Page 5 of Echoes at Driftwood Cottage

“Nope. More like a compact that’s easy to park, something small that’s good on gas mileage. None of those monster SUVs that don’t fit into a normal parking space.”

“Brad will hook you up when you’re ready. Do you plan to work from here? Logan said you were considering renting space at the warehouse where he and Kinsey have their offices.”

“The short answer is, I don’t know yet.” She glanced around the kitchen. “This is the only room I focused on after Gran died. And it was Logan who suggested I start with the kitchen and work on re-doing one room at a time. It’s amazing what new appliances and a couple coats of new paint on the cabinets did for Gran’s favorite room of the house. I think, even then, I knew I’d end up living here.”

Daniel’s lips curved up slightly. “I thought you planned to turn it into an Airbnb.”

Rowan made a face. “Don’t remind me. I can’t believe I ever thought of letting strangers come and go here. I have a lot of cleaning to do that I’ve put off for too long. The rest of the house is a mess.”

He polished off the tuna fish sub, wadded up the wrapper, and dropped it into the bag. “Maybe you should think about calling ityourplace now. Driftwood Cottage has been yours for a year. And it has that cute little wooden sign next to the front door with its cute little fishes.”

“Do I detect a hint of mockery in your voice?” Rowan tossed back. “Granddad carved that sign himself. Remind me again what you call your house.”

Daniel frowned and held up his bottle of water in a salute. “Point taken. There was this fleeting moment when I wanted to call it ‘Weed City.’ But then the reference might get misinterpreted. Whereas I’d be referring to the crabgrass, dandelions, and chickweed that took over the front yard, the neighbors might see it as a marijuana den.”

“Weed City? Not a good visual,” Rowan said with a laugh. “I remember that profound sense of humor. I’m pretty sure that’s why I slept with you last Christmas when I was here.”

Daniel’s lips curved again. “I thought it was because of my intrinsic charm.”

Rowan leaned forward, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, that’s definitely part of it. She took a slow sip from her water bottle, her eyes never leaving Daniel’s. “But you know what they say, a sense of humor is just foreplay for the brain.”

Daniel chuckled and set his water bottle down. “I’ve also been called a cunning linguist.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. But when Rowan didn’t seem to get the joke, he added, “It’s a play on words—clever with language—and other things.”

Her somber face completely changed when she burst out laughing. “Of course it is. Had you going there for a minute, didn’t I?”

“There’s that playful side that drew me in originally. Your moody artistic temperament aside.”

“What moody artistic temperament? I’m a passive, creatively even-tempered person,” she drawled, leaning closer, “You’re not the only one with witty banter. In fact, I’ve been thinking about a plaque for your front door. I can see it now.” Rowan sent him a wicked grin. “Dan’s Love Shack. Fitting, right?”

“Weed City to Love Shack?” Daniel scrunched up his face. “Nobody’s called me Dan since middle school.”

Rowan shrugged. “Hey, it’s catchy. And appropriate. For all I know, you could be the Don Juan of Pelican Pointe, Danny Boy.”

“That’s not me. I haven’t been Danny since fourth grade. And it’s not catchy at all, more like cheesy. Consider what the neighbors would say. I can see Mrs. Scudder from next door now drawing up a petition and calling on the mayor to have me run out of town.”

“Resident lothario be gone, huh? Okay, fine. How about something simpler and boring like Daniel’s Nest?”

His face contorted into a twisted scowl. “That sounds pathetic. And you call yourself creative.”

“All kidding aside, I was really down last Christmas Eve. I had a lot on my plate. I wasn’t sure what to do with Gran’s place. Or what to do about my crappy job. I was kicking all that around when I walked into the bar that night. I wasn’t there five minutes before you were hitting on me.”

“That’s not the way I remember it. You sulked at the next table for at least an hour before I asked you to join me out of pure pity.”

Rowan threw back her head and laughed. “There is that. At least we both knew what we were doing at the time. We can’t even blame alcohol on our three-day sexual liaison. I only had two glasses of wine. And you had that weird rum drink. Although, I have no clue exactly how many you’d had before I arrived. You could’ve been drunker than Otis Campbell.”

“Who’s Otis Campbell?”

“Come on, Mayberry, drunk Otis Campbell. I watched a lot of reruns with Gran.”

“Ah. That’s not very flattering. For the record, my drink of choice is a classy daiquiri without the sugary liqueur.”

“Ah, yes. How could I forget the lecture you gave me that night? I remember that part was a little weird, maybe freaky.”

“Me? Weird? But I’m not the one trying to make excuses for my choices. The sex happened. I’d call it instant attraction. Thinking back, we both needed a friend that night.”

Rowan nodded in agreement. “A shoulder to lean on. That works for me. You offered to show me around town. Remember?”

“And I did. I showed you my bedroom.”

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