Dogwood Hill. Sherryl Woods

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Dogwood Hill - Sherryl Woods MIRA

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tired of his own company, he went downstairs to Sally’s to grab a sandwich for lunch, but the café, too, was jammed. Sally signaled to him that a booth in back was about to open up, then led the way there even before the dishes could be cleared.

      “I’ll get back to you in a few minutes. Anything I can bring you to drink when I come?” she asked, her expression harried.

      “Iced tea would be great,” he said.

      “Sweetened?”

      Aidan had forgotten that most people around here preferred it that way. “Unsweetened, if you have it.”

      “Of course we do,” she said. “Hang in here. I’ll get back to you when I can. Haven’t had a day like this in months, so I’m not complaining.”

      “Take your time,” Aidan told her. “I’m in no hurry.”

      When she finally made her way back to him, she dropped down wearily on the seat opposite him. “Two minutes off my feet, that’s all I ask.”

      He grinned. “Are you suggesting I should take my time ordering, maybe discuss the specials?”

      “Smart man,” she said approvingly. “I recommend you order the crab cake sandwich with coleslaw and fries before we run out, but could you please ponder that for a few minutes?”

      He laughed. “You got it.”

      She studied him for a minute, then asked slyly, “Have you dropped in on Liz today?”

      The question probably should have surprised him, but he’d already grown used to how fast news of relationships—real or perceived—rocketed through town. “No, why? I imagine she’s as swamped as you are.”

      “Exactly. And since she’s never been through a holiday crush before, I imagine she didn’t think to bring her lunch. How about I fix her one of those crab cake sandwiches, too, and you can take it by when you leave. I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”

      Aidan nodded at once, probably a little too eagerly if the satisfied expression on Sally’s face was anything to go by. “I can definitely do that,” he responded.

      Sally chuckled, her expression smug. “Thought you might grab the chance. I had to see for myself if the rumors were true.”

      “What rumors are those?” he asked, though it didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

      She gave him a pitying look as she stood up. “Oh, please. Don’t try that innocent act on me. I’ve been around too long. I’ll get right on those specials. You can take your order next door while you’re at it and vacate this booth so I can cram in more customers—how’s that?”

      “Sounds like a plan,” Aidan said. “I’ll wait for you at the register.”

      She patted him on the shoulder. “Good boy. I like a man who can take a hint.”

      Maybe what she really liked, Aidan thought as he headed to the register, was a man so easily swayed into going along with her devious plans. He was beginning to see what Liz had been trying to tell him about Chesapeake Shores being a haven for well-meaning matchmakers. For the moment, though, that suited him just fine. Sally had just shoved him in a direction he’d been wanting to go all day without being willing to admit it.

      * * *

      Liz was trying valiantly to keep her cool as she rang up sales, answered questions and tried to guide people toward merchandise. She’d always considered herself to be decent at multitasking. With a roomful of elementary school students, she hadn’t had much choice. They, however, could be ordered into a time-out when she started to feel overwhelmed. The customers and the unruly wave of questions just kept coming. She had no choice but to keep smiling and cope.

      Not that she wasn’t grateful. Today was going exactly as she’d hoped it might. She’d just had no idea how exhausting success might feel a few hours into it. Her cheeks actually ached from keeping that smile in place.

      To top it off, she was starving. She hadn’t thought to bring so much as an apple with her today. Until now, she’d always had time to at least call in an order to Sally’s, then run over to pick it up. Not that she would have had two seconds to eat something today, unless it could be consumed through a straw while she was ringing up sales and putting things into uncooperative plastic bags that seemed deliberately impossible to open. She barely had time to look up and make eye contact with the customers.

      “Did you find everything?” she asked automatically, even as she handed off two bags to the previous customer.

      “I was looking for the owner,” a male voice announced.

      Her head snapped up. “Aidan! What are you doing here?”

      He held up a bag. “Sally thought you might be hungry. Judging from the chaos in here, I’m guessing she nailed it.”

      “You have no idea,” she said, eyeing the bag with longing. “What’s in there?”

      “A crab cake sandwich and coleslaw. French fries, too. I’ve been here a few minutes, but it should still be warm.”

      She closed her eyes and imagined it. Chunks of lump crabmeat seasoned perfectly and lightly fried with creamy coleslaw on top. Crispy french fries. She nearly moaned with pleasure.

      “It sounds heavenly,” she murmured.

      “I can attest to that. I slipped into your back room and took a couple of bites of mine, hoping the crowd out here might thin out any minute, but it seems pretty steady.”

      “It has been all day,” she said wearily, then grinned. “It’s exhausting, but absolutely wonderful, even better than I expected.”

      “How about this? I’ll take over at the register long enough for you to go in back and eat something. I left an iced tea back there for you, too. Sweet with lemon. Sally said that’s how you like it.”

      She eyed the bag with real regret. “It is, but I can’t possibly take a break.”

      He lifted a brow. “Are you worried I’ll take off with your cash?”

      “Of course not. But you don’t know the system.”

      “Is everything priced?”

      “Of course.”

      “And it has a bar code?”

      “Sure.”

      “And the register calculates the sales tax?”

      Liz nodded.

      “Then go. If I run into a problem, I’ll come and get you.”

      Still she fretted. “Can you do a credit card sale?”

      “I earned my spending money for college by working at Bloomingdale’s during the holidays.” He glanced around the store. As busy as it was, it hardly qualified as a holiday madhouse in New York. “I think I can handle this.”

      Before Liz could think about what she

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