“Why you weren’t interested in meeting Sam.”

A breath stuck in her throat. “Oh…I…it has nothing to do with Mark, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I saw the way he looked at you.”

“He’s involved with another woman. Seriously involved.”

“It’s not over till the ‘I dos’ have been said. And Mark brought you coffee.” This was stated as if the gesture was of incalculable significance. “It’s probably the equivalent of Dom Pérignon.” Elizabeth cast a covetous glance at the thermos.

“Would you like to try some?” Maggie asked, amused.

“I’ll go get my mug.”

The brew was already creamed and sugared, a flow of light steaming caramel pouring into their cups. Silently they raised their coffees in a toast, and drank.

It wasn’t just coffee…it was an experience. Smooth, roasted, buttery notes gave way to a velvet finish. Strength and sweetness, no trace of bitterness. It warmed Maggie down to her toes.

“Oh my,” Elizabeth said. “This is delicious.”

Maggie took another swallow. “It’s such a problem,” she said dolefully.

The older woman’s face softened with understanding. “Being attracted to Mark Nolan?”

“He’s off-limits. But whenever I see him, even though we’re not flirting, it feels like we are.”

“That’s not a problem,” Elizabeth said.

“It’s not?”

“No, it’s when it stops feeling like flirting that it becomes a problem. So go ahead and flirt—it may be the only thing that’s keeping you from having sex with him.”

Eight

On Halloween, Mark insisted that Sam be the one to take Holly to the activities in Friday Harbor, including a film show at the library, trick-or-treating at local stores, and a children’s party at the fairgrounds. “Make sure to drop by the toy shop to see Maggie,” Mark added.

“You sure?” Sam asked doubtfully.

“Yes. Everyone wants the two of you to meet, including Maggie herself. So go for it. Ask her out if you like her.”

“I don’t know,” Sam said. “You have that look on your face.”

“What look?”

“The look you get just before you kick someone’s ass.”

“I’m not going to kick anyone’s ass,” Mark said calmly. “She’s not mine. I’m with Shelby.”

“Then why does it feel like asking Maggie out would be rack jacking you?”

“It wouldn’t be rack jacking. I’m with Shelby.”

Sam had laughed quietly and scratched his head. “Your new mantra. Okay, I’ll check her out.”

Later Sam returned home with Holly, who’d had a wonderful time during the Halloween activies, and had filled an entire plastic pumpkin bucket with candy. Ceremoniously, they spread the candy on the table, surveyed it with admiration, and Holly chose two or three pieces to eat right then.

“Okay, upstairs to the bathtub,” Mark had said, bending down to let Holly climb onto his back. “This is about the grimiest, stickiest little fairy I’ve ever seen.”

“You don’t believe in fairies,” Holly said, giggling, as he carried her up the stairs piggyback.