all the facts before he made a move.
Slipping his phone out of his pocket, he punched in the number for the Wind Chime Café on Heron Island. He had a feeling he knew exactly who might be able to help him.
A familiar female voice answered after a few rings. “Wind Chime Café, this is Della.”
“Hi, Della. It’s Colin.”
“Hi, Colin,” Della said over the noise in the background—muffled voices, the clatter of coffee cups, the hiss of an espresso machine. “Do you want to talk to Annie?”
Colin paused at a crosswalk with several other pedestrians, waiting for the traffic light to change. He had briefly considered asking Annie about Becca. The two women had become good friends since Annie had moved to the island last fall. But Annie didn’t have history there. She might not know much about Becca and Tom’s past.
Della, on the other hand, was from Heron Island. She had been around the whole time Becca and Tom were growing up. “Actually, I want to talk to you.”
“Well,” Della said, adding a teasing note of importance into her voice. The kitchen door opened and closed with a distinctive squeak and the background noise from the dining room dimmed. “To what do I owe this honor?”
“I called to see if you have plans for dinner on Wednesday night.”
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“I’d like to take you out.”
“I’m flattered, Colin, but I’ve been happily married for over thirty-five years.”
Colin smiled, and some of the tension he’d been holding onto since his conversation with his mother the day before eased. “I know you’ve been wanting to try that new Italian restaurant that opened in St. Michaels a few weeks ago—the one across the street from the jewelry store. Name a time and I’ll meet you there.”
She let out a whistle. “That’s a fancy restaurant.”
“With an excellent chef, from what I hear. Maybe we can steal a few ideas for the café.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to butter me up for something?”
“I can’t imagine what you mean,” Colin said innocently.
Della laughed. “If you need a favor, hon, you can just ask. You don’t need to take me out to dinner first. Why don’t you drop by the café around closing time on Wednesday and we’ll talk then?”
“I’d rather take you out somewhere in St. Michaels.” The traffic light changed and he started across the street. “Somewhere…not on the island.”
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. “Because you don’t want anybody listening in?”
“Something like that.”
“I see,” Della said slowly and Colin heard the squeak of the oven door opening in the background, then the clatter of metal on wood as she set a tray of something that would probably make his mouth water on the counter. “I don’t suppose this has anything to do with why your truck was parked outside Becca’s house for over an hour last night?”
Colin faltered, almost missing the step up to the curb on the other side of the street. Della had noticed his truck outside Becca’s house last night?
He hadn’t thought twice about dropping by, but he’d forgotten that neighbors tended to be curious in small towns. And Heron Island was about as small as it got.
Becca had grown up on the island. She had friends there, family there—people who were watching out for her.
There were probably others who’d noticed his truck outside her house last night and wondered what he’d been doing there.
“Let’s just say I have a few questions,” he said.
“I’ll do my best to answer them,” Della said. “How about six o’clock?”
“I’ll see you then,” Colin said, and hung up.
The last thing he wanted was for Becca’s friends and neighbors to start asking questions, to scare her off before he’d had a chance to figure out his next step. If he was even going to think about moving in on another man’s territory this late in the game, he needed a plan, a solid one, one that wouldn’t
Slipping his phone out of his pocket, he punched in the number for the Wind Chime Café on Heron Island. He had a feeling he knew exactly who might be able to help him.
A familiar female voice answered after a few rings. “Wind Chime Café, this is Della.”
“Hi, Della. It’s Colin.”
“Hi, Colin,” Della said over the noise in the background—muffled voices, the clatter of coffee cups, the hiss of an espresso machine. “Do you want to talk to Annie?”
Colin paused at a crosswalk with several other pedestrians, waiting for the traffic light to change. He had briefly considered asking Annie about Becca. The two women had become good friends since Annie had moved to the island last fall. But Annie didn’t have history there. She might not know much about Becca and Tom’s past.
Della, on the other hand, was from Heron Island. She had been around the whole time Becca and Tom were growing up. “Actually, I want to talk to you.”
“Well,” Della said, adding a teasing note of importance into her voice. The kitchen door opened and closed with a distinctive squeak and the background noise from the dining room dimmed. “To what do I owe this honor?”
“I called to see if you have plans for dinner on Wednesday night.”
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“I’d like to take you out.”
“I’m flattered, Colin, but I’ve been happily married for over thirty-five years.”
Colin smiled, and some of the tension he’d been holding onto since his conversation with his mother the day before eased. “I know you’ve been wanting to try that new Italian restaurant that opened in St. Michaels a few weeks ago—the one across the street from the jewelry store. Name a time and I’ll meet you there.”
She let out a whistle. “That’s a fancy restaurant.”
“With an excellent chef, from what I hear. Maybe we can steal a few ideas for the café.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to butter me up for something?”
“I can’t imagine what you mean,” Colin said innocently.
Della laughed. “If you need a favor, hon, you can just ask. You don’t need to take me out to dinner first. Why don’t you drop by the café around closing time on Wednesday and we’ll talk then?”
“I’d rather take you out somewhere in St. Michaels.” The traffic light changed and he started across the street. “Somewhere…not on the island.”
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. “Because you don’t want anybody listening in?”
“Something like that.”
“I see,” Della said slowly and Colin heard the squeak of the oven door opening in the background, then the clatter of metal on wood as she set a tray of something that would probably make his mouth water on the counter. “I don’t suppose this has anything to do with why your truck was parked outside Becca’s house for over an hour last night?”
Colin faltered, almost missing the step up to the curb on the other side of the street. Della had noticed his truck outside Becca’s house last night?
He hadn’t thought twice about dropping by, but he’d forgotten that neighbors tended to be curious in small towns. And Heron Island was about as small as it got.
Becca had grown up on the island. She had friends there, family there—people who were watching out for her.
There were probably others who’d noticed his truck outside her house last night and wondered what he’d been doing there.
“Let’s just say I have a few questions,” he said.
“I’ll do my best to answer them,” Della said. “How about six o’clock?”
“I’ll see you then,” Colin said, and hung up.
The last thing he wanted was for Becca’s friends and neighbors to start asking questions, to scare her off before he’d had a chance to figure out his next step. If he was even going to think about moving in on another man’s territory this late in the game, he needed a plan, a solid one, one that wouldn’t
Similar Books
