Page 29 of Echoes at Driftwood Cottage

“And? That won’t be a problem,” Daniel replied, driving into the garage and cutting the engine. He skirted the hood to open her door. “You forget, I know what it’s like beginning a new chapter. This ice cream thing was a scary proposition when I took it on. Do you think I dreamed as a kid of becoming the ice cream man?”

For the first time in hours, she tittered with laughter. “No. But I think you’ve found your niche. The ice cream man cometh. You’re much happier working for yourself than the dead-end career you had managing software releases for some tech billionaire.”

“And? I know there’s a point you’re trying to make but I must be missing it.”

Grabbing her bag from the back seat, she followed him into the mudroom, where she stopped to take off her jacket and hang it up on the peg by the door. “All I’m saying is that the next few weeks might get emotional for me. Or they could be extremely disappointing. In other words, I might be sky-high one minute or hit bottom the next, depending on what I discover about my Gran, my mother, or anyone else lurking out there on the fringes. In the grand scheme of things, you don’t really know me. I don’t know me. That’s the other half of scary, along with the uncertain job thing.”

He toted her bag into the kitchen and then tossed it on a chair. “So, you’re worried about something that hasn’t happened yet? I get it. We’ll take things as slow as you want to go. Just keep me in the loop when you’re on top of the world one minute and down the next.”

She trailed after him into the kitchen. “I can’t say I’m loving your sarcastic wit right now. It makes me sound like I’m bipolar, trying to cope with relentless mood swings. I’m not manic depressive, for God’s sake, I’m simply trying to tell you that the next few weeks might become a rollercoaster ride.”

She let out a grudging sigh as she cornered him at the counter. “How did my life go this far off the rails since yesterday? All I wanted was a fresh start in Gran’s old house. Was that too much to ask?”

Beginning to understand the depth of her fear, he took her hand and kissed the palm. “It’s okay to panic about all this hitting you at once. I’d panic, too. Why do you think I’m standing here trying to convince you that you don’t have to go this alone? All these questions you have right now will sort themselves out. It’ll take time and patience, but we’ll get to the truth. We just need to tackle one problem at a time, keeping in mind that none of this is your fault.”

She rested her forehead against his chin. “I’m not sure I can sleep.”

He cupped her face in his hand. “Try. Tomorrow’s a big day. First, we pick up a DNA test kit from that lab. The bank after that, then we see Brent Cody and lay all our cards on the table.”

She looked into his eyes. “Things could get complicated.”

“That’s okay. As long as we’re working toward fitting the pieces of the puzzle together, we’ll be fine.”

Chapter Seven

Daniel’s alarm went off at seven-ten and when he blinked awake, he found the other side of the bed empty. But she’d left him a note on her pillow.

Gone to pick up breakfast croissants. If you wake up before I get back, start the coffee, or just text me and I’ll grab cappuccinos.

She’d drawn a heart at the end.

He rolled over and picked up his phone, keyed in a text. Get the cappuccinos.

But after sending the message, he heard the mudroom door open and close. Curious, he got up, pulled on his boxers, and walked bare-chested out to the kitchen.

Rowan whistled at the sight, a sack in one hand and a tray of coffee in the other. “Be still my heart. I hope you don’t mind, but I borrowed the keys to your car. Nice ride, by the way. At first, I thought I’d walk home and grab my truck, but then I thought, why do that when yours is parked in the garage.”

She handed him a ten-ounce disposable cup with The Perky Pelican logo on the side. “Two shots of espresso with steamed milk. I didn’t get your text but decided to splurge anyway on the espressos. The barista promised it was a perfectly layered blend.”

“Paula Bretton,” he muttered, breathing in the intense aroma of the full-bodied Colombian brew.

Rowan nodded. “Sounds right. There was a hunky older guy helping her out, a musician who said he owned the T-shirt shop.”

“Malachi Rafferty.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” She leaned in to give him a peck on his cheek. “You look like you’re not awake yet. How’d you sleep? I’d let that coffee cool before gulping it down. One breakfast croissant has bacon, egg, and cheese, while the other has sausage. Take your pick. I have no preference.”

Still trying to determine if he liked this cheery, chatty side to her this early in the morning, Daniel grunted, “All I want is caffeine.”

She nudged him into a chair at the table. “Go for it. I’ll take the bacon then.”

Rowan took a seat to study him better. His brown hair was mussed up. His blue eyes were bleary from sleep. The stubble on his chin had a day’s head start. Not so perfect or upbeat after all, she decided and sent him her widest smile.

He unwrapped the sandwich and took a sip of coffee, watching her over the rim. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re adorable.” She waited until he took another sip of the hot liquid and leaned closer, her hand finding its way to his upper thigh. “You know,” she whispered, “we could always go back to bed. I’m sure we could find ways to keep ourselves occupied until the bank opens.”

The hot liquid stuck in his throat and began to burn. He started coughing.

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