An Invincible Summer (Wyndham Beach #1)(101)

“Hey, Maggie. Nice to see you again.” From her post, Coraline checked out the carrier holding two cups of coffee and the bag with Ground Me on the front. “And so soon.”

“Good morning. Is Chief Crawford in?” Maggie ignored Coraline’s scrutiny.

“He’s in his office. I’ll let him know you’re here.” Coraline buzzed him, relayed the message, then hung up. She pointed toward the hall. “You know the way.”

“I do. Thanks.”

Maggie tapped on Brett’s open door with the back of the hand holding the bag.

“Hey, Maggie. This is a surprise.” He stood and walked around the desk. “Is that coffee . . . ?”

“Yes, and a doughnut. Glazed. You used to like those, so I thought . . .” She handed him the bag.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think this was a peace offering.” He moved a stack of files from one of the visitors’ chairs and gestured for her to sit.

“I needed an excuse to come and see you.” She sat and took the top off her coffee to have something to do with her hands.

“You never need an excuse, but I’m glad you’re here.” He opened the bag and smiled. “No one in town does a better glazed doughnut than the guy they have working in the back at Ground Me.”

“I met Joe. We had lunch on Thursday,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow. “How’d it go?”

“Great. He’s . . . well, you met him. I don’t need to tell you what he’s like.” She sipped her coffee.

“I’m so happy it went well for you, and that you saw what I saw in him.” For a moment, his hand holding the doughnut paused in midair. “Meeting him made me wonder what if . . .”

“No.” She waved a hand at him. “We’re not going there. Not today, not ever. He is who he is because of the people who raised him, and we’re going to accept that and not speculate or talk about anything different, hear me?”

Brett nodded. “I hear you, and you’re right. We should focus on who he is, not . . . well, not anything else.”

“I really like him. I can’t wait to see him again.”

“I feel the same way.” Apparently sensing it might be time to change the subject, Brett said, “So Liddy’s buying the bookstore from Fred. It’s about time. Poor Carl really had his hands full, trying to run the hardware store and keep track of his father at the same time.”

They talked for a few more minutes, but then Brett got a call, reminding them both he had a job to do. Maggie left after he picked up the phone, and waved goodbye from the doorway.

On Wednesday, she brought coffee to the office again, and on Friday, she picked up lunch for them to share at his desk. Maggie was beginning to look forward to spending a half hour or so with Brett every few days, and it appeared he did as well. They were more relaxed and friendly with each other than she ever expected they could be, and she enjoyed his company. More than ever, she knew she’d done the right thing in moving back to Wyndham Beach. It had been an emotional decision, the first step in shrugging off the mantle of sorrow she’d worn for much of her life, beginning with the death of her sister, continuing with the loss of her baby, her parents’ divorce, the continued grief for her son, the eventual breakup with Brett, and the death of her mother, and ending with Art’s passing. So many times during his illness, Art had urged her to seek happiness after he passed, to not spend the rest of her life in mourning. At the time, she hadn’t believed her future held much joy, but there’d been more laughter than tears as that heavy mantle began to slip from her shoulders. She’d made her peace with Art when she’d sold their home and made the decision to move on with her life. Now, with every day that passed, life seemed brighter, the future more hopeful, than she’d ever imagined possible. She was beginning to believe something wonderful was waiting for her, if she’d only reach for it. If she only believed.



On Saturday morning, Maggie walked up Cottage Street following her run. Sweat ran down her face, and she swore even her eyelashes were sweating. She was wiping her face with the bottom of her T-shirt when she heard a car pull up next to her.

It would be him, she inwardly groaned after she glanced over her shoulder and saw the blue-and-white police car stopped at the curb.

“This is a new look for you,” Brett said as he got out from behind the wheel.

“Nice of you to notice.” She pulled her shirt back down and tried to pull up her ponytail.

“Hard not to. I haven’t seen you sweat like that since you were on the track team back in high school.”

“I’ll have you know I’m in training for a marathon,” she told him.

“Do tell.” Looking faintly amused, he leaned back against the passenger-side panel.

“It’s been on my bucket list. And after talking to Dee Olson at the reunion luncheon, I was inspired. Do you know she runs marathons?”

“I do. She runs the Boston Marathon every year. She’s quite the accomplished runner.”

“Well, she told me she’d help me get started if I was serious about it. I thought I’d run a few miles every day before I called her. You know, build up to it.” She rested her hands on her hips. “It would be really embarrassing to go out with her and pass out after the first quarter mile.”