“It’s my day off,” he reminded her. He started to lift his hand to touch her hair, but when she edged back he simply slid it into his pocket. “Since it is, why don’t we spend a couple hours of it on the water? We can go for a sail.”

“I can’t. I have to . . .”

“You don’t have to hunt up excuses. Some other time.”

“Yes.” The knot that had formed in her belly loosened. “Some other time. I really should go. Thanks for the drink, and the view.”

“Nell—” He took her hand again, kept his fingers light when hers jerked. “There’s a line between making a woman a little nervous and scaring her. That’s a line I wouldn’t want to cross. When you get to know me a little better, you’ll believe that,” he added.

“Right now I’m working on getting to know myself a little better.”

“Fair enough. I’ll get you a bag for your shells and stones.”

He made a point of going into the café every morning. A cup of coffee, a muffin, a few words. To Zack’s way of thinking, she’d get used to seeing him, talking to him, and the next time he worked it around so they were alone together, she wouldn’t feel compelled to check for running room.

He was perfectly aware that Nell wasn’t the only one who noticed his new morning habit. Zack didn’t mind the teasing comments, the sly winks and chuckles. Island life had a rhythm, and whenever anything new added a beat, everyone felt it.

He sipped Nell’s truly excellent coffee while he stood on the dock listening to Carl Macey bitch about lobster poachers.

“Three blessed days this week trap’s been empty, and they ain’t troubling to close it after them, neither. I’ve got the suspicion it’s them college boys renting the Boeing place. Ayah.” He spat. “That’s who’s doing it. I catch ’em at it, I’m gonna give them rich college brats something to remember.”

“Well, Carl, the fact is, it sounds like summer people, and sounds like kids on top of it. Why don’t you let me have a talk with them?”

“Got no call interfering with a man’s livelihood that way.”

“No, but they wouldn’t be thinking of it like that.”

“They’d better start thinking.” The weathered face went grim. “I went up to see Mia Devlin, asked her to put a spell on my traps.”

Zack winced. “Now, Carl—”

“Better than me peppering their skinny white asses with buckshot now, ain’t it? I swear that’s next in line.”

“Let me handle this.”