Holt's a pathetic record keeper. And Nathaniel...

Oh, that's right. Holt has a partner now. What did Sloan tell me? An old friend?

Holt and Nathaniel grew up together on the island. Nathaniel moved back a few months ago. He used to be in the merchant marine. There you go, sweetie.

She

kissed the baby, then shot an eagle eye over the rest of the children to make sure seat belts were securely buckled. She clicked the sliding door into place, then rounded the hood as Megan took the passenger seat.

He's quite a character,

Suzanna said

mildly.

You'll get a kick out of him.

The character was just finishing up an enormous lunch of fried chicken, potato salad and lemon meringue pie. With a sigh of satisfaction, he pushed back from the table and eyed his hostess lustfully.

What do I have to do to get you to marry me, darling?

She giggled, blushed and waved a hand at him.

You're such a tease, Nate.

Who's teasing?

He rose, grabbed her fluttering hand and kissed it lavishly. She always smelted like a woman soft, lush, glorious. He winked and skimmed his lips up to nibble on her wrist.

You know I'm crazy about you, Coco.

Cordelia Calhoun McPike gave another delighted giggle, then patted his cheek.

About my cooking.

That, too.

He grinned when she slipped away to pour him coffee. She was a hell of a woman, he thought. Tall, stately, striking. It amazed him that some smart man hadn't scooped up the widow McPike long ago.

Who do I have to fight off this

week?

Now that The Retreat's open, I don't have time for romance.

She might have

sighed over it if she wasn't so pleased with her life. All her darling girls were married and happy, with babies of their own. She had grandnieces and grandnephews to spoil, nephews-in-law to coddle, and, most surprising of all, a full-fledged career as head chef for the St. James Towers Retreat. She offered Nathaniel the coffee and, be cause she caught him eyeing the pie, cut him another slice.