Page 11 of All You Need Is Love

Chapter 3

She was the very definition of a fool. Look it up in the dictionary—there would be a picture of Shannon Baker.

Why had she ever thought Marshall was interested in her? And why hadn’t she protested his help last night over dinner?

Shannon picked at a blueberry muffin as her eyes scanned the Frosted Cake from the back corner of the bakery-slash-restaurant. She’d had more than one customer ask if they could steal the second chair from her table since arriving an hour ago—enough time to, hopefully, settle her nerves with a cup of tea and one of Josephine Radcliffe’s amazing pastries.

And there was truly no better place to cheer someone up, what with the bright and fun beach decor, the chatter of Sunday brunch-goers, and the morning sunlight filtering through the large bay window that overlooked the beach.

But all the extra time had given her was a twisted-up stomach and sixty minutes of conversing with various locals. Already she’d seen their librarian, Madison, and her boyfriend, Evan, who both smiled like they had a secret, as well as reporter Piper Lansbury, who was making the rounds asking people to support the Walker Beach Press. Apparently it was in danger of shutting its doors.

And then there was Bud Travis, who’d recently put in a bid for mayor and was out chatting people up. The seventy-year-old already had her vote, but she’d spent a few minutes wishing him well and volunteering her help with his campaign should he need it.

At least those moments had distracted her temporarily from why she was really here.

Every time the bell over the door jangled from across the room, her eyes flicked that way. But still no Marshall. Wasn’t like he was all that late, though.

Shannon blew out a steadying breath, took a sip from her lukewarm tea, and picked up a pen, studying the spiral notebook in front of her where she’d written “Family Reunion Picnic Ideas.” Every year, they did the same thing. She’d hoped to add her own spin to the event this year, but the rest of the page was still blank.

“Sorry I’m late.”

Shannon lurched at the deep baritone echoing from above her, and light brown liquid spilled from her cup across her paper.

“Sorry for that too.” Marshall slid into the seat across from her, grabbed several napkins from the dispenser on their table, and helped her dab up the mess. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Her cheeks burned. First she’d dumped a whole bowl of potato salad on her feet last night, now this. “It’s my fault.” The soaked notebook was ruined. Standing, she walked to the nearest trash can and threw it away, all the while tamping down the urge to run for the Exit.

What was wrong with her? She’d had a very pleasant time with this man just yesterday. He was kind and fun. She had nothing to be nervous about.

But as she approached and he turned his brown eyes on her, her insides turned to ice.

Chill out. He’s Quinn’s. He wasn’t flirting with you yesterday. Just being friendly.

Which meant she had no cause whatsoever to treat him any differently than she had when he’d been a perfect stranger. In fact, she should treat him with even more kindness now that she knew his relationship with her sister.

Marshall pulled a small menu from behind the napkin holder. Today he wore a purple-and-white-striped button-up open over a black shirt. Once again, the shirtsleeves were rolled to his elbows, revealing tan, toned forearms. “So what’s good here?”

“Everything.”

He nodded at her muffin. “Except the muffins, apparently.”

“They’re amazing. I’m just not very hungry.” With good reason. Being near the man brought a strange mixture of nausea and elation. She pushed the plate across the table. “Try it if you want. I only took a small forkful from that side.”

“If you insist.” Tugging off a small bit with his fingers, he popped it into his mouth and closed his eyes. “Is this heaven? Wow.”

Shannon couldn’t hold back a giggle. “Pretty close. You should try Josephine’s chocolate croissants.”

“I’ll be right back then. You want anything else? Another tea?” He leaned down and sniffed the air above the table. “Earl Grey, right?”

The man knew his tea. “Yes. And um, sure.” She reached for her purse. “Let me get some cash.”

Marshall made a face and waved a hand. “No need. Be right back.” He strode toward the front register, where a glass pastry case displayed all of the goodies.

“Hey.” A late-twenties brunette wearing a yellow boho tunic stopped by her table, turning a curious eye to Marshall’s retreating figure. “I’m surprised to see you here. Doesn’t the reunion start today?”

Shannon offered a smile. “Hi, Jenna.” Even though they were both Walker Beach natives and in the same grade growing up, she’d never known Jenna Wakefield all that well until Jenna’s sister Gabrielle had married Shannon’s brother last year. “It starts tonight, but I’m still doing some last-minute planning.”

“Is that what we’re calling a date now?”

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