It was a crazy kind of cute the way her face flushed and her eyes lit up, whenever she spoke about food, as if it brought her excitement. The sort of excitement he used to feel about a new photo venture. For a few seconds, he wondered how it would be to photograph her. That face. That smile. Thatbody. Dylan had to get a grip, hold back yet another inclination to hook his arm around her waist, kiss those delicious-looking lips. “You sure are adorable, Chloe Davenport.”Way to go, smart guy.He didn’t mean for his mouth to spill out what he was thinking.
Chloe cupped her hands to her mouth and blew into them. “I haven’t been called adorable since I was like…five.” That half-smile she often sported—the one that made it hard for his heartnotto beat faster—grew wider.
“I believe your sassiness is just as adorable.” He winked, held the door open, and motioned for her to walk back inside Destiny’s Brew.
With all the doors and windows boarded up, The Early Brew Crew, Samantha, and Liam were seated at the rectangular communal table, chatting away. “Why don’t you join them? I’ll bring us all coffee and muffins,” Dylan suggested to Chloe as he walked behind the counter.
Mitch waved a beckoning hand. “Yeah, come join us. We all missed you yesterday.”
From behind the counter, Dylan watched Chloe ease onto a stool and jump right into conversation with the group, as if she’d known them her entire life. And when the coffee was all brewed, he carried a carafe, cups, and a box of pastries to the table, sliding an apple pie muffin over to Chloe as he lowered himself onto the stool beside her. “Miss Davenport, your favorite.”
“Davenport?” Samantha’s face was all decked out in curiosity.
Oh, no. Did Dylan just blow Chloe’s cover? He tossed her anI’m sorryglance.
“ChloeDavenport?” Samantha shot up from her stool, face glittered with excitement.
Now everyone at the table had eyes set on Chloe, who sat there, hands wrapped around her coffee cup, mouth drawn in a hard line.
“Yep”—she dipped her head—“I’m Chloe Davenport.”
Samantha jumped up and down, let out a muffled screech. “Can I—can I hug you?”
Color—a wild pink—embedded Chloe’s cheeks. “Of course, you can.”
The soft-spoken Hillary, raised her hand, wrinkled her nose. “Now, let me get this straight. You’re that fancy writer lady who sneaks into towns, spies on its unsuspecting residents, then makes a book about their lives?”
“That would be right,” Dylan replied on behalf of Chloe, who was being smothered by a giddy Samantha.
“Oh, my. Mayor Parker would absolutely die if she knew you were here in Fortune’s Bay and that this town may be the setting for your next beach read. It’s no secret she adores your novels,” chimed in Marge. “We all do, really.”
“I can’t believe you’re here and I’m actually meeting you. I have every single one of your love stories. And oh, my gosh…the last one, Lovestruck in Pine Cove, I’ve read it at least six times.”
“Seven.” Liam felt the need to correct his wife, who was obviously having a super-fan moment.
Chloe rested her hand over her chest. “I’m so flattered. But you all have got to keep this between us. My publisher and editor would freak out if they knew my cover was blown. They like to keep my whereabouts, not to mention my identity, hush-hush, careful not to give away where my next book will be set.”
“So, there will be a Lovestruck in Fortune’s Bay?” Liam grabbed Samantha’s hand, reeled her back to her own stool to give Chloe breathing space.
“I certainly hope so. You’ll get signed copies, of course.”
The offshore wind’s moans began to vibrate the boarded windows and Dylan took it as his cue to get up, to clear the table. “We’d better close up shop, head out, get the supplies we’ll need to get through the storm.”
“Where are you and our new friend planning to stay?” asked Marge. “You know anywhere on Shelter Island is off-limits, now. Gosh, Dylan…you’re not thinking your place on the beach is safe, I hope.”
“We should be fine. Reese installed those storm shutters last month.” Dylan believed the new shutters were durable enough to withstand this storm called Amelia.
Samantha stood, hands on hips. “So, you’re not staying with us?”
Located inland, far away from the surge of waves that hits beachside homes and businesses during a storm, Samantha and Liam’s home was the ideal place to hunker down.
“I didn’t want to impose. I mean if it were just me—”
“You know darn well if your uncle and aunt were still here, they wouldn’t have it any other way,” Mitch interrupted. “They’d want every one of you out of harm’s way.”
The rest of The Crew resembled a group of bobbleheads, dipping their heads down, then up in agreement, knowing their friends, whom they missed dearly, would have insisted they ride out the storm in the house they left to their beloved niece and nephew-in-law.
Samantha swallowed a sip of her coffee, flicked her long-lashed, dark browns in the direction of her favorite author. “Chloe, you’re more than welcome to bunk at our house. I mean, Liam and I’d be honored to have you.”
