Yet no matter how hard he pressed on the accelerator, he couldn’t escape the image of that guy leering at Christi. It was burned into his brain . . . and making him hot under the collar.

If she was determined to earn as much money as possible toward her goal, however, there wasn’t anything he could do to persuade her to nix the sports bar gig—unless he was willing to fork over the cash she’d asked for.

What a conundrum.

One that plagued him for the entire drive through the dark night.

Only on the outskirts of Hope Harbor did he ease back on the accelerator.

And maybe that was the best plan to follow with Christi too. Slow down. Wait and see how he felt about her situation in the next couple of weeks. Once he got over the shock of her being in town—and finding her in that bar—it was possible his curiosity and concerns would subside. Especially after Hannah was in his custody and demanding his full and undivided attention.

He hung a right onto Starfish Pier Road, toward his apartment. Perhaps, with all the balls he’d soon be juggling—not to mention all the legalities he was dealing with through the attorney he’d contacted to ensure there were no glitches in securing his paternal rights—thoughts of Christi would fade into the background.

But as he’d learned the hard way, few emotion-laden situations were resolved that easily.

Nor were the resolutions without consequences.

Maintaining a firm grip on the small vase of flowers she’d picked up at Budding Blooms back in Hope Harbor, Christi read the hospital room numbers as she passed.

There. That was Beth’s.

She crossed to it and gave a soft knock on the half-closed door. “Beth? It’s Christi. Are you awake?”

“Yes. Come in.” Her employer’s voice sounded strong, despite the surgery that had taken place in the early hours of this Monday.

Christi pushed open the door—and found a tall, white-coated man at the foot of Beth’s bed. She halted. “I can come back later if—”

“Don’t leave. I’m finished.” He pulled back the curtain that had blocked her view of Beth. “She’s all yours.”

Despite the major operation her employer had undergone, her color was excellent and her eyes were alert.

“If there wasn’t a bunch of medical equipment in this room, I’d never know you had a knee replaced this morning.” Christi circled the bed to stand on the opposite side from the doctor.

“I have a great surgeon. Meet Ben Garrison. I already told him about you.”

The man, who appeared to be in his late thirties, smiled and extended his hand across the sheet. “A pleasure.”

Christi took it and returned the sentiment.