Why should touching a man's arm make her all edgy? An arm was certainly an innocuous enough body part. She studied Chase as he walked around the front of the truck. His broad shoulders strained against the cotton of his shirt and muscles rippled under his sleeves. Okay, there was nothing innocuous about any part of the man.

"Do you like seafood?" he asked as he hopped into the truck.

The truck's spacious cab suddenly shrunk, just like the front seat of her car had the night she'd driven him home. He really did have a way of consuming space, and it wasn't just his size, but his very presence. It was the same presence that had allowed him, the bad boy from the wrong side of town, to also be one of the most popular kids in school. He made an impression. He had always made an impression on Abby. So why should she be surprised to find things any different now?

"Seafood?" he asked again, and Abby realized she was just staring at him, trying to control her erratic breathing and pounding heart.

"Yes, seafood is great."

Chase started the engine, which sputtered and coughed in Helen's usual cantankerous way.

"I figured it was a fairly safe choice," he said. "Growing up on the coast of Maine makes seafood sort of a staple."

Abby didn't respond. She was, once again, having a hard time concentrating on his words, because now his woodsy scent was surrounding her and wreaking havoc on her breathing again. This man had the potential to cause her severe oxygen deprivation. "How did you know my sister was reading?" Abby asked, after she had her crazed senses under control. Chase shot her a quick glance and then returned his gaze to the road. "What?" "Ellie. You knew she was reading, but you couldn't possibly have seen her from the kitchen door." Chase looked at her again. A muscle in his jaw twitched, and he tightened, then relaxed his grip on the steering wheel. "Well, she's a librarian. So I just figured she was reading." Abby supposed Chase's explanation made sense, but his reaction to the question seemed a bit odd. "Plus," he added, "every time I see her she has a book in her hand." That was true about Ellie, and theywere neighbors so he probably did see her with a book every now and then. "Yes, Ellie is a book junkie. She always has been. But then so am I." Chase nodded, and although he didn't do anything that Abby could actually put her finger on, she got the impression that he still felt uncomfortable. "So, where does a cool person go in Millbrook?" Abby asked, hoping she might break the tension in the air. It did. "Well, there are several cool places," Chase informed her with one of his easy grins. "You know, the Ledges, the parking lot of the Dairy Palace-but the older set of cool cats go to the Parched Dolphin." "The Parched Dolphin?" Abby said with a touch of skepticism. "I know, I know, it sounds a little strange. But they serve a great stuffed haddock." He cast her a teasing look. "All cool folks say so." Abby laughed, some of the nervousness leaving her. "Well, the Parched Dolphin does sound more appealing than the Poached Dolphin." "Or the Beached Dolphin," Chase said. "Then you'd have to worry." Abby settled back against the seat, listened to the loud roar of Helen's engine, and breathed in the wonderful scent of Chase. She felt happy. An emotion she hadn't expected to feel in Millbrook. Maybe it would be a nice thing to have Chase as a friend during her stay here. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. She wouldn't deny that she was also attracted to him, but all they could have was friendship. And she planned to enjoy that.

Chase pulled the truck up to the curb in front of a restaurant Abby didn't recognize. The building itself wasn't new, as its grayed, sea-weathered walls revealed, but Abby couldn't recall if the place had been a restaurant while she had lived here. In fact, she couldn't remember the charming little building at all.

"The food's much better than the atmosphere would lead you to believe," Chase said, following her gaze.

But before she could reply that the place looked very nice, he had gotten out of the truck and was heading around to her side of the vehicle.

She felt a bit silly waiting for him to open her door, but she didn't want to appear impolite by not accepting his courteous gesture. And to be honest, she rather liked the attention. It made her feel pampered.

As they walked up the restaurant's steps, Abby noticed the pub-like sign swinging over the door. It bore the nameThe Parched Dolphin in ornate golden lettering with one of the sea animals cheerfully holding a frosty mug of ale in his finned grip.

"I don't know," Abby said slowly. "If people come here to drink like fish, they're in the wrong place."

Chase followed her gaze up to the sign and then cast her a confused look. "Why do you say that?"

"Because," Abby said with a cheesy grin, "dolphins aren't fish, they're mammals."

Chase blinked, then a deep chuckle escaped him. "You know, Abby, that was just bad."

Abby sighed. "Is the hope of being cool futile?"

"I can only do what I can do." Humor twinkled in his eyes, making his icy blue irises shimmer. He opened the pub's door and ushered her inside.

The interior of the restaurant was just as appealing as the outside. The first thing to grab her attention was the buttery aroma of broiled seafood that filled the air. One side of the room was sectioned into booths with antique blown glass buoys hanging over the tables, refracting blue and green light on the walls and ceiling. Several round tables filled the middle section of the floor, and the far wall sported a long, old-fashioned bar made of shiny dark wood and brass.

Even though it was a Monday night, the place was quite busy. Folks, sharing a few drinks and some friendly banter, occupied most of the stools at the bar. Two of the tables were taken as well.

Abby felt the pressure of one of Chase's beautiful hands at the small of her back. The touch caused her to stiffen, not because it was unpleasant-it was far from that-but because it was unexpected. Chase must have misinterpreted her reaction, because he promptly removed it and pointed to a booth in the corner.

"Does that look okay?"

"Great," Abby breathed and followed him. She couldn't help casting a glance down at the hand that had just touched her. Beautiful hands. Had she ever, in all her life, noticed another human's hands? Did Nelson have nice hands? Did Nelson even have hands?

Chase stopped at the table, and it took Abby a moment to realize that he was waiting for her to sit.

"Where did the town bad boy learn such wonderful manners?" she asked as she slid into the booth. Chase sat across from her. He paused before he answered, and Abby fully expected she had unintentionally offended him again, but instead his laid-back grin appeared.

"That's a good question." He appeared to contemplate the question, then he shrugged. "I guess I must have taught myself." Abby smiled. "Well, you did a very nice job." "Thank you, ma'am." His smile deepened, as did his dimple. Abby's own grin widened in response, and for a few moments they just gazed at each other. Suddenly, Abby didn't feel so nervous and out of sorts. Suddenly, she felt almost comfortable with Chase. If she overlooked the occasional rapid heartbeat and shortness of breath. "Hey, Chase." A man wearing a bartender's apron over his wide girth appeared beside them, jarring them out of their companionable silence.

"Hey, Paul," Chase said. "How are you?"

"Can't complain, can't complain." Paul placed menus in front of them.

"You remember Abby Stepp, don't you?" Chase asked, casting a smile toward her that sent warm

tingles down her spine. Paul frowned at her for a moment, and then a broad smile split his round face. "Well, I'll be damned!" he said, wiping his hands on his apron, then offering one of the beefy appendages to her. "I'll be damned," he repeated, as his huge hand pumped hers up and down repeatedly. "It's real nice to see you again. You in town long?"

"No," Abby said, overwhelmed by the bartender's enthusiastic greeting. She had no idea who the huge man was. Paul who? "Just a few months." Paul nodded, his wide grin revealing startlingly white and even teeth. He turned toward the bar. "Hey, Lynn, bring over a round of two of my special brews." He turned back to Chase and Abby. "On the house." "Thanks, Paul," Chase said, then watched Abby as though her reaction was important to him. "Thanks," Abby said too, although she didn't think she did a very good job keeping the bewilderment from her voice. Chase frowned. Apparently, she had done something offensive again. "Well, enjoy your meal. And great to see you again, Abby." Paul went back to tend bar. The woman Paul had called Lynn approached, carrying two giant mugs filled to the brim with a dark amber liquid. She set down the drinks, somehow managing not to spill any of it on the polished tabletop.

"Hey, Chase." Her two-word greeting held volumes of innuendo.

But Chase didn't seem to notice the waitress's thinly veiled interest. "Hi, Lynn. What's the catch of the day?"

Abby had the distinct impression that Lynn would have liked to offer herself as the catch. But she simply answered the question. "Haddock and lobster."

"Do you need time to look over the menu?" Chase asked Abby.

"Please."

Lynn gave Abby an appraising look, seemed rather unimpressed, smiled at Chase, and then left.

Abby watched her go into a back room behindthe bar that must have been the kitchen.

"Did you try the beer? It's pretty good-brewed right here," Chase said.

"Who is Paul?"

Chase set down his beer and studied her for a moment. "Paul Cormier."

Abby cast a look across the bar at the hulking figure filling a pitcher from the tap. "That's Paul Cormier?"

"Ten years can change a person."

Abby continued to stare at Paul. It wasn't so much that he had changed. Sure, he was heavier than he'd been in high school, but he'd always been a big guy. It was the fact that he had genuinely seemed pleased to see her. He'd rarely ever spoken to her throughout their entire childhood, yet now he acted like they had been friends.

"Does he own this place?"

Chase nodded. "Opened it about four years ago, I guess."

Abby was impressed. From what she remembered, Paul had been fairly intelligent but lazy. He obviously

wasn't lazy now. The Parched Dolphin was a booming little business.

Abby flipped open her menu. And the food looked very good.

"You already know what you're ordering?" she asked, when she noticed that Chase hadn't even

opened his menu.

He pushed the folded menu toward the edge of the table. "I always get the special."

Abby had the odd sensation that she had somehow offended him again, but she couldn't imagine how.

Perhaps she was being oversensitive.

"Have you had this appetizer?" she asked, pointing to the first item on the menu.

Chase hesitated, then pulled his menu back in front of him and opened it. "The scallops?" he finally asked.

"No, the stuffed mushrooms."

"Oh yeah," he said quickly. "Yeah, they're good."

Abby knew it didn't make any sense, but she could swear that Chase was actually bothered by the menu. Maybe locals didn't use the menu. Maybe it was cool to have it memorized.

"Chase, you old coot!"

Abby looked up to see who was calling to Chase. Unlike Paul, she recognized this man instantly. It was Tommy Leavitt.

"Tommy, what are you doing here on a Monday night?" Chase said.

"Getting a bite to eat and a brewski or two." Tommy gave them both a conspiratorial look. "Becky and the girls are over at Bangor for the night with her folks, so I can sneak out and have a little fun. Are you going to introduce me to your lady friend?"

Abby frowned. Maybe everyone else in Millbrook could appear happy to see the eldest "ugly Stepp sister" again, but there was no way that Tommy Leavitt could. He had been the bane of her school days, and she doubted he could have changed much in his adulthood. If his comment about his wife and kids was any indication, he was still a creep.

"This is Abby Stepp."

Abby waited for the sarcastic remark, the digging barb, but none came. Instead there was a flash of surprise and then a smile that revealed that he still hadn't gotten his overlapping front teeth fixed. "Abby Stepp," he said with a shake of his head. "I haven't seen you in a dog's age. How have you been?"

Abby couldn't answer. How could this man stand in front of her and seem pleased to see her again-after all the hurtful and cruel things he had said?

If Chase thought Abby had been appalled to see Paul, it was mild compared to her reaction to Tommy.

She paled. It made her brown eyes appear huge.

Could dislike actually cause a person to become physically ill? Because she honestly looked like she was going to either pass out or vomit.

Tommy frowned. He might not be the most observant guy around, but he obviously noticed Abby's dismay too.

"You remember me, don't ya? Tommy Leavitt."

"I remember you." Abby's steely voice was at odds with her wan expression.

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't," Tommy said in his friendly manner, although the wrinkles in his brow showed that he was confused by Abby's behavior. "I wasn't nearly the popular fella that Chase

here was. And I certainly wasn't the brain you were." Chase watched Abby's reaction. She stared at him with eyes that were aloof and hard. Chaseremembered that look. It was the same one she wore every day during high school. A look that said,I'mbetter than you, so don't waste my time .

A nervous chuckle escaped Tommy. "I reckon if I'd had your brains, I'd be doin' something a little more glamorous than fixing cars."

"I suppose you would," Abby said coldly, before taking a sip of her beer.

Chase stared at Abby for a second, shocked she could say something so callous. Maybe, over the years, she had learned to actually say the things her eyes had only hinted at. Maybe she really did consider herself better than the lowly residents of Millbrook.

Tommy stood silent for a moment, then said to them both in a low voice, "Well, good to see you. Chase, see you later."

Chase nodded. "Have a good night. Say hi to Becky for me."

"Will do." Tommy shot Abby another hurt look and then went to sit at the bar.

Chase turned his attention back to Abby, who was now reading her menu as if Tommy had never approached them.

"Is that how folks treat each other in Boston?"

"Excuse me?" Bewilderment crossed Abby's face.

"How you just treated Tommy?"