Copper Beach

thought. He was fixing breakfast for the second morning in a row. She could not recall the last time anyone had prepared breakfast for her. Tomorrow morning she would have to return the favor.

    The summer dawn had arrived with rain, all in all, looking more like a midwinter dawn. Through the window she could see the steel-colored waters of the sea, but the neighboring islets and islands were lost in the mist.

    She took a teal-colored cowl-neck pullover and a pair of gray trousers out of her suitcase and headed for the adjoining bathroom. She had not packed for an extended stay. On the next trip into Seattle, she would have to stop by her condo to check her mail and pick up some more clothes and necessities.

    She grabbed her phone and checked her email. There was a new note from Nordstrom, announcing the advent of a summer sale, and a nice message from her very good friends at Zappos, telling her that new styles were available from one of her favorite brands of shoes. There were no new emails about the missing lab book or the upcoming auction.

    Phone in hand, she went out into the hall. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and a hint of cinnamon warmed the atmosphere. When she arrived in the kitchen, she found Sam at the stove, spatula in hand. His hair was still damp from the shower. The very interesting dark shadow of a beard that she had noticed in the wee small hours of the night was gone. He was dressed in dark pants and a black pullover.

    Newton was sitting on the floor, ears perked, watching Sam’s every move. He spared a moment to greet Abby again, and then returned to supervising the breakfast preparations.

    Sam looked at Abby, eyes heating a little. “Good morning.”

    “Good morning,” she said. “Did Newton get breakfast?”

    She felt awkward, not exactly shy but not really comfortable with the intimacy of their relationship. This was unfamiliar territory, she reflected, more easily navigated at night than in the daylight. But if Sam had any problems with the rapidly evolving status of their relationship, he gave no indication of it. He was acting as if everything from the psi-infused sex to eating breakfast together was all quite normal.

    “I fed Newton some of that fancy kibble you brought along,” Sam said. “I think that he would rather have a slice of the French toast that we’re going to eat.”

    “I told you, he’s a very smart dog. And it’s okay if he has a slice of French toast. Is the coffee ready yet?”

    “Help yourself. Mugs are in there.” Sam angled his head to indicate the cupboard.

    “Thanks.”

    She opened the door of the cupboard and took down a mug. “Can I pour you another cup?”

    “Yes, thanks.” He scrutinized her closely. “Any more dreams?”

    “None that involved Grady Hastings, thank goodness.” She picked up the pot. “You?”

    “None that involved Cassidy. I told you, we just need to perfect the experiment.”

    “Mmm.” She poured the coffee, trying to think of what to say next.

    “You’re not real good with the morning-after conversation, are you?” Sam said. “Yesterday I made allowances because your brother arrived.”

    “Stepbrother,” she corrected automatically.

    “But this morning we’ve got time to talk.”

    She sipped some coffee. “I thought men didn’t like the morning-after conversation.”

    He flashed her a wickedly sexy grin. “Depends on what actually happened the night before.”

    She flushed. “In our case, there always seems to be a lot going on the night before. There was me almost setting fire to a red-hot book in my bedroom. A midnight intruder. Bad dreams. A vault full of weird paranormal rocks with unknown powers. To say nothing of the stress of some of our precoital activities, such as finding a body and escaping a carjacking and kidnapping.”

    “Our relationship sure as hell hasn’t proceeded along a normal path. I’ll give you that.”

    “Exactly,” she said. “Maybe that’s why I’m not sure how to have a morning-after conversation with you. Or maybe I simply haven’t had a lot of experience in that department. I’ve had a few relationships, including one or two that I thought might have the potential to go the distance. But they’ve never lasted long, and I somehow know that going in, so I try not to get overly committed. For some reason, not spending the entire night with someone has always been my way of drawing the line.”

    “As long as you don’t have to face him at