She caught her lower lip between her teeth. “It’s for someone I owe a great deal to. Someone who was there for me when I hit bottom.”

He frowned. “You’d go into major debt for this someone else when you obviously have money issues of your own?”

“It’s a long story.” She edged past him and waited by the door. “You’re on duty, and I have to go to work.”

He was being dismissed.

While a dozen more questions clamored for answers, he’d overstayed his welcome.

Putting his feet in gear, he walked past her as a faint, fresh fragrance enveloped him. Sweet and simple. Far different from the exotic, jasmine-infused scent she used to use that cost hundreds of dollars an ounce.

So who was the real Christi?

Yes, the woman who’d taken up residence in Sea Glass Cottage appeared to be down-and-out, but if her fortunes revived, would she revert to her former ways? Was she still selfish and shallow underneath? Or were the changes that seemed to have occurred more permanent?

Impossible to know.

But as he left the cottage behind, the questions followed him.

Searching for answers, however, could be dangerous. He should heed the old adage about burned once, twice shy. Refuse to let her suck him under her spell again.

Besides, even if positive changes in people and circumstances brought new possibilities, as Charley had suggested, this was the wrong time in his life to contemplate launching—or relaunching—a romance.

Because Christi didn’t have a corner on mistakes.

And in the weeks and months—and years—ahead, his number one priority had to be the little girl who’d gone far too long without a dad.

9

The school presentation was over.

Thank heaven.

Steve flipped off the faucet in the restroom and pulled two paper towels from the dispenser. Being around kids had been every bit as hard as he’d expected—even if these middle-schoolers were at minimum five years younger than Jonathan had been when he’d . . . when they’d lost him.

Pressure built in his throat, and he wadded up the towels. Flung them into the trash can. Rotated his taut shoulders.

To make matters worse, the kids in the audience had picked up on his tension. They’d been as fidgety as a beached seal desperate to escape to a more agreeable environment. Like the cafeteria—the next item on their Thursday schedule.

The one good outcome of today’s presentation? Since he wasn’t likely to get a stellar review from the administration, the odds were low he’d be tapped for another such assignment in the future.

He smoothed a hand over his hair and pushed through the door, into the hall. The closest exit was on the other side of the lunchroom, so he detoured through there.