Not.
“Okay,” Kat conceded, “he’s a fare. So are you flying him?”
“I haven’t decided. It’s a big responsibility getting someone to work every day.”
“Oh, heck,” Kat scoffed. “Take the guy. If after a week he’s too much of a hassle, tell him to go with Lucien.”
Lee sighed. Her sister had a point. She was making far too much of all this. And just because Matteo had kind eyes.
Like Oliver’s.
Oliver. Best friend turned lover weeks ago, while on a six-week furlough from Iraq. Before he returned to war. Before he was killed by sniper fire.
For three years after her divorce, Lee had avoided relationships; tamped down the remotest inclination toward desire. Then Oliver Duvall had returned to Firewood Island, and she’d never been so glad to see her childhood friend. When she thought of his death…
How could she look at Rogan Matteo with Oliver not barely gone two months? Rogan Matteo with his quiet eyes.
Was it any wonder he appealed to her? The Southern accent molding his words, or the way he looked at his little boy had nothing to do with her…lust. It was those slate-gray eyes, reminders of a friend who was no more.
“All right,” she said. “I’ll tell him my plans if he shows up on my dock again.”
“Why not tell him now? Didn’t we just see him through the kitchen window, sitting on the cabin porch, looking at the stars? Go knock on his door.”
Lee stared at her sister. “Are you crazy? It’s the middle of the night.”
Kat raised a brow. “It’s ten after nine.”
“You are crazy.”
“Honey, I’m not blind. The guy is handsome…in a rough-edged sort of way. If he makes your fingers itch, go talk to him. You know you want to.” She grinned. “Look, what’s he going to do? Say hi?”
“It’ll seem like I’m chasing him.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Do you want the damn fare or not?”
“Fine.” Before she could change her mind, Lee set down her cup, got up and walked out the back door. The way her stomach roiled, a breath of cold air would do her good.
Stepping onto the back deck, she realized she should’ve grabbed her coat; the night chill crept under her lightweight sweater, goose-bumping her skin. Above, stars cluttered the sky, magnifying its vastness and if she had a moment she’d seek out the Big and Little Dippers, as always. But Rogan had spotted her and was likely wondering about her intentions.
Now or never, Lee.
Starting across Kat’s backyard toward the cabin’s path in the woods, she watched him rise from the wicker chair and come to the edge of the steps in anticipation of her arrival.
He hadn’t turned on his outside light and so stood in the dark, looming above her. Around them, night breezes whispered through the trees, bearing the tang of sea salt.
“It’s Lee Tait,” she said, hugging her arms around her stomach against the night’s chill. Against him.
“Hello, Lee.”
God, how could her name sound that husky?
“I was visiting my sister and figured I should let you know that flying you to Renton won’t be a problem. But before you go jumping up and down with glee, I’ll be frank. This is a three-day tryout, Mr. Matteo. After that we’ll see where we’re at.”
A punch of silence, then a low chuckle. “You don’t beat around the bush, do you, Captain Tait? I like that.”
“Good. We understand each other.”
“We do.”
“Fine. I’ll see you later.”
Before she could turn back down the path, he asked, “Ms. O’Brien is your sister?”
“For thirty-four years. Argh—” Lee massaged the spot between her eyes. “She’ll kill me if you reveal that detail.”
“I’ll be sure to tape my mouth shut.” Again, she heard a note of humor as he glanced toward the Victorian. And abruptly, a thought hit. Maybe she’d read him wrong. Maybe it wasn’t her he was interested in, but Kat.
And why not? a voice whispered. Of the three sisters, Kat was the nurturer, the earth mother. The intermediary Lee and Addie always came to for advice when life’s inroads got rough.
“Just for the record,” Lee pointed out. “Kat doesn’t gossip. Nor would she have convinced me to bother you tonight—” Now, why tell him that, Lee? “—except I bugged her with some questions.” Oh, great word choice.
“About me?” His voice lowered to Vin Diesel deepness.
“For insurance purposes.”
“That standard for all your passengers?”
He had her there. “Look,” she said, trembling from the cool breeze. “I’ll be honest. Your—”
“You’re cold,” he interrupted, coming down the steps, shrugging from his vest. “Why don’t you come inside for a minute?”
Go inside that little cabin? Where his big frame would swallow every molecule of air? Where she’d wander close enough to smell the soap on his skin? No thanks.
Before Lee could think it through, he’d wrapped the vest, infused with his warmth and scent, around her shoulders.
“I’m fine,” she said, back-stepping so they weren’t so close, so she couldn’t feel his breath on her forehead. “Besides, I need to get back to my sister.”
He dropped his hands from the panels of the vest where he’d pulled them closed over her breasts. “I don’t bite, Lee,” he said softly.
“Maybe not,” she replied, hoping to inject some clout into her tone because she wanted nothing more than to grab his face between her hands. “But you have to admit, your nightly vigil down at the docks was downright spooky. What was I to think? No, let me rephrase that. What were you thinking? A man with your obvious intelligence and a lawyer to boot should know better than to stand there staring at a woman three nights in a row, especially when she’s by herself.”
Huffing a breath, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “My apologies. You’re right. I wasn’t thinking. All that mattered, still matters, is my son, Ms. Tait. He’s my first priority. Everything else falls by the wayside.”
“Well.” Her irritation faded upon his reference to the child. “At least we have that cleared up.” She hesitated. “I understand you bought Eve Riley’s old farm and that you’re renovating the house.” Kat had let that tidbit drop at dinner.
“I did and am.” He smiled, a flash of white in the dark. “This for
