Cradling her wrist, she searched his face. As if she wondered whether he was having second thoughts about his offer.
Smart lady.
But despite any qualms she picked up, she didn’t let him off the hook. “A cup of coffee would hit the spot.”
Relief and dismay butted heads—but dismay triumphed. Spending another hour in Holly’s company wasn’t going to benefit either of them in the long run.
So he’d conjure up an excuse about not wanting to interrupt his brother’s Sunday any more than necessary and keep this short.
“Okay. Let’s do this.” He coaxed up the corners of his lips. No reason to ruin Holly’s morning coffee. “Have you been to the new shop yet?”
“No. I was hoping to stop by for the grand opening last week, but school was crazy and I was too tired at the end of the day to do anything but go home and crash. Have you tried it?”
“Yes. I swung by after a charter fishing trip—but since I reeked of fish, I didn’t linger. I doubt the owner would have appreciated me stinking up his shop. The java was first class, though. It’s about time Hope Harbor had a real coffee shop.”
He opened the door of her car, helped her in, and took his place behind the wheel. The shop on Main Street was walking distance—what wasn’t, in a community the size of Hope Harbor? But hiking around town under normal circumstances might be taxing for Holly . . . and with an aching wrist it would be torture.
Less than five minutes later, he pulled up in front of the Perfect Blend and peered into the dark interior. “Huh. It doesn’t seem to be open. Sit tight and let me find out what’s going on.”
He slid out of the car, noted the hours on the placard in the front window, and rejoined her.
“What’s the story?” She hiked up an eyebrow.
“Closed on Sunday.” He scanned the shop again as he shut his door. “He’s losing serious revenue by shutting down on a weekend. That’s when we have the bulk of our tourists.”
“Could be he believes in honoring the Sabbath. Did you meet the owner?” She examined the storefront.
“Yeah. Zach Garrett. Pleasant guy. I’m sorry I couldn’t introduce you to his barista skills.”
“We could always try again another day.”
He let her comment pass and twisted the key in the ignition. “You should probably elevate your wrist anyway—and that will be easier to do at home. You’ll have to direct me.”
She did, leading him north of the business district to a small street on the fringe of town that dead-ended at the sea.
“I’m the second house from the end.” She indicated the tiny bungalow as they approached.
He swung into the driveway and set the brake as a car pulled out of the driveway next door, an older man behind the wheel.
Holly lifted a hand in greeting, and the man gave her a brief wave. “I’m hoping to hook him up with your brother.”
“Does he need help with yard work too?”
“Not that he’s admitted—but yes, he does.” Twin creases dented Holly’s brow as she surveyed the small house next door. “He has . . . issues.” She sighed and turned back to him. “Thanks for bringing me home.”
“My pleasure.”
“I guarantee my coffee won’t live up to our new barista’s, but let me make you a cup while you wait for your brother.”
“Thanks, but I’ll text him after I walk you to the door, then stroll back toward town. I may get to church before the service ends and save him a trip.”
“It’s a long walk.”
For her, perhaps. Not for someone who’d trekked mile after grueling mile in high desert and harsh mountain terrain toting a ton of gear—and on red alert for a sudden attack.
“I prefer to think of it as a chance to give my leg muscles a workout. I’m still not used to being confined to a boat for hours at a stretch.”
She bit her lip. “I wouldn’t want to interfere with your fitness regimen . . . but I could use some advice about my neighbor if you have a few minutes to spare. I won’t delay you long.”
Now how was he supposed to turn down that request without coming across as rude or uncaring?
Not that her opinion of him should matter if he wanted to keep her at arm’s length.
Yet it did.
Besides . . . while she was picking his brain, he could do a bit of digging too. Try to determine the strength