The Men of Thorne Island by Cynthia Thomason

Author:Cynthia Thomason [Thomason, Cynthia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises
Published: 2012-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

SARA WENT DOWNSTAIRS for coffee the next morning at seven-thirty. As usual, Nick had beaten her there. The pot already simmered with his rich brew, and her cup sat next to it.

Taking her coffee and an old ladder-back chair to the big kitchen window, she sat down to enjoy a day promising bright sun and warm temperatures. A perfect start to her projects. She hooked her toes around the chair legs and took the first sip from her mug.

“So, boss, what do you think I’d be good at?”

Sara jumped at the familiar voice coming from the back porch. How did he always manage to surprise her?

“Probably not replacing the eaves,” he continued. “If I got a splinter, I’d have to put up with Mother Dexter and that sewing needle he uses to dig them out.”

Sara stood and walked to the screen door. She stared at the back of Nick’s head. The baseball cap was on backward, and she smiled at the team’s grinning trademark face. “I don’t think you’ll be good at much of anything, Bass,” she said. “I’ll just let you putter around so you’ll feel like one of the boys.”

“What about painting?” he said, still looking out at the yard.

“Takes too much patience. You don’t have any.”

“Electrical?”

“Have you ever smelled charred skin? It’s not pleasant.”

He turned slowly, meeting her gaze with a serious narrowing of his eyes. “You know what I’m especially good at, Sara?”

Yes, she did, but now wasn’t the time to bring it up. “No. What’s that?”

“Thinking.”

“Thinking?”

“You know, problem solving. I like to tackle problems before they get a toehold. Anticipate the roadblocks and head them off.”

Sara knew this conversation was leading her somewhere as surely as if he’d snapped a leash around her neck. She decided to play along. “What problems do you think we might have?” she asked, taking a sip of coffee.

He stood up and faced her through the screen door. “The first one is the transportation of materials. You’ve got a boatload of supplies coming from the mainland, right? Paint, paste, nails, tools, lumber, wire…”

“Everything but qualified help,” she said.

He ignored the gibe. “Have you thought about how you’re going to move these materials from the dock to the inn?”

She knew exactly where he was going. “Of course I have,” she answered. “Why do you think I brought the car back? It’ll take a few trips, but I can get everything here in the bee. I’ll load up the trunk and the back seat…”

The muscles in his face tensed with impatience the longer she talked. Finally he cut her off midsentence. “Let me drive it, Sara.”

She pretended not to have heard. “What? What’s that?”

“I want to drive the damn car, Sara.”

With the exception of one other activity she could think of, this was probably the most fun she’d had with Nick since the day she met him. “I’ll have to think about it, Bass. You’ve been on this island for so long I don’t know if you even have a valid driver’s license.

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