back, her plans not stretching beyond getting out of the house now. Good thing she always kept her driver’s license and a gas card in the car’s glove compartment or she’d never have made it out of Massachusetts. She’d also found a few dollars’ worth of change in the car, but that was it.
She had suspected there was something inherently wrong with getting engaged to a spoiled bank vice president whose family just happened to own the financial institution he worked at and where she had all her accounts. And here she thought her misgivings had to do with all that blue blood that ran through his veins.
Then there was Mitch….
She watched him lower the car and tighten the lug nuts. He got up and held out the crowbar and jack.
“Here. Since you didn’t want my help to begin with, I’m sure you won’t mind cleaning up.”
She accepted the items, then flicked a glance down the road. Mitch followed her line of vision.
“What’s the matter? You expecting company?”
She laughed her response, then abruptly stopped. Was it naive to think that Rich wouldn’t follow her?
The sound of a barking dog made her jump. Then she recognized the over-zealous, roaring bark of this particular dog. She stared at the truck behind the Lexus.
“That’s not…” She met Mitch’s exasperated gaze. “You still have Goliath?”
His silence was all the answer she needed. She thrust the jack and crowbar back at him, then lifted her skirts and hurried in the direction of the truck.
Mitch stood planted to the spot on the asphalt, clutching the tools. He felt as if someone had grabbed the edges of the invisible rug that constituted his life and given it a good yank, throwing everything into chaos. Funny, it was the same way he had always felt when around Liz Braden. Actually, it depended on the day. Years ago he’d described her as the sunlight that had chased the shadows from the dark side of his soul. Tonight, she was definitely a rug-yanker.
He watched her open the truck door as enthusiastically as if she wore jeans and a T-shirt rather than a wedding dress. The aging brown-white-and-black dappled dog leapt out. If he didn’t know better, he would think the mutt recognized the woman who had rescued him from life as a mangy farm dog. He lapped repeatedly at her face and ran around her with more energy than he’d shown for years. Remembering Goliath’s whining in the truck before he’d even spotted the disabled car, he idly wondered if the dog had known what was coming all along.
Or maybe he was as much of a sucker for a pretty face as he was.
Mitch leaned against the bed of the truck, watching the two get reacquainted, Liz murmuring endearments and roughhousing with a dog he would have thought she’d forgotten by now. Forgotten much as she had forgotten him.
“God, how old is he?” she asked.
“Twelve.” Mitch cast a glance down the dark road. What had she been looking for?
“Don’t worry,” she said, stepping beside him, a puppy-like Goliath at her heels. “I lost the car following me a couple hundred miles back.”
“Car?” Mitch jerked toward her. “What car?”
“I’m joking. Like I said, there’s nothing to worry about.” He noted the teasing look in her eyes. “What are you doing out this late, anyway?”
“I…it’s…” he started, then stopped, the irony of the situation just now hitting him. “I’m coming back from a wedding reception in Maryland.” He tugged again at his tie. “Marc got married.”
She nodded, the warm silence of the night pressing in around Mitch along with the pure scent of her. “And you?” she asked.
“Me what?”
She motioned toward his tie and dress attire. “Are you…married?”
He made a point of slowly gazing at her dress. The bloodstain was limited to the one area. No splatters, not a trace on the long, lacy skirt. “Yep. Five years. Three kids. Five cats. A goat. All complete with white picket fence.”
Her eyes narrowed. He grinned.
“I’m joking,” he said, echoing her words of moments before. Hey, two could play at this game, couldn’t they? “Nope, I’m not married. One try at the altar was enough for me.”
“Cute. Really cute, McCoy.” She laughed. “Funny, I just realized the same thing about myself this morning. About one try at the altar, that is.” Her hazel eyes twinkled in a way that made it impossible to look away.
In that moment, it was almost too easy to forget she had once run her hand lovingly down his chest only to rip his heart out. Her gaze said as much as it ever had…maybe even more. Her luscious mouth just as little.
Concentrate on the bloodstain, McCoy. The bloodstain.
“Well, I guess I’d better get back on the road,” she said. “There’s a lot I have to do before I call it a night.”
Mitch squashed the urge to grasp her wrist, to ask her exactly what she had to do, where she had been, why she had changed the color of her hair…anything to make her stay a little longer.
His reaction surprised even him.
But rather than giving in to it, he pulled in a deep breath, then let loose a sharp whistle. Goliath loped back from the long grass at the side of the road. The dog burrowed his nose into Liz’s wedding dress and whined, then bounded into the truck.
“You staying at your grandmother’s place?” he asked, thinking of the old Victorian that hunkered at the edge of town. Though Old Man Peabody looked after it, no one had lived there since Liz’s maternal grandmother had died, and Liz herself had left seven years ago for parts unknown.
“I was thinking about it.”
He hiked an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going in the wrong direction?”
She shivered visibly despite the warm air. “I…I thought I’d take a look around town and see what’s changed first. You know, this being my first time back in so long.”
He nodded as if the idea made perfect sense. It made none. What was she hoping to see at twelve-thirty in the morning? He looked back down the road. “Well, I probably won’t be crossing paths with you again before you leave. Have a nice visit, won’t you?”
Tucking her wayward white skirt around her legs, she climbed into the Lexus. He closed the door for her, but not before he caught a glimpse of her spike-heeled red shoes. He jammed his fingers through his hair.
“Goodbye, Mitch,” she said through the open window.
“Right, ’bye.”
He stepped back from the door to allow her to drive away. He should be getting into his truck, heading for the empty McCoy farmhouse a couple of miles away. But he stood stock-still, his gaze plastered to the rear end of the Lexus. He barely noticed the hazard lights were still flashing. His entire body pounded with lust. Lust remembered and re-ignited.
Liz
