Kiss Me in the Summer - Barbara Dunlop Page 0,29

few years back.”

“A New York City judge?”

“Is there something confusing about my conversational style?” He looked amused.

“I’m surprised.”

“She was a very well-respected lawyer.”

“Clearly.” I reframed my opinion of Madeline, realizing I’d made some misjudgments. “It was her driving and, well, her . . . let’s call it flamboyance, that threw me.”

“It throws everyone at first.”

“Did she start sitting before or after Judge Winterspoon?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“He had a unique style. Madeline has a unique style. I wondered if one of them might have influenced the other.” I wanted to ask Madeline about her sentencing.

Judge Winterspoon had definitely imposed some zany sentences. But there was a logic to them as well, definitely a sense of justice at their core. I wanted to learn more about his thinking.

“So, you’ll stay?” Josh asked with a hopeful note in his voice.

I hesitated. If I said yes to helping Madeline, I’d have to say yes to helping Josh too. That would take me all the way to the summer festival. There’d be no way to avoid doggie baths.

“It seems like you have some time to kill,” he said.

I couldn’t lie, so I didn’t answer.

“You like it here,” he continued. He searched my expression. “I mean, it seems like you like it here.”

I couldn’t lie about that either. I did like Rutter’s Point. And I liked Josh. I liked Josh a whole lot more than I was comfortable with.

“I don’t understand your hesitation.” He sounded disappointed in me.

I was disappointed in me too. “There’s an ugly divorce with a cat dispute.” It was a silly excuse, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

“Right, Buffy and Mumu.”

“You know the cats?”

“I’m the vet. They’re best friends.”

I told myself to form the word no. I could be out of Rutter’s Point in just a day or so. I’d get over the guilt eventually, and it really wasn’t my problem. I shaped my lips to the letter N.

I saw judgment forming in his expression. He was perfectly right to judge me. I’d be wrong to let fear keep me from helping the people who’d been so kind.

“Yes,” I said.

He drew back a little in surprise. “You’ll do it?”

I nodded.

“I didn’t expect—I mean you looked—”

“It’s the least I can do.” It was the right choice, the only choice.

“It’s way beyond the least you can do,” he said, taking a few steps along the wine rack. “But I’m taking the yes before you can change your mind.” He retrieved the bottle of wine with the big blue sticker. “The Chateau Quentin will be perfect.”

“You don’t think Madeline will mind?”

“Madeline will want to celebrate. She’ll want to say thanks and have a toast to you staying.”

I thought he was getting a bit carried away. “Maybe we could toast to the twins.”

“Sure. Them too. But you first.”

“You’re making way too big a deal about this.” If it hadn’t been for the dog adoption plans, I would have said yes right away because it really wasn’t that much of an imposition.

“I’m making exactly the right size of deal about this. Because of you, Becky can rest and Madeline can keep her personal health issues private. She would have had to cancel appointments and send her cases out of town. People would have asked questions.”

I hadn’t thought of it from that perspective. “So, people don’t know?”

“She might be flamboyant, but she’s also very private and very proud.”

“I understand that.” I didn’t blame her. I’d probably feel the same way.

He turned the label to me. “You’re going to love this.”

“I’m sure I will.”

I turned for the door, and he touched the small of my back. It was obviously a reflexive gentlemanly gesture, but it felt intimate. It felt good. A warm buzz flowed through my stomach and all the way out to my fingertips.

I conjured up a vivid picture of myself in his arms, and I could all but feel his strong embrace.

Chapter Six

Becky and Ben’s home wasn’t nearly as opulent as Madeline’s, but it was only a block from the ocean and undeniably pretty, with a floral sofa, twin potted palms in front of a bay window, and two plush, peach-colored armchairs that reclined.

Becky was reclining in one of them and tried to offer me refreshments, but I wasn’t about to let her get up. Eventually, we compromised on me hunting for a couple soft drinks in her refrigerator.

“There are tall glasses on the middle shelf above the coffee maker!” she called.

I opened the cupboard. “I see them.”

“You might have to switch the