Free Small-Town Hearts by Ruth Logan Herne Page A

always guarding the bottom line, and having that space vacant was killing her.”
    â€œRespect for bottom-line efficiency is something she and I have in common,” Danny noted. He indicated the unique mercantile with an angled gaze. “And I was actually able to put that fruit to good use. Accidents happen, right?”
    â€œInevitably. Although often with unexpected results.” One look at her face made Danny realize that little got past Megan’s mother. From the unhidden glint in her eye, he was pretty sure she saw right through him and his motives. Most of them, anyway.
    â€œThings have a way of working out, don’t they?” He sent her a grin, then noted Ben’s hat with a pointed look. “You a real fan?”
    â€œI love J-J-Jeter. He’s my man!”
    Danny grinned. Everyone loved Jeter, regardless of team affiliation. It was an unwritten rule of baseball because the Yankees captain epitomized sportsmanship. “You ever been to a game, Ben?”
    â€œA—a Yankees game?”
    â€œYes.”
    Ben shook his head so hard a little spittle sprayed. Danny wiped the spot away without a second thought and casually ignored Mrs. Russo’s look of concern.
    â€œI’ve never been to—to—Yankee Stadium, but we see them on TV. Dad and Mom have cable.”
    Danny laughed out loud. “They do, huh? I might have tocome over and catch some games because your sister isn’t wired for cable yet. A fact I didn’t know when I leased the apartment. I’ve already called and ordered it, though, because eight weeks with no baseball won’t cut it.”
    Mrs. Russo frowned. “I can’t believe she hasn’t had that put in. Megan tends to take frugal to extremes. I’m glad you ordered it, Mr. Graham. It makes the rental more attractive to others in the long run. And do come over to the house and watch the games until they run cable to your apartment. We’d be honored to have you.”
    He met her smile and matched it. “I’d love to. They’re playing at home Saturday night. Is that good for you guys? And what can I bring?”
    â€œJust bring yourself,” Megan’s mother assured him. “We’ve got plenty of snacks, and Megan’s dad can grill hot dogs. Then we can pretend we’re at the stadium.”
    â€œThat’s stellar seating right there,” Danny agreed, grinning. “Thanks so much for the invite. I’ll be there.”
    â€œAnd bring Meg, even if she tries to resist,” her mother added before she resumed their walk. “She’ll most likely have a list of things she thinks she needs to do with festival season upon us, but hopefully you can convince her otherwise.”
    Her smile said more than her words.
    Pretty sure he’d found an ally, an important one at that, Danny nodded. “I’ll do my best, ma’am.”

Chapter Eight
    H annah entered the candy shop kitchen on Saturday morning and waved a slip of paper Meg’s way. “A note for you.”
    â€œFor me?”
    Hannah raised her eyes skyward. “Your name’s Megan, right?”
    â€œI believe it is,” Meg quipped back, her curiosity piqued. Caught at a critical moment in caramel making, Meg sent a look of frustration to Hannah. “Who’s it from?”
    Hannah held the note up to the light, scanned the contents, then grinned. “Cute guy next door.”
    â€œHe signed it ‘from the cute guy next door’?” Meg wondered out loud.
    â€œNo, he signed it ‘Danny.’ The embellishments were all me.”
    â€œWhat’s it say?” Meg eyed the caramel mixture, decided it needed a minute more and hiked a brow, trying to stem her impatience. No luck.
    â€œYou can’t wait ’til you’re done with that and read it yourself?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œAh-hah.” Hannah’s smile suggested too much or maybe just enough, Meg wasn’t