offered to take her to a funeral.
“I like my life just fine, Case. Other than the occasional run-in with my dad, I’m pretty happy with the way things have turned out for me. I own a business I love... I have a lot of interesting friends. I’m not interested in finding a man to take care of me.”
His temper started a slow boil. “We’re talking about a party, Ms. Winslow. It’s hardly a basis for what you’re thinking about.”
“True. But if we end up in bed together, I’d rather no one else know about it. That way when we’re done, there won’t be any messy explanations to deal with.”
When we’re done... Maybe if he hadn’t felt so rotten, he might have been able to understand why her blithe prediction about their future bothered him so much.
“Fine,” he said, his jaw clenched. “I won’t ask again. If you want me, you’ll have to say so. I’m done here.”
If you want me, you’ll have to say so. Mellie replayed those words in her head a thousand times over the next four days. Her departure from Case’s house Sunday evening was not her finest hour. He had stormed out of the room, and she had left without saying goodbye.
She was ashamed of her behavior. Her only excuse was that, even sick, Case Baxter made her jittery and uncertain about things she had always seen as rock solid in her life. For one, her assumption that having an intimate relationship with a man was something she didn’t have time for.
Honestly, she worked so hard and kept so busy, she rarely thought about what she was missing. She dated now and then, but with only a couple of exceptions over the years, she’d never felt an inescapable urge to have sex just for the sake of having sex.
She thought about it. Alone at night. In the privacy of her bedroom. But her fantasy lovers were compliant and undemanding...exactly the opposite of Case Baxter.
What did he want with her?
By the time she closed the office for a late lunch on Thursday afternoon, she had brought her books up to date, signed contracts with three new clients and worked herself into a mental frenzy of uncertainty. Instead of heading home, she pointed her car in the direction of the diner.
She had to talk to someone, or she’d explode. Amanda was the logical choice.
Fortunately, the sheriff’s wife was in her usual spot, smiling and swapping jokes with her regular customers. Mellie had purposely waited until almost two o’clock, hoping that the noon rush would be over and Amanda would have time for a chat. Because of the subject matter, Mellie snagged the booth in the far back corner, hoping to talk quietly without being overheard.
When the other woman headed her way, Mellie waved a hand at the opposite side of the booth. “Do you have time to take a break? I need some advice.”
Amanda said a word to her second in command and slid onto the bench seat with a sigh. “Success is killing me,” she said. But the smug pride on her face told a different story.
“You love it,” Mellie said.
“True. What’s up, girlfriend? It’s not like you to drop by in the middle of the day.”
Mellie played with the saltshaker, feeling the tops of her ears warm. This was embarrassing. “I may have done something stupid.”
Amanda leaned in, her elbows on the table, hands clasped under her chin. “Do tell. Are we talking five-hundred-dollar-shoes stupid or forgot-to-thaw-the-chicken-for-dinner stupid?”
“It’s more of a personal matter.”
“Oh. My. Gosh. You’ve had sex.”
“No. Well, sort of. But not really. You’re missing the point.”
Amanda raised an eyebrow. “Do I need to give you a lesson about the birds and the bees? Was there nudity involved? Skin-to-skin contact? At your age, I’d think you’d be pretty clear about the definition.”
Mellie glanced around wildly, making sure no one was in earshot. “Lower your voice, please,” she hissed. “I’d rather this not end up on the evening news.”
“Who is it?” Amanda demanded. “The new wrangler over at Hartley Ranch? Or, no, it’s the dentist...right? He’s asked you out a half dozen times and you finally said yes.”
Mellie smiled, despite her turmoil. “It’s not the dentist. He kept wanting to whiten my teeth...not at all romantic.”
“Then who?”
“Back up,” Mellie said. “I didn’t have sex. Or at least not all the way. More like teenagers in the back of a car.”
Amanda appeared to be struck dumb, her eyes wide with astonishment. “It’s like I don’t even know you,” she said.
Mellie wondered suddenly if she should have kept things to herself. But she couldn’t move forward without at least an amateur second opinion. She decided to come at the situation from another angle. “I’ve been invited to the party at the Cattleman’s Club Saturday night.”
“Okayyyy... So what’s the stupid thing you did?”
“I said no.”
“Ah. And now you want to change your mind.”
“Maybe. But what if he’s already asked someone else?”
“Is that likely?”
“I’m not sure. He was mad when I turned him down. Said he wasn’t going to ask again. That I would have to tell him if I wanted to go.” She fudged a bit. That wasn’t exactly how Case had phrased it. He’d said Mellie would have to say she wanted him.
“I still haven’t heard a name.” Amanda’s brow creased.
“The who isn’t important. Because even if I decide to contact him, I don’t have a dress to wear.”
“That part’s easy.” Amanda sat back and took a sip of the iced tea she’d brought with her to the table. “Last year when Nathan and I were invited to the governor’s mansion for a law enforcement ball, I bought a dress I never wore. I decided the color didn’t work for me and the skirt was way too long and too hard to hem. But the dress was on clearance, so I couldn’t return it. You and I are about the same size. Plus, you’re taller, so I think it will work. Why don’t I bring it by your house this evening?”
“That would be great.” Except that Mellie had been counting on a lack of wardrobe choices as her reason not to go to the party.
Amanda glanced at her watch. “I’ve gotta get back to work. I’ll text you when I’m on my way...okay?”
“Sure.”
Amanda stood and tapped the table with her finger. “You can’t keep his name a secret forever. If the dress works, the price for my fashion donation is full disclosure.”
“I
