02_The Hero Next Door Read Online Free PDF Page B

a few hours of leisure.
    At least there’d been no unexpected customers this Saturday or Sunday, as there had been last weekend. In fact, she hadn’t had even a glimpse of Justin—J.C., she reminded herself—since the cat incident his second day on the island.
    Edith kept her informed of his activities, however. So Heather was aware he’d rented a bike. Aware he’d been using his off-hours to explore the island. Aware he’d begun attending church with the Shaws.
    But most of all, she was simply aware. Of him.
    And that scared her.
    Flopping onto her back, she turned her head to observe the new green leaves of her prized October Glory maple tree as they fluttered against a cloudless deep-blue sky. A gentle breeze wafted through her open window, and she inhaled the fresh, salty scent of the Nantucket morning, trying to relax.
    That wasn’t going to happen today, however, she acknowledged. Thanks to the arrival of a certain Chicago cop who’d managed to disrupt her peace of mind.
    With an irritated huff, Heather threw back the covers and padded over to push the lace curtain aside and lower the sash against the slight morning chill. Most of the little guest cottage tucked among the hydrangea bushes at the back of Edith’s property was hidden from her view, though she could catch a glimpse of the front door and roof if she tried. Which she did, despite a warning voice that told her to turn away. And to her dismay, that quick peek was enough to quicken her pulse.
    Not good.
    How in the world could she be so attracted to a man she’d spoken to for less than five minutes?
    Yet she couldn’t deny the almost-palpable chemistry—on her side, anyway. She’d felt it in the foyer of The Devon Rose, when J.C. had taken her hand in his strong grip and looked at her with those intense dark eyes. And she’d felt it again when he’d pulled her into the shadows by the house the night of the cat invasion. A whisper away, she’d inhaled his rugged aftershave. Felt the warmth of his hand seep into her arm and radiate through her body. Sensed that with this man protecting her, she’d be safe from any threat.
    Except the one he himself represented.
    That was what scared her.
    Because J.C. wasn’t for her. The Anderson women’s bad judgment about men aside, the Chicago detective was here only for the summer. Besides, she’d learned an important lesson from her mother’s experience—and from the histories she’d read about the independent Nantucket women of the past who’d run the town while the men were away on long whaling trips: take control of your own destiny. Never give anyone jurisdiction over your life—materially or emotionally.
    She’d forgotten that lesson with Mark. But his betrayal hadbeen a wake-up call. She’d been fooled once, and the shame was on him. The next time around, the shame would be hers.
    Letting the delicate lace curtain fall back into place, Heather turned away from the window. Considering she hadn’t seen him once in the past eight days, avoiding J.C. shouldn’t be a problem, she assured herself.
    And as the old saying went, out of sight, out of mind.
    She hoped.
     
     
    Propped against a large piece of driftwood on Ladies Beach, J.C. adjusted his baseball cap, settled his sunglasses into a more comfortable position on his nose and flipped the tab on his soda can.
    This was why he’d come to Nantucket.
    Not a soul was visible in either direction down the long expanse of golden sand. Edith’s recommendation for a getaway spot had been perfect. At the end of a dirt road not traveled by most tourists, this secluded stretch was, as she’d promised, a quiet refuge among the busy South Shore beaches.
    Tucked in at the base of a sheltered dune, his bike propped beside him, J.C. had a panoramic view of the glistening sea. It was the perfect place to spend the afternoon of his first full day off since starting work, and he intended to make the most of it.
    A boat appeared in the distance, and he