The Life Of Reilly. Sue Civil-Brown
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Название: The Life Of Reilly

Автор: Sue Civil-Brown

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Зарубежные любовные романы

Серия: Mills & Boon M&B

isbn: 9781408976548

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ hope you like dill,” he said, reaching for the wire fish basket.

      “Love it.”

      The potatoes were done, so he put the fish over the heat. It would cook fast, even though the coals had burned low and gray.

      “It’s nice of you to ask me over,” Lynn said. “I’ve got a grill out back and a patio, too, but every time I think of actually grilling, it seems like a lot of effort for just one person.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “It’s funny, when I moved here, I was sure I was going to do all those things that come to mind when you move to the tropics. Cook and eat outside, spend hours on the beach or in the water.”

      He chuckled. “I know. It turns out you have to make a real effort to do it, just the way it was back on the mainland. I fight the battle every day.”

      “Do you?” She looped her fingers and rested her chin on them.

      “Yep. I don’t know if I feel lazy because of the weather and the lifestyle, or if it really is too much trouble to bother for one person.”

      She laughed, her brown eyes sparkling. “The air is so soft it’s almost tranquilizing. And when the breeze starts in the evening, I just want to sit and enjoy it.”

      “Yeah, I have the same problem. The longer you live here, the easier it gets to function, but at first you just want to go on a permanent vacation.”

      “School keeps me busy, thank goodness. Some things can’t be ignored, like teaching a class or grading papers.”

      He flipped the fish over. “How many students do you have?”

      “All the younger ones, from first grade up, then high-school physics one and two, calculus and applied math.” She held up a hand. “It sounds like a lot, but I have a total of sixty-three kids.”

      “So lots of individual attention.”

      “That’s what attracted me to this island in the first place. With so few students in each class, we can explore more. And I can get some of them hooked on science, so maybe they’ll stay with it after they graduate.”

      “You’re passionate,” he said.

      She shrugged. “There’s a big universe out there. The better we understand it, the better we’ll know our place in it. Maybe we’ll stop acting as if it’s our garbage can. In fact, I’m thinking about taking some of the classes for a day trip to see an island in its pristine state. One of the parents was telling me about a small island where the only fresh water is in a rain pool.”

      Jack nodded and tested the fish. “Just another minute.” Looking back at her, he continued. “I don’t think our kids appreciate just how important rain pools are to our survival. This island would be dead without rain, and we’ve had to dig cisterns in the rock up on the volcano to ensure a steady flow. It doesn’t just magically come out of the tap.”

      “It doesn’t do that anywhere,” she smiled. “But yes, I agree with your point. It’s especially critical on these small islands. Rain is truly the gift of life.”

      “Just ask Mars.” He removed the fish from the grill and gently pushed a piece onto each plate. Then he forked the potatoes out of the coals and set them on a separate plate. “I’m afraid I don’t have sour cream, but I have—”

      “I have sour cream,” said a voice from the deepening dark next door. Zed stepped out of the shadows. For once tobacco didn’t create a bulge in his cheek. “You must be the new schoolteacher.”

      Jack rolled his eyes. “Lynn, this is Zed.”

      “Zed-the-Bait-Guy,” Lynn said quickly.

      “Hi.” Zed extended a hand in greeting and smiled broadly, a mistake considering what the chaw had done to his teeth. “Let me get that sour cream for you.”

      Jack put his hands on his narrow hips. “I thought you had a poker game?”

      Zed smiled. “Was just getting ready to leave.”

      Right, Jack thought. And people complained about his curiosity.

      Zed returned in thirty seconds with a carton of sour cream. “Keep what you don’t use,” he said. “Seeing as how I can get more when I buy more spuds.”

      “Thank you,” Lynn said.

      “Yeah, thanks,” Jack said. “Your game?”

      “My game?” Zed blinked. “Oh, yeah, my game. Wouldn’t want somebody else to get at Hester first because I didn’t show. See ya later.”

      After his footsteps vanished into the sound of the surf that was only a few blocks away, Lynn asked, “Does Hester know they’re playing for her?”

      Jack reached for a spoon to use with the sour cream and passed both to Lynn. “Probably. There aren’t a lot of secrets around here.”

      She nodded. “Makes sense.”

      He lifted an eyebrow. “You think so?”

      “Why not?” she asked. “Human attraction is largely random anyway. It’s a matter of pheromones—whether the other person smells like a viable reproductive partner. And we don’t even know it. At the most basic level, it’s about whether proteins in our brain are open or folded, a largely random function of precisely where the potentiality wave collapses into a point particle. So why not turn it over to the deal of a card?”

      Jack looked at her, trying to find words. “Umm…”

      She laughed. “Sorry. I go over the top sometimes.”

      “It’s just that I’ve never heard love spoken of in such…cold terms.”

      “Noooo,” she said. “It’s not cold at all. It’s quite beautiful, in fact. The universe deals to each of us in turn, random shuffling at the Planck scale, and yet we’re responsible for how we play every card we’re dealt. It’s a mathematical and ethical symphony beyond imagining.”

      “Planck scale?” Jack asked, then shook his head. “Never mind. How’s the fish?”

      “Fantastic! I don’t think I’ve ever had fish this fresh.”

      “It came in on the boat this morning. One of the perks of living here.”

      For a little while they were quiet, enjoying the food and the deepening tropical evening. As the last of the daylight faded, two citronella candles in clay pots provided the illumination. If there were any mosquitoes on the island, Lynne had yet to run into them, but the candles drew the attention of an equally successful pest: moths.

      With her chin resting in her hand, she watched as Jack gently waved them away, saving them from death by fatal attraction. She couldn’t help but find it touching; surely he was the first person she’d ever met who actually cared what happened to a moth.

      “These fellows,” he said as he waved them away, “are harmless, though not particularly pretty. It won’t be long though before the real butterflies start emerging. The colors СКАЧАТЬ