kind of a pushy woman,” he replied lightly.
A small laugh released from her. “I’m sure I’ve been called worse. I hope you’re a gin-and-tonic kind of man because that’s what I’ve got at the house.”
“Anything is fine,” he replied, his voice suddenly weary.
She pulled up in front of her house in the driveway that just barely held the length of her car. “Home, sweet home.” She unbuckled her seat belt and got out of the car at the same time as Bo.
“Nice,” he said. “I don’t remember this place looking like this. You must have put a lot of work into it.”
She was acutely aware of his presence just behind her as she walked up the porch and unlocked the door. The hot, sultry air intensified the scent of him...a fragrance of shaving cream and pleasant woodsy cologne. “It took me a full year to get rid of what once stood here and make this a real home.”
“Looks like you have a gift.”
She turned and looked where he pointed to the edge of the porch, where a vase of flowers sat on a folded note. A wave of irritation swept through her. If this was some sort of a charming courtship game it had gone on long enough.
She grabbed the vase and note and then ushered Bo inside. “Apparently I’ve picked up a secret admirer.” She set the vase in the center of the table next to the one from the day before. “Take off your jacket and get comfortable.” She gestured toward the beige sofa with bright green and turquoise throw pillows.
He took off his jacket and slung it across the back of one of the kitchen chairs. “Do you have any idea who your secret admirer might be?” he asked.
She pulled from a cabinet a large bottle of tonic and a bottle of gin, and then opened the refrigerator door to grab a couple of limes. “Not a clue,” she replied. “And honestly I think the whole thing is ridiculous. If some man is interested in me, then he should just step up to the plate and tell me. Lime?”
“Sounds good.”
As she cut up the limes he wandered the space, checking out the books on her turquoise-painted ladder bookcase, the green and blue knickknacks that she’d found to give the house a sense of home. He finally landed on the sofa. After handing him his drink, she sat on the opposite side of the sofa with her own.
“Why are you being so nice to me? Aren’t you afraid somebody in town will see you with me and you’ll be shunned?” he asked, his midnight-blue eyes holding her gaze.
She took a sip of the biting yet refreshing drink and then placed it on the coffee table in front of them. “I don’t pay much attention to what people think about me. I’m often on the unpopular side of an issue.” She offered him a sympathetic gaze. “You want to talk about your mother?”
He settled back against the cushion and took a long, deep drink from his glass. “Not really. I’ve had days to do nothing but think about her and now I’d much rather talk about you.”
“Me? Trust me, there isn’t that much to talk about. I was born and raised here. My mother ran off when I was six and I was left with a neglectful alcoholic father in a shanty that threatened to fall down whenever the wind blew. I went to college on a full scholarship and got my teaching degree. When I returned here my father had disappeared and I haven’t seen him since. And that’s my story.”
She leaned forward and grabbed her glass and then took another sip. She’d made her drink light on gin and heavy on tonic and had made Bo’s drink heavy on gin and light on tonic.
“So, your turn. Tell me what you’ve been doing for the last two years,” she asked. “Have you made yourself a new, happy life? Found a new love? I heard through the grapevine that you’re living in Jackson now.”
He nodded at the same time the sound of rain splattered against the window. “I opened a little bar and grill, Bo’s Place, although it’s nothing like the original.” His dark brows tugged together in a frown as if remembering the highly successful business he’d had here in town before he was ostracized.
He took another big drink and then continued, “There’s no new woman in my life. I don’t even have friends. Hell, I’m not even sure what I’m doing here with you.”
“You’re here because I’m a bossy woman,” she replied. She got up to refill his glass. “And I thought you could use an extra friend while you’re here.”
She handed him the fresh drink and then curled back up in the corner of the sofa. The rain fell steadily now. She turned on the end table lamp as the room darkened with the storm.
For a few minutes they remained silent. She could tell by his distant stare toward the opposite wall that he was lost inside his head.
Despite his somber expression, she couldn’t help but feel a physical attraction to him that she’d never felt before. Still, that wasn’t what had driven her to seek contact with him, to invite him into her home. She had an ulterior motive.
A low rumble of thunder seemed to pull him out of his head. He focused on her and offered her a small smile of apology. “Sorry about that. I got lost in thoughts of everything I need to get done before I leave town.”
“I wanted to talk to you about that,” she said.
He raised a dark brow. “About all the things I need to take care of?”
“No, about you leaving town.”
“What about it?”
She drew a deep breath, knowing she was putting her nose in business that wasn’t her own, and yet unable to stop herself. “Doesn’t it bother you knowing that Shelly’s murderer is still walking these streets, free as a bird?”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Why are you so sure I’m innocent?” he asked.
Claire had never had a problem speaking her mind or sharing her thoughts, but she found herself reluctant to truly answer his question, afraid that he’d think she was silly, or worse, the loony tune she already suspected he thought she might be.
“I’m three years younger than you and Shelly and I know it sounds crazy, but I was in love with your love for each other. You two were the shining example of what I wanted to find for myself someday. I watched you walking the streets, hand in hand, having ice cream outside the ice cream parlor.”
The words tumbled out of her, as if the more she spoke the less he’d think she was nuts. “I saw the way you looked at her, Bo. I know the reputation you had in town as being a caring, gentle soul, a loving son, and I don’t believe there was anything Shelly could have done that would have resulted in you hurting her.”
Bo stared at her for a long moment, his eyes a darker shade of blue than she’d ever seen them. “Thank you,” he finally said. “And of course it bothers me that her killer has never been brought to justice.”
“It bothers me so much I carry pepper spray everywhere I go,” she said. “I try to be inside the house with the door locked after dark.”
Bo took another drink, his gaze not leaving hers. “What does all this have to do with me leaving town?”
Claire
