Three Little Words

“I mean, you are interested in the Gull Rock lighthouse, right? Or were the books strictly for your grandfather’s sake?”

“Both, I guess.” Connor cleared his throat. “Seeing as how I own it.”

A paperback mystery slid from Tess’s fingers and dropped onto the desktop, pages splayed. “Pardon me? You own the lighthouse?”

“There was a public auction a year ago…”

“Yes, I remember.”

“I put in the high bid.”

“But I heard—” Tess gave her head a shake, making chunks of her short, thick hair bounce in the sunlight, shining like a handful of new pennies. “The word around town was that a famous writer bought the place. Unfounded rumor, I suppose.” She tilted her head, lifted a shoulder. “That happens.”

But she was staring at him now. Any minute she’d make the connection. Connor kept his face blank. “All I know is I’m the owner.”

Fortunately, she veered to another subject. “Your grandfather must be pleased.”

“He says I’m crazy, but, yeah, he’s damn pleased. I’m hoping to whip the lighthouse into acceptable shape and take him out there for a final visit.”

“Ohhh.” Tess smiled fondly, looking at Connor as if he’d transformed from grungy stranger to Hallmark card.

“I’ll sell it after he’s gone,” he said out of a certain perversity, denying the reasons he’d bought the lighthouse just to prove how cold he could be. He didn’t need Tess to start thinking he was an okay guy when really he was a hard-hearted son of a bitch who’d barter grief for a good story. “The thing’s a white elephant. It was a crazy idea to bid on it in the first place.”

Although Tess’s eyes had narrowed, she wasn’t about to let him knock her down so easily. Instead, she smiled at his grouchiness, unimpressed and unintimidated. His estimation of her went up another notch.

“It’s a local landmark,” she said. “You could donate it to the town. The historical society would be absolutely thrilled to take over management and develop the site as a museum.”

“Do I look like a philanthropist?”

Her gaze traced over him. Not with disinterest, if the glint in her eyes meant anything. Her lips pursed. “You don’t want to know what I think you look like.”

He shrugged. “That bad?”

“Nothing a shave and a change couldn’t cure.”

“I’ll be more presentable next time you see me.”

She blinked, catching herself staring. He smiled, liking—despite himself—the way she became ruffled, running a hand through her hair, stacking and restacking the books before her. Her fingers pattered nervously over the desktop.

“When can I take you to visit Sonny?” he asked. “He’s at Three Pines.”

“I, um, I’ll have to—”

“The sooner the better.”

She sighed. Squinted one eye at the clock near the desk. “This evening? I’m off work at six. Would seven-thirty be okay?”

“How about six-thirty? We’ll have to drive to the nursing home in Ishpeming, and Sonny conks out pretty early. It’ll be a very short visit.”

“That barely gives me time to wash and change. I suppose I could grab a sandwich on the go.”

“If your stomach can wait, I’ll take you to dinner afterward.” The words were out of Connor’s mouth before he could censor them. Damn. “Nothing personal, of course. Just a business dinner. We’ll discuss how to proceed with Sonny’s lessons.” Make that how to persuade Sonny to accept lessons from her.

Tess frowned. “If that’s what you want.”

She couldn’t have been less enthusiastic.

“But I’m taking my own car,” she added.

Yes, she could.

Connor uncrossed his arms and walked over to the study table where he’d left the lighthouse books. “Seems unnecessary, but whatever you want.”

Tess defended herself, probably because she was too prim to be rude. “Suppose you choose to get a room outside of Alouette. This way, you won’t have to drive me back.”

He made up his mind. “It’s more important that I be in town to work on the lighthouse. I’ll try the B and B you mentioned. Bay House, was it?”

“Yes,” she said faintly, looking worried, as if she suspected him of backing her into a corner.

Rightly. He was enjoying bantering with her a lot more than he should have. “Can I check these out?” he asked, sliding his books across her desk.

“You may, with a temporary guest card. You’ll have to provide some personal information and pay ten dollars.” She bent, rummaged through a drawer, then handed him a pale green card and a pen. The process seemed too trusting to Connor, but that must be how they did it in small towns.

He wrote down his New York address. Luckily, there was no line asking for his occupation.

Tess read over the card, then requested two forms of ID. Trust wasn’t what it used to be. He gave her the money first, then added his driver’s license, a credit card and threw his New York Public Library card in for fun.

She fingered it contemplatively. “Do you go to the branch with the stone lions?”

He said yes, on occasion, although usually he used the 115th Street branch closest to his apartment. “Have you been there?”

“Just once. On my senior-class trip. I was seventeen and already planning to be a librarian. The New York Public Library seemed so glamorous.” She caught his skeptical eye. “Well, it was! For a library. I thought someday I’d be working there, if I didn’t get in at the Smithsonian first.” She gave a short laugh. “You know how it is when you’re a kid. Anything seems possible. Even a sophisticated life in the city.”

“What stopped you?”

“Nobody stopped me. I changed my mind.”

Connor noted the switch of words. Tess seemed to have no ability to shield her inner thoughts. Already he knew that she’d once dreamed big, but had settled for small. Probably because of a guy. It was always a guy.

Briefly, Connor let himself envy Tess’s guy, which was tolerable because the poor slob obviously wasn’t hers any longer.

Tess had gone prickly. She straightened items on the checkout desk—the same ones she’d just pushed into disarray—with a brisk, thin-lipped efficiency. When there was nothing left to straighten, she stepped back, well away from him, folding her hands together in a gesture that could have been peaceful if she hadn’t been gripping her fingers so tight. His questions had upset her more than innocent questions ought.

“We’re settled, then?” She pressed her thumbs together, turning the nail beds white. “I’ll bring my notebooks and a literacy test to the nursing home.”

“No, don’t do that. Not the first time. We can’t rush Sonny.”

“But I thought this was his request. Why shouldn’t we begin tonight…if time is short?”