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He blinked in surprise. “Sorry, have we met?”

“I’m Kaitlyn. I snagged the last of your Christmas ornaments. My kids are gonna love those sparkly little green men.” She lifted a pair of menus. “Can’t wait to see what you do with the shop. Right this way.”

She led him to the fire table, where Hannah sat chatting with two younger guys. One of them placed his hand on Hannah’s knee. Xander’s jaw twitched.

Look at me, going all caveman over a woman I’ve just met.

“Xander!” She stood and pulled him into a too-brief hug. Even through their winter jackets, the soft press of her body drew a potentially embarrassing reaction. She seemed oblivious, thank God.

“Guys, this is the man of the hour. Xander, meet Gary and Sean Rodriguez. They drove down from Bellingham for the sale.”

“Really?” He shot her a quizzical glance. “That’s a long way to buy cheap cra—I mean, souvenirs.”

The handsy guy grinned. “We’re making a weekend of it. I grew up down here. Graduated in Hannah’s class.” He squeezed her arm. “Go, Sharks!”

His partner piped up. “We cleaned out your sand candles and seashell soaps.”

“And that driftwood thing.” Handsy wrinkled his nose. “What’s that supposed to be?”

“It’s art, darling, and it’s perfect for the Whidby Island cottage.”

Hannah explained, “The guys have several rentals throughout the north Sound.”“No aliens for you, huh?” Xander asked, shooting her a pointed look.

“Of course.” Handsy showed him an enamel pin on his lapel: a grinning alien waving a rainbow flag. He drained his beer glass. “Come on, love. Don’t want to be late for our twilight massage. Great to see you, Hannah. You take good care of our new alien herder, you hear?” He smooched her temple, then threw Xander a wink.

Hannah spared him an “I told you so,” but she giggled as she examined her menu.

When their server came over, Xander ordered a red ale and smoked salmon chowder in a sourdough bread bowl. She ordered a clam strip po’boy, then unwound her woolly scarf. Reflected firelight gilded her skin and shimmered in her hair and eyes.

“What a triumph, eh?” She squeezed his hand. “You must feel great.”

“I feel…” Searching for the right words, he watched the flames’ hypnotic dance. “To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure.” He tapped his chest. “It’s kind of a stew, you know?”

She pressed her palm there, and—though it made no sense, considering all the layers of cloth between her skin and his—heat radiated from that point of contact, filling his body with tickly lightness.

“I understand. Your loss is still fresh. You must miss Gus terribly.”

And now his eyes were growing misty. Swell.

He gave his head a shake. “This isn’t like me. I’m usually more grounded. But something about Gus’s shop makes me feel…off center, I guess.”

“It’s that cosmic vortex. It warps the energy field.”

“Gah. Please tell me you don’t believe in that bullsh—that nonsense.”

Her laughter tinkled like bells. “You can swear in front of me, Xander. I’m not some delicate flower. As for the aliens, I keep an open mind.” She tilted her head back to gaze up at the sky, baring her pale throat. “I mean, how arrogant to look at all those stars and think, ‘Nope. We’re the only intelligent beings.’”

He joined her in stargazing. “Honestly, I never really thought about it.”

Just at that moment, a meteor streaked across the night sky. A good omen?

She nudged him with her shoulder. “You don’t have a choice now, do you? Aliens are your bread and butter.”

“Hmmph. We’ll see.” This was obviously going to be a sticking point between them.

She speared him with a stern glare. “You’ve got to keep the aliens, Xander. It’s what Gus would want.”

“I keep my promises.” And technically, he’d never promised anything more than keeping the transmitter thingy in place. He could work around the ugly structure, maybe turn it into a planter.