Devin had been at the trailhead by seven-thirty because he was pitiful. He’d said eight-thirty, but he’d thought that it would be more decent if he hiked up and called for her at her door.
But would that be trespassing? She’d said it that way, You’re the first person to ever trespass on my property. Maybe he shouldn’t go without an invitation.
Which had left him cooling his heels in the lighthouse meadow for half an hour and wondering if instead he might have offended her for not returning after work the previous night and now she wouldn’t come. Again he stood at the trailhead.
No, he decided again. Too pushy.
Then he wondered if he’d been too high pressure by even inviting her out. It sounded suspiciously like a date. To kill time, he couldn’t go to work on the cottage; it would just
