Kiss Me in the Summer - Barbara Dunlop Page 0,10

suitcase or my car.”

Josh glanced at Madeline.

“She’s from New York City,” Madeline said.

“Ah,” Josh said.

“What do you mean ah? There’s crime everywhere.” I wasn’t going to be swayed by his smug small-town civic-peace superiority. He couldn’t possibly know to trust every car that might drive past mine.

“Nobody’s going to steal anything around here.” He took a swig of his tea, easily draining half the cup.

“Not with the doors locked, they won’t.”

“We’re the friendliest town in New England.” He sounded proud.

I didn’t know why I was being contrary. I took a sip of my tea instead of answering back. It tasted great.

He set his cup down on the saucer and held out his palm. “Hand over the keys.”

I felt terrible about inconveniencing him. “I don’t want you to—”

“You can’t exactly walk them up the highway to Gerry.”

“Josh will catch him,” Madeline said.

I didn’t see that I had any choice, so I dug out my car keys. “Do you want me to . . . um . . . come along for company?” I wanted to contribute something to the effort.

He grinned at that. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. It won’t take long at all.”

While I plunked the keys in his palm, he used the other hand to put his phone back to his ear. He gave me an affable grin and stuffed the keys into the front pocket of his jeans. “Hey, Gerry. Door’s locked. You’re going to need the keys.” He paused and took me in once more. “On my way.”

“I wish I could help,” I said out loud.

“Sit back and enjoy your tea,” Madeline said.

Josh pocketed his phone and rose from the chair, polishing off his tea. “I’ll get the keys back to you tomorrow morning.”

His words took me by surprise. “Tomorrow?” I asked.

“Gerry’s not going to fix your car tonight.”

I felt foolish. Of course Gerry wasn’t going to pull an all-nighter to get me back on the road. What was I thinking? That left me with tonight. I quickly rose from my chair before Josh could leave. “Could you possibly drop me off at a hotel?”

He gave me a puzzled look.

“Or I could get a cab. I’ll call a cab.” I hadn’t meant to be presumptuous.

“The Midsummer Inn is closed,” Madeline said.

“They’re doing a major renovation this year,” Josh said.

I got a sinking feeling. “Don’t tell me it’s the only hotel in town.”

“It’s the only hotel in town,” he said.

“Maybe a bed and breakfast? Or a nearby town?” I wondered if Rutter’s Point was on a bus route. Maybe I’d have to spring for a very long taxi ride.

“Don’t be silly,” Madeline said. “You can stay here.”

My instinct was to refuse. Nobody wanted a stranger dropping out of the sky and then turning into a houseguest—nobody. “I couldn’t put you out,” I quickly said. Then I gathered up my tote bag. “There must be options.”

Madeline stood, her tone turning brisk. “There’s one very good option.”

“You might not want to fight it,” Josh told me with a meaningful grin.

“I have three guest bedrooms. You can have your pick.”

“That’s incredibly generous of you, but—”

“No buts about it,” Madeline said. “Josh, bring Laila’s suitcase back here. I’ll get her settled in the veranda room. You’ll like it,” she said to me. “The bed’s very comfortable.”

“In your trunk?” Josh asked me as he carried on for the doorway.

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I just stared at him.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He disappeared around the corner.

“The sheets and towels in the bathroom are fresh,” Madeline said. “And we’ll have to do something about dinner. It’s Thursday night. They have a two-for-one special at Guido’s. Do you like takeout pizza? I think I have a nice Chianti in the wine cellar.”

I felt like I’d been swept up in a whirlwind of small-town hospitality. As a cool, aloof New Yorker, I didn’t want to love it. But it definitely had an appeal.

Chapter Three

I was surprised by how well I slept, and also by how late I slept since I was usually an early riser. Madeline’s guest room was down the hall from the kitchen in a quiet corner at the back of the house. The big, four-poster bed was soft with a thick silk comforter and six fluffy pillows. Getting into it last night had felt like crawling into a cloud.

The adjoining bathroom was bright and roomy. The rain shower was to die for, and the towels were cushy and absorbent. Although Madeline had obviously not been expecting company,