Here with Me

She knew it did, even if Matty wouldn’t say so.

“I’m sorry, Matty,” she said softly.

It was her birthday and she was going to meet the man she’d marry. She should be celebrating, but instead, she felt sad and realized it was because she’d miss Matty Benton. He might be a pain, but there were occasions, like now, when he wasn’t teasing her and she sort of liked him.

“What have I told you about calling me Matty?” he asked, his voice all deep and scary.

Matty had never scared her a bit. Annoyed, yes, but not scared. She laughed at his attempt to do so now. “Matty’s better than Matt. There’s just no way you’re a Matt.”

“Everyone else and their brother calls me Matt.”

“They’re wrong.” She paused a minute and added, “But you’re right. You’re not exactly a Matty either.”

“So who am I?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” And she felt a wave of loneliness that he was leaving and she’d never get to find out just what his name should be.

“Sorry about your eyes,” he said.

She felt guilty for that lie. “Sorry you’re leaving.” She thought about telling him she’d miss him, but she couldn’t quite get the words out.

There was another slight rustling of the air, and she knew Matty had moved. Something soft brushed against her cheek.

Matty Benton had kissed her.

Right after that thought, she heard the sound of rapid footsteps down the small stone path.

The gate creaked. “Bye, Mary Eileen. There’s not much I’ll miss about Erie, but I’ll miss you. I left you something on the fence post.”

“Bye, Matty.”

And though she knew she shouldn’t, though she knew she was tempting fate, she cracked her interlaced fingers the merest smidgen and peeked at the boy who was walking away.

“Goodbye, Matty.”

Chapter One

“No, Mom, I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong…. I like my life just the way it is.” Lee Singer wished she could hang up. But hanging up wasn’t an option, so she worked at tuning out her mother’s you-could-do-somuch-better lecture. After all, she’d heard it so many times she could almost quote it verbatim.

So much potential, blah, blah, blah.

Wasting your life, blah, blah, blah.

If only you had some drive, some ambition, blah, blah, blah.

Mid-lecture, the door opened at Lee’s small Perry Square art shop, Singer’s Treasures, and a man walked in.

Her conversation with her mother faded to mere background static as she studied the customer with an uncharacteristic feminine awareness.

It wasn’t that she didn’t notice good-looking men, it was just that most of the time she didn’t get hit with this sudden zing.

The man in question was tall. At five-six, she wasn’t a tiny woman, but he towered over her. Sixtwo maybe?

Black hair, not a strand out of place, dark eyes that didn’t look as if they missed anything. He was dressed in a neatly pressed polo shirt and Dockers. He wasn’t exactly scowling, but he wasn’t exactly smiling either.

No, he was sort of studying her with an intensity that made her very…

She searched for a word to describe the heart-pounding, blood-roaring feeling his scrutiny gave her. A word to describe how looking at him made her feel.

Desire.

That was it.

Not that she’d act on it. Lee believed herself to be the type of woman who knew that what was on the inside mattered more than how a person was packaged. But this man’s packaging was a sight to behold.

She tried to steady her thoughts and her heart rate, and managed to say, “Pardon me a sec, Mom. A customer just walked in.” She put a hand over the phone’s mouthpiece. “May I help you?”

“I came about a rental property on Lake Erie. I saw the ad in the paper and it said to contact Singer’s Treasures.”

She uncovered the phone and said, “Listen, Mom, I’ve got to go.”

“I wasn’t finished,” her mother said. “Your father and I have a surprise. We’re—”

Her mother would never be finished because they were never going to see eye to eye on Lee’s life choices. She had realized that long ago, but she couldn’t help but wish her relationship with her mother was different.

“Sorry, Mom, but business calls. And business is supposed to be my priority. Remember? Send my love to Dad.”

Before her mother could utter any further protests, Lee clicked off the power on the portable phone, then set it on the counter.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “Parents. You know how they are.”

“Not really,” the man said.

From his expression she could tell she’d made a faux pas.

“I’m sorry,” she offered, though she wasn’t sure what she was sorry for. She decided to take her mother’s advice and for once be all business. “You wanted to know about the cottage I have to rent.”

He nodded, still studying her.

“It’s small, a one bedroom that sits on the lake. It has great views, if you like the water. I usually rent it out by the week. Plumbing, electricity…the basics, but not very fancy.”

A man this pressed and preppy on a hot, humid summer day was the type who was used to fancy…demanded fancy, even.

Her small cottage probably wouldn’t suit him at all.

“Is it vacant?”

She nodded.