The Spring at Moss Hill Read Online Free PDF

responsible drinker.”
    â€œDoes that mean you want me to go heavy on the pineapple juice?”
    â€œIt does not.”
    Daphne noted how he’d changed the subject from talk of his father, deliberately. Fathers could be a tricky topic. It had occurred to her, more than once, that the Colton brothers knew far more about her than she did them. Russ, because he worked with Sawyer & Sawyer and she was a client. Marty, because he made a hell of a French martini and she was a customer. She considered them friends, and she thought they considered her a friend, if along the lines of an eccentric aunt.
    An aunt would know more about her nephews than Daphne did about Marty and Russ Colton.
    She leaned forward. “Marty, darling, are you dawdling?”
    â€œNo, ma’am. I have your drink right here.”
    â€œYou’re such a brat. You know I hate being called ma’am.”
    He set her drink in front of her. “That will take the sting off the insult.”
    Chambord liqueur, vodka and pineapple juice, with a twist of lemon. It was Daphne’s favorite drink these days. She took a sip. “Ah. Perfect, as always. Have you ever sampled one, Marty?”
    â€œNo. Never will, either.”
    â€œRuss tried mine a few weeks ago. I think you were busy and missed it. I could tell he wanted to spit it out, but he’s a tough guy. He resisted. He said it tastes like spiked punch.”
    â€œTo each his own.”
    â€œThat’s what I told him.”
    Marty grabbed a white cloth and mopped up where he’d prepared her drink. “Are you seriously worried you’ll run into problems next week in this little town?”
    â€œThey’re expecting fifty people at my master class.”
    â€œYou can handle it. That’s nothing in your world.”
    â€œWhat if one of them is fixated on me in an unhealthy way?”
    â€œYou’d have forty-nine people there to help you.”
    Daphne didn’t want to explain her mix of emotions about returning to Knights Bridge. Paranoia, excitement, dread, dedication. Affection. She’d come to adore Ruby and Ava O’Dunn. She’d known their father when she’d lived in Knights Bridge, briefly, as a young woman. He’d died tragically ten years ago in a tree-trimming accident. Ruby, in particular, reminded Daphne of handsome, poetic Patrick O’Dunn.
    â€œYou okay?” Marty asked as he poured a beer for another customer.
    She made herself smile and adopt her practiced air of not having a care in the world. “Did Russ tell you he caught a stalker targeting a young actor? He didn’t tell me. The actor did. No charges were filed. Our stalker volunteered to return home to Portland and go back into therapy. All it took was seeing Russ on his doorstep. Russ didn’t have to say a word.” Daphne drank more of her martini. “He says it was his sunglasses.”
    â€œHe does look like a badass in those sunglasses.”
    â€œBut it wasn’t just the sunglasses,” Daphne said.
    Marty shrugged. “Russ is very good at what he does. He’s a natural at his job, but he’s also worked hard at it. He had a lot of experience in the navy.”
    Marty delivered the beer down the bar. He had the ability to carry on multiple conversations. He was a dabbler, bartending, acting, screenwriting, grabbing whatever work he could to live his Hollywood dreams. Daphne understood and tried to help, to get him to focus on the work and not just the dream. But he was focused, Daphne thought. It was easy to underestimate Marty Colton.
    She nursed her martini. She didn’t want to have two drinks, but she also didn’t want to gulp down this one and end up going home too early. She supposed she could switch to sparkling water, but she knew she wouldn’t. When Marty returned, he tilted his head back, studying her. She wasn’t fooled by his good looks and easygoing ways. He could be as incisive and