Absolutely, Positively

he did. He needed a sense of home more than any man she had ever known.

    Gordon had appeared at the door of Abberwick Tea & Spice just as Molly was turning theCLOSED sign in the window. He had stuck one foot in the door and made another pitch for financing. Molly had allowed him to ramble on about his new expansion plans as she tidied the shop for the night. When he had finished his arguments in favor of using Abberwick funds to promote Gordon Brooke Espresso Bars, she had politely refused. Again.

    Gordon had turned quite red in the face. He seemed unable to accept either her unwillingness to finance him or her engagement to Harry. The two seemed to be linked together in Gordon's mind, and for some reason it was the latter that apparently annoyed him the most.

    “I just don't get it, Molly.” Gordon dumped the papers into a leather file. “Why are you so sure you can trust him?”

    “It's none of your business, is it?”

    Gordon contrived to appear hurt. “We've known each other a long time. It's only natural that I'm concerned about you.”

    “Let's be honest here.” Molly leaned against the spice counter and regarded Gordon with an impatience she did not bother to conceal. “What you're really asking me is how do I know that Harry is not another you, isn't it? How do I know I won't discover the hard way that he has a taste for pretty counter assistants?”

    Gordon flushed. “Don't twist my words.”

    “I don't owe you any explanations,” she continued. “But the truth is, I'm absolutely, positively certain that Harry is not another Gordon Brooke. How do I know this? I think it has something to do with the way he hums.”

    Gordon ignored that. “It's not a joke, damn it. I'm just trying to keep you from making a big mistake. One that could cost you a fortune.”

    “I doubt if it will cost me as much as financing several new Gordon Brooke Espresso Bars.”

    “The espresso bars would be an investment,” Gordon insisted. “That's a whole different matter. This is your future I'm concerned about. Molly, you control a lot of money through the Abberwick Foundation. Chances are the assets will continue to grow through the years. How can you be sure that you'll be able to keep it out of Trevelyan's hands? You've made him your technical consultant, for Christ's sake.”

    “So?”

    “So he'll be making all the important decisions.”

    “No, he won't. I will be making the important decisions.” Molly was thoroughly irritated now. “Why does everyone assume that I'm a complete idiot when it comes to the Abberwick Foundation? What makes you think that I'm going to turn control of the assets over to Harry or anyone else?”

    Gordon waved his hands in a soothing gesture. “Take it easy. Calm down. I was just trying to point out the facts.”

    “The heck you were. You're trying to undermine my relationship with my fiancé. I'm not going to listen to another word.”

    “Okay, okay. If that's the way you're going to be about it, fine. But don't blame me when you wake up some morning and discover the assets of the Abberwick Foundation have vanished sometime during the night.”

    “Out. Now.”

    “I'm leaving.” Gordon clutched his file of papers and started to back toward the door. “But if you had an ounce of common sense, you'd—” He broke off abruptly as he collided heavily with Harry, who had just opened the door. “Ooph.”

    Harry didn't flinch under the impact, but Molly noticed that Gordon bounced a little.

    Gordon recovered and swung around to see who was standing behind him. “What the hell are you doing here, Trevelyan?”

    “I'm engaged to Molly, remember?” Harry said.

    “You could have knocked,” Gordon muttered.

    “The door was unlocked.”

    “Gordon was just leaving.” Molly gave Gordon a steely look. “Isn't that right?”

    “Yeah, yeah, I'm on my way,” Gordon grumbled.

    “Don't let me stop you.” Harry moved politely out of the doorway.

    Tessa emerged from the storage room. “The labels are done, Molly. I'm off.”

    Molly stilled. She glanced at Tessa, and then she looked at Gordon.

    “Gordon?” she said softly.

    “What?” He turned to scowl at her from the doorway.

    “Want some advice?”

    He looked distinctly wary. “What sort of advice?”

    Molly tapped one finger on the counter, thinking swiftly. “You put out a good product. I don't care for coffee, but I know that yours is some of the best in the