Dogwood Hill

The woman beamed. “Not a thing. That nice young man has already rung up my purchases, but he said I needed to speak to you about the custom doghouse.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how he did it, but I’m leaving here with at least three things I’m sure I didn’t intend to buy. You have a wonderful selection. You can count on me being a regular. I’m afraid I pamper Petunia outrageously. That dog is like a child to me.”

As the woman left, a satisfied expression on her face, Liz glanced in Aidan’s direction. He was smiling at a group of women in a way that could have gotten anyone—or at least any female over the age of consent—to buy just about anything. Maybe he was more than an angel. Perhaps he was a secret weapon she ought to consider using on a much more regular basis.

But, she told herself sternly, only as long as she could find some way to inoculate herself against all that charm that seemed to come so naturally. Her husband had been a lot like that, charming everyone he met. She’d learned way too late to distrust that, but it was a lesson she wasn’t likely to forget.

* * *

“How was lunch?” Aidan asked when Liz eventually made her way back to the front of the store.

“Delicious,” she said. “Thank you. And thanks for the break, too. I think I can handle things from now on out. You should go back and finish your own lunch before it’s ice-cold.”

“I had plenty,” he insisted. “Do you have help coming in?”

She shook her head. “There’s a high school girl who comes in after school a few days a week, but her family was going away for the weekend.”

Aidan frowned. “It wasn’t very responsible of her to bail on you on a holiday weekend.”

Liz shrugged. “I didn’t think it was a big deal at the time. I know better now. Tess is hoping for more hours this summer and now I can safely tell her she’ll get them.”

“How about I hang around, at least until the crowd slows down. You can work your magic answering questions and I can stay up here at the register.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” she protested.

“You didn’t ask. It’s not as if I have other pressing things to do. I’ve been enjoying the chance to talk to people.” Unsaid was that he liked watching her in action, too. She had a quiet sales manner that seemed to make people instinctively trust her. And her enthusiasm for the merchandise was plain. It was a potent combination that excited people, but assured they never felt pressured.

Glancing around at the number of people still milling about, she seemed to reach a conclusion. “If you’re sure you don’t mind, I’d be grateful for the help, but only until things quiet down.”

“Agreed,” he said at once. “Now go. There’s someone else looking longingly at that doghouse. I think you can sell another one.”

Liz immediately scurried off in that direction, leaving him to ring up sales and chat with the tourists, who seemed to have come from all over the region. Many were staying at The Inn at Eagle Point and raving about the food. Others were asking for tips on other shops and restaurants.

“I’m new to town, but I’ve heard good things about Brady’s seafood,” he told them. “And I can testify firsthand that O’Brien’s has a terrific, authentic Irish pub menu. If you’re looking for something simple, like a burger or a crab cake sandwich, Sally’s right up the block is terrific. It’s very popular with all the locals.”

He was amused to realize he was starting to sound like a spokesman for the Chamber of Commerce. Not that he was likely to do this on a regular basis, but he really did need to get around more if he was going to be passing out recommendations.

As that tourist left, he started ringing up yet another sale, when he realized the woman was studying him intently.

“You’re the new football coach, aren’t you?” she said.

“Aidan Mitchell,” he confirmed.

“I’m Pamela Hobbs. My son is the team quarterback. He’ll be a senior next year, so his father and I are expecting great things from him.”

“I’m still getting to know the players,” Aidan told her, wise enough to word his response carefully. “We’re a long way from settling how next fall’s team will shape up, but Coach Gentry definitely told me about your son. I’m looking forward to seeing him in action. I hope to get in a couple of scrimmages before school’s out.”

She frowned at his response. “Surely you’re not considering making any changes to the roster.”

Aidan saw the minefield. “It’s much too early to say.”

She looked as if she was about to argue, but instead she gave a tug to her tight, scoop-neck T-shirt to display even more cleavage before fluffing her perfectly highlighted chestnut hair. Holding his gaze, she suggested, “Perhaps we could have a drink and discuss this further.”

He bit back a smile. “Sorry. As you can see, I’m busy.”

She frowned at that. “You’re not working here, are you?”

“I’m helping out a friend.”

“Well, I’m sure she won’t mind if you take care of something that is related to your job as the coach.”

“She might not, but I do. I made a commitment. Besides, any decisions I make about next year’s team will be based on what I see on the field.”

She drew herself up, her expression hardening. “Then I imagine my husband will want to have a chat with you Tuesday morning.”

Aidan nodded, keeping his expression pleasant. “I’ll look forward to it.”

As much as he didn’t want to get into it with any player’s father, the prospect of tangling with a mother who was so obviously on the prowl was a whole lot less appealing.

* * *

Even though Pet Style was supposed to close at six, it was after seven by the time the last customer left. Liz’s feet ached and she was even more exhausted by having to keep a smile plastered on her face, especially with a couple of customers who’d been rude and demanding. She’d also been out of sorts since she’d noticed Pamela Hobbs, a notorious flirt, flaunting her ample chest in Aidan’s face.

“I noticed you made a conquest earlier,” she said in what she hoped was her most casual, disinterested tone as she turned the lock on the door and put the closed sign in the window.

Aidan glanced up curiously from the display he’d started straightening. “What are you talking about?”

“Pamela Hobbs,” she said. “I should probably warn you, though, that she’s married, but has a reputation for not paying much attention to that fact.”

A slow grin spread across Aidan’s face. “Thanks for the heads-up, but I knew exactly who she was and what she was after, which is why I turned down her invitation to leave here and go out for a drink.” He gave her a wink. “Thanks for giving me the perfect excuse.”

Liz wasn’t sure if she was more impressed by his intuitiveness or appalled by Pamela’s lack of discretion. “Does that happen a lot?” she asked. “Women coming on to you?”

“When I played pro football, it happened all the time,” he said in a way that suggested he was more bewildered than pleased by it. “Since I’ve been coaching less than a week, this is a first that a mom has tried to assure her son’s spot on the team by offering herself up as an incentive.” He held her gaze. “And just so you know, I wouldn’t have been interested even if I hadn’t known she was married. She’s not my type.”

Liz couldn’t seem to keep herself from asking, “What is your type?”

“I’ll let you know when I figure it out, but definitely someone a whole lot less obvious than Pamela Hobbs.”

“You’ve never been in a serious relationship?”

“Define serious.”

“One you thought might lead to marriage,” she said at once.

He shook his head. “I’ve had a couple of long-term relationships, but in college I was too focused on making it into the National Football League. Once I was drafted, I was determined to put all my energy into getting better. Anything too serious would have been a distraction. The women I knew got tired of waiting around.”

“You don’t sound terribly distraught over that,” she noted.

“Which tells me I wasn’t that serious about any of them,” he said. “I was certainly sad to end things with a couple of them, but I wasn’t ready to make the commitment they wanted.” He shrugged. “Then my mom got sick, I had a career-ending injury and I didn’t have a lot of time to think about anything else.”