It better not be another fawn. Just in case it was, I took out my phone and called the first person I thought of. It went straight to voicemail. “Hi, Connor. That growling and barking you’re probably hearing is Chaucer, pawing at the cellar door. I could totally do this on my own, because I am not the least bit afraid of dark, cobweb-ridden, rodent-filled cellars. At all. I just thought you might be bored and interested in going down there first. I didn’t want to cheat you out of a manly experience.” I took a deep breath and braced myself. “Okay, I’ve probably stalled long enough. I’ll keep you on the phone, so to speak, just so you don’t miss a bit of the action. Here goes.” I heaved the door open and the biggest rat I’d ever seen came running out, scampering over my slippers, heading for the trees. I screamed. I’m not proud, but, holy hell, that thing was huge!
“Sorry, sorry,” I said into the phone. “I’m fine. Chaucer! Get back here! Right now, mister. That thing probably has rabies. At the very least, it’s been irradiated. I mean, that rat must have been two feet long. What the hell is with Maine rats—oh, wait, was that an opossum? I’ve never seen one, only heard their squeaky conversations with those damn snarky marmosets. Huh. Okay, never mind.” I hung up.
Two hours later, I was on my knees in the garden, weeding. Chaucer had flopped down under a nearby tree. Suddenly he sat up, giving a soft woof. When I looked around, I found Connor watching me, a tender expression on his face.
“Hello, honey. It sounded like you had a big morning. Any more irradiated rodents come looking for you?” He enjoyed a good laugh at my expense.
I rolled my eyes and stood, brushing off the knees of my jeans. “Whatever. How the heck am I supposed to know what an opossum looks like? For all you know, you do have radioactive varmints running around in these woods. You’ll be sorry you mocked me when one bites you in the butt and you mutate into some creepy rat man.”
He continued chuckling while I put away the gardening tools. “Not that you deserve my hospitality, but would you like a drink, Connor?”
“I’d love one; thanks.” His eyes twinkled.
He strolled up to the porch while I went in for refreshments. I filled a tray with two glasses of iced tea and a plate of cookies.
He looked surprised when I returned to him. “Mmm, what are these?”
“Blueberry snickerdoodles. It seemed like a good idea. Let me know what you think.”
He bit into one and his eyes fluttered closed. My pride swelled.
“Delicious! So, word is you went on a date with Bear a couple of weeks ago.”
“I guess nothing’s secret in this town.” I took a cookie and said, “I realize I barely know him, but I love that guy.”
The smile fell off Connor’s face. “Oh, is that so?”
“What?” Shit. Was he a serial killer after all?
Connor recovered himself. “Nothing. I just didn’t expect you to fall for him so quickly.”
I could feel my cheeks heat. “No, no. That’s not what I meant. We had a great time, and he was totally fun. I just really like him is all.” I took a cookie. “He seemed annoyed when Aiden showed up.”
Connor choked a little on his iced tea. “Aiden showed up on your date?”
I shrugged. “Yeah. He said he saw my car in the parking lot of the Chart Room, so he came in to say hi. He ended up sitting down and eating with us.” I jumped up. “Which reminds me.”
I ran in the house and retrieved Aiden’s hat from the table by the stairs. I didn’t want to keep his hat, especially since he was acting so strange before he left. That goodbye of his felt more final than was warranted. I brought the hat out to the porch and handed it to Connor. “Could you return this to Aiden for me? He loaned me his hat.”
Connor stared at me for a moment. “Aiden crashed your date, gave you a hat, and invited himself to sit down and eat with you. Is that right?”
“I wouldn’t call it a crash. He just happened to be there, and I asked him to have a seat.”
He nodded, smiling. “Well, isn’t that interesting.” He slapped his thigh with the hat and stood. “Yes, it is. I’ve got to be getting on now. How about I take you to dinner tonight?”
“Oh, you don’t need to do that. I could make something for us right here.” I stood, too, feeling awkward, unsure of why he was leaving so soon.
“How long has it been since you’ve had fresh Maine lobster?”
Chaucer walked up and bumped my hip. My hand automatically went to his head. “Fifteen years, at least.”
“See there? Far too long. I’ll come back around six. I’m not much for driving anymore, so do you think you could do the honors for our dinner date?”
“Of course.”
He turned to leave, making his way down the stairs. “Good, good. I’ll see you this evening, then.”
I turned to Chaucer. “Now, what do you suppose that was about?”
