At First Touch (The Malone Brothers) by Cindy Miles Page B

meeting here. Don’t you have a coast to guard?”
    Again, all the old guys laughed.
    They were quite the characters. Reagan could hardly believe they were all still alive. Emily had said Mr. Wimpy just turned ninety-seven on his birthday in June. He was the eldest of the brothers, followed by Ted, Sidney, then Dub. It was nothing short of amazing.
    “Well,” Eric started beside her. “This is the coast, guys, and this pretty thing might need rescuing after spending any amount of time with you.”
    The guys grumbled and complained, good-naturedly of course.
    Eric leaned toward her. “I’ll pick you up here in a couple of hours,” he stated. “And before you open your mouth, remember your promise.”
    Well, there went any plans to worm her way out of that one. She had in fact made a promise.
    She’d just simply have to make sure she kept things completely friendly and platonic. Reality in perspective. And not become a rebound girl.
    Eric told the group goodbye and went on his way, leaving Reagan and Emily with an aged group of World War II vets who had more stories than an encyclopedia. Emily made eggs Benedict for the whole table, with a side of crisp bacon and toast. The breeze off the Atlantic kept the chimes tinkling, the ebb and flow of the rising tide washed against the beach in a rhythmic tone, and the gulls cried as they skimmed overhead. Reagan relaxed and enjoyed her company, but soon they rose and said their goodbyes, and Em explained that they made their way to the boardwalk where a young guy picked them up in what Ted called “the Caddy”—an extra-seated golf cart—to take them back to the assisted living apartments. Only Wimpy and his wife, Frances, still lived in the same house they’d been living in since the war ended, and that was right beside the Quinns on the river.
    Time passed quickly as Em and Reagan sat on the veranda, going over wedding plans and details. The whole while, though, Reagan couldn’t help but wonder just what Eric Malone had up his sleeves.
    All too soon, she figured, she’d find out.
    “God bless America,” Emily breathed with a hearty sigh. “That Eric Malone is too stinking cute in his uniform.” She giggled. “But he’s downright sexy in a pair of worn jeans and a black T-shirt.”
    For once, Reagan thought that perhaps her handicap may be a help and not a hindrance. How strong would her resolve be if she could actually see him?

CHAPTER TEN
    “L ADIES ,” E RIC SAID as he took the veranda steps two at a time.
    Damn, Reagan Rose Quinn was pretty. Sitting there in a little pink-checkered dress and sandals, her hair pulled back, and wearing a classy pair of shades. He wondered if she had any idea how beautiful she was.
    “Well, there’s my almost-brother,” Em said cheerfully. “Hey, you guys have fun doing...whatever. I’ve got to run.”
    “Where?” Reagan asked.
    She almost seemed a little nervous. Or maybe he was imagining it?
    “I’m meeting my fiancé for a tryst, thank you very much,” Emily answered. “The details I shall forever keep secret.”
    Love for his brother Matt shot out of every single pore Emily Quinn had, that was for sure. “Lucky guy, lucky guy,” he replied. “I’ll just steal your sister then.”
    “Be my guest!” Emily exclaimed.
    “Hello, I exist,” Reagan muttered.
    Eric had to laugh. “Come on,” he said, and grasped her elbow.
    “Ooh, I wouldn’t do that,” Em advised. “She likes to do it herself.”
    Reagan shook her head and rose from her seat. “Bye, Em.”
    Eric shrugged at Emily, who gave him a grin and turned to leave. “Bye, guys.”
    Eric leaned closer, so that only Reagan could hear his words. “I know you can manage by yourself, Miss Independent,” he said in a low voice. “But I like having a reason to stand close and drag you along.”
    Reagan then smiled, and allowed his help. “Wow. That is truly a chivalrous thing to say. Nice.”
    “Thought you’d like that,” he countered. “As much