Too late. She kept her eyes closed, folded the book, and slid it behind her back as the person rounded the far side of the rock.
“Saffron.”
Oh, that voice. She’d thought about that voice in the bathtub last night.
“Leo!” she said, her eyelids flying open. She tried to hide how flustered and unprepared she felt. At least her hair was in spectacular condition, and great hair could cover for a multitude of fashion sins, like patched grandpa bathrobes and scuffed gardening clogs.
And why did she care if Leo liked her hair?
“This is a nice surprise,” he said. “I take it we’re neighbors?”
He raised his mug of coffee to their surroundings. Gaia’s book was tucked under his other arm.
“Yes, we are,” Anna responded, pulling her copy from behind and holding it up for him to see. “And I see we share similar tastes in reading material.”
Leo rewarded her with a wide grin and a slight blush. “You didn’t stay for the second workshop.”
“My friend and I made other plans,” Anna explained. “Was it good?”
He nodded and gestured to the small house behind them. “Very good. Lots of different exercises and helpful information. I’ve rented this place for two months.”
“The MacMasters’ cottage. I thought someone was using it. I’ve seen lights off and on all week. When did you arrive?”
“I flew in Sunday a week ago. It’s my first visit to this area of the world.”
“Would you like to join me? It’s even nicer up here with a cushion.” She patted the bare rock beside her. Might as well keep stepping out of her comfort zone, maybe try a little multi-tasking. They could chat, and Leo would never know what she was doing underneath the bathrobe.
A slight tremor passed through his hand as he relinquished a ceramic mug adorned with red and pink hearts. “If you could hold this, I’ll be right back.”
Anna blew out a quick breath and focused on the view to one of the neighboring islands. She knew the tides and currents of the water out there better than she knew what was happening inside her. Leo returned with a throw pillow in one hand and the same striped knit cap she’d seen him wear after the workshop pulled to a rakish angle over his head.
“How are you settling in?” she asked, completely distracted by his I-just-rolled-out-of-bed approachability and the scruff along his jawline. She wondered how some men could do that, look so delicious first thing in the morning.
“I like it here, so far,” he said, adjusting his pillow. “I’m taking some time off work.”
Anna rotated his mug so he could take the handle.
His hand trembled again. “It’s the chemo. I finished treatments a year ago, but I have residual tremors.”
“How are you doing now?” She tamped down the maternal urge to soothe and comfort. She didn’t want to sound trite or pat.
“Cancer free,” he assured her, knocking his knuckles against the large piece of driftwood behind him. She raised her mug to his.
“Cheers to you. Where is home?” Not the Pacific Northwest, going by his accent, and maybe not even Canada.
“Upstate New York. I design and fabricate custom furniture, and my workshop’s in Rhinebeck. I have a showroom in the city. Manhattan”
“Why are you taking time off?” she asked. “Or is that getting too personal?”
“Haven’t we already gotten pretty personal?” He sipped his coffee and looked at her over the rim of his mug. His eyes were a lighter shade of brown in the morning light, and she was no less fascinated by their hidden stories. “And no, it’s fine to ask.”
Anna’s turn to blush. Her cheeks warmed.
Leo looked from his coffee, to the horizon, and back to her before expanding his answer. “Everything in my life was going pretty well until about two years ago. I was diagnosed with cancer right after my fortieth birthday, when I went in for one of those big annual check-ups. Treatments took about a year.”
That would make Leo forty-two years old. Anna’s heart sagged slightly. There wasn’t much about her or her day-to-day life to interest a younger man from a very metropolitan area of the world. She took a quiet inhale through her nose and studied him out the corners of her eyes.
He set his mug between his legs and fiddled with the chipped edge, turning the cup in circles. “My girlfriend and I started talking about getting engaged before the diagnosis, but we parted ways once I was out of the woods.”
“That’s a lot to have to deal with,” she said, reaching for his wrist with her fingertips. What she really wanted to do was hug him. A hurting heart was a hurting heart, no matter the person’s age.
“Yeah. It was. But now that I have some distance, I’m okay.”
His words seemed genuine, like he’d had time to reflect. She withdrew her touch and smoothed at the fringed edge of the robe’s belt.
“Well, my fiftieth birthday was a week ago, and I have no idea how I got here,” she admitted. She ran her fingers through the hair falling across her forehead, and tried wrangling a glossy chunk of it behind one ear.
“Happy birthday. Did you do anything special to celebrate?”
She nodded, rearranging herself into a cross-legged position, and massaging her toes. “Dinner at my son’s summer house with lots of friends and a big cake. I wanted it low-key, no black balloons, no gag gifts, and they obliged.”
Okay, only one bag of gag gifts.
“What do you do here on the island?”
“I sew things for people, mostly boat owners. I’ve had my own business for about twenty years.” She pointed in the direction of her house. “See that building beside my house? The one set in the woods? That’s my sewing studio.”
A not-uncomfortable silence settled between them while pleasure boats and a large ferry chugging its way to Vancouver passed in the distance. Anna spied a seal
