He’d stopped himself from acting on them. For God’s sake, she’d just been a kid. And a man with his past had no right to touch anyone so unspoiled. Instead, he’d been her friend and had found contentment in that. He’d thought he could continue to be her friend, and only her friend. But just lately those thoughts had been striking him more often and with more force. They were becoming very tricky to control.

They both had enough complications in their lives, he reminded himself. He was just going to mow her lawn, maybe help her pull some weeds. If there was time he’d offer to take them into town for some ice cream cones. Aubrey was partial to strawberry.

Then he had to go down to the boatyard and get to work. And since it was his turn to cook, he had to figure out that little nuisance.

But mother or not, he thought, as Grace leaned over to tug out a stubborn dandelion, she had a pair of amazing legs.

GRACE KNEW SHE shouldn’t have let herself be persuaded to go into town, even for a quick ice cream cone. It meant adjusting her day’s schedule, changing into something less disreputable than her gardening clothes, and spending more time in Ethan’s company when she was feeling a bit too aware of her needs.

But Aubrey loved these small trips and treats, so it was impossible to say no.

It was only a mile into St. Chris, but they went from quiet neighborhood to busy waterfront. The gift and souvenir shops would stay open seven days a week now to take advantage of the summer tourist season. Couples and families strolled by with shopping bags filled with memories to take home.

The sky was brilliantly blue, and the Bay reflected it, inviting boats to cruise along its surface. A couple of Sunday sailors had tangled the lines of their little Sunfish, letting the sails flop. But they appeared to be having the time of their lives despite that small mishap.

Grace could smell fish frying, candy melting, the coconut sweetness of sunblock, and always, always, the moist fragrance of the water.

She’d grown up on this waterfront, watching boats, sailing them. She ran free along the docks, in and out of the shops. She learned to pick crabs at her mother’s knee, gaining the speed and skill needed to separate out the meat, that precious commodity that would be packaged and shipped all over the world.

Work hadn’t been a stranger, but she’d always been free. Her family had lived well, if not luxuriously. Her father didn’t believe in spoiling his women with too much pampering. Still, he’d been kind and loving even though set in his ways. And he’d never made her feel that he was disappointed that he had only a daughter instead of sons to carry his name.