She shook her head. That was silly. She’d certainly remember meeting a man like Adam Benton.
And yet the feeling nagged at her. There was something about him.
Well, she’d have the next four weeks to figure it out.
The thought wasn’t very comforting.
Her new tenant had been gone less than ten minutes when the front door of the shop opened again.
“Now, that was a fine lookin’ man if I ever saw one,” Pearly Gates, Perry Square’s version of a town crier, said as she strode into the shop. “He met up with some woman and baby in the park after he left here. The three of them got into an SUV and drove off.”
“That’s nice,” Lee said, not knowing what else Pearly was after, but knowing there would be something.
“So who is he?” Pearly, a spry, grey-haired woman with a touch of the south in her voice, pulled a stool up to the glass case that held Lee’s jewelry and waited for her explanation.
“Why would you think he was anything except a customer?” Lee asked, rather than answering.
“A customer doesn’t spend nigh on twenty minutes pacin’ up and down the block. He paused in front of your door at least half a dozen times and I’d think, there he goes, he’s goin’ in. But he wouldn’t. He’d just walk down the block again. Looked to me like he was workin’ up his nerve.”
“I can’t imagine why. Maybe he was just trying to get a feel for the neighborhood.”
“Ha,” Pearly said, not a bit convinced. “He didn’t look like someone coming from the police station, and he barely slowed his gait when he walked by the Five and Dine. Misty says today’s a cinnamon-roll day. Who can resist slowin’ up to smell that? No, he was working up his nerve for something. And I want to know what it was.”
“How do you know what’s going on over here? I’m across the park from Snips and Snaps for goodness sake. Do you have a telescope over there or something?”
“Good eyes. It’s genetic. My great-grandmother Hazel lived to be ninety-eight and never needed glasses. She claimed she didn’t need hearing aids either, but the woman was deaf as a post. Did I ever tell you about the time she—”
The shop’s door opened again and a couple came in, interrupting Pearly’s story. Which was sort of a relief as Pearly’s stories could easily take an entire afternoon for the telling, what with all the twists, turns and tangents she put in them.
“Welcome to Singer’s Treasures,” Lee called out. “Let me know if I can assist you in any way.”
“Thank you,” the woman said.
“Well, Pearly, I guess that story’s going to have to wait.”
“Fine. You can dodge the story of how Hazel lost her bloomers on Main Street, but only if you tell me about the mystery man.”
Lee should have just admitted defeat the first time Pearly had asked. To the best of her knowledge, no one had ever dodged her for long.
“His name’s Adam Benton. He rented my cottage.” Again, a feeling of familiarity swept over her as she mentioned his name.
She had to be imagining a connection. After all, what woman in her right mind wouldn’t want a connection to a gorgeous man like Adam Benton?
“He’s staying out at your place?” Pearly asked.
Lee could just imagine how Pearly could distort that particular slant on the story, so she quickly tried to set it to right. “Not my place, the other cottage.”
“Well, well, well.” Pearly studied her a moment, then broke out in a huge grin. “Well, I do like the sound of that. Another Perry Square match could be in the making.”
“You said he had a woman and a baby in the park. He’s probably married and bringing the whole family out.”
“Nah. He didn’t touch the lady once. He just nodded at her when he came out of here. I don’t think there’s anything between them.”
“They probably were just fighting, or maybe she had all she could do to handle the baby.”
“Or maybe it was his sister and niece, and he’s single. I like the sound of a nice-looking, single man living with you.”
“Not with me, next to me.” Pearly looked as if she were going to argue, so Lee continued, “Don’t get any ideas, Pearly Gates. Just because you’re in love, doesn’t mean I will be. I’ve tried a relationship in the past, and it’s obvious I don’t have what it takes. Plus, I like my life just as it is.”
Pearly had come back from a trip to Europe with a new boyfriend. Not quite a new boyfriend. An old boyfriend she’d rediscovered. Their story was the talk of the Square.
Pearly had gone to a small European country, Eliason, for a wedding, and had discovered her childhood sweetheart had been an ambassador to the country for years before he’d retired. They’d picked up their tumultuous relationship and when Pearly had come back to Perry Square, the ambassador had followed.
“Sure, you love your life,” Pearly said, still grinning. “I loved mine as well. But even though finding my Buster has changed it, it’s a change for the better.”
“Pearly—” Lee started to warn her, but at that moment her customers came up and asked about a painting. While she answered them, Pearly sneaked out.
The coward.
Lee didn’t even want to hear the rumors that would be flying up and down the square before tomorrow’s breakfast.
Pearly Gates would make a mountain out of this molehill.
Another match?
Ha.
Perry Square might have had a number of matches of late, but Lee Singer wasn’t about to join the ranks. She was wise enough to learn from her mistakes.
There was absolutely no way she was matching with anyone.
Not even if her new tenant was one of the best-looking men she’d seen in a long time.
The next day, Adam Benton got out of his SUV and breathed deeply, then exhaled slowly. He studied the twin cottages. They looked exactly as he remembered them. Two one-story buildings with well-weathered clapboard siding and huge front porches complete with rockers and tables.
As he drank in the sight, he felt as if he were coming home, which was ridiculous. Home was New York.
This?
The cottage just outside Erie in Northeast Pennsylvania was just a place where he used to live near this girl he used to know.
And that girl, Mary Eileen Singer, had never really liked him much.
He smiled and acknowledged she had every right not to like him. He’d tormented her with all the gusto a young boy could.
A loud squawk from the back of the SUV announced that Jessie was ready to be set free.
“Hey, there, kiddo,” he said as he worked the myriad of hooks and buckles that locked the baby into the car seat.
Actually, now that Jessie was mobile, he should probably start thinking of her as a toddler.
“Here we go,” he said as he lifted her out of the car.
Jessie immediately arched her back, her nonverbal cue that she didn’t want to be held. He set her down and she squealed with delight.
“Don’t eat the grass,” he warned as her chubby fingers grabbed a large hunk and started pulling.
She giggled, not the least bit intimidated. “What on earth am I going to do with you?”
That’s