Page 7 of To Have and to Scold

Should I even be out here with this woman? If I’m not careful, the locals might spread the word about that and then all of the sudden, I’ll start getting congratulatory cards in the mail and questions about when I’m going to get engaged again and sentiments that they hope this time sticks.

She turns, her glance flicking over me, a shy smile crossing her features.

I’m caught up in it for a second, in her elixir. The strait-laced clothes, her wavy auburn hair, her fair skin and pink mouth.

I know I should walk away. I should say, “Welcome to Willow Cove” and leave her on her merry way.

So then why can’t I?

Chapter Three

Beck

“Sorry again about the scare with the llama,” I say as we walk slowly in the sand. Maybe if we start walking back to the boardwalk, I’ll find it easier to leave once I reach my truck.

The woman with the russet hair laughs. “I’ve never been spat on by an animal before. I need a shower.”

“Did he get you in the face?”

“No, thankfully.” She frowns. “My arm. I had my sports jacket off at the time.” She shudders, her eyes flashing with horror.

I force thoughts of seeing her without the jacket on out of my head and instead drop my head back in laughter. “I’ve heard that Prince Harry spits on people he likes. He’s odd that way.”

I know plenty about odd animals. I love my golden retriever, but he’s so unlike any animal I’ve ever known.

“I should be flattered then,” she says.

I laugh again. “On behalf of everyone in Willow Cove, I apologize about Prince Harry. His owner recently passed away and the guy’s nephew, my friend King, took him in. Sometimes King gets busy at the bakery or the surf shop and the llama escapes the yard.” I realize I’m still staring at her, so I shift my gaze to look above her. “A few stars are out.”

She turns to look. “Oooh. Do you know their names?”

“No. I should,” I say. Why am I suddenly wishing I’d brushed up on my astronomy knowledge? “Maybe I’ll learn them.”

“For nights your equipment doesn’t come in and you can’t keep working, you workaholic.”

“Sounds like you’re the workaholic at some mysterious job you can’t tell me about.” I regard her carefully, slowing my walk so I can take her in. “Let me guess. You’re a professional sleeper?”

This woman is cute, almost sprightly. She has more energy in her baby toe than a wind turbine. But right now, she’s fixing me with a stare down that makes me squirm, especially with her razor sharp smile. “Are you calling me a…lady of the night?”

“What? No. A professionalsleeper. Someone hired by mattress companies to try out the beds. I could see why you wouldn’t want people to know about that.”

“That’s a thing?”

“Yeah. But since you thought I meant something else, I’m guessing you don’t do that.” I appraise her again, thinking hard.“You’re an odor judge, employed by deodorant companies to test their products.”

“Ha!” She laughs. “That would be my worst nightmare.”

She unbuttons her suit coat, moving the hem of it in and out to let in a breeze. It’s nice to see her relaxing a little.

“Just think of the greater good, though,” I insist. “You’d be helping to take care of BO, one sniff at a time. It’s noble, really.”

She laughs, stares past me, and her eyes widen. She shivers.

“Are you cold?”

“I’m in North Carolina. In a sports coat. Of course I’m not cold.”

We look at the sky again, and the silence feels nice, until she glances over my shoulder again and frowns. She shivers a second time.

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