“Oh, sorry—to my wedding in Anguilla. It was supposed to be in Turks and Caicos, but our resort was damaged by a storm, so they moved us to Anguilla. Somehow we will make do.”

Slim laughed at the way she said that last part.

“I’d love to have you there, Erin. Please think about coming. It’s going to be a blast. I think half the island is coming.”

“Now that you mention it, I remember Jenny saying that she and Alex are going. Thanks for the invite. I’ll have to see what’s going on.”

“No pressure, but it’s a chance to escape this freezing weather for a few days.”

“That does sound tempting,” Erin said as her heart pounded with anxiety at the thought of flying to Anguilla—or anywhere else, for that matter.

“Could I trouble you for an extra bag?” Slim asked Grace.

“Sure, here you go.” She gave him a plastic bag with the words Ryan’s Pharmacy stamped on it in blue letters.

“Thanks, see you tonight,” Slim said as he ushered Erin out the door with the proprietary hand on her lower back. He held the door to the truck and waited until she was settled to close the door.

“Should we hit the grocery store while we’re in town?” he asked after he got into the driver’s seat.

“I have plenty of everything, but if there’s anything in particular you want, we can.”

“I need my Ketel One. And beer.”

“I got your favorite vodka, but we can stop at the liquor store for the beer on the way home.”

“Thanks for thinking of me.” He directed the truck to the town beach and parked in the deserted lot. “Let’s go see what we can find.”

While indulging his need to come around and help her out of the car, Erin pulled on gloves and tied her scarf tighter around her neck. Then she tied and untied the scarf again, making sure the left side was knotted over the right. Why that mattered, she couldn’t say. It just needed to be that way or bad things might happen.

Carrying the bag he’d gotten from Grace, Slim took hold of her hand to help her over the sea wall and kept his hand wrapped firmly around hers while they walked. She was almost sorry she’d put on gloves, but she could still feel the heat of his bare hand warming hers.

They went down close to the water, where a long strip of seaweed made for fertile beachcombing. As was her routine, Erin stepped over the seaweed with her left foot. The right foot could never go first.

He stopped to pick up a scallop shell and held it up for her inspection.

Nodding in approval, she took advantage of the opportunity to remove her gloves, hoping he’d hold her hand again.