A Man to Believe In. Kathleen Pickering

raised a brow. “Do you?”

      Of course he did. Not only from working the E.R. in Los Angeles, but also from listening to cars pulling into his driveway as a kid, or the footsteps on the walkway up to the door announcing friend or foe. He’d know the sound of the social worker’s footsteps in his sleep. He grinned. “Sure. I’ll tell you all about it sometime.”

      She stopped what she was doing to meet his gaze. “Okay.”

      “How about tonight. Dinner?”

      She shook her head, an odd look in her eye. “Sorry. Working ’til midnight.”

      He shrugged. “I don’t mind eating late.”

      She laughed. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. Another time. Okay?”

      Damn. Shot down. He gave her what he hoped was a careless smile. “I’ll hold you to it.”

      The sinking feeling disappeared once he noticed the rising color in her cheeks. What did that mean? She certainly wasn’t shy. Hmmm. Maybe he had a chance here, but didn’t want to spook her. He’d play on his need for help since she’d chided him about that the other day.

      “I spoke to Mike before coming here.”

      Bingo. She seemed to relax once more. “I’m guessing you’ll need a ride to work on Monday.”

      “Actually, the entire week.” When she looked at him again, he wasn’t sure what the look on her face meant. Surprise? Satisfaction? He held up a hand. “But, I can walk if that’s too much.”

      She frowned. “It’s almost a half hour to get here on foot from the Oceanside.”

      “So?”

      “I don’t know about you but a half hour extra sleep is like gold around here.”

      He jumped at her reasoning. He wanted the ride. “True.”

      “Give me a second to finish logging this chart. We can see if we can coordinate our schedules.”

      He couldn’t keep the grin from his face. “Thanks. That works for me. I’ll wait for as long as it takes.”

      CHAPTER FOUR

      CASSIE AND ELLEN herded the girls onto the beach around eight o’clock on Friday morning. The beach was quiet since the tourist season hadn’t yet begun. But in a few weeks, the Hither Hills campground would swell with campers and families. Kids from all over would fill the beach to compete with the local residents for the children’s sand-castle competition. Right now, it was easy to scout out a spot to sit. When the competition started in June, getting a strategic corner of sand close to the high-tide line would be tricky. The right spot gave the competitors quick access to the water, but also ensured the tide wouldn’t wash away their hard work.

      Ellen had learned a few years ago, that if they made one or two outings before the competition, the twins learned two valuable lessons: one, how to prepare for testing or performing; and two, how to relax and have fun achieving goals by being prepared ahead of time.

      While Cassie and Ellen set up the blankets and umbrella, the twins with half-eaten donuts and bags in hand, searched along the tidewater lines and dunes for shells, driftwood and seaweed—mermaid accessories. Everything used to build the sand sculptures had to be from nature and found on the beach.

      Since competition rules stated that only children alone could create the sculptures, Cassie and Ellen enjoyed stealing these few hours together while the kids were distracted. There was nothing Cassie liked more than to pass time with her friends on the beach. A good dose of sun, salt water and fresh sea air worked wonders to renew the spirit. It was still too cool to swim or boogie-board without a wet suit, but today was for the girls, so Cassie hadn’t brought any gear. She’d worn a new blue bikini, but unless it warmed up, she’d keep her shorts and sweatshirt on.

      She realized she’d left her beach chair in her Jeep and headed back to the parking area. Reaching into the trunk, she heard a low, appreciative whistle. Expecting to turn around, insulted, she found herself staring at Peter Chapman with a Cheshire grin, seated in the passenger side of an SUV. He was wearing sunglasses, but that look said he was ready to start bantering anytime she was.

      “Bet you get whistled at all the time,” he said. “Thought I’d join the ranks.”

      He was so damned cute, she couldn’t resist. Planting her fists on her hips, she said, “Hey, that’s no way for a coworker to behave.”

      “I’m not working yet. So consider me a blatant admirer.”

      She laughed. Ducking her head to see who was driving, she didn’t recognize Peter’s companion.

      He leaned back in his seat. “Cassie Michaels, meet Eric Davidson. Surfer from up-island. Staying at the Oceanside.”

      A blond-haired guy nodded at her. “Hey.”

      She smiled in return, then noticed the surfboards on the roof. “You’re going in the water with your sutures?” she asked Peter.

      He shrugged. “It’s been over forty-eight hours. The salt water will be good for them.”

      She shook her head. “Nurses make the worst patients.”

      He smiled. “So you keep reminding me.”

      She wasn’t sure, but thought she could feel him discreetly checking her out from behind his sunglasses. “Are you finding your way around town okay?”

      “So far, so good, but I’m having trouble finding a place to live.”

      “I have to introduce you to my friend Brian. He’s just finishing renovations on a new duplex.”

      “That would be great.”

      She gestured toward the sand path. “I’m with Doc’s wife, Ellen, and their twin daughters. Stop by later, I’ll introduce you.”

      “You’re off today?”

      She shook her head. “No. Late shift. The girls are practicing for a sand-castle contest. We do this every year to kick off the season.”

      She waved goodbye, feeling the heat of Peter’s stare on her back. Damn it all if she didn’t like the thought of him watching her. Why was she telling herself it was wrong when it felt so right?

      Ellen watched her returning to the blanket. “Why the frown?”

      Cassie placed the chair next to Ellen’s beneath the shade of the umbrella. She pushed her sunglasses onto the bridge of her nose. “Just saw my accident victim.”

      “Peter Chapman? So you’re frowning?”

      She refused to admit what she was thinking. “He’s a bit of a flirt.”

      Ellen smiled. “Is that good or bad?”

      “It would make it easier to work with him if he wasn’t.”

      “I have to meet this guy.”

      “That’s good because I invited him to come by to introduce you.”

      Ellen looked over the top of her sunglasses. “Hmm. The blond-haired guy looks young, so I’d say Peter is the hunky surfer dude with the grin heading straight for us?”

      Cassie followed her gaze. Damn. Damn. Damn. He looked good in motion, surfboard under his arm. Sunglasses. Backpack slung on one shoulder. She made herself sound bored. “Yes, Ellen. That’s him.” She waved him over, aware her tune lightened when she spoke to him. “That was fast.”

      Peter carefully laid his board in the sand. Kneeling, he sat on his heels at the base of the blanket. “I know you won’t be here later when we’re finished in the water, so wanted to stop by now.” He held out a hand to Ellen, “I’m Peter Chapman. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

      Ellen shook his proffered hand. “I’ve