Dogwood Hill. Sherryl WoodsЧитать онлайн книгу.
else? Move away?”
She looked taken aback by the alternatives he’d mentioned. “I can’t let myself think like that. This has to work, and that’s that.”
“So failure’s not an option?”
“Absolutely not.”
He admired her determination. In an odd way, it reflected the lecture he’d given himself when he’d decided to take the coaching job. He picked up the last of the toys, then grabbed the two boxes.
“I can carry them,” she protested.
“So can I. Lead the way.”
After a momentary hesitation, she crossed the street and opened the door of her shop. Aidan took a quick glance around at the colorful array of everything from pet accessories to toys and some organic pet food. There was even a fancy Victorian-style doghouse, large enough for the adult Archie would become, in one corner.
“That is for a dog, right? It’s not a playhouse?”
Liz tilted her head slightly and studied it with a smile on her lips. “I suppose it would work okay for a toddler, but no, it’s meant for a dog. Believe it or not, it’s another one of those outrageously expensive items that seem to be selling. It’s a custom design by Mick’s nephew Matthew. I’m sure you must have met him at Sunday dinner. He’s an architect like Mick, but he started this as a fun sideline. I’m taking them on commission or he’ll custom design them for people if they want one that looks just like their home or something like that.”
“Good grief.”
She laughed. “I know. Crazy, isn’t it?”
Aidan glanced at his watch. It wasn’t yet seven-thirty, surely too early for the store to be opening.
“Do you have time for a cup of coffee at Sally’s?” he asked impulsively.
She seemed flustered by the question. “No,” she said a little too quickly. “I mean, I do, but I usually meet Bree there around eight-thirty.”
Something told him there was more to her refusal than a prior-standing commitment, but he shrugged it off. “No problem. Another time.”
She seemed to be struggling with herself before finally saying, “If you’re right upstairs and don’t have other plans, you could join us.”
“That’s okay. I don’t want to intrude.”
“You wouldn’t be intruding. Half the people who own shops around here stop in. Of course a lot of those people are O’Briens, so you’ll already know them from dinner at Mick’s. You’d be welcome.”
“I need to get over to the high school before nine,” he said. “I’m meeting with Coach Gentry and Rob Larkin to make some plans for next season. I want to do some unofficial spring training to assess the players before school’s out and assign their workouts for the summer. Maybe another day. See you, Liz.”
He was almost to the door when she called out. “Aidan, is it true what I heard, that you only signed on to coach for a year?”
He nodded.
“That doesn’t seem to give the team much of a chance to get its act together.”
So, Mick had been right. People were going to be upset by what they viewed as a lack of commitment.
“I think it’s long enough for both the school and me to see if we’re a good match,” he replied.
“Or is it a way to hold the town up for a lot of money if they want you to stay?”
Aidan frowned at the suggestion it had anything to do with money. “Any idea what a successful pro football player makes, Liz?”
She blinked at the question. “Not really.”
“Then let me reassure you, I don’t need to take advantage of the town. My career may have been cut short, but I did okay and most of what I made is doing just fine in investments. I took this job because I’ve always wanted to coach at this level. This seemed like a great place to start.”
“Then why not commit?”
He studied her closely. He sensed there was a lot more behind the question than the obvious. “Is commitment a particularly touchy subject for you, Liz?”
The direct question seemed to take her aback. “Isn’t it for everyone?”
“I suppose, but this seems to matter an awful lot to you.”
“I just think people should keep their promises.”
“No question about it, which is why I made a commitment for the amount of time I thought made sense for me and for the school. At the end of the year, we’ll both decide how it’s working out.” He gave her a knowing look. “Sort of like dating for a year before committing to marriage.”
The blush on her cheeks told him he’d hit the nail on the head. Somebody had run out on her, leaving her particularly sensitive to the whole commitment thing.
“You’re right,” she said tightly. “Sorry if it seemed like I was judging you. I’ll see you around. Thanks for the help just now.”
For the first time since he’d met Liz, Aidan realized that she wasn’t just a perpetually cheerful advocate for the joy of living in Chesapeake Shores. He recognized that there were things she was hiding, a skittishness he couldn’t explain. He couldn’t help wondering if her life was every bit as complicated as his. She might make his pulse race and his imagination take off in some steamy directions, but his life was unsettled enough right now without taking on her secrets, too.
* * *
“Was that Aidan I saw coming out of your shop a little while ago?” Bree asked, her curiosity in full swing.
“Yes, but you can wipe that look right off your face,” Liz replied. “He saw me spill some stuff as I was crossing the green. He came down to help.”
“Then the rumor’s true?” Shanna O’Brien, who owned the bookstore, said. “He’s taken one of the apartments upstairs?”
“I guess so,” Liz said.
“Your old one,” Bree told Shanna. “Much to my father’s dismay. Dad wanted him to buy a home.”
“Which is why the rent money is going into escrow for a house,” Susie chimed in. “I drew up the paperwork myself. Dad told me it was Gram’s idea and that Uncle Mick actually went along with it.”
Liz looked around at these women who’d become her friends, every one of them either born an O’Brien or married to one. Only Heather, Connor O’Brien’s wife and the owner of Cottage Quilts on Shore Road, was missing this morning.
“Where’s Heather?” Liz asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from Aidan and her connection to him. “Come to think of it, she wasn’t at Sunday dinner the last time I was there, either.”
Shanna glanced at Bree. “It’s not a secret, is it?”
Bree shook her head, but glanced worriedly at Susie before answering. “Morning sickness,” she finally revealed. “It’s apparently hit her real hard.”
“Don’t look at me like that when you mention morning sickness,” Susie grumbled. “People in this family are going to have babies. Just because I can’t doesn’t mean I can’t be happy for them.”
Bree reached over and squeezed her hand. “But we all know how hard it’s been for you waiting to hear if you and Mack will be able to adopt.”
“Sure it’s hard,” Susie said, “but please don’t tiptoe around the subject of babies and pregnancy. That just makes it worse. And, so help me, if you don’t ask me to be a part of planning for the baby shower, I’ll never forgive you.”
A devilish grin spread across