Prepared to be polite and firm to whatever fanatical quilter I would find on the other side of the door, I pulled it open. Ryan was standing there.

"Hi," he said as he stood just outside the door. "Your grandmother said you were here." He looked toward Marc but didn't acknowledge him. Marc even waved hello but got no response. Ryan started to take a step inside with the same angry expression he'd had on the sidewalk in New York, but I put my hand on his stomach to stop him.

"What do you want?"

"I came to see you. I thought we could talk."

I looked back at Marc, who was watching the scene with a big grin on his face. I wanted to stay and figure out what was so funny to him, but I knew it was better to get Ryan out of there. "Let's go for a walk," I said.

"I'll start knocking down the wall," Marc called after me.

"Tomorrow," I shouted back. "Tonight is the club and I don't want any plaster or nails falling on anyone's head. And don't get any dust on that pile of quilts by the cash register. Nancy will kill me if the quilts get dirty."

"Whatever you want," Marc said. The grin even wider. Ryan moved toward him, but I pushed him out the door.

"What are you doing?" I demanded.

"What am I doing? What is it with you and that guy?"

"That guy? The guy who is renovating my grandmother's shop?" Ryan wasn't even the jealous type, or hadn't been until he dumped me and Marc came along. Of course, until he broke off the engagement I had been one of those in-love saps who didn't notice any other men on the planet. But if I was noticing one now, it wasn't really any of Ryan's business. "I don't want to have this conversation standing on the street," I said.

"So let's walk," he said as he took my hand. Since I had no choice, I followed as he led me down the street. We turned toward the river, walking two blocks to the edge of town. The river was looking gray and still, reflecting an unusually dark midmorning sky. It was about to storm. "How long have you known that guy?"

"Oh my God, Ryan. I met him the day after you broke up with me. I told you already. He's my grandmother's handyman."

"I don't like him. I don't think you should."

I thought for a second, but only for a second. "Well, I do like him. He's nice. He's funny. He's really into old buildings and making furniture." Ryan rolled his eyes. "Okay, then. He hasn't hurt me, and I like that in a man."

"Sleep with him, then," Ryan spat.

"Maybe I will," I shouted. At that moment I would have slept with Marc just for the revenge.

Ryan walked away from me, back in the direction we came from. The sky opened up and rain started falling on my head, but I couldn't move. What was I doing? I loved Ryan. I wanted to marry him, didn't I? Maybe he'd had a change of heart and I didn't give him the chance to tell me. Marc was a nice distraction, but was a flirtation with him really worth putting a future with Ryan in jeopardy?

I headed up the street toward him. I would catch up and we would talk. I would listen, without being angry or hurt or defensive, and whatever he told me I could deal with. I hoped.

I hurried back toward Ryan, but I couldn't find him. Hoping he was looking for me, with the same need to clear the air, I went back toward the shop. And I was right. When I turned the corner I saw Ryan outside the shop. But I had gotten his intention all wrong. He was standing over Marc, who was flat on his back on the sidewalk.

"Stay away from her," Ryan shouted and stormed off.

I ran over to Marc.

"Are you okay?" I helped him to his feet.

"Fine. Nice guy, your fiance."

"Ex-fiance," I said as I watched Ryan get in his car a few blocks down and drive away. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what to say."

"Don't apologize, for starters," Marc said as he gingerly touched his jaw and winced.

"Why would he hit you? Did he say?"

"No. But he didn't have to," he laughed. "He sure takes it badly when somebody gets in his way."

I was as much embarrassed by Ryan's behavior as I was touched by Marc's reaction. A few seconds ago I was running after Ryan, and now I was watching him walk away while I stood by Marc. The whole situation seemed to be getting out of hand.

Marc didn't seem to need bandages, and I wanted to do something for him, so I headed to the local grocery and grabbed a six-pack of imported beer. Maybe it wouldn't make up for Ryan's behavior, but it was something. And I'd have something fattening to calm my nerves.

When I got back Marc was sitting on the floor, leaning against the checkout counter. There was the box of quilting tools left in the shop for tonight's meeting on the counter, next to a pile of neatly folded quilts that had been hanging on the back wall. I took the box of tools and set it on the floor between us, hoping that the rotary cutters and scissors would ensure my chasteness.

It worked, at least for a few minutes. We both quietly drank a beer and I wondered if he noticed how awkward I felt.

"He's never been like that before." I finally brought up the elephant in the room.

"Don't worry about it. I tend to bring out the best in people." As he smiled, he winced.

"I don't know. You've made me feel pretty good." The words popped out of my mouth before I'd decided if it was really the right thing to say.

Marc took my hand and held it in his. "Thanks. I don't know what it is about you, Nell. You make me want to be the guy you think I am."

I watched how his fingers stroked mine. It felt dangerous and sexy, and I leaned in closer. He looked up at me. He looked as if he might kiss me, but he was taking his time about it. So I leaned in farther. I pressed my lips against his lightly, waiting for permission. Just when I was sure none was coming, he suddenly put his hand behind my head and pulled me in closer.

The rain was pouring down when I left Marc at the shop. We had sat like two teenagers and made out on the floor of the quilt shop. While the storm had kept most of the foot traffic off the street, it was still daytime and we were sitting in full view of a picture window and hadn't noticed or cared. It wasn't until Marc waved to me through the shop window that I realized that our private moment was actually open to anyone walking past.

I was a block from the shop when I saw Ryan's car parked at the curb. Clearly our conversation wasn't over, and I figured now was as good a time as any to continue it, but he wasn't in the car. I realized I was relieved. Being with Marc had put me in a good mood, and I had a feeling a conversation with Ryan would bring it to an end. Still, I walked the rest of the way home knowing I had to deal with my feelings for both men, and the sooner the better.

When I got to the house my grandmother and Nancy were helping Natalie pick out some flannel fabrics for a quilt she was making for her son. Barney was too engrossed in the fabric selections to do anything but lift his head toward me and wag a little.

"Marc at the shop?" Eleanor asked.

I held my breath, wondering if somehow word had reached her about my afternoon. Then, as innocently as possible, I answered. "Yeah, he's dying to knock down the wall between the stores. I told him to wait until tomorrow, but who knows if he'll listen."

"We don't want debris all over the place tonight for the club meeting."

"That's what I told him."

"Hopefully he'll listen." She picked up a bolt of blue cowboy fabric and showed it to Natalie. "Ryan was here."

"At the house?"

"Yes. He seemed upset."

"I saw him, at the shop," I said. "He must have come here afterward."

"Did you talk?"

"Shouted, actually."

"Well, at least you're communicating." Her voice was so monotone I couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic, but I let the comment pass.