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“No, it was a very good pitch. And I’m convinced that you aren’t some kind of con man who preys on elderly women. I was wrong. I’m sorry for being so suspicious.”
“I forgive you,” Jamie teased, pleased that she’d finally seen the light. “People make that mistake all the time.” He took another bite of his ice cream. “Now it’s your turn. Your grandmother tells me you’re a photographer. Besides photographs of runaway foxes, what do you shoot?”
“Weddings, babies,” Regan said. “Happy occasions. I have a small studio in town, but almost all my photos are taken on-site. I work here during the summer and then go south with Ceci to Arizona for the winter.”
“Would you show me your photos?” he said.
“I have a really nice one of a guy who scared away those foxes. You might recognize him.”
Chuckling, Jamie put the top back on the carton and then got up and circled the granite-covered island. He handed her the carton. “Thank you. I needed that.”
“Me, too,” she replied, gathering up the cartons and returning them to the freezer.
They walked together toward the stairs. Regan faced him, her hand resting on the newel post. “I am attracted to you.” A wicked smile curled the corners of her mouth. “But I’m still not sure it’s a good idea to explore that.”
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