Buck's Landing (A New England Seacoast Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page B

if it were.”
    Sofia sighed. He was a sweet man. “I’m flattered, Kevin. But I’m not staying. We’re going to get Buck’s Landing sold, and I’m going home to Washington.”
    “I understand.” He delivered the reply with a professional smile.
    The server came to take their empty plates. When dessert was offered, she declined.
    “Thank you for lunch. I enjoyed myself, but I do need to get back to Hampton.”
    “It was my pleasure, Sofia.” Kevin took the check from the server. “I’ll take care of this. And I’ll be in touch.”
    Sofia had a momentary flutter of guilt. Amy wasn’t expecting her for another few hours. Outside, the sun was high, the sky azure and clear, the heat easy.  A sudden craving for ice cream had her consulting her smartphone, not for the four dozen generic soft-serve flavors she sold at Buck’s Landing, but real cream, hip-expanding ice cream piled into a sugar cone.
    The contract in her bag weighed heavily on her as she walked. She’d surprised herself, with both the memory of the developer and the pang of guilt over the future of the Landing, followed by her refusal of Kevin Landry’s kind and reasonably attractive offer for more than just a casual lunch. Her concern for the Landing’s future, she could write off as mindful business practice, but it was Silas that kept her from saying yes to Kevin’s quiet advance.
    At the small ice cream parlor on Ceres Street, she ordered a double scoop of mint chocolate chip and decided to treat herself to a walking tour of Portsmouth on her way to the car. She hadn’t been back to New Hampshire’s port city in a decade, though it seemed little had changed except for a few newer businesses. As she walked, she considered Silas, trying to pinpoint how he’d gotten past her defenses.
    She put him at just under six feet, with an athlete’s body and a surfer’s collar-length, shaggy blond waves. His blue-gray eyes were long-lashed, and his smile easy. More than the sum of his parts, though, she thought, pausing to look at a fuchsia dress in a shop window.
    It was long, nearly floor-length on the mannequin, and the fabric looked soft and cool where it gathered at the empire waist. A summer vacation dress if ever she’d seen one. Taking a bite of her cone, she looked it over with a critical eye, but the dress invited fantasy. The skirt would flirt with her ankles, play peek-a-boo with her toes. The V-neck and high waistline would emphasize all her best curves. Slim satin straps would show off the rather impressive tan she’d gotten working her off-hours in a tank top all summer.
    She tamped down the vision of an appreciative fire in Silas’s eyes. Then she finished her ice cream and walked into the shop.
    It was a summer for surprises, she told the cashier who rang up the sale. She hadn’t come to Portsmouth to buy a dress. She hadn’t come to New Hampshire to enjoy herself. She certainly hadn’t come to Hampton to flirt with her next-door neighbor, but Silas hadn’t gotten the memo. Ever since his troublesome cat had arrived at the Landing, he crept into her idle thoughts. His arrogant teasing, his determined flirting, ought to have set her teeth on edge, but she kept returning to how his gaze softened when he looked at her, to the humor in his eyes when he talked to his rebellious pet.
    With her wallet lighter and her belly pleasantly heavier, she found her car and headed for the interstate. At the first red light, she rolled down the BMW’s windows and leaned her arm on the door, breathing in the salt and hot pavement scented air. Interstate 95 would bring her back to Hampton in half an hour, but the coastal road would only take fifteen minutes longer.
    Halfway down Route 1-A, when the road swung up onto a rocky stretch of cliffs overlooking the sea in Rye, the memory of a forgotten night snuck up on her. The summer she was sixteen, she and Judy had driven up to Jenness State Beach, just for somewhere different to lie on the sand and