were a teenager. It broke my heart.”
“I didn’t think you knew.”
“Baby, of course I knew. I’m your mom. Just like I knew the night you came back from a date with Melony Fisher you’d had sex for the first time.”
He actually felt heat rush up the back of his neck. “Jesus, Mom.”
She laughed herself breathless. “I know what I know, and I trusted you’d been careful as your father and I drummed safe sex, respect, and consequences in all your heads. Make sure you remember all that with Clare.”
“Jesus, Mom.”
“You’re repeating yourself.”
“I—” When his phone rang, he snatched at it like a lifeline. “Owen. You don’t know why, but I owe you big. I’m out at the shop, why? He what? Seriously. Yeah, yeah, I’ll come in.”
He shoved the phone back in his pocket. “Ry’s sucking up after this morning. He’s taking your wall out. They want me to come take a look.”
“Go on then. Have you got anything going on tonight?”
“No.”
“You could pick up a pizza, come back. I’ll go over what I ordered today, and a few things I’m mulling over.”
“I can do that.”
“If either or both of your brothers hasn’t managed a date on Saturday night, I don’t know what the hell’s wrong with them. But if not, and they want, get more pizza.”
BY MONDAY, THEY had crew in three buildings, painting the vacant apartment, prepping for paint at the gift shop, and since the temperatures dropped a little, doing exterior paint at the inn. Copper shone in the sun as the roofers worked on the mansard.
By ten, ready for a break, Beckett walked over to the bookstore.
He found Clare at Laurie’s station. “Hey. Where’s your crew?”
“Laurie had a dentist appointment. She’ll be in later. Cassie’s due in any minute, and Charlene’s coming at one. I said I’d open today anyway so I wouldn’t sit home and brood.”
“Brood?”
“First day of school.” She walked behind the counter to make his coffee without being asked.
He supposed that made him predictable.
“Did they get off okay?”
“Oh yeah. They were raring to go—that’ll last about a week. They’re excited about seeing all their friends, using their new supplies. I’m the one having problems,” she admitted. “I didn’t even go back to the house after I dropped them off because I knew the quiet would kill me. That’ll probably last about a week, too, then I’ll be annoyed when they have one of those professional days, and the kids have off.”
He dug back in his memory, felt a little glow. “I loved those.”
“I bet your mother didn’t. I’ve been watching all the activity this morning. It feels like the whole town’s buzzing with it.”
“We’re scattered everywhere. Mom wants to open the gift shop in about six weeks. You knew,” he said when she cleared her throat.
“She may have mentioned it. It’s great Hope will be here for the opening.” Clare handed him the coffee. “She’ll be able to meet some people.”
“Opening? We’re having an opening? I should’ve figured.”
“Your mother will take care of it. I imagine you’ll just have to show up.” Obviously amused by the worry on his face, she gave his hand a pat. “Consider it a trial run for the opening for the inn.”
“I guess I’ll need a date. How about—sorry.” He pulled out his phone. “Yeah. No, I drew that up. I showed you. Yes, I—no, I didn’t. I left them at home. I’ll get them and be right there. Gotta go,” he said as he shoved his phone away.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said when he reached for his wallet. “First cup, first customer. No charge on back-to-school day.”
“Thanks. Why don’t we—” His phone rang again, and the bookstore line jingled along with it. “Later,” he said and headed out with his phone to his ear. “What now?”
IT WAS A week of fits and starts, progress and delays, with plenty of frustration mixed in. Beckett found now that he didn’t feel as obliged to come up with an excuse to see Clare, he didn’t have time. And when he did, she didn’t.
“You’d think two people who live and work in the same town could manage more than a five-minute conversation.” Beckett installed yet another picket on the third-floor porch.
“You’ve got it bad. I’ve got it bad,” Ryder decided, “when I know who you’re whining about even when you don’t use names.”
“I’m not whining, I’m just saying.”
“Aren’t you going out tomorrow night?”
No point in admitting he still felt the need to sort of work up to that. “Yeah.”
“Talk then.