"Megan will be thrilled."

"Where is she?"

"Upstairs watching television."

"Do you want to call her?"

"In a minute." She walked toward the kitchen, and he followed behind. "Have you eaten? I made spaghetti. It's almost ready."

"Sounds good."

She walked over to the stove and stirred the sauce if for no other reason than to keep her hands busy. Sam leaned against one of the counters, watching her. She couldn't remember when he'd just stood and watched her without heading for the table and the newspaper or flipping on the small television they kept in the kitchen cabinet. There had always been distractions between them. Now it was quiet, too quiet.

"I'm sorry, Alli," he said unexpectedly.

She whirled around, spoon in hand. "For what?"

"Being late today, leaving you to do the fish, throwing Tessa in your face."

"Anything else?"

"I'll start with that," he said with a small smile.

"I don't want an apology for-you know."

"Good, because I wasn't going to offer one."

She felt vaguely ticked off at that piece of information, even though she would have been just as offended if he'd said he was sorry. No wonder Sam couldn't understand her. She couldn't understand herself.

"Why weren't you?" she asked, knowing it was the worst possible question.

He stared at her for a long moment. "What do you want from me, Alli?"

"I don't know," she murmured.

"You used to be pretty clear on the subject."

"I used to have tunnel vision. I'm trying to look around in the shadows now and see what I've missed."

"Have you found anything?"

"Only that it appears to be true that you want what you can't have. You weren't this interested in kissing me three months ago."

He took two steps and he was suddenly right in front of her, his hands slipping onto her waist, and when she started to back up, she felt the dials of the stove stab into her back. She was trapped by his body, by his eyes. She swallowed hard.

"I've never not wanted to kiss you," he said somberly, as if he were telling both of them some truth that had just appeared between them.

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why?"

"Why do you want to kiss me? Because you're a man and I'm a woman, and it's convenient?"

"You know that's not it."

"But you still can't say the words."

"We don't need words to communicate. In fact, we're a lot better when we don't talk." He kissed her on the mouth, softly, gently, like he was tasting something precious, something he wanted to linger over, enjoy.

Alli closed her eyes and let it happen. She was tired of fighting Sam, tired of fighting herself. His mouth was warm, as cozy as her kitchen, as delicious as the brownies baking in the oven. He was her home, her family, her life, in every breath that she took. She kissed him back, putting her hand behind his neck so he couldn't change his mind, couldn't pull away. But he didn't even try, and each kiss grew more heated, more needy, more hungry, until their hands grew restless, seeking a satisfaction they couldn't possibly find in the middle of the kitchen.

"This isn't going to work," Sam murmured against her mouth when they finally took a moment to breathe. "The steam from the sauce is curling your hair."

"Is that why I feel so hot?" she asked breathlessly. She stepped away from the stove and brushed her hair off her face. He looked at her in a way so intimate, so personal, she wanted to take his hand and race him upstairs. But upstairs, on their bed, was an eight-year-old girl. "We have to stop doing this."

"Maybe we should just do it, and then see how we feel."

"That's not the answer, Sam."

"Then what is?"

"I don't know," she said in exasperation.

"Then how do you know I'm wrong?"

She shrugged. "I don't. But there's a long tried-and-true tradition of divorcing couples not sleeping together."

The beeper on the stove went off, signaling that the brownies were done. Thank G.o.d. She desperately needed the interruption. As she opened the oven door and took out the brownies, Sam moved back to his position against the far counter.

"I saw your grandmother today. We had a nice chat," he said.

"I stopped by earlier, but she was sleeping. What did she say?"

"She wanted to know if we found the pearl yet."

Alli sighed. "I sure hope we can."

"We have to. She's not going to give up on it."

"I don't understand why she wants it now."

"She didn't tell me, but she seemed in a philosophical sort of mood. Maybe a brush with death does that to you."

"And with the Fourth approaching, she's got her anniversary on her mind. I don't know if William is too thrilled with the reminder of Grams's first love." She gave Sam an impulsive grin. "Those first loves are d.a.m.ned annoying, you know. They just won't stay in the past where they belong."

He smiled. "Most people don't stay where they belong."

"How was your trip with Tessa? You never said."

"You never asked."

"As much as I may regret it, I'm asking now."

"We caught up on what she's been doing. Talked about what happened among the three of us. That kind of thing."

"Did you kiss her?"

He didn't answer for a long moment. Finally, he said, "No matter what I say it will drive you crazy. If I kissed her, you'll be p.i.s.sed. If I didn't kiss her, you'll wonder why. You'll imagine all sorts of wild scenarios that could have caused such a lapse on my part or Tessa's part. You'll wonder if there wasn't a kiss, then was there touching involved? And if I say yes, we'll have to discuss where people's hands were, and it will be midnight before we're done."

"You think you know me so well," she said, although inwardly she was giving him high points for insight.

"I do know you pretty well," he said smugly.

"I know you, too. And if you don't change your att.i.tude, I'll have to tell Tessa some of your dirty little secrets."

"I don't have any secrets."

"Oh, yeah, like you don't check your head every day to see if you've lost any hair, because your father's bald spot grows wider by the minute?"

"Every man in the free world does that."

"And you know every bad knock-knock joke and insist on telling them to me."

"To entertain you."

"And you eat those really strong Altoid mints in the car after you drive through Burger World so Megan and I won't know you gave in to your craving for fast-food onion rings."

"Now, that's. .h.i.tting below the belt," he said, taking a step forward. "I may have to retaliate."

Her heart skipped another beat. "What did you have in mind?"

"I thought you could read my mind."

"I can, and it's not going to happen, Sam." She put up a hand and drew in a breath. "We need to focus here. Do you want to call Megan for dinner while I set the table?"

Before he could do anything, the phone rang. Alli moved over to answer it. "h.e.l.lo?"

"It's Mark Hayworth, Alli," the man said. Alli's body suddenly tensed. She didn't like phone calls from local policemen, especially on rainy nights.

Sam looked at her in concern. "What's wrong?" he asked.

She shook her head. "What can I do for you, Mark?"

"It's more what you can do for yourself. The storm is getting worse. The weather service is predicting twenty-five-foot waves by midnight. The harbor is already taking some big swells, lots of water running down the pier. I think you might want to throw some sandbags in front of your shop doors and make sure Sam's boats are tied down."

"Of course. Is it really going to be that bad of a storm?"

"I hope not, but it's better to be prepared. And I'd do it quickly if I were you; the wind is picking up."

"Thanks," she said, hanging up the phone.

"What did he want?"

"Big waves are hitting the coast. He thinks I should sandbag the shop, maybe board up the windows, and you should make sure your boats are secure."

Sam's eyes grew serious. "I'll go. I can do both our places."

"It will take too long by yourself."

He looked at her with compa.s.sion and an understanding that came from years of living together. "You don't want to go out in this storm."

She didn't. But she also didn't want to risk damage to her shop or Sam's business. "I can do it. But I don't want to take Megan."

"Can she go next door to Judy's?"

"I'll see."

"Alli, I can call Gary or someone to help me."

"By the time you do all that, we could be done."

"You hate the rain."

"I'm a grown-up now, Sam. I can do this."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," Alli said decisively. Within minutes, she'd arranged for Megan to spend the evening with Judy, a middle-aged widow whose youngest child was away at college. "It's all set," she told Sam.

"I'll get Megan."

"Good. I told Judy I'd send the spaghetti and the brownies over with Megan. While you're doing that, I'll get my coat."

Sam caught her by the arm. "It will be all right."

"I just hate leaving Megan alone. It reminds me of me-waiting."

"Do you want to bring her with us?"

Alli hesitated, then shook her head. "No, it's cold and wet, and she'll be all right with Judy. Just promise me we'll come back really fast."

He kissed her on the cheek. "I'll take care of you, Alli."

It sounded like a promise. She wished he meant it for more than just the drive down to the pier.