Fools Rush in(29)

“Not much, Millie, not much. Hey, was that you I saw running the other day?”

“Might have been,” I answered, feeling my face flush. I gratefully took the drink from Chris and took a huge slurp, hoping Joe would drop the subject.

“On Nauset?” He didn’t seem as if he was trying to bust my chops with those big green eyes of his looking at me so innocently, his golden lashes catching the light.

“I live on Cable,” I said, artfully dodging the question. “I run on Nauset every once in a while.”

“Oh, yeah? I thought you lived on Oak Street.”

“My parents live on Oak.” I took another large swig of my drink. It wasn’t bad. Not good, either, but not bad. “I live not too far from the lighthouse.” Great! Now he knew where I lived.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned around. It was Lorenzo.

“Oh! Hi, Lorenzo!” I said.

“Sorry I’m a little late,” he said with a frown, glancing at Joe.

“Oh, that’s okay. Lorenzo, this is Joe Carpenter,” I replied. “Joe, Lorenzo Bellefiore.”

“Good to meet you,” Joe said, extending a hand to Lorenzo. They shook. My boyfriends shook hands. I fought the bubble of laughter that wanted to burst out of me.

“Lorenzo’s new to the Cape,” I told Joe. “He’s a marine biologist.”

“Oh, yeah?” the golden one replied affably. “Great.”

“What do you do, Joe?” the dark god asked. Was it my imagination, or did Lorenzo sound a little…impatient? Impatient to be with me?

“I’m a carpenter,” Joe answered.

“Oh. I thought that was your name,” Lorenzo said, looking perplexed.

“It is. Joe Carpenter the Carpenter. It’s my slogan.” Joe smiled at me again, and my heart stopped beating for a second.

“Gotcha.”

I could have watched them all night, my head swiveling back and forth like a frenetic windshield wiper, but thankfully, Katie interrupted. “Your table is all set,” she said in professional-waitress mode.

“Nice talking to you, Joe,” I said, sliding out of my seat to follow Katie.

“Don’t forget your drink,” he replied, handing me my glass with a half grin.

“Thanks.” Oh, he was so sweet!

Lorenzo and I sat down at an intimate little corner table (thank you, best friend). Katie handed us our menus and gave the wine list to Lorenzo. When she was safely out of his field of vision, she gave me the thumbs-up.

“So,” I said to Lorenzo, “how’s your hand?”

He frowned. “It’s all right. It still hurts. Do you think it’s infected?”

I took his hand and studied the cut. The stitches were holding fast, and the cut was healing perfectly, no inflammation, no redness. “It’s not infected.”

He raised his eyebrows as if dubious.

“Well. So, Lorenzo, what do you think of the Barnacle?”

He looked around, taking in the mishmash of nautical decorations and eclectic tablecloths. “Very cute. Have you eaten here before?”

“Oh, absolutely. Lots of times. The lobster bisque is out of this world.”

For what seemed like forever, Lorenzo studied the menu. After all, he was a scientist and clearly needed all the facts before making a decision. I sipped my drink and looked around casually, wondering who, other than Joe, Chris the bartender and Katie, would see me tonight with this divine creature.

“I guess I’ll try the bisque,” Lorenzo said, giving me a smile that was very nearly as beautiful as Joe’s. “And the grilled swordfish.”

Katie came back with a refill on my drink and took our orders. I was already starting to feel a little warm, so I asked Lorenzo a few questions designed to get him to talk until my bloodstream adjusted to the vodka I was pouring into it.

“Do you like it here so far, Lorenzo? Spring on the Cape is gorgeous.”

He leaned back in his chair and regarded me with his bottomless brown eyes. “It’s fine,” he answered. “Very pretty in parts. But the thing that’s driving me a little crazy is the lack of decent conversation. It’s great talking to you.”

Hmm. Was that a compliment? Hard to say.

“The people…I don’t know,” he went on.

Alarm bells went off in my head. I sat up a little straighter. “What about the people?”

“Well…no one is exactly welcoming. I mean, I’ve been here a month, and you’re the first person I can actually talk to.”

“I think that’s just the way it is in an area that relies on a tourist economy,” I said reassuringly. “The locals are generally a little reserved. They need the tourism dollars but feel a lack of respect from the out-of-towners.” Nicely said, I thought, despite (or perhaps because of) my buzz.

“I suppose that’s true,” Lorenzo agreed. I smiled at him to show there were no hard feelings.

Katie arrived with our soup. “Enjoy,” she murmured, deliberately stepping on my foot as she set the bowl in front of me. Lorenzo took a slurp.

“Oh, that is good,” he said. The bisque was, as always, rich and piping hot, with huge chunks of lobster swimming in the creamy liquid. I managed not to dribble any on my bosom and forced myself not to tip the bowl up and drink from it.