Izzy stood. “Look, if this guy is looking for someone, there’s not a lot you can do about it. Leave him be. If, on the other hand, you like him, why don’t you drop by the Coast tonight and talk to him? Maybe he’ll tell you more about the reason he’s here. But if this is another one of your lost soul missions, Kate, you need to steer clear. I get the impression he spooked you. Maybe it’s better you leave him alone.”
“Spooked me?” Kate laughed, ignoring the pang of truth she felt at Izzy’s words. “Since when has anyone spooked me? Let alone a long-haired, teeth-flashing, blue-eyed, incredibly tall...man.”
Izzy raised her eyebrows. “Are you forgetting who you’re talking to? What about Dean?”
“What about him?”
“He hurt you. Badly. Maybe this Mac guy spooked you because he reminds you of Dean.”
“He’s nothing like Dean.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Kate opened her mouth, but no words came out. Instead, a hundred comparisons between Mac and her ex flickered through her mind. She swallowed. “Okay, fine. You’ve nothing to worry about because Mac doesn’t seem at all interested in hooking up with a woman. He practically sneered at everything I had to say, and he was by no means impressed with Vanessa’s teasing.”
“Then the man must be an ass. Which is exactly what I thought about Dean when I first met him.”
“That’s not fair.” Kate whirled away and strode toward the painting Izzy had been staring at when Kate came into the studio. Her friend had hit on the nerve that had been the cause of the most fitful night Kate had suffered in months. Mac did have the same dark hair and broodiness about him as her filthy, cheating ex. Yet, there was something different about Mac. Something she wanted to explore.
Needing to change the subject and simultaneously lash out, she chose a new target. “Jay Garrett has really bad taste.”
“You think?”
“Well, not in gallery managers, obviously.” She flashed Izzy a smile over her shoulder. “But in paintings, yes.”
Izzy came to stand beside her and draped her arm around Kate’s shoulders. “Why don’t we talk about my wedding instead? Maybe that will take your mind off Mac Orman.”
“How are the plans going? Is there anything you want my help with?”
“Not right now, but you could come over later and help me drink a fine bottle of Chablis.”
Kate grinned. “Absolutely. Look, I’d better go, but I’ll come by your place around seven.”
“Perfect.” Izzy walked Kate to the front door. “So, what are you going to do about Mac?”
“I don’t know. Yet. But you’re right. I can’t afford to get mixed up with a bad boy again.”
“Dean was a long time ago. You can’t let one bad relationship put you off the type of guys you’re attracted to forever.”
“I’m not attracted...it’s just that for a fleeting moment he seemed genuinely respectful of what I do for work. I liked that. My gut is telling me somewhere behind that angry exterior is a decent bloke.” She crossed her arms. “Maybe I could help him.”
“Kate...”
“What? All I’m saying is, if I can stop him going in all guns blazing, I will. I know what it feels like to be backed into a corner. Mac seemed ultra-tense. Like he’s got no real idea how to speak with this person when he finds them. It was...weird.”
“Weird? Or just something you couldn’t immediately solve?”
Kate sighed. “Both. I’d better go.”
“Okay. See you later.”
Kate left the gallery and made her way along the high street toward the Teenage Support office, buttoning her coat against the late winter chill. Her head bent low, she wondered when it would ever feel like summer again in Templeton.
What she needed was a hot cappuccino and one of Marian’s breakfast rolls. A guaranteed diversion from Mac. She pushed him to the back of her mind and forced her focus on the day ahead.
Deserving and desperate kids and their families needed her full concentration and dedication. Maybe Izzy was right and Kate should butt out of Mac’s life. What drove her to reach out to people was her work with those who had been bullied—and experiences she had with her mother. Mac was a big boy who most likely knew exactly what he was doing.
Feeling more positive, Kate pushed open the door of the bakery and shook out her curls, already turning to frizz, thanks to the cold sea air. When she looked up, her eyes were drawn toward one of the booths. Mac Orman sat with some papers in front of him as he stared toward the counter, his eyes narrowed.
What looked to be a half-eaten breakfast had been pushed to the side. He turned his focus to the open notebook in front of him and scribbled something on the page, his expression grim with stony concentration.
Kate’s suspicions rocketed. Was whoever he was looking for in the bakery right now? Was he writing down their actions or day-to-day business for some reason? Was he stalking someone? She looked around. Nobody seemed to be taking any notice of Mac and his notebook. She took her time hanging her jacket on the old-fashioned coat stand as she furtively watched him.
There it was again. He looked at Ella behind the counter and made a note. Then he looked at an older woman Kate didn’t recognize. Made another note. What was he up to?
Mac glanced toward her and flinched. Aha! She lifted her chin. Caught red-handed. Whatever he was writing certainly wasn’t innocent. She straightened her spine and walked toward him as he quickly shut his notebook and slipped it on to the seat beside him.
* * *
MAC FORCED A slow smile and tried his best not to be distracted by the sexy, disheveled sight of Kate Harrington. Her deep, dark eyes were almost hypnotic, but he’d have to be half-blind not to notice the concern in her gaze when she’d questioned him last night. She seemed nice, sweet...and all sorts of sexy mixed in. Another time, another place, he might have been interested.
But not here. Not now.
He needed Kate to keep her nose out of his business. To let his cold façade slip would risk his pursuit of the elusive Marian Ball.
Judging by the suspicion in Kate’s gaze as she marched toward him, she’d seen him checking out the locals. She glanced toward the counter and back again, annoyance etched on her pretty face. Her shoulders lifted as though she were bracing herself before she dropped them and stood right beside him.
Here goes...
He stood in the hope she wouldn’t sit. “Morning.”
She stared. Her eyes assessing, judging.
He raised his eyebrows. “Getting breakfast?”
“And coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.” She eyed him carefully. “You?”
