He’d already thought the same thing himself, albeit for different reasons. However, much to his dismay, knowing what he did now, he was even more intrigued by her than he’d been before.

“You deserve better than someone who’s been around the block a few dozen times.”

“You don’t even know her.”

Janey raised an eyebrow. “And you do?”

While he couldn’t argue with that, his gut told him Janey was wrong about Maddie.

“Will you be around for dinner?” Janey asked.

“I’ve got some stuff to do.”

“Come by my place for a beer if you’re in town.”

“I will.”

She hugged him again. “Nice to have you home. I’ve got to get back to the clinic.”

“See ya, brat.”

“Don’t call me that!” she shot over her shoulder as she went back inside.

Mac rested his hands on the rail and fixated on the harbor. When he woke up in the airport hotel that morning, he’d never heard of Maddie Chester. How was it possible that just a few hours later she was all he could think about?

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

If the house was his mother’s domain, Big Mac ruled over the barn-shaped garage. Linda referred to the barn as “the quicksand,” because nothing that went in there to be fixed was ever seen again.

Mac navigated his way through the chaos, batting at spider webs on the way to the back corner, his heart pumping with excitement when he saw the white sheet. Just as he’d left it. A couple of old bicycles blocked his path, and Mac took a quick look to see if either of them would be suitable replacements for Maddie.

Dismissing them both, he said, “I’ll get her a new one. That’ll make her good and mad.” He couldn’t say why the idea of making her mad was so appealing, but he liked the spark of life that lit up her caramel-colored eyes when he challenged her.

Tugging on the sheet, he uncovered his first love—an orange Honda 250 motorcycle he’d bought from Ned two months after he got his license. His mother had flipped out—and ripped Ned a new one—but Big Mac had urged Linda to “let the boy be.”

The bike was already old when Mac bought it, but with his father’s help, he’d lovingly restored it. He ran his hand over the gas tank and came to rest on the leather seat. “What’d ya say, old girl? Still got some life left in you?”

Mac wheeled the motorcycle out of the barn to the crushed-shell driveway and was checking the oil when his mother came up behind him, letting out a shriek that nearly stopped his heart.

“Jeez, Mom.” He stood up from the crouch he’d been in and hugged her. She was petite with the same fair-haired coloring Janey had inherited. “You scared the hell out of me.”