Giving pedicab tours would be great exercise. She needed to firm up. Dune was solid as a wall.

"The pedicabs," she decided on the spot.

"Good choice and good luck."

She'd send her sister-in-law Shaye a text. Shaye would schedule her training. There was a historical pamphlet to memorize. Sophie planned to ad-lib a little, too.

The remainder of the morning crawled by. She dusted, swept, and cleaned the mirrors until the lunch hour rolled around. She wasn't hungry, so she decided to take a walk. The sun was not her friend. She borrowed a nylon Windbreaker and floppy hat from Jen.

She stepped onto the boardwalk and immediately bumped into Mac James. "Sweet Sophie," he greeted, giving her a hug. "Good to see you."

"I've been watching you all morning."

"I've been running errands."

"You've done nothing but eat."

"So you say."

"So I know." She brushed powdered sugar from his cheek.

"Doughnuts," he said, before asking her what was really on his mind. "Anyone else see me?"

"Like who? Randy?"

He blew out a breath. "Don't make me beg, Soph."

She took pity on him. "Jenna's been working in the storeroom."

His face fell. "Shit, I've walked my ass off for nothing."

"You could've come inside."

"She would've swept me out with a broom."

"A distinct possibility." Or maybe not. Sophie glanced at the front window of the shop and saw Jen peering out. Fearing she'd been caught, she pulled back before Mac could see her.

He ran his hand through his hair, spiked one side. "Dune called a few minutes ago," he told her. "There are a couple of glitches at camp. He won't get back until tomorrow."

Good to know. She slowly exhaled the breath it felt like she'd been holding the entire time he'd been gone.

"He asked me to keep you company," Mac informed her. "So, what's up?"

"I'm going for a walk."

"I have a few more steps in me."

"Good. Let's head to the pier."

"I thought you were afraid of the Gulf."

"I like looking at the water," she confessed. "I'm just not ready to get my feet wet."

She'd gotten plenty wet the night she'd jumped in her pool to save Dune. Yet the ocean was another matter entirely. It didn't have cement sides or a handrail.

They took off down the boardwalk. Several female sunbathers stopped Mac for his autograph. He charmed each one, but he didn't plan to hook up. That spoke volumes to Sophie. Whether he'd admit it or not, he was into Jen.

Dodging fishermen and tourists, they soon reached the pier. Sophie relaxed and enjoyed the sights. The merry-go-round circled to a lively Hop-Scotch Polka. Those on the roller coaster raised their arms high on the downward slant of the track. The bumper cars beeped with each knock. The arcade amusements drew kids of all ages. Scents of cotton candy, candied apples, and fried Oreos sweetened the air.

Mac slowed beside a metal cart selling hot dogs. "Weenie?" he asked her.

Sophie laughed. She couldn't help herself.

He grinned. "Your mind's in the gutter."

"My thoughts are pure."

"Hang around me," he warned, "and you'll step off the curb." He then ordered three hot dogs. "Dune Cates's account," he told the vendor.

They moved beyond the line of hungry customers. He broke off a piece of hot dog and fed her a bite. She wasn't hungry, but he insisted that she eat something. The bun was steamed and the hot dog juicy.

Food drew her thoughts to Marisole, her family's gourmet chef. Mari was amazing in the kitchen, but it was time Sophie tried her own hand at cooking. "I'm going to make dinner tonight," she said, more to herself than to Mac.

"I can cook," Mac surprised her by saying.

"You mean cook beyond opening a can of soup and heating it?"

He put his hand over his heart. "You wound me, babe. No one makes meat loaf better than I do. And I memorized my grandma's peanut butter cookie recipe when I was ten."

"I can't picture you puttering around the kitchen."

"I can putter with the best of them." He looked down at her. "Invite me to dinner."

"You're invited." She paused. "What can I make?"

"Mashed potatoes are easy."

Sophie nodded. She'd do her best. She glanced around and noticed they'd reached the end of the pier. She crossed to the railing and looked out over the Gulf. The waves were high. Small fishing boats bobbed in the distance. Local surfers claimed the shoreline. The sky had darkened, and only a smattering of sunbathers remained. It would soon rain.

"Shall we head back?" Mac asked once he'd finished the last bite of his bun.

She peeked at her watch. "I took over an hour for lunch."

"Get a move on." He hustled her long. "You could get fired."

"I'm volunteering, silly man."

They parted ways at Crabby Abby's General Store. "See you at five," he called after her.

The man apparently liked to eat early.

The atmosphere in Three Shirts had turned quiet on Sophie's return. She hung up her windbreaker and floppy hat, then looked in the mirror above the storeroom sink. She'd forgotten to apply sunscreen. Her nose was red.

A new shipment had arrived while she was out. Jenna unpacked, while Sophie stacked the shirts. Randy broke down the corrugated boxes, then tossed them in the Dumpster.

"How was your walk?" Jen asked, finally breaking the silence.

"I had company."

"So I noticed."

Sophie raised an eyebrow. So she was right. Jen had seen Mac through the window. "We walked the length of the pier."

"Lucky for you it was overcast and not too hot."

Clearing her throat, Sophie said, "Dune's out of town. He asked Mac to keep me company. We're cooking dinner together."

"Mac cooks?" Jen was doubtful. "He looks more like a take-out or deli man to me."

"His specialty is meat loaf."

"Hamburger in Corning Ware is easy enough."

"Want to make it a dinner party?" Sophie offered, hoping Jen would join them.

Jenna gave it some thought. "Thanks for the invite, but I'm quitting Mac. He makes me crazy."

"He's definitely an acquired taste."

"Bittersweet," Jen said beneath her breath.

Sophie heard her nonetheless. She wished for a way to bring Mac and Jenna together. There was something between them. They only needed to talk it out.

By four o'clock, it had rained and the skies cleared. Steam rose off the boardwalk. All browsers left the shop. "Go home, Sophie," Jen encouraged. "Get ready for your evening with Mac."

"It's not a date," she stressed.

"It's meat loaf." A sigh escaped from Jen. "I'd eat dirt with the right man."

Sophie's limo driver picked her up at the corner of Center Street and Blue Crab Way. He respectfully opened her door and made certain she was comfortably seated. In that moment, she wished she was riding home on the back of Dune's Harley.

On her arrival, she found Mac camped by her front door. He'd dressed simply. White T-shirt and jeans. A rusty pickup truck was parked near the flower beds. She was surprised the guard at the gate had let him pass through, although Mac was the type to charge a barricade.

"I stopped for groceries." He collected all three bags. "Hope you like wine. I bought a bottle of Naked Grape."

She'd learned about wine from her parents, but she seldom swirled and sipped. She preferred iced tea or club soda with lime. She was naturally clumsy and didn't need wine to make her tipsy.

"Cool house," Mac said when he entered. He took in her medieval weaponry. "Highland Games are calling my name."

She left him wielding a samurai sword and went straight to the library to check on her Dwarf hamsters. Mac showed up moments later. He peered into their cage. "Tiny little shits," he said.

She rolled her eyes. "Not shits, but girls." She unlatched their cage. "It's exercise time." She placed them both inside the clear plastic sphere.

"They have fast feet," Mac said, sidestepping the ball. He whistled and patted his thigh, expecting them to follow him like a dog down the hall. Surprisingly, they did.

Sophie brought up the rear. "They need names," she said.

"Itsy and Bitsy," he suggested.

"I don't want to minimize their size."

He set the grocery bags on the gray slate granite counter. "How about Dumbo and Jumbo?"

"They're not elephants."

"You're a hard sell, babe."

"You're not really helping me."

He unpacked the sacks. The ingredients soon stretched from one end of the counter to the other. Mac liked to spread out, Sophie noted. She bet he'd use every pan in her kitchen before the meal was served.

"You've got Dwarf hamsters," he emphasized. "Why not go with Dopey and Doc from Snow White?"

"Those are boy names."

"Like they're going to know."

"I'd know, Mac."

He narrowed his gaze on the hamsters. "Happy and Crappy?"

"Crappy?" She was offended.

"One of them had an accident."

She did a quick cleanup, then washed her hands. She crossed to his side. "How can I help?"

"Can you follow a recipe?"

How hard could it be? "Sure."

He slipped a piece of paper from his jeans pocket. "I jotted down my grandma's cookie recipe. Keep it secret."

She had no one to tell.

"I'll fix the meat loaf while the cookies bake," he said. "You can make the mashers and a salad."

He'd given her a lot to do. She located an apron along with the necessary mixing bowl, measuring cups, and spoons. Next, she selected the ingredients from the array on the counter. Her hands shook as she cracked eggs into the bowl, specks of shell included. She sloshed milk. Spilled the sugar. Whitened her hands with flour. She incorrectly measured the peanut butter.