Free Sunrise on Cedar Key by Terri Dulong Page A

certainly appealed to me. Besides, I was being neighborly by helping him out, right?
    â€œActually, I’m not that busy. I’m doing well getting the website set up, and I should have that finished by early next week. When were you thinking of going?”
    â€œI thought perhaps this Friday?”
    Damn. The day Chloe was arriving, and I didn’t want to start off on a bad foot with her by not being around when she got here. “Well, uh, that really wouldn’t work for me,” I said, and explained that it was Friday my sister would be arriving.
    â€œOh, that’s right. You had mentioned she was moving here, and I can certainly understand why you should be home to greet her.” He took a sip of wine. After a few moments he said, “Would Thursday be better for you? Do you think you could go with me then?”
    I smiled at him across the table. “Yes, Thursday would be fine, and I’d love to.”
    â€œWonderful. I will pick you up at your house about nine? How would that be?”
    Pick me up? Okay, okay, I know it’s only to go furniture shopping, but still ...
    â€œYes, nine would be great,” I said, and shot him another smile.
    Following dinner, Lucas suggested we have coffee on the outside porch overlooking the water.
    I decided to take a chance and ask more about him.
    â€œSo,” I questioned. “Do you still have relatives in France?”
    â€œWell, my parents are both gone, but yes, I do have aunts, uncles, and cousins in the south of France. I don’t see them very often, but we do still stay in touch. Computers and e-mails are a wonderful invention, are they not?”
    â€œYes, they certainly are.” I decided to get a bit more inquisitive. “Have you ever been married?” I asked, jumping right in.
    Lucas put his head down and began fingering the spoon. For a minute I didn’t think he was going to answer. I should have known better. The French are not like Americans—telling personal things, like the tabloids in our country were famous for.
    â€œI was,” he said quietly. He looked up and his eyes met mine.
    Not only could I read his expressions, I discovered in that moment the pain that was revealed in those eyes, and for one of the few times in my life, I didn’t know what to say.
    â€œDanielle passed away eight years ago.”
    Without even thinking, I reached out and touched his hand. “I’m so sorry. She was so young. Was she ill?” I asked, never thinking he could have lost his wife in death.
    â€œNo, she was not ill. It was an automobile accident, and Danielle was thirty-five when it happened.”
    â€œI’m sorry,” I said again, and now felt bad for bringing up the subject. I also wondered if possibly Lucas had been driving the car and that accounted for some of the pain I saw in his eyes. That and grief, of course.
    â€œHow about you?” he now questioned. “Have you been married?”
    I shook my head. “No.” I then surprised myself by mentioning a little about Beau. “But I did have a long-term relationship years ago. I had just graduated college. I was working in our family antique shop in Brunswick. That’s where I met him. He came in to make a purchase. We were together a little over four years.”
    â€œI see. So it was not to be, this relationship?”
    â€œNo, I suppose it wasn’t.” I reached up to push a strand of hair away from my face and shrugged. “I was young when we met, only twenty-two. And much younger than he was. Beau was twelve years older than me.”
    â€œThis age difference? Do you think that accounted for the problem ?”
    â€œOh, no. Not at all. It was many other things. By the way,” I asked, now wanting to change the subject, “can I ask your age?”
    Lucas laughed. “I am forty-six. Am I an older man to you?”
    I smiled. “Not by my standards. I’m thirty-six, and I’ve