the direction of the vanished car. “Dirtwad,” she muttered, then continued toward the entrance. Except she suddenly spun on Aidan and said, “You are such a phony,” and he said, “What?” and she said, with much gesticulating, “You might talk tough and all, do the whole I don’t give a damn about people routine, like that’s supposed to scare people off.” She yanked open the store’s door before he could do it for her. “Except anybody with two eyes in their head can see it’s all just a great big act.”
Inexplicably furious, Aidan grabbed Winnie’s arm as soon as they were inside. She whirled around, her expression a combination of irritation and curiosity. But fear? Not a bit of it.
“Believe me,” he snapped, his own heart pounding five times harder than hers had a moment ago, “I give a damn. About Robbie, about the people who matter to me. Just because I prefer to keep that circle small doesn’t mean I don’t care about the people who are in it.” He let her go. “Is that clear?”
Their gazes tangled for several seconds before, word-lessly, she headed toward the counter in back. And as she did, Aidan became acutely aware that every set of male eyes in the place veered to her like divining rods.
His forehead knotting, he tried desperately to see what they found so damned interesting and failed miserably. Yes, he supposed she had a way of moving that was somewhat…arresting. And what man in his right mind wouldn’t notice her hair, shiny as wet paint beneath the lights? Or the way her worn jeans cupped her legs and bottom below that soft as cream velvet jacket? But aside from that…Winnie was nothing extraordinary. Certainly not the kind of woman to make a man’s eyes bug out.
And certainly there was absolutely no reason whatsoever for the bizarre spike of jealousy whenever one of the local yokels gave her the eye.
Oddly, she had no problem with telling the balding, potbellied clerk exactly what they needed. To the man’s credit, he at least waited until Winnie’s gaze drifted elsewhere before looking to Aidan for a nod of confirmation. Then he vanished into the back, only to return moments later. With only the battery.
“Sorry, we don’t have the alternator in stock. But tell you what, let me see…” He started tapping on a computer keyboard in front of him. “Uh…yeah, I can get one of my Albuquerque stores to send one up tomorrow, if that’s okay. Or I can put it on hold if you want to drive on down there and pick it up yourself.”
“Damn,” Winnie muttered, then turned to Aidan. “I can’t possibly ask you to drive to Albuquerque. The round trip would take, what? Two hours, at least?”
“Probably three, this time of day.” Aidan gritted his back teeth. “But I don’t mind. Really.”
“Of course you mind, it would mean giving up most of your day. And then I wouldn’t be able to leave before late this afternoon, anyway. Call me crazy, but I’m not real big on driving through vast stretches of nothing after dark.” She turned to the clerk. “Any other supply stores in town?”
“Sure thing,” the very helpful clerk—clearly as spell-bound as every other male in the place—said, hauling a phone book up onto the counter. “Why don’t you go ahead and call around while I take care of those folks over there, then let me know what you decide, how’s that?”
With a huge sigh, Winnie pulled out her cell phone and started calling. Five minutes and as many phone calls later, she gave Aidan wide, spooked eyes.
Because, for reasons known only to God, there was not a single alternator that would fit her truck within fifty miles of Santa Fe.
One more day.
That much, she could handle, Winnie told herself as they headed back to Tierra Rosa, Annabelle panting hotly in her ear. Her skin prickled with the memory of those strong arms wrapped around her, the feel of warm, solid male chest against her back, and she thought, Okay, so it’s been a long time.
Of course, she reminded herself, Aidan had only been saving her life, it wasn’t like he wanted to hold her or anything, so it didn’t count. Her hormones snickered and said, Oh, believe me, honey…it counts.
Winnie hazarded a peek at his profile as they drove—the set jaw, the dour expression, the eyes focused straight ahead—and tried to figure out why in the name of all that was holy she was attracted to the man. Not in any logical kind of way, but on some very basic level that could really mess with her head if she let it.
Oh, sure, he was good-looking—if you were into the werewolf wannabe look—but that alone wasn’t enough to attract her to somebody. Anymore. Yeesh, she couldn’t even remember when she’d last gone stupid over a bunch of muscles and a cute smile. Not that Aidan’s smile—if he had one at all—was cute, although she dimly remembered that he’d sure smiled plenty when they’d first met, trying so hard to convince her he and June would be perfect parents for her baby…
Boom!
And that, boys and girls, was the sound of the reality boulder crashing into the middle of her very wayward thoughts. Because the bizarreness of her attraction to Aidan Black notwithstanding, his being her son’s adoptive father sure as heck called a screeching halt to that little fantasy, didn’t it—?
“Yes?” Aidan said beside her, his clipped response to his cell phone jarring her out of pointless musings. “I’m driving, Robbie, if a state trooper sees me, I’m screwed…No, Flo didn’t tell me, she mustn’t have known, either…Yes, of course, I’ll be right there.”
He tossed the phone into a cup holder and glanced over as a host of “uh-ohs” sprang to life in the pit of Winnie’s stomach. “Apparently Robbie neglected to tell anyone he had early dismissal today. Since Flo won’t be back until later, I need to pick him up.” He scratched his chin. “He’s already been waiting for fifteen minutes.” His fingers flexed on the steering wheel. “And the school’s on the way back to the property. If I drop you off first, it adds another ten minutes—”
“Not a problem,” Winnie said, her throat clenching much farther down than throats normally clench.
More flexing. “Are you sure?”
“Oh, for pity’s sake, Aidan. I put my big-girl panties on this morning, I can deal with it, okay?”
At least, she’d do her supercalifragilistic best.
Backpack thumping, hair flying, Robbie streaked toward them the instant they nosed into the school parking lot…only to come to a complete halt when he noticed Winnie. And, presumably, Annabelle, who’d thrust her head out Winnie’s open window to do her is-life-great-or-what? barking/quivering thing. Not until the kid got closer did Winnie notice the tear-tracked cheeks, his earlier upset now apparently forgotten in the combination of shock and apprehension at seeing Winnie again.
All of which he conveniently set aside long enough to hurl a very indignant, “How come nobody picked me up?” the moment he scrambled into the backseat with the dog.
“Because nobody knew they let you loose early today,” Aidan answered mildly, steering the truck back toward the road, and Winnie focused in front of her, hearing her child, smelling his father, trying not to combust.
“There was a notice and everything! It was in my backpack!”
“And you’re sure of that, are you? Because I certainly didn’t see it when I went
