Summer on Lovers' Island (Jewell Cove 3)

“Can I have some time to think about it?” she asked. “I’m here covering Charlie’s mat leave, and she hasn’t even delivered yet.”

“Surely it wouldn’t be hard to find a replacement for a few months.” He chuckled. “I’m not sure why this place needs two doctors anyway.”

She didn’t like the way he said it. As if Jewell Cove were barely worth mentioning.

“I can’t just up and leave. Besides, she’s my best friend. I want to be here when her baby’s born.”

“So come back and visit.” He frowned. “Besides, what about your mom? Don’t you hate being so far away from her?”

It was a direct hit to Lizzie’s conscience, but it also made it easier for her to step back. “I’ve been visiting, don’t worry. My mother isn’t any of your concern. You were the one who forced me out. If I need some time to think about your offer, I’m going to take it.”

He finished his drink and put down his can. “I see.”

“Did you think I would leap at the chance to return?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Actually, yes. I think I did. You’re different than I remember, Lizzie. If I didn’t know better, I’d say this town has gotten to you.”

If Josh or Charlie or even Jess or Sarah had said such a thing, it would have been a compliment. Lizzie knew Ian didn’t mean it that way. God, had she been this snobby when she’d arrived? No wonder Josh had been cool at first.

She stood. “I’ll think about it, Ian. That’s all I can promise right now.”

Ian stood, too, but she’d underestimated his persistence. “Is there a place in town I could book for the night? I’d like to take you to breakfast in the morning. We could talk some more.”

Lizzie was at a loss for words for a minute. He’d planned on staying in Jewell Cove overnight? And he hadn’t booked a room, which meant …

He’d been planning to stay here. Presumptuous much?

“There’s a motel on the main drag into town, but it’s a little, um, plain for your standards. There’s an inn a few streets up from the harbor that would probably be okay. It’s a busy time of year, though.”

She didn’t offer to let him stay at the cottage—certainly not in her room, and not in the spare room, either.

“I’ll try there,” he replied. The strain between them multiplied as Ian accepted the cue that it was time for him to leave. “Breakfast tomorrow, though, before I have to head back?”

It was awkward, but really, she didn’t have bad feelings. Breakfast was no biggie. “There’s a café called ‘Breezes’ that serves a great breakfast. Let’s meet at nine?”

“Nine, then. And think about what I said, okay? You’re a big asset to the department. I’d like to see you return.” His gaze met hers. “Regardless of our personal status.”

“I will,” she said, leading the way to the door.

When he was gone she took out the container of pasta she’d brought home. She’d been hungry then, but she wasn’t anymore. Now she didn’t know what she felt. It was all so confusing, jumbled up together. The problem, she realized, was that she no longer knew what she wanted. She knew she wanted to be back in an emergency room, but she didn’t know how or where. That it might not be in Springfield was something she hadn’t considered.

So she put the dish down and changed into shorts and a T-shirt. Nothing felt as good as running on Fiddler’s Beach when her mind got working overtime. Maybe then she would have a few answers. And her appetite back.

CHAPTER 19

Breezes was doing a bustling business the next morning. Lizzie’d slept poorly and then missed her alarm, and now she was late. Ian was waiting at a table when she walked in, and she smiled and asked Linda for a coffee refill on the way by the counter, giving the waitress her stainless travel mug. Ian, as usual, was dressed impeccably, in entirely appropriate business casual, his pants precisely creased and his shirt without a single wrinkle.

“Sorry I’m late,” Lizzie said, sitting across from him. “Did you find a place all right?”

He nodded, his finger hooked through the handle of his coffee mug. “The inn is surprisingly nice,” he offered. “I got the last room, and it was a little small, but the bed was comfortable and it’s very quaint.”

The backhanded compliment irked her. “I’m glad it met with your approval,” she replied, relieved when Linda arrived with her coffee and a pair of menus.

“Here you go, Doc,” Linda said, putting down the mug. “You want me to bring a carafe over and leave it?”

“That’d be great, Linda, thanks.” Lizzie smiled at Ian. “I’m afraid my love of caffeine is a matter of public record now.”

Ian’s smile was small and he looked at the single-page breakfast menu. “Do you eat here often?” he asked.