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Cash waved back. “Too many veterans wind up like that,” he commented quietly.
    â€œNot you,” Rory said proudly.
    Cash smiled at him and ruffled his hair. “No. Not me. How about going to the Statue of Liberty? It’s closed, so we can’t go up in it, but we can see it. Are you game?”
    â€œLead me to it!” Rory laughed.
    Cash took Tippy’s slender hand and locked her fingers into his, noting their coldness and faint trembling. It was like electricity sparking between them. Tippy caught her breath audibly. She looked up with wide, fascinated eyes, feeling as if the ground had rocked under her feet. It was magic!
    He searched her eyes. “Lesson One, Page One, Hand-holding,” he whispered as Rory paused to look in a store window.
    She laughed breathlessly. It sounded like silver bells.

CHAPTER THREE
    T HE DAY SPENT SIGHTSEEING with Cash was, Tippy thought later, one of the best days of her entire life. He seemed to know New York like the back of his hand, and he enjoyed sharing little-known bits of history with Tippy and Rory.
    â€œHow do you know so much about this place?” Rory wanted to know when they were back in Tippy’s apartment that evening.
    â€œMy best friend in basic training was from New York City,” he confided. “He was a gold mine of information!”
    Tippy laughed. “I have a friend who’s like that about Nassau,” she said. “She’s on a modeling trip now, to Russia, of all places.”
    â€œWhat is she modeling?”
    Tippy gave him a mischievous look. “Swimsuits.”
    â€œYou’re kidding!”
    â€œI’m not! The powers that be thought it would be sexy tohave her pose with the Kremlin in the back ground, wearing fur boots and a fur coat.”
    â€œShe’ll be pickled if she does that here, won’t she?” he asked.
    â€œIt’s fake fur,” she pointed out, laughing. “But it’s very expensive fake fur, and it looks real.”
    â€œHow about a sandwich, Cash?” Rory called from the kitchen.
    â€œNot for me, thanks, Rory. I’m going back to my hotel to unwind,” he added with a smile. “I had a great time today.”
    â€œSo did I, Cash,” Rory said sincerely. “Are you coming back tomorrow?”
    â€œAre you?” Tippy echoed.
    He glanced from Rory’s curious expression to Tippy’s radiant one. “Why not?” he mused, smiling. “I can stand a tour of the museums if you can.”
    â€œI love museums!” Rory enthused.
    â€œAs long as I don’t have to pose in one.” Tippy sighed. “I have terrible emotional scars from posing with one leg up, leaning back, in front of a Rodin sculpture for four hours.”
    â€œI wonder if it’s the one I’m thinking of?” Cash drawled, chuckling when her cheeks went pink.
    â€œI’m sure it was one that contained totally clothed people,” she lied.
    He shook his head. “You wish,” he said. “What time do you people get up on a holiday week?”
    â€œEight,” Rory said.
    Tippy nodded. “We’re not big on late nights around here. One of us is used to military routine, which be gins at daylight, and the other one has to get up before daylight to work on films,” she said, tongue in cheek.
    â€œEight it is, then. I know where there’s a bakery,” he toldthem. “They have homemade cinnamon buns, bear claws, filled doughnuts…”
    â€œI can’t have sweets,” Rory replied sadly. He pointed at Tippy. “She has no willpower. If something sweet comes in the door, it will never leave.”
    Tippy laughed delightedly. “He’s right. I’ve spent most of my life fighting excess pounds. We have bacon and eggs for breakfast. Pure protein. No bread.”
    â€œShades of basic training.” He sighed. “Okay. Can we have breakfast here? But you’d better make