getting out when he came around to her side. He put his hand under her elbow to steady her as she scrambled out. His touch sent sparks up her arm...straight to her core.

      You’d better be listening, she cautioned her heart. Liam and I are hanging out, nothing more. Unlike Angelo’s, this wasn’t a romantic date place. Since this wasn’t a date, she had no right to feel disappointed. And she certainly had no right to be using or thinking the word romantic in context with anything she and Liam did.

      They strolled across the sidewalk to the entrance, his hand hovering over the small of her back, not quite touching. How was she supposed to read the mixed signals he was sending? Maybe it was all her fault for trying to read things into his actions and words that weren’t there. Your fault because you wanted this to be a date and it’s a let’s-hang-out night. She swallowed the sigh that bubbled up.

      He turned his head toward her as they made their way toward the restaurant. “Something wrong with Hennen’s?”

      Had he picked up on her confusion? She shook her head. “No. It’s fine.”

      “Hey, I’m not such a guy that I don’t know what ‘fine’ in that tone of voice means.” He held the glass entry door open.

      After stepping inside, she glanced up at him, her eyebrows raised. “And what does ‘fine’ mean?”

      The outer door shut, leaving them alone in the restaurant’s vestibule. A small table with a bowl of wrapped mints and stack of takeout menus stood off to one side. Muffled sounds—music, conversations and clinking of dishware—came from beyond the inner door.

      “I’m thinking it means there’s something wrong and I’m expected to figure it out.” His light blue eyes darkened.

      Lost in those eyes, she had to swallow before she could speak. “And have you figured it out?”

      “No, СКАЧАТЬ