Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
Maris carried the blanket, Bear carried the basket, and Cookie brought the thermoses. Though the Towne Plaza was enormous, it was starting to look like the beach in summer, with colorful ground coverings and coolers everywhere.
“Goodness,” Maris said. “I didn’t realize Pixie Point Bay Picnic Day was going to be so popular.”
“They always are,” Cookie said, smiling and looking around. Her bright floral dress matched the surroundings perfectly. “I haven’t been to one of these in years.”
It wasn’t often that Ruth “Cookie” Calderon came to town at all. The B&B’s chef always said that she preferred home—particularly her kitchen and garden—to just about anywhere.
Picnic Day, however, was an exception.
“How about here?” Maris asked her companions. She came to a stop and surveyed the neatly trimmed patch of grass about midway to the Oriental gazebo.
“Fine by me,” the diminutive chef said, looking at her, and then up at Bear.
Their outsized handyman grinned at her. “Looks good.”
He easily stood two heads above them and carried the heavily laden picnic basket as though it was a lunchbox. His neatly trimmed beard didn’t hide his smile. Nor did his bib overalls hide a burgeoning paunch at the midriff.
“Great,” Maris said, and unfurled the checkered blanket.
“Is that the new pizzeria?” Cookie asked, looking in its direction.
Located in a building that was even narrower than the medical clinic, wedged between Castaways and Superior Hardware, was the newest establishment in town: Pizza del Popolo.
Maris glanced in that direction as she continued to spread out the blanket. “That’s the one,” she confirmed.
Cookie nodded. “It’s about time.”
Bear sniffed the air. “I can smell it.” He arched his heavy brows. “It smells good.”
Satisfied with the blanket, Maris gazed in the pizzeria’s direction. “I’m happy to say it tastes good too.” Bear swiveled his head back to her. “He’s having his soft opening this week, and I was invited for a sample.” She grinned at him. “It’s good to be the owner of the Pixie Point Bay Lighthouse and B&B.”
Not only was it her job to ensure the comfort of her guests, but they often asked for restaurant recommendations. She regularly sampled new menu offerings, even at places she’d eaten many times.
“Shall we have a seat?” Cookie said. As she sat down on the blanket, Bear placed the basket next to her. “Thank you, Bear.”
Maris paused to scan the area. “Oh, there he is,” she said, and waved.
Mac saw her, waved back, and headed their way. She watched him stride over. It always pleased her to see him dressed in something other than his uniform. Six feet tall and athletically built, Sheriff McKenna of Medio County had the kind of rugged good looks that made hearts flutter. His gray eyes and matching salt and pepper hair only added to his charm.
She held out her hands to him as he approached. He took them and leaned in for a quick peck on the cheek.
“I’m glad you could make it,” Maris said.
“I wouldn’t have missed it,” he replied before pulling away and looking down at her. “You look lovely.”
She’d made sure to wear the most flattering skirt and blouse that she owned, and had taken extra time with her hair. Despite having aimed for exactly that compliment, heat rose to her cheeks. “Thank you.”
Mac nodded to the chef. “Cookie. It’s good to see you.”
Cookie had opened the basket, but paused, smiling as she shielded her eyes from the sun. “Nice to see you too, Sheriff.”
He reached across Maris and offered his hand to Bear. “Good morning, Bear. How’s it going?”
“Very well, Mac,” he said, shaking the sheriff’s hand. “And you?”
Mac grinned at him, and then at Maris. “Never better.”
Bear gave him a little nod as he nimbly descended into a cross-legged position, facing Cookie. Not as light as the chef nor as young as their handyman, Maris took her time getting to the ground, with a helping hand from Mac. Since arriving back in Pixie Point Bay she felt more healthy than she had in decades. With her weight steadily if slowly dropping, she expected that her cholesterol would be getting to a good range too. But it didn’t mean she was any more limber. When she finally sat down, Mac joined her, and Cookie started to unpack the basket.
“Maris, would you pour the tea please?” She handed her the plastic mugs, and then a thermos.
“My pleasure,” Maris said. She’d just been unscrewing the plastic top when a voice assailed her from behind.
“Maris,” he said. “Ciao, Bella!”
Before she turned her head, she had to smile. “Massimo,” she said, seeing him approach. “Oh!” she exclaimed. He was barreling toward them with a stack of pizza boxes in his arms.
In his early fifties, the owner of the new pizzeria wasn’t particularly a big man but he’d impressed Maris as ‘solid.’ The hint of a beard at the jaw line and his short mustache were only flecked with gray. But his hair—shaved close at the sides and combed back on top—was a lustrous chestnut brown. The short haircut emphasized the one cauliflower ear, and Maris had previously noticed his bent nose.
As he reached the blanket, he quickly crouched and set down the pizzas. Kneeling next to her, he leaned closer for an air kiss on one cheek, then the other.
“How wonderful to see you,” he said. Without waiting for introductions, he extended a hand to Cookie. “I am Massimo Cuore, but please call me Max.”
She smiled at him as they shook. “Cookie Calderon.”
He paused, his mouth open in shock as he glanced at Maris. “The chef?” Maris smiled and nodded. He took Cookie’s hand in both of his and gave her a little bow. “It is an honor to finally meet you. I have heard about you…everywhere.”
“Oh, well,” Cookie said, her face flushing pink. “That’s very kind.” She glanced down at their hands, looking more flustered than Maris had ever seen the older woman.
“Oh, pardon!” he said, and let her hand go. “I am in disbelief that I am actually meeting you.”
When the diminutive
