was going to be sorry he’d ever ventured onto Blackberry Beach on this bright Tuesday afternoon.
The mystery woman was on his beach.
Zach stared at the slender figure in the distance as he did the math.
Since he knew the handful of other residents in this neck of the woods . . . and the house next door to him was the only rental property in this area . . . and there wasn’t any evidence of a boat indicating Kat had accessed the beach by water . . . that meant she was his temporary neighbor.
It also meant she didn’t have any money problems. The Clark house occupied the prime location above the beach, and its expansive views and amenities merited top dollar.
At least that’s what Charley, who lived farther up on this curving stretch of coast, had told him.
He propped his hands on his hips as he watched her peer into one of the pools that formed in the rocks at the far end of the beach during low tide.
Was the proximity of her accommodations to his home due to benevolent providence—or plain old good luck?
Based on her skittishness and attempts to remain anonymous, it wasn’t likely she’d consider the coincidence to be either.
Should he disappear back up the trail and leave her to her solitary endeavors . . . or try again to breach the wall she’d erected around herself?
In view of Charley’s conclusion that she was in need of a friend, there was no question what the renowned artist would recommend.
But in all likelihood, she’d rebuff an approach. She must have noticed him when she’d arrived at the beach—yet she’d walked the other direction.
Not a positive sign she’d welcome company.
On the other hand, she may have thought he was a stranger. It would have been difficult for her to identity him from the back. If she’d realized they’d met, it was possible she’d be receptive to an overture.
Or not.
He took off his cap and scratched his head. Either option could be the wrong one. There was no way to predict the outcome.
So instead of standing around debating his strategy, why not say hello? Give her an opening to display the latent sociability Charley was certain lay under her frosty surface.
Decision made, he tugged his cap back on and strode her direction.
She continued to explore the tide pool, giving no indication she was aware of his approach.
Ten feet away, he stopped. Should he wait until she noticed him, or call out a greeting?
Whichever approach he chose, she was going to be startled—and if he waited for her to spot him, she might not be happy to find him standing here gawking at her.
Best to take the initiative.
“We meet again.”
She gasped and swung around, arm extended, finger on the trigger of a canister aimed at his face.
“Hey.” Pulse surging, he held out his hands, palms forward, and took a quick step back on the hard-packed sand. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just trying to be neighborly and welcome you to the area. No harm intended. My name’s Zach Garrett—and we happen to share this beach.”
Several slow, silent seconds ticked by as she inspected him from behind her dark glasses.
The canister never wavered.
Was it possible she didn’t recognize him from the shop?
If he didn’t remind her of their encounter last week—fast—he could end up with burning eyes and balking lungs.
“We’ve met, you know. At The Perfect Blend, in town.”
After a few more beats passed, she lowered the canister. “I remember.”
“You must be renting the Clark house.”
She didn’t respond.
Geez.
Either Charley was uncharacteristically off base in his assessment and this woman was more cold than cautious—or she was super freaked out and gun-shy for traumatic reasons.
“If you’re wondering how I know that, I live next door.” He hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans, keeping his posture casual and nonthreatening. The tension radiating from this woman was almost palpable. “It’s also the only house with access to Blackberry Beach that’s rented out. I know all the other residents.”
Her rigid stance relaxed a hair. “Thanks for the explanation. Sorry if I overreacted.”
“No worries. It never hurts to be too careful these days. We live in a crazy world.”
Her throat worked. “Yes, we do.”
He waited for her to put the canister away.
She didn’t.
Find a more innocuous subject, Garrett.
“Is this your first trip to the beach?”
“Yes.”
“I see you sampled the namesake berries during your descent.” He smiled and tapped the corner of his lips.
She lifted a hand, as if to