probably they were trading oxygen and carbon monoxide all night long. That could do a number on her if she thought about it too long.
So she wouldn’t think about it, and no way was friendship a possibility. Men and women couldn’t be friends. More often than not, it went bad. She didn’t need any more bad in her life than she’d already had.
Chapter Three
It was Saturday and Adam didn’t know what to do with his first real weekend off since moving to Blackwater Lake. He wandered around the apartment that grew on him more every day. The boxes were gone, stuff was put away and pictures were hung. They weren’t as soul-stunning as Jill’s, but he planned to take his own photos and get some shots that were wall-worthy.
His computer was hooked up and on the desk in the second bedroom he was using as a home office. Medical books and a few fiction paperbacks were stacked on the floor, and he could use some bookcases. A trip to the antiques and furniture stores in town could fill some time today.
Then he looked out the living room window with a view of the lake. There was a small wooden building nearby with a sign that read Blackwater Lake Marina and Bait Shop. It was about time he explored his new hometown, starting with what was right in his own backyard.
He grabbed his keys, locked the front door, then jogged down the stairs to the covered porch. Beside Jill’s door sat a pair of C.J.-sized muddy sneakers and a small baseball mitt. Just a guess but both probably belonged to the little guy who lived downstairs. Thoughts of the redheaded rascal made him smile and he wondered what the kid was up to on a day off from school. Hopefully hanging out with Tyler Dixon on the ranch where a kid could be a kid. Adam wouldn’t trade his time there for anything. And what C.J. did was none of his business since his redheaded, red-hot mom had warned him off.
He walked down the path and turned right, heading for the marina store. A few minutes later he stepped onto the wooden walkway outside. A few yards from the door, the dock jutted into the lake, a small number of boats tied up on either side.
He entered the store and waited for his eyes to adjust from the bright sunshine outside. Bending over a box, Jill had her back to the door and was restocking the tall, refrigerated case with bottled water. Before she straightened he had time to look his fill and conclude that she did have one terrific tush.
And that kind of thinking was to his goal what the iceberg was to the Titanic. To win over the people of Blackwater Lake, he had to be her friend, nothing more.
“Mom?” That was C.J.’s voice.
Adam moved a step farther inside and saw the kid. Racks of souvenir T-shirts had hidden him, sitting cross-legged on the floor beside the cold case. His elbows were resting on his knees, and his small, freckled face was cradled in both hands. If he was a photo, Adam would title it Boredom.
“Mom,” he said again, louder this time.
“What, kiddo?”
“Why can’t I go outside?”
“Because you’re not allowed to play by the lake when there’s no one to watch you. That’s the rule.”
“It’s a stupid rule. I know how to swim.”
“True. But better safe than sorry,” she said.
“I’m already sorry because I can’t go outside.”
Adam smothered a laugh. This kid was priceless.
“I wanna go to Ty’s house,” he said, taking a new direction.
“We’ve been through this already. I have to mind the store, so I can’t drive you.”
“I could call Ty. I bet Mr. Dixon could come and get me, Mom.”
“He’s busy running his ranch. You shouldn’t bother him,” she said.
“When’s Brew coming back?”
“A couple of hours.”
The kid let out a big sigh. “I don’t got nothin’ to do for a couple hours.”
“I don’t have anything to do,” she corrected.
“Then you can drive me to Ty’s.”
Adam cleared his throat to cover a laugh and let them know he was standing there. “Hi.”
“Dr. Adam!” C.J. jumped up and ran over.
“Hi, champ.” He made a fist and the kid did the same and bumped it. Looking at Jill, he said, “Good morning.”
“How are you?” She brushed the curly red hair off her forehead.
“Good. Enjoying a day off.”
“Must be nice,” she said wistfully.
“It is.”
He saw the dark circles under her eyes and asked, “Is there any place in town you don’t work?”
She laughed, which was a nice surprise. “Potter’s Parlor was for Maggie, but this store is mine.”
“Interesting place,” he said, glancing around.
Fishing poles were standing along one wooden wall, and above them was a divided case with lures, sinkers and bait. Another wall had cubbyholes holding hats, and beside it were stacks of ice chests. In the center space were racks of outdoor clothing—quilted vests, flannel shirts, windbreakers and light jackets.
“Brewster works for me, so I take over when he’s off.”
“Who takes over when you’re off?”
“It’s not an issue.”
The subtext was that she never had time off. But there wasn’t any trace of self-pity in her tone or expression. All he saw was strength and pride. The combination made her stunning, the kind of woman he wanted to get to know better.
He started to say something but was interrupted by the sound of heavy footsteps on the wooden walkway outside just before three men came into the store. They were all about the same age, in their late fifties or early sixties.
Jill smiled. “Welcome to Blackwater Lake.”
Adam listened to the conversation and figured out that these guys were strangers to her, new to the area and looking for fishing gear. Jill led them to the wall with rods and reels, then began answering their questions regarding the pros and cons of each type and its relation to their skill level.
While she was preoccupied with customers and a potentially lucrative sale, her son slipped outside, unnoticed by anyone but Adam. He stood in the store’s doorway and saw C.J. race down to the lake’s edge, then bend to grab a rock and throw it into the water. So much for mom’s rule. And Jill was right to worry about safety around the water.
Adam walked down the path and stopped beside the boy. He picked up a smooth stone, then flicked his wrist and watched it skip three times before disappearing.
