chorus of whispers filled the room. Lyddie was glad for the solid wood against her hip. It compensated for the weakness in her knees.
He looked straight at her, but again the words were meant for the crowd. “This is prime waterfront property, Mrs. Brewster. I won’t have any trouble selling.” He fished in his pocket, tossed money on the counter. “I’ll stop by at closing time to discuss the details.”
He saluted her with his mug and took another long swallow before setting it on the counter with what looked like regret. Without another word, he skated out the door.
Silence filled the shop.
“Damn that boy.” Nadine’s words were soft but heartfelt.
“Ditto.” It was the only word Lyddie could manage. Too many thoughts vied for attention in her head, pushing her toward panic mode. The rumors were true. Could she buy? Would she get a new landlord? Was her rent going to jump? Would she have to move? Would he—
“He never was any good at math.” Nadine whisked the coins off the counter, shaking her head, and Lyddie finally clued in.
Not only had J. T. Delaney stolen her piece of mind and upset her business for the morning, but he’d also shorted her on the price of the coffee.
* * *
WELL, THAT HAD definitely not been one of his finer moments.
J.T. sauntered down Main Street that afternoon on his way back to River Joe’s, hoping no one could see that beneath the outer confidence, he was beating himself up. He kept a practiced, slightly patronizing smile in place as he observed the street, never once letting on that he was actually impressed with what he saw.
Last night he’d been so intent on searching out familiar landmarks that he hadn’t noticed the changes. How was that for irony? He had locked up his perception of the town just the way the town had frozen its opinion of him.
But today, after cursing himself for the way he’d behaved in the coffee shop, he could see the bigger picture. The Cove was still no crowded tourist hotspot, but it had grown and even thrived over the years. He remembered a sad downtown in which there were three empty storefronts for every one business clinging to life. Now there wasn’t an empty space to be seen. Pizza and doughnuts, T-shirts and antiques, even a natural food and vitamin shop—all seemed to be bustling between the standard grocery, post office and hardware store.
No wonder Lydia Brewster got that deer-in-the-headlights look when he said he was selling. There was no place for her to go.
The load of guilt on his shoulders got a little heavier—again—at the memory. She hadn’t deserved to get drawn into his give-’em-what-they’re-expecting joyride. She hadn’t done anything to him, and he had no right to assume she would condemn him like the rest of the town. He couldn’t let himself get ticked off at the way he’d been treated and then turn around and do the same thing to someone else.
Even at his worst, he’d never been heartless—yet he had a lousy feeling that he’d been exactly that this morning.
It hadn’t helped that when he walked in and recognized her as his mystery woman, his first thought was of the way she’d looked when she stretched the night before—long and curvy and inviting. That had knocked his carefully prepared words flat out of his mind. By the time he realized what he was saying, he’d already messed up.
It was all he could do to keep a determined spring in his step as he pulled open the door to River Joe’s, setting bells tinkling. He hoped to God he could get everything sold quickly. The kick he’d got from resurrecting his long-ago persona was fading fast.
“Hello?” He peered around the deserted dining room. No signs of life. Chairs were neatly upended on round tables, the counter was empty, lights dim. If it hadn’t been for the unlocked door he’d have thought she stood him up.
He was about to make tracks for the kitchen when that door flew open. Out marched Nadine Krupnick. He recognized the scowl on her face. He’d seen it enough times back in school, when she was the lunch lady and he was the idiot who’d just yelled, “Food fight!”
“Afternoon,” he said cautiously, turning so she couldn’t get between him and the exit.
“Afternoon? Ha. More like, high time someone talked straight to you, Mister Delaney.”
The bitter twist to her words told him precisely where Nadine’s loyalties rested. Before he could muster up an apology, Nadine was in his face, bobbing like a pissed-off bantam hen. The fact that he stood a good eight inches over her did nothing to dispel the feeling he’d just come between a mother bear and her cub.
“Listen here, J.T.” She poked his chest. Hard. “Up until about nine o’clock this morning, I was ready and willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Then I heard what you’re doing. From your own lips, no less. And all I can say is, if you take this place away from that girl, then you might as well turn yourself in to the police right now, because you’ll be killing her just the same as that nutcase killed her husband.”
She finished her words with another jab that barely avoided being a punch. It took all his effort to keep breathing in a seminormal manner.
“You been working out, Mrs. Krupnick? I don’t remember you having such a mean right hook back in school.”
“That’s because you still had some brains back then. And a heart. Now it seems you’ve got a rock in your chest. And as for what’s filling your head instead of brains, well—”
“Nadine.”
Lydia leaned against the counter the way she had earlier that day, but this time she seemed almost relaxed. Even with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, she seemed more amused than worried. Maybe it was the smile tugging at her lips. He’d spied it this morning, briefly, before Nadine had obviously told her who he was. He hadn’t realized how much he’d wanted to see her smile again.
Too bad it was currently directed at Nadine, not him. When she glanced in his direction she frosted over. Wariness replaced the amusement that had encompassed her just a second earlier.
I did that. His shoulders sagged.
“Kick him out, Lyddie. Don’t talk to him until you call your lawyer.”
But Lydia shook her head. “It’s his building, Nadine. Besides, I’m certain Mr. Delaney and I can come to some reasonable agreement.”
Nadine muttered something under her breath. He wasn’t positive, but he was pretty sure that back in school, if she’d ever caught him saying what he thought she’d just said, he would have been carving yet another notch in his favorite chair in the principal’s office.
“Absolutely.” He ducked his head, stepped back and opened the door with a show of politeness. Nadine flounced through the opening, looking from him to the river behind them so pointedly that he would have to be an idiot to miss her meaning.
He allowed himself one lungful of the coolness coming off the water before turning back. Lydia stood by the set of love seats that flanked a coffee table at the fireplace end of the room.
“No Rollerblades this afternoon?”
He glanced at his sandals. “This is a business meeting. I thought I’d go formal.”
