Free Home at Rose Cottage by Sherryl Woods Page B

lot like mine—right, Jessie?”
    “Uh-huh,” Jessie said, her mouth full. “Daddy burns everything.”
    “Not everything,” he protested indignantly, then shrugged. “I’m great with cereal.”
    Melanie laughed. “Since you have such low expectations, maybe I’ll risk inviting you to dinner.”
    “Tonight?” Jessie asked hopefully. “Daddy was gonna make spaghetti from a can.”
    “I definitely think I can improve on that, if you’d like to stay,” she said, meeting Mike’s gaze. “Maybe real pasta with some garlic bread. Of course, the sauce will be from a jar, but that’s still better than canned spaghetti, right?”
    “Anything’s better than that,” Mike agreed. “But if we’re staying for dinner, then no more cookies, Jessie. You’ll spoil your appetite. Besides, you’ve already had enough sugar for one afternoon.”
    Jessie seemed about to argue, but Mike’s steady gaze never wavered and she backed down.
    “Can I watch TV?” she asked instead.
    Melanie glanced at Mike for permission. At his nod, she took Jessie into the living room and left her happily watching a PBS children’s show.
    “I really only came by to check on you,” Mike said, when Melanie got back to the kitchen. “Not to invite ourselves to dinner.”
    “Believe me, I’m glad of the company,” Melanie told him honestly.
    “Too much time on your hands to think?” he asked.
    “Way too much.”
    “Want to talk about whatever brought you here? You’ve listened to me. I’m willing to return the favor.”
    She shook her head. “It was bad enough wallowing in all that self-pity by myself, I don’t want to inflict it on you. I’d rather have you talk to me. Tell me about your latest project or how you ended up here at the end of the earth. You’re not from around here, are you?”
    “End of the earth?” he inquired. “Isn’t that a little bit of an overstatement?”
    “It’s not Boston.”
    “But apparently Boston hasn’t been all that great to you lately,” he reminded her. “Maybe you should think about giving a place like this a chance, instead of dismissing it out of hand.”
    “I am,” she said. “At least for the short term, but I was asking about you. Were you born here?”
    “No. I came from Richmond. I actually started my business there, but when Linda and I split up, I realized Jessie and I needed to get away, not just to put some distance between us and my ex-wife, but so I wouldn’t be so consumed with work that I couldn’t spend enough time with Jessie.”
    “What made you pick this area?”
    “It’s beautiful. It’s near the water. There’s a lot of building going on, so there’s a need for a good landscape designer. It’s not that far from home, so Jessie can see her grandparents from time to time. It’s been a good fit. I like being part of a small, growing community.”
    “Had you been here before, or did you just drive around till you found a place that suited you?”
    “Actually I have a friend who’s in the nursery business here, Jeff Clayborne.”
    “That was his nursery we went to the other day,” Melanie recalled.
    “Exactly. He was out on a job, or you would have met him.” He gave her a rueful look. “Actually he’s heard all about you.”
    She regarded him with surprise. “Really?”
    “Word travels fast around here. When I saw him Monday, Jeff had already heard about Jessie and me being at the nursery, the ice cream shop and the bookstore with a gorgeous woman. I’m pretty sure he’s up to speed on your entire family history by now, too.”
    “Now, there’s one of the obvious disadvantages of small town living, don’t you think? Everyone knows your business.”
    Mike shrugged. “Seems to me like gossip gets around in a big city, too—at least to your own family and circle of friends and business associates.”
    Melanie thought of how a fear of gossip had sent her scurrying out of Boston and realized he was exactly right. “I guess ‘good’ gossip