Lilly’s eyes glistened with fierce tears as she spun on Molly. “I’m not leaving!”

“I don’t think you should,” Molly replied.

Their eyes locked, and Molly thought she saw a faint crack forming in the wall between them.

Half an hour later, as Molly slipped the last of her apricot scones into a wicker basket, Amy appeared to announce that she and Troy would be staying in the upstairs bedroom Kevin had abandoned when he’d moved into Molly’s cottage. “Somebody has to sleep here at night,” Amy explained, “and Kevin said he’d pay us extra to do it. Isn’t that cool?”

“That’s great.”

“I mean, we won’t be able to make noise, but—”

“Get the jam, will you?” Molly couldn’t bear hearing any more details of Amy and Troy’s Super Bowl sex life.

But Amy wouldn’t give up, and the buttery late-afternoon sunlight splashed her love-bitten neck as she regarded Molly earnestly. “It looks like things with you and Kevin could still work out if you just, maybe, tried a little harder. I’m serious about the perfume. Sex is real important to men, and if you’d just use a little—”

Molly shoved the scones at her and made a dash for the sitting room.

Later, when she got back to the cottage, Kevin was already there. He sat on the droopy old couch in the front room with Roo lolling on the cushion next to him. His feet were propped up, and a book lay open in his lap. Although he looked as if he didn’t have a care in the world, Molly knew better.

He glanced up at her. “I like this Benny guy.”

Her heart sank as she realized he was reading Daphne Says Hello. The other four books in the series lay nearby.

“Where did you get those?”

“Last night when I went into town. There’s a kids’ store—mainly clothes, but the owner sells some books and toys, too. She had these in the window. When I told her you were here, she got pretty excited about it.” He tapped the page with his index finger. “This Benny character—”

“Those are children’s books. I can’t imagine why you’d bother reading them.”

“Curiosity. You know, there are a couple of things about Benny that seem kind of familiar. For example—”

“Really? Well, thank you. He’s entirely imaginary, but I do try to give all my characters qualities that readers can identify with.”

“Yeah, well, I can identify with Benny, all right.” He gazed down at a drawing of Benny wearing sunglasses that looked very much like his silver-rimmed Rēvos. “One thing I don’t understand … The store owner said she’d gotten some pressure from one of her customers to take the books off the shelf because they were pornographic. Tell me what I’m missing.”