“I have such a thing for ankle bracelets.” Reaching down, he’d caressed her calf, then stolen her anklet right off her leg. She hadn’t even had the strength to protest as he’d put it in his pocket.
His wicked expression had told her he’d taken it as a souvenir.
The pounding in her heart had said, let him.
That had been the last time she’d been alone with Johnny for a while. Because the next time she saw him—when he was home from college for Thanksgiving weekend—she’d been wearing another guy’s jacket. So she could never tell him that from the first time she’d laid eyes on him, she’d fallen headfirst into the most intense infatuation of her life. She couldn’t have owned up to her many erotic dreams after their one, much-too-brief kiss.
No. Those were not exactly the kinds of things a girl could tell her boyfriend’s older brother. Especially not one as rebellious—and hot—as Johnny Walker. Because she would never have been able to tell what he might do with such information.
Or how she might react to it.
He interrupted her musings. “Tell me more about this car accident you had.”
“I’m fine,” she assured him, “it wasn’t that serious.”
“You never could lie worth a damn.”
Smiling, she elaborated. “I got T-boned by an uninsured, unlicensed driver. It took a while, but I’m fully recovered. Though I don’t know if my insurance company is.”
“I figured it had to have been bad, Emma Jean, because I know even a bald head wouldn’t have stopped you from being here if you could.”
“Just Emma,” she murmured, surprised by the concern lacing his tone. Not to mention his certainty that she would have been in Joyful if she’d been able. She’d figured other people would notice her absence at the funeral and make some negative assumptions. Not Johnny.
His unexpected confidence in her was a strong reminder of one thing she’d tried to forget in her years away from this place. Though he hadn’t known her long, Johnny Walker had known her better than anyone else. She’d spilled her most secret heart to him in the few short hours they’d shared together.
The acknowledgement almost hurt, making her flinch.
He glanced over. “You okay? In pain? Emma?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“We’re almost to the house. If you want to give me your keys, I’ll get somebody to bring your car over later.”
Keys. The keys! She looked at him sheepishly. “I’m so sorry, Johnny, I forgot. I don’t have keys to the house. I have to go by and pick them up from the Realtor.”
He stiffened.
“I really hate to be such a bother.”
“It’s not a bother,” he insisted. “But, knowing there’s only one realty office in town, can I assume you mean Jimbo Boyd’s place?”
At her nod, she heard him give an audible sigh. Then he looked at his watch. “It’s twenty till six.” He lowered his voice, almost as if speaking to himself. “The office should be closed by now. I’m sure she’s…the secretary’s…left.”
She shrugged. “Probably. But I told Mr. Boyd I’d be getting in around dinnertime. He said he’d be working late on some paperwork and that I should just knock if the front door was locked.”
The tenseness in his shoulders appeared to ease a bit. “Okay, no problem,” he said with a nod as he pulled over to turn the SUV around. “Let’s go to Mr. Boyd’s office.”
THOUGH SHE’D RAISED her voice and refused to budge out of the way, Daneen Walker had finally realized that nothing short of the miraculous landing of a spaceship in the middle of the street—or possibly a blue-light special on support hose—was going to prevent Cora Dillon from barreling into the Boyd Realty office. The woman was as relentless about her money as she was about her gossiping, and she wanted to get paid now.
She didn’t see a spaceship, and the closest K-Mart was miles away, but Daneen got a miracle, anyway. The rumble of an engine pulling up along the front curb made Cora take a step back and turn around so Daneen could come all the way outside.
“Isn’t that Johnny?” Cora asked. She moved one work-worn hand up to shield her eyes from the late-afternoon sun shining directly onto the front of the building.
Daneen nodded, recognizing the SUV. Her heart sank and her stomach tightened. As if Cora wasn’t bad enough, now she had to try to act naturally in front of Johnny? This was bad. Johnny Walker knew her better than just about anyone. He usually saw through her lies whenever she tried to tell one. He had that prosecutor thing down pat, as Daneen had learned more than once in the years since she’d been related to the man.
She should’ve hung up on Jimbo as soon as she’d heard his voice last night. Or never answered the phone to begin with, since she had caller ID. Then she might not have been such a pushover this afternoon and wouldn’t have been caught unaware by the biggest busybody in town…and by Johnny.
Since Cora was no more able to turn her eyes away from the hunkiest, most talked-about man in Joyful than any other female, Daneen took advantage of her distraction and risked a quick button-check of her blouse and skirt. All clear.
“Who’s that with him?” Cora continued.
Daneen hadn’t even noticed the other occupant of the car. Like Cora, she shielded her eyes, tightening her jaw as she spied a woman’s blond head inside the vehicle. “I have no idea.”
Then Johnny was out of the car, walking around to the passenger’s side. He looked up and saw them, but instead of returning Daneen’s friendly wave, he froze, as if surprised to see her. Why he’d be surprised to see her standing outside her own place of employment, she couldn’t say.
Nor could Daneen say much of anything else when the other door of his SUV opened and a long, slim female leg slid out. The day suddenly seemed to get a little cloudier, and the mouthful of air she’d just inhaled turned stale in her lungs.
Daneen tensed, watching Johnny square up those big, broad shoulders of his, then help the woman out. They exchanged a few words as he easily lifted her down.
The blonde leaned into him, hobbling a bit as they approached the front of the building. Daneen rolled her eyes…typical woman’s trick, she’d used it herself. A twisted ankle was a good way to get chest to chest with any hunky male with a hero complex. Straight Vixen-101 stuff.
The question remained—who was the blond-haired bimbo trying women’s tricks on Johnny Walker, the man Daneen had grown used to thinking of as her personal property?
IF JOHNNY hadn’t already gotten out of the truck by the time he spotted Daneen standing outside Jimbo’s office, he would have come up with some lame excuse and driven away. The last thing he wanted was to bring the two women face-to-face within the first hour of Emma Jean’s arrival back in town.
Too late now. Emma wanted her key, and Daneen would
