“We get a small push around spring break, but the season really cranks up starting Memorial Day. Visitors come for the patriotic parade and street fair, and by the time school lets out, the town’s population triples.”
He rubbed his chin, looking thoughtful and so distractingly handsome she lost the thread for a moment, too caught up in his broody beauty to think straight.
Get the story, Ms. Horny-Pants.
And if doing so helped a hunky, troubled newcomer along the way, so much the better.
“Listen.” She pulled out her notepad. “I’m doing a big feature on Gus. He’s kind of a local legend, and I’d love to hear your memories about him.”
Xander’s mouth set in a hard line.
“When you’re feeling up to it, of course. In the meantime, in TC, we take care of our own. That means you now. So if you need help—you know, hauling, reorganizing, painting—just give me a call. I’ll put you in touch with someone.”
“Pretty well connected, aren’t you?”
“It takes a village, right?”
He scrunched his brow. “Wasn’t that one about raising kids?”
“Yeah, well, for some of us, our business is our baby.”
That was especially true for Hannah. Though she liked kids fine in the abstract, she’d funneled all her nurturing into the newspaper, and the threat of losing it brought out her mama bear instincts.
She reached across Xander’s body to pat the big stuffed alien glued to the bench. “Gus loved this place like his own child. He poured so much love into it.”
Might as well ask because she’d never get a better segue. “You have kids, Xander?”
He shook his head. “Never got around to it. Like my uncle, I guess.” His gaze met hers and held it fast. “You?”
“I’ve never felt that maternal pull.” She tapped her chest. “Hard-hearted career woman. That’s what my father called Mom when she refused to give up theBeaconand be a stay-at-home wife. He’d say the same about me if he were still around.” Which was a ridiculous double standard, since Dad had been just as driven as his wife and daughter.
She cracked a wry smile. “Family, right?”
Xander grunted. “Not my favorite topic at the moment.”
“Well, you got lucky with Gus.” She patted his firm shoulder. “He was a good one.”
“That he was.” A grimace twisted his features. “The guilt is eating me alive. If I’d visited sooner, I’d have noticed Gus was losing his marbles—holed up here, obsessing about UFOs, and neglecting his health.” His deep voice cracked. “If I’d known, if I’d got him help, he’d still be here today.”
“Hey now.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed hard. “What happened to Gus was not your fault. We all should’ve noticed he was in distress. He was part of our family too.”
Holding her gaze, he wove his fingers through hers, sending an electric zing right to her heart. For a long moment, she sat there breathless, vibrating with anticipation.
Then he averted his eyes, released her hand, and pushed to his feet.
Damn. Guess I’m the only one who felt that. Pity.
“Well, hard-hearted lady with connections, I need a way to unload all this dusty crap so I can see what I’m working with.”
She tapped her lips with her pen. “How about a clearance sale? Saturday sound good? In honor of Gus’s friendship, theBeaconwill waive our usual advertising fee.” Plus, a blow-out sale would provide yet another meaty story about Souvenir Planet and all the wacky merchandise on offer.
Xander scratched his head. “Um, I hadn’t got that far, but yeah, that could work if I can get some temporary staff.”
“Gotcha.” She pulled out her phone and tapped out a message. “My friend Lisa sponsors the high school’s honor society, and volunteering in the community is a requirement. We’ll rope some reliable students into helping out. Anything else I can do today?”
“I’ll need someone who can repair drywall. Check this out.” He picked his way through the crowded, messy aisles to a ladder standing against the wall and climbed, thick thighs flexing. Reaching up, he tapped a lopsided painting of an alien on the ceiling.
“He’s cute.”
