Some Like It Hot

He’d been shocked to come home after mustering out of the Marines to discover his mother had packed up and moved to London to marry the man. She hadn’t given him so much as a heads-up.

But Nigel Shevington had turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to Angie Bradshaw. She’d met him while waiting tables at the restaurant in The Brothers Inn. Nigel had proven himself a fast worker, sweeping Angie off her feet and getting her to agree to move halfway across the globe with him practically before she’d even presented him with the check for dinner. Nigel thought she hung the moon, and since meeting him, Angie was probably the happiest she’d ever been.

Happier than he’d ever seen her, at any rate.

Old habits were hard to break, however, and sometimes when they talked she fell back into her old churlish ways. He was content to have diverted her now.

“So what are you doing with yourself in the nice weather?” she asked him. “Are you working today?”

“No, I have a rare Saturday off. I spent some time scraping the shingles on my house to get it ready to stain and thought I might hit the beach in a bit.”

“You and that canal,” she said, her voice half indulgent, half exasperated. “Never in my life have I met anyone else so drawn to the beach and the water as you. I’m surprised you didn’t buy yourself a house on the canal.”

“The sheriff’s department pays a pretty decent salary. But not that decent.”

“I bet that little shit Jake—”

“Ma,” he said with flat-toned warning.

“All right, all right.” She was silent for a heartbeat, then asked, “So, what color are you going to paint your place?”

“I haven’t quite made up my mind yet. I thought I’d ask—” Shit. Jake, he’d almost said, because his brother had a much more artistic eye than he did. And wouldn’t that go over like a fart in church? “—a friend I know who’s good with that sorta thing.”