Driftwood Bay (Hope Harbor #5) - Irene Hannon Page 0,71

the window. As for those generous lips— Don’t go there, Jeannette.

She edged back. “Uh . . . I should be able to get more sleep soon. He won’t need as many feedings once he’s on solid food.”

“Can I pick him up, ’Nette?”

The perfect distraction.

She redirected her attention to Molly. “I’ll pick him up for you—but you can hold him. Why don’t you sit at the table?”

Keeping her back to Logan, she lifted the kitten and its blanket, cradling the bundle gently in her arms as she walked over to Molly and set Button in her lap.

As the girl began to stroke him, the kitten emitted a soft purr.

“He’s talking to me!”

“Yes, he is.” Jeannette sat beside her, and Logan claimed an adjacent chair. “I wonder what he’s saying?”

“Charley would know.” Molly continued to pet the cat. “He talks to animals—like Floyd and Gladys. Can we get tacos again, Uncle Logan?”

“I think that could be arranged.”

“Maybe we could have another picnic on the beach.”

“I like that idea.”

“You could come too, ’Nette.”

She snuffed out the surge of longing that swept over her at that notion.

No, she couldn’t.

Even this brief interlude was a mistake.

“I could think about that.” She stood. “I better get Button back in his box. He still likes to sleep away most of the day.”

Logan rose at once, carefully plucking the kitten and blanket out of Molly’s lap. “And we better get back to Toby or he’s going to get laryngitis.” He hesitated and arched his eyebrows, a spark of amusement putting a wicked gleam in his eyes. “On second thought . . .”

Despite herself, she chuckled. The man’s infectious good humor was hard to resist.

“No . . . we’ll suck it up and take him off your hands.” He deposited Button back in the box. “You’re welcome to join us for our walk.”

“Thanks—but I have to clean up from the tea and set up for another feeding.”

“Then we’ll get out of your hair. Come on, Molly.”

He hadn’t pushed.

A surge of disappointment welled up inside her, but she tamped it down. She should be glad he’d let it go. With her resistance at low ebb, she could have compounded her mistake by capitulating.

She walked them to the door. “Enjoy the beach.”

“It would be better if you came.” Molly linked her hands behind her and lifted her chin. “If you were there, I could pretend I had a mommy. You’d be a good mommy, ’Nette.”

Somehow she managed to dredge up a smile. “Thank you for saying that, honey.”

But the job came with too many risks.

She motioned to Toby, who’d stopped barking when she opened the door but had started up again. “Our beagle friend is getting impatient.”

“And Thomma isn’t here with his magic touch to quiet the beast.” Logan took Molly’s hand and slipped past her. “Thanks for letting us see Button. Keep up the great work.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond as he freed Toby from the umbrella and led Molly down the path among the lavender beds, toward the rear of the property and the beach access.

Molly looked back once to wave.

Logan didn’t—surprising after his earlier comment about her making his day . . . and that brush of fingers under her lashes.

The man was sending mixed signals.

And who could blame him?

She was sending mixed signals.

One day she asks him in, the next she avoids him like the plague.

That sort of inconsistent behavior would confuse anyone.

Yet one thing was clear.

The man was interested in her—and with a smidgen of encouragement, he’d ask her out.

A date with Logan.

Now that had intriguing possibilities.

From the shadows where she watched them disappear into the dunes, her mouth bowed of its own accord.

Not good.

She forced it back into a straight line at once.

There would be no dates in her future.

Nor motherhood.

That had been her decision three years ago, and she saw no reason to rethink it.

Well . . . that wasn’t quite true.

Two reasons had spent the past few minutes in her kitchen.

However . . . she had to be strong about this. She’d survived the last loss—barely. But she might not be as fortunate the next time . . . if there was a next time.

And the only way to guarantee she was never put to that test was to avoid all relationships—a rule that hadn’t been difficult to follow until a handsome doctor learning how to be a single dad had moved in next door and resurrected feelings best left buried.

Squaring her shoulders, she marched to the counter and pulled out