She had reached the top of the hill, but turned back, feigning exasperation. “What?”

“You forgot something.”

“I did?”

He raised an eyebrow.

Her face flushed with color. “Love you.”

Smiling, he said, “Now I can go to work.” He slung his left leg over the bike, fired it up, and turned toward the marina, feeling her eyes on him all the way down the hill.

At a picnic table outside the marina restaurant, Mac found his father entertaining a baby from one of the boats while holding court with Ned and several other locals. Each of them had a tall cup of coffee, and they were sharing a platter of sugar donuts.

“Hey!” Big Mac shouted. “There he is! The man who’s going to keep this place from falling down around me.”

“Formidable task,” Ned muttered.

“You said it,” Mac replied. “Any of my guys here yet?”

“Haven’t see ’em,” Big Mac said. He nudged his old friend Sam Pressley, the retired Gansett police chief, to make room for Mac.

“Let me get some coffee,” Mac said. He returned a few minutes later and joined the men at the table.

Ned reached for another donut.

“You’re going to eat your way to diabetes,” Big Mac said to his friend as he kissed the baby and handed her back to her mother.

Ned licked the sugar off his fingers. “Helluva way to get there.” He wiped his face on his sleeve and turned to Mac. “I hear you’re all shacked up with that gal from the hotel.”

“Jeez,” Mac said. “Cut right to the chase, why don’t ya?”

“What gives?” Ned said.

Big Mac snickered but didn’t bail out his son.

The others leaned in, waiting for the scoop.

“Let’s see: I love her, we’re getting married, I’m staying here, probably going to take over this dump and see if I can save it from bankruptcy, I bought a new truck, I’m looking for some property to build a house on, and, oh yeah, I’m going to adopt her son. Good enough?”

The other men, including his father, stared at him, mouths hanging open.

“All that in a week?” Ned finally said.

“Yep.” Mac drank his coffee and enjoyed a donut while the others processed the news.

“If you want property,” Sam said, “you’ve come to the right place.”

“How’s that?” Mac asked.

“Talk to Ned. He can fix you up.”

Mac glanced at Ned, who squirmed in his seat.

Big Mac let out a lusty laugh. “Looks like you’re about to be thrust outta the closet, old buddy.”

Mac had no idea what they were talking about.

“Ned owns half this island, boy,” Cliff Sutter said. “You want property for less than a mil, you go to him.”

“I might even cut you a deal,” Ned said gruffly.