looked at her over his shoulder, an odd expression blanketing his dark-haired features. “What’s this all about? You’re almost flustered. You don’t fluster.”
“No, I don’t,” Kendall snapped. “But what I don’t need is someone getting in my way up there. I work alone. It’s just how I do things. Can you just help me find Gil so I can explain... Hello.” She locked her lips into a tight line as Hunter MacBride pulled his bike to a stop beside Matt.
Kendall’s heart hammered against her chest as she did everything she could to avoid looking at Phoebe. Phoebe in her little jeans and jacket and cute little shoes and big brown eyes...
“Hello, neighbor.” Hunter unhooked his helmet and draped the band over his handlebars. “Fancy seeing you here. Phoebe and I are dying for some home cooking. Aren’t we, kiddo?” He reached back as Phoebe climbed off her bike and pushed it next to his. “Hi, there.” Hunter turned that million-watt smile on Matt and offered his hand. “Hunter MacBride. You’d be the sheriff?”
“Heaven forbid.” Matt actually shuddered and returned the greeting. “Deputy Matt Knight. Kendall and I go way back. She was just telling me about you.”
“Was she?” Hunter grinned.
Kendall’s stomach did a double tuck drop to her feet. She’d been so distracted by Phoebe earlier she hadn’t registered just how good-looking the man was. Not Hollywood handsome, but head-turning nonetheless. Dark brown hair, amber-specked brown eyes and a dimple in his chin that made her fingers itch to check how deep it went.
He was taller than she was, almost as tall as Matt, and his chest and shoulders were broad enough that she didn’t think Phoebe would feel anything other than safe and protected.
Phoebe. Kendall shifted uneasy eyes to the little girl, who was peeking out from behind her uncle, staring wide-eyed and cautiously at Matt.
“This is Phoebe,” Hunter introduced Matt to his niece. “I’m guessing you’re one of our go-to people if we’re ever in trouble.”
“Absolutely. Nice to meet you, Phoebe. Are you going to be here long?” He glanced at Kendall with an all-too-knowing smile on his face. Kendall recognized that expression. It was one he’d learned from his wife, who had developed a propensity for matchmaking now that she was submerged in happily-ever-after.
“A few months,” Hunter told him. “Depends how long it takes me to write the book on this place. Here, you need help with that?” He reached down and unhooked Phoebe’s helmet.
Kendall kept her eyes pinned on Matt as the little girl pulled her head free and shook out her curls.
Matt’s jaw locked, and Kendall ducked her head. But not before he saw the sorrow she was unable to hide. It was then she knew she wasn’t imagining things. He saw what she did.
Panic and dread piled like rocks in her chest. How was she going to survive this, them, for months?
“Well, aren’t you pretty,” Matt said after he cleared his throat. “I, um, need to get back to the station, but feel free to drop by anytime. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of questions about...”
“I have to go.” Kendall spun on her heel and headed away from them. It didn’t matter which direction she went. She didn’t care. She just needed to get away. From the man who made her think of the future that would never be hers.
“HOW BIG ARE your milkshakes?” Hunter asked the attentive, sandy-blond-headed waitress once they were seated at a booth. Phoebe had barely glanced at the menu before she’d scrambled onto her knees and looked over the back of the booth to where a group of kids had gathered at the end of the counter.
“Quite big. Big enough to split.” Their server, who wore a pink T-shirt, inclined her head toward Phoebe. The woman’s long ponytail fell over her shoulder as she flipped her pen in her hand, making the small diamond solitaire wedding set twinkle on her finger. “Or I can whip up a mini one just for her.”
Phoebe turned a big-eyed grin back at him, then up at their server.
“Would you like your own shake, sweetie?”
Phoebe nodded.
“Got it. So that’s two burgers, one mini. And two milkshakes. One mini.” She pointed to Phoebe. “Side order of onion rings and...a green salad.” She ticked off the items on her pad. “That do it?”
“And coffee, thanks.” Hunter handed the menus back. “Busy place.” Not overly crowded, but full enough he could tell it was a favorite go-to spot for locals and tourists alike. Not that this time of year was tourist season, but it should be given the beautiful weather. Gil had told him the town was slowly becoming a year-round go-to destination. He liked the throwback feel of the diner, from the black-and-white tile floor to the orange-and-black vinyl stools and booths, no doubt a decorating homage to the town’s namesake monarch butterfly.
Speaking of butterflies. They were everywhere, in every form, dangling from the ceiling of the diner, attached to the walls. Even perched perfectly on the edge of the windowsills. Children’s renderings, artist offerings and even a few scribbles on napkins.
“Saturdays have become nonstop. I’m Paige, by the way. Paige Bradley.”
“Hunter MacBride.” Hunter offered his hand and cast a quick glance at Phoebe. “This is my niece, Phoebe.”
“Nice to meet you both.” Paige looked over her shoulder to the group of surprisingly quiet kids. “My daughter Charlie’s somewhere in that pack. And that’s Simon with the glasses.” Paige shifted toward Phoebe and crouched down, pointing to each child as she referenced them. “There with the brown curls? That’s Marley O’Neill. And Stella Jones. She wears bells in her hair sometimes. She jingles when she walks. Would you like to meet them, Phoebe?”
Phoebe looked at Paige for a long moment before she shook her head and scooted back in the booth.
“Maybe another time.” If Paige was put off by Phoebe’s reluctance, she didn’t let on. She pushed to her feet. “You staying long or just passing through?”
“We’ll be here for a while,” Hunter said. “I’m writing a book on the lighthouse.”
“Oh, you’re the photojournalist we’ve heard about.” Paige seemed to bite the inside of her cheek. “Have you, um, been up there already?”
Sensing where this was headed, Hunter nodded. “We have. Just finished unloading the motor home.”
“Ah.” Paige nodded. “So that must mean you’ve met Kendall.”
“We have had the pleasure.” Questions flooded his mind about the odd, quiet, apparently easy to offend woman. Hazards of the job. He always had questions. But experience had taught him barreling in demanding answers was rarely the way to glean accurate and helpful information. “She seems nice.”
“She is,” Paige said with an apologetic shrug. “She’s just...”
“No
