Lora said in an attempt to goad Jon. “And I play a mean game of strip poker.”
Jon didn’t crack.
Chuckling, Dr. Reed said, “See? Isn’t she cute? Lora, I think it’s time to let the dogs and cats back inside for the night. Jon, how about getting me a pain pill and helping me to bed?”
As Jon assisted Dr. Reed, Lora fumed and fussed her way back into the kitchen with a platter of dirty dishes and a bad temper. Jon was up to something, that much was clear. He didn’t trust her, that’s why he was really here.
Why should he trust you? a niggling voice chirped in the back of her mind.
“Oh, shut up!” she snarled.
The animals were all begging at the door. They came inside in one big whoosh, tails wagging, snouts nuzzling, bodies coiling around her legs.
It was startling being surrounded by so many critters! And, truth be known, a little comforting. Tropical fish didn’t interact a lot and never when actually outside of their aquarium, of course, so this was all new. The white cat rubbed against Lora’s shoe and Lora reached down and picked it up. The cat regarded her with a raspy purr and adoring blue eyes. Hard to believe she and Boggle belonged to the same species.
“The fact is,” she whispered into the cat’s ear, “I’m sneakier than Jon. I also have a lofty goal to fuel my fire—true love. Well, the possibility of true love, at least. Plus, I need to get those meddlesome females out of my life before they marry me off to the unsuspecting barber across the street. Or a teenager,” she added with a shudder. “With all that going for me, why should I be worried about what Jon thinks or what Jon wants or even that he seems determined to interfere with my plans?”
The cat kneaded her claws and purred. If that wasn’t a resounding vote of confidence, what was?
“The cat’s deaf,” Jon said from the doorway.
Startled, Lora twirled to face him. “What?”
“Frosty is deaf. White cats with blue eyes often are. The white gene can induce withering of the inner ear. Frosty’s former owners couldn’t handle it, that’s why Victor adopted him.”
“Oh. She’s a him.”
“So spilling your guts to that cat is kind of pointless.”
Yikes! What had he heard her saying? Setting the cat down, she said, “How did you know I was spilling my guts, which I wasn’t, by the way. Were you eavesdropping?”
He smiled. “Don’t worry, I didn’t hear a word. Listen, we have to talk. Come with me.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “We can talk right here.”
“No. Come outside.”
“It’s dark out there.”
“Are you afraid of the dark?”
She wanted to say, No, I’m afraid of you. She said nothing.
“We’ll turn on the porch light.”
Leaving the dogs at the door, they went into the backyard. Jon switched on a light and the overgrown path to a small structure at the far end of the yard glowed with soft light.
The structure turned out to be a garden gazebo, less than eight feet across with bench seats on three sides. It had probably been charming at one time, but the drizzly north coast weather had stripped it of most of the white paint and dry rot had tilted the foundation. Jon sat on one creaking bench and Lora sat on another.
While she waited for him to gather his thoughts, she admired the way the light hit his cheekbones and forehead and glinted off his hair. This was the north coast in April—no way his hair got sun-bleached around here unless he went to a tanning booth or had it artificially bleached and she just couldn’t see him in either scenario. That meant he’d moved here from somewhere sunny and not too long ago.
Somewhere sunny. Him in a bathing suit, bare back crusted with glittering sand, sunlight warming his big shoulders. Suntan oil, warm ocean breezes, margaritas in a thermos. Her beside him—
What!
It was this setting. Romantic, hidden, the perfect place for crazy fantasies.
Another scene unfolded in her head. In this small drama, she was alone with Jon, not on the beach, not in the blazing sun, but here in this gazebo, the fragrance of flowers mingling with the nearby smell of the sea, his eyes smoldering as he looked deep into her soul. She could just about feel his fingers touch her face and the heat of his mouth as it closed over hers—
Jon cleared his throat and the wild images flitted away.
Still, he said nothing.
“Not that this hasn’t been fascinating,” Lora said stiffly, now wanting to escape her imagination as much as a confrontation, “but if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going to…well, bed.” She rose to her feet.
“Drop the act,” Jon said softly.
She sat back down. “What act?”
Now he stood. Pacing back and forth in small controlled steps, he shot her a laser-like glance. “I know what you’re up to.”
He did? “You do?”
“Yes. And I think it’s appalling.” The pacing stopped, the glance turned into a glare. “You’re trying to con Victor into a marriage.”
How did he know this? Lora racked her brain, trying to recall if she’d said anything to anyone about her plans for Dr. Reed and her mother. She hadn’t, she was sure of it. Wait a second, she wasn’t trying to con anyone, she was simply facilitating romance. There was a difference! Fired by righteous indignation, she said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He laughed. “You’re good, I’ll give you that. When I first saw you this morning, I thought—well, it doesn’t matter what I thought. You’ve been lying since the moment I met you. Boggle isn’t even your cat, is he? That’s why you didn’t know much about him. You just used him to get close to Victor and when you found out he wasn’t there, you grilled me about where he was. I tried calling you this afternoon—big surprise, the phone number you gave me turned out to be disconnected. You showed up at the hospital with flowers that no one at the clinic sent—I checked with all the employees so don’t bother denying it. Now you’ve wormed your way into Victor’s house.”
As there was more than a grain of truth in what he said, Lora went on the offensive. “I’m not the one holding a secret meeting out in the backyard,” she said. Not liking the disadvantage of her head being lower than his, she stood. She was still at a disadvantage as he was quite a bit taller than she but unless she climbed up on a bench, this was going to have to do.
“I’m not holding a secret meeting.”
“Then why are we hiding out here?”
“So we won’t disturb Victor.”
“At least I treat him like an adult.”
This
