Tidewater Lover by Janet Dailey Page B

and compassionate.
    "I don't know." Her gaze skittered away from his face.
    "I don't like the idea of your being alone. I could round up one of my friends and make a foursome," he suggested.
    "I'd be rotten company for anyone, but thanks. Besides I wouldn't want to cramp your style." She attempted a smile, but it wasn't very successful.
    "What are you going to do, Lacey? You can't just drive around all night."
    She hesitated before answering. "Maybe I'll stop by to see Maryann."
    Her statement seemed to satisfy Mike. "You do that. And drive carefully, will you, Lacey?"
    "I promise." As Mike straightened, Lacey shifted her car into gear.
    She checked for oncoming vehicles before pulling into the traffic lane, waving to Mike. Obeying the speed limits, she drove sensibly to the apartment complex where Maryann lived. She parked her car in the visitors' lot and walked up the steps to her friend's unit. Lacey rang the doorbell and waited.
    The door, still secured by a chain latch, opened a crack. Through the narrow opening, Lacey glimpsed the washed-out brown hair, that peculiar dark blond shade, so distinctively Maryann's.
    "Hi. It's me, Lacey," she identified herself to her cautious friend.
    "Lacey, what are you doing here?" The door closed a moment, then swung wide to admit her. "I thought you'd be having your own private little clambake on the beach tonight."
    "My own clambake, huh?" Lacey's smile was twisted. "And I came to see if you had a hot dog to share." As she walked in, she noticed that her girl friend was wearing a housecoat. Only then did it occur to her that it was Friday night and it was very likely her friend had a date. "I bet you're going out, aren't you?"
    "No, it's just another Friday night for me and my cat to spend together. I was just changing out of the clothes I wore to work when you rang the doorbell. Both of us will be glad to have you for dinner," Maryann insisted as a pumpkin-colored cat sauntered from the kitchen to rub against his mistress's leg. "I don't have any hot dogs, but I do have some hamburger."
    "That's fine." Lacey really didn't have any appetite.
    Maryann closed the door, locked it and refastened the chain. "You never did say what you're doing here. Did it get too lonely out there in your luxurious beach house?"
    "No, it wasn't lonely. Far from it," Lacey declared.
    "What do you mean?" Maryann frowned. "I thought you didn't have any close neighbors."
    "It's a long story," was the sighing answer.
    "I have all night if you do." Her friend shrugged away that excuse.
    "It isn't lonely because I'm not staying in the house by myself," announced Lacey.
    "You're not staying in the house alone." Maryann repeated the statement to be certain she had understood it. "That means someone is staying with you. Who?"
    "Cole Whitfield."
    "Who is Cole Whitfield?" Almost immediately a light dawned in her eyes. "Whitfield? You don't mean the sarcastic Mr. Whitfield?"
    "That is precisely the Cole Whitfield that I mean."
    Maryann's mouth opened in astonishment. For several seconds, she was incapable of getting any words to come out. Finally she managed to ask, "How? What is he doing there?"
    "It seems that Cole is an old family friend of Margo's husband. There was a mix-up. Margo asked me to stay at the house and her husband asked Cole."
    "But when you found out…"
    "It's all totally unbelievable, Maryann. I thought he was a burglar when he first walked into the house. He scared me out of my wits." Lacey went on to explain how she and Cole had come to the agreement to share the house.
    "And you actually agreed, after the things you said about him?" Maryann was incredulous.
    "In person, he really isn't so bad. What am I saying?" Lacey caught herself angrily. "He's worse. His alarm wakes me up in the morning. He sings in the shower. He works till all hours of the night, then is grouchy as an old bear."
    "Lacey—" Maryann gave her a long, considering look "—maybe you should tell me something about this Cole