"You aren't angry, are you?"

She shook her head.

"Can I see you tomorrow?"

She looked at him, an expression akin to relief in her eyes. "Yes."

He smiled, and she offered a timid smile back.

"Damn, I wish I wasn't reformed," he muttered, and then kissed her mouth quickly.

When they parted, Abby still had an uncertain tilt to her lips, but she managed another smile. "I should go."

Chase stood and held out his hand. She accepted it and they walked to the door, their fingers linked.

"Good night," she said softly, as she moved out on to the porch.

He didn't release her hand, and she turned to look at him.

He leaned out and stole another swift kiss, wishing he could just scoop her into his arms and take her up to his bed. But if he ever did make love to her, he didn't want mere to be any doubts between them. When he pulled away, she seemed dazed. But then she squeezed his fingers and tugged them out of his grasp. She rushed down the steps and across the lawn.

At the edge of the street, she paused and turned back to him. "Chase?"

"Yes?" His voice sounded rusty.

"Would you go to the fund-raiser with me?"

"I'd love to."

She offered him a tiny smile and dashed across the street.

Even alter Chase heard Abby's back door bang shut, he leaned against his door frame, letting the fresh night air cool his overheated body and clear his jumbled thoughts.

What was he getting involved in? He wasn't happy with the idea of being anyone's second choice, but damn, he wanted Abby. Could he be satisfied to be with her whatever way she wanted him?

He took a deep breath and then went inside. What did he expect from her anyway? She was a brilliant scientist. He was a carpenter. She had her doctorate. By the grace of a few sympathetic teachers, he was lucky to have his high school diploma. She lived in the city. He lived in a town that was about as small as a place could get.

But when he looked at her, none of that seemed to matter. He wanted her. More than any woman he'd ever met.

Chapter 15.

The grating buzz of the alarm clock jarred Abby out of her fitful sleep. She whacked the irritating device several times until the horrible noise stopped, then she buried her head under the covers.

She wanted to stay in bed forever.

Last night,ugh , last night. It was too humiliating to even think about. But unfortunately, she couldn't seem to concentrate on anything else.

She had done it again. And, worst of all, this time she was sober. She threw herself at Chase. He had to be thinking she was the world's flakiest tramp. Both times, he had handled it with great composure. Of course, he was probably used to crazy women propositioning him.

The worst part of the scenario was that he thought she was just using him to make herself feel better about Nelson's rejection. That wasn't the case at all. She wanted to be with Chase.

During the endless hours of the night, she had come to the realization that she just didn't have the feelings for Nelson that she should have. She was trying to resuscitate a relationship that had been dead for a long, long time.

She planned to phone Nelson and tell him they should end things. She didn't think he would be either surprised or upset. In fact, she suspected Nelson felt the same way.

But there was only one way to find out.

She rose and headed downstairs. In the living room, she paused and listened. She didn't want Ellie to hear this conversation. The house was quiet.

Abby sat on the couch and dialed Nelson's number. To her surprise, he answered on the first ring.

"Abby, you just caught me on the way out the door."

"Sorry, but we need to talk."

He sighed. "Abigail, if this is about me not coming up there, well, it's simply impossible."

"No, it's not. Well, it is, but..." How did she say this? "Think it's time for us to call it quits."

There was a pause.

"It isn't working, is it?"

Abby was shocked by his candidness. "No, Nelson, it isn't."

There was another pause.

"Are you okay?" Abby asked.

"Yes," he said. "It's not a total shock. I suspected when you decided to go to Maine that we were headed in this direction."

"I didn't."

"Listen, Abigail, I have to go."

"Are you okay?"

Dead air.

"I will be. I always have my work."

For the first time, Abby realized that Nelson was hiding from the world just as she had been. "Keep in touch, okay?"

"Okay," he agreed, but she knew he probably wouldn't "Bye, Abby."

"Good-bye." Abby hung up the phone.

She had done it. She and Nelson were no more. She felt sad, but not as sad as she would have suspected. If anything, most of her sadness was related to the fact that she didn't feel worse. But Nelson was right; they had started their breakup when she came back to Millbrook. She hadn't seen it, but it was true.

She looked at the phone and took a deep breath. She really hoped that one day Nelson would find something beyond his research. She did wish him happiness.

She wandered into the kitchen and rummaged around for some breakfast After making a piece of toast and some tea, she sat at the table and reflected on her decision.

She knew she'd done the right thing with Nelson, but it didn't solve her other dilemma. Her overwhelming attraction to Chase.

When they had kissed last night, her mind had gone to mush. For the first time in her life, she wasn't thinking. She was only feeling. The touch of his hands, the brush of his tongue with hers, the wicked sensation of his mouth on her breast. She had never experienced anything so arousing. And she wanted more.

Abby did believe Chase was aroused by her. But she suspected he was more interested in a good time, rather than a real relationship.

Part of Abby found that idea very intriguing. She'd never had a fling. She'd only been with Nelson. But going from Nelson to Chase was like going from a high school biology class straight into a graduate seminar on single molecule detection of DNA hybridization and protein-DNA binding.

She got up and put her plate and cup in the sink. Even if Nelson had been the most amazing lover on earth-and she hated to be unkind, but he hadn't been-he couldn't have prepared her for her reaction to Chase. Just a single look, a single touch, and she was on fire.

Lord, she wanted Chase.

She was in Millbrook for three, maybe four more months. Then she would go back to Boston. It was the perfect timing for an affair with Chase. She believed he would agree to it.

Her only real concern was... could she spend the summer with a man like Chase and just leave with her heart intact?

Even knowing the answer to that question, there was no way she was going to miss this chance of a lifetime.

When Abby entered the small building on the corner of West Street and Oak, the last person she expected to see was Summer-Ann. But the woman sat behind a paper-cluttered dark wood desk and appeared to be quite at home there. Her feet were up on the corner of the desk, and she was chatting animatedly on the phone. At least, until Abby entered the office.

"Candy, I'll have to call you back." Summer-Ann sat up straight in the padded desk chair and dropped the receiver into the cradle. She regarded Abby with narrowed eyes like a sleek Siamese cat sizing up a scruffy stray. "May I help you?"

"Hi," Abby greeted, trying to keep the discomfort from her voice. "I'm supposed to be meeting Chase here."

"Did he tell you to meet him here?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?" she asked in a condescending way that stated she thought Abby had just dreamed the invitation.

"Yes. I spoke with him earlier this afternoon."

Summer-Ann shrugged. "Well, he isn't here yet. You'll have to wait."

Abby nodded. Like that wasn't what she intended to do. Summer-Ann did have the ability to make her feel uncomfortable, but she didn't have the ability to drive her away.

Still, seeing Chase again alter their little make-out session on his sofa was going to be awkward enough without Summer-Ann practically hissing in the background.

Abby moved to sit down on the rust-colored tweed loveseat that was against the far wall. There was an end table beside the sofa, layered with magazines. She picked up one, but didn't look at it, instead examining Chase's small office. The desk where Summer-Ann sat took up a good portion of the room. A drafting table sat in the corner behind Summer-Ann, and there was a door behind her sporting a poster of Chase's construction logo. She wandered over to the frames on the wall, near the front door. They were awards of recognition from Mill-brook Elementary School, and a nursing home and even Millbrook Town Hall.

The door opened, and Chase hurried in. Abby got the distinct impression that he had hoped to beat her there. Perhaps he was worried that Summer-Ann wouldn't keep her claws sheathed. She had, but Abby suspected it was only a matter of time before the blonde lost her cool.

"Hi." His slight breathlessness conjured images of last night's kiss.

"Hi."

"Have you been here long?"

"No, just a few minutes."

"I almost sent her away," Summer-Ann said. "You rarely come here at this time of day."

"That is true. Listen," he looked to Abby, "do you want to walk over to Eddie's Diner and get a cup of coffee or something?"

Abby nodded. "Sure." She got the feeling he wasn't any more eager to have a conversation in front of Summer-Ann than she was.

As they crossed the street toward the old diner, Abby noticed Summer-Ann stood in the office's bay window watching them.

"I didn't realize Summer-Ann works for you."

Chase let out a dry laugh. "Yes, she does. I hope she was well behaved. Summer can be a bit difficult at times."

"She was fine. As long as I didn't make direct eye contact or any sudden movements."

Chase laughed again, this time the sound rich and full of amusement. "It seems you understand her very well."

They reached the restaurant, and Chase held the door for her as she entered. Eddie's Diner was straight out of the fifties with marbled linoleum floors and Formica-topped tables. Each of the booths even had its own personal jukebox.

Abby slid into the booth closest to the door, the red vinyl creaking under her weight. Chase slipped into the other side. And then they simply sat there, both uncertain what to say.

A woman approached the table, her gray hair piled high on her head like a beehive made of old wool.

"Chase, honey-sweetie, what can I get you, dear?"

"Hi, Sandy. I'll just have a coffee." He looked toward Abby.

"A coffee would be great."

The waitress nodded, and wandered off, the cloying scent of hairspray and the loud smacking of gum following in her wake.

"Is that Sandy Arsenault?"

"Yep."

Abby cast another quick glance at the woman. "I thought she was old when we were in high school.