WITH VERY WARM FEELINGS TOWARD THE LOCAL MARKET, LAUREL unloaded her bags. She might’ve gone just a little overboard, but since it made her happy, she didn’t see anything wrong with that. She had enough to bake her pies, some bread, a coffee cake—and whatever else struck her fancy.

“I think it’s clearing up.”

She turned to see Mac, windbreaker shiny with rain, crossing over from the beach steps. “Oh yeah, I can see that.”

“No, really. See? Look over there.” Mac pointed to the eastern sky. “Little patches of blue. I’m optimistic.”

“And wet.”

“Got some great shots.” She reached in for another bag. “Dramatic, dreamy, moody. Jeez, this is heavy. What did you get?”

“Stuff.”

Mac peeked in, then sent Laurel a smug smile. “You’re going to bake. Just can’t take the Betty out of the Crocker.”

“You should talk since you haven’t dug Annie out of the Leibovitz.”

“Emma’s making noises about putting in a beach garden. Pampas grass and . . . well, who knows. It doesn’t make us workaholics.”

“No. It makes us productive.”

“Much better,” Mac agreed as they hauled the load up the steps. “I’m having the best time, and now I can’t wait to upload the digitals and see what I’ve got. I took some film, too. I wonder what it would take to talk Parker and Del into putting in a darkroom.”

“Parker thinks the place would be perfect for casual beach weddings.”

Mac pursed her lips in thought. “That may be going too far. Except, shit, it really would.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Laurel ordered and shifted her bags to open the door.

Before she could, Del pulled it open. “There you are.” He took a bag from each of them. “Did we need supplies?”

“I did.”

He set them on the counter, leaned down to give her a quick kiss. “Good morning. Hey, Macadamia, you’re all wet.”

“It’s clearing up,” she insisted. “I’m going to grab some coffee. Have you seen Carter?”

“Briefly. He had a book about this thick.” Del stretched his thumb and forefinger out.

“That’ll keep him occupied.” She poured the coffee and gave them a salute on her way out.

“Missed you in bed this morning,” Del said to Laurel. “I woke up to the sound of the rain and the surf, and thought, now this is the perfect place to be. But you weren’t there, so it wasn’t.”

“I went on a mission.”

“So I see.” He reached in a bag, pulled out one of several lemons. “Lemonade?”

“Lemon meringue pie, and a deep-dish cherry pie, I think.And I want to bake some bread, maybe a coffee cake. Rainy mornings are great for baking.”

“Boy, our minds went in different directions on rainy morning.”