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eternity trying to slip into our crazy world.” He watched as her smile transformed into a thoughtful pursing of her lips. What was it about Chloe that made him feel off balance? He waved his coffee cup. “You think they spiked our drinks?”
She gave a tiny shrug and wrinkled her nose. “Anyone listening to our jabbering might think so.”
She glanced at the clock on the wall and leaped up, sending the table teetering. Scotty grabbed it and steadied it before it could fall.
“I have to go—I lost track of the time.” She smoothed her skirt down her legs. She had legs like an athlete, toned and long and lean. He stopped himself from imagining those legs gripped in ecstasy around his hips.
“If you’re in town for a few days, maybe we could go for a walk,” he said in the most casual tone he could muster. “You’re about the only person I can talk stars with.” He meant it, but also knew it was the only lure he could throw. Despite his vow not to pursue her, he’d do just about anything to see her again.
She looked unsure, maybe frazzled and worried, but interested too.
“How about Monday morning?” When she didn’t answer, he added, “Just a walk?”
When she said yes and told him her cell number, he ignored the warning in his gut and punched the number into his phone. She grabbed the bag with the other two cookies and rushed out of the bookstore. Wherever she was headed, she was in a mighty hurry.
     
     

Chapter Four
     
On Monday, Scotty stood at the top of the cliff overlooking the beach and checked his watch. It was the third time he’d looked in fifteen minutes. Chloe was late. Or maybe she’d changed her mind since they’d exchanged text messages the day before to arrange a meeting place and time. That he was breaking his usual routine on a day he was scheduled to pitch gnawed at him, but his desire to see her won out.
He tapped his finger along the metal rail of the overlook. To distract himself, he counted the wooden stairs leading to the beach. Twenty-six. Beyond the wide crescent of pebbled beach, the sea stretched out, a vast blanket of blue spreading to the horizon. He’d loved growing up in Nebraska but since he’d moved out to the coast, he knew he’d never move back. He’d fallen in love with the ocean.
In his peripheral vision, he saw a kid walk toward him, holding out a piece of paper. He signed the autograph for the boy and answered a couple of predictable questions. Apparently satisfied with the answers, the kid ran off toward the souvenir shop and was scooped up by a man Scotty was sure was his dad.
A silver Jetta pulled up and Chloe stepped out. He muttered a brief prayer to the timing gods. Neither of them needed to be reminded of their roles in the game, not if they were going to enjoy their walk. And he had every intention of doing just that.
“There was a parade on California Street,” Chloe said. “California Street! There are never parades on California Street.”
He shrugged. “I’ve only been in San Francisco long enough to know where to get something to eat at midnight. Don’t know much about parade routes.” When she smiled, he couldn’t help adding, “It looks like never is living up to its reputation for promoting exceptions.”
As he studied her, he saw the lines of strain around her eyes. Something was eating at her. He resisted the temptation to scoop her up and offer to make it all better. He probably couldn’t anyway, but it shocked him that he had the urge.
“Sorry I’m late.” She fidgeted with the hem of her sweater. “I hate to be late.”
“No worries—the pelicans that flew by ten minutes ago promised to make a pass back this way. You haven’t missed anything.”
If anyone were to ask him what they talked about as they walked along the beach, he might’ve been able to give a general report. But his attention wasn’t on words, though the conversation was animated and easy. He soaked in everything about her as if he’d been starved of sight