“Where?” she blurted.
“Arizona.”
“What?” She couldn’t have heard his response. She darn well wouldn’t give away how breathless the suggestion had left her. “We can’t.”
“Why not? We need to talk.”
“Talk?” Her senses were still reeling. But she felt sure talk wasn’t the only thing on Mitch’s agenda. She tried to ignore her shiver of pleasure at the thought, to forget about what he might have meant and focus on what he had actually said. The idea of conversation—of talking—with Mitch made her pause.
If they were completely alone with no fear of anyone breaking in on them, would he finally open up and tell her what had happened to him?
If they were completely alone—
“We need some time together.”
He seemed to have read her mind, although considering the jumbled state of her emotions, she wouldn’t have been surprised to learn her expression had given her away.
She swallowed hard. They stood so close, she had nowhere else to look—nowhere else she wanted to look—but into his clear blue eyes. Obviously, he did plan more than just conversation. She couldn’t deny how much she wanted that, too.
But once they had crossed that line, would she be able to cross back again?
“Andi, we need the right place to talk, and that danged sure isn’t here.”
“I’m leaving for the airport in just a few minutes.”
“I know that. So am I.”
Her jaw dropped. “You’re riding with us?”
He shook his head. “No. At breakfast, Jed mentioned someone needed to give you a lift. I volunteered to take you to the airport. And then, if you’re willing, I’d like to go with you to Phoenix.”
Her heartbeat went into triple time. She had to force herself to protest. “I’m only going overnight.”
“And you’re leaving the kids at your mother-in-law’s for a sleepover.”
She swallowed a gasp. “How do you know?”
“Jed mentioned that, too.”
There was no way now she could mistake what he was asking, what he wanted. Something much riskier than their kiss. They might have only this one chance...
“One night,” he murmured. “Before we say goodbye once and for all.”
Her breath caught at the thought of never seeing him again. She already had too many sad memories, too many things she couldn’t go back in time to change. But she could fix this. She could end things between them on a better note than she had before. She could finally satisfy the need—her need—to make up for walking away from him.
He lifted his hand to her cheek.
As always, she tilted her head and nestled against his palm. “One night,” she whispered.
And one chance that could lead to something more.
Chapter Ten
From the driver’s seat of their rental car, Mitch could look into the rearview mirror and see both Trey and Missy strapped into their seats. A better view than the one to his right, where Andi sat staring through the front windshield without seeing a thing, he’d bet.
“Look, Mitch,” Trey yelled from the rear seat, pointing to the designs carved into the highway’s retaining wall. “Bi-i-ig lizards!”
“I see them, buddy. There are lots of them, aren’t there?”
“Yeah. Bi-i-ig lizards. And bi-i-ig trees.”
On their ride to Fountain Hills, the kid pointed out the planes banking toward them, the palm trees in the distance and every single lizard they passed. Trey’s chatter helped fill the silence from Andi’s corner of the car.
When she had finally agreed to let him accompany her on this trip, he couldn’t help the rush of satisfaction that thrummed through him. Sealing the deal with another kiss had left him certain she wanted him along, too.
But at the car rental counter waiting for their vehicle, she voiced her concerns about how her in-laws were going to take his presence. Then the attendant had presented their paperwork, and they hadn’t had time to finish the discussion.
She had most likely spent the ride to her mother-in-law’s trying to come up with a plan.
Their midafternoon arrival spared them from heavy traffic. “What happened to that Phoenix rush hour I’ve heard people complain about?”
“We didn’t miss it by much,” she said. “Turn at that next corner, after the big saguaro.”
“Bi-i-ig cactus,” Trey yelled.
Mitch grinned, and Andi smiled.
He coasted along a wide curved drive and stopped the rental in front of a three-story stucco building the size of a small castle.
A concrete walkway led to a towering, metal-girded double door sporting Christmas wreaths larger than the tires on his truck. The door could easily have been plucked from an abandoned castle on the moors. A moat and drawbridge wouldn’t have looked out of place, either.
No doubt about it, Andi’s husband’s family had some bucks.
He released Trey from his car seat, then went to the trunk to collect the bag Andi had said held the kids’ overnight clothes.
By the time she had taken the baby into her arms and joined him near the trunk of the car, she was more than ready to talk.
“How are we going to explain my bringing you along with me?” She had kept her voice low for the kids’ sake, he was sure.
“You having second thoughts?” he asked. Better to find out now, to regroup if necessary.
Her steady gaze gave him the answer before she replied. “No, I’m not.”
“Good. No worries, then,” he said in the calm, measured tone that often came in handy on the job. Andi had called her mother-in-law from the airport and asked to bring a guest. “I’m an old friend of your family’s from Cowboy Creek who’s at loose ends for the evening. And who, regretting that he’s missed too many of his own family parties, jumped on the chance to help celebrate Jed’s great-grandson’s birthday.” He smiled. “Nobody will blink an eye at that, since every word is true.”
To his surprise, it was, right down to the added cover he’d tossed in about his family, something he’d have to think about another time.
The only thing he hadn’t mentioned was his plans for after the party.
She seemed satisfied with his answer, judging by her small smile.
Over at the castle, the huge front door opened without so much as an ominous creak. A woman stood on the doorstep. Slim, late sixties, with silver-shot dark hair and a gleaming smile, she held her arms wide for the little boy who barreled toward her.
“Nana! Nana!”
At the sound of her son’s voice, Andi turned and waved, then looked back at him. “All right.” She hiked the diaper bag up on her shoulder. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
For a long moment he froze, hearing the echo of his partner’s voice.
He hoped like hell this undercover op would end on a better note than his previous one had.
* * *
ANDI SIPPED HER after-dinner cocktail and tried to fight off feelings of both desire and despair.
At that overly dramatic thought, she almost choked on her drink. But melodrama or not, she was struggling with heightened emotions.
Surreptitiously, she glanced over the rim of her cocktail glass at Mitch, who sat at his ease on one of Ginnie’s many pale leather couches. He caught her glance—he never did miss much—and smiled at her.
Her heart gave an extra throb, reacting like that of a love-struck teenager. That was just her problem. Exactly her predicament. She and Mitch couldn’t have a future together, but her yearning to relive the past—to finish what they’d started as teenagers—was overwhelming. Wasn’t that one of the reasons she had agreed to let him come along on this trip?
“Trey seems happy with his gifts,” Ginnie said.
Across the room, Grant’s family had gathered as Trey and some of Grant’s nieces and nephews played with her son’s new toys.
Andi smiled at her mother-in-law. Despite the risk to her flowing cocktail dress, Ginnie
held Missy in her lap, helping her guide a half-gummed teething biscuit to her mouth.
“Oh, he’s thrilled,” Andi assured her. “You know I’ll need to take most of the toys with us tomorrow. He won’t want to be parted from them.”
Ginnie had always been a loving mother and grandmother as well as a gracious hostess. She had been both that morning when Andi had made the last-minute call just before they left for the airport. First, Ginnie had asked eagerly about Trey and Missy. Then as Mitch had so calmly reminded her outside the house, Ginnie had readily agreed to include Andi’s family friend on her party guest list.
She winced thinking about the other call she had made. Or rather, the text message she had sent to her best friend. She had told Cara only that she had had a change in plans—nothing to worry about—and would be in touch within the week.
“It’s so nice you were able to join us this evening,” Ginnie said to Mitch.
“I’m very glad you were willing to have me,” he replied.
Who wouldn’t want to have Mitch Weston? She certainly did.
Andi stared down at her glass. She ought to be ashamed of herself for a thought like that. Considering she sat here in her mother-in-law’s house celebrating her son’s birthday, she ought to be thinking instead of Grant. But she wasn’t ashamed. She had put her life with Grant where it should be, in a special, treasured place never to be forgotten but one she would never be able to visit again.
If only she could get her in-laws to do the same.
She was happy to see the family again and had enjoyed dinner and birthday cake and Trey’s excitement at his celebration, but she wished it were time for her to go.
Or did she?
She glanced at Mitch again.
In an upstairs bedroom, he had changed into dress clothes, a long-sleeved shirt with cuffs fastened with unadorned silver links and slacks as dark as his polished belt and shoes. Nothing flashy about him, nothing ostentatious. Nothing to show he was pretending to be someone he wasn’t.
Well...someone he was, but tailored to match his role, one he carried off as if he’d been born to it. He had fit in with the Price family as well as he’d always fit with her own.
For all she knew, like Grant, Mitch spent a good part of his time doing undercover work, getting plenty of practice in taking on different roles for his job.
For all she knew, which was so little.
“Andi told me about the accident,” he was saying. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
She gripped her glass. He had to mean Grant. How had he managed to steer the conversation in that direction? And what had she missed?
“Thank you,” Ginnie said quietly. “There’s not a day that goes by that we don’t think of him. I love seeing Trey here again. He reminds me so much of Grant at that age.” She brushed her chin against Missy’s curls.
Andi’s eyes blurred.
Mitch nodded. “As I said, I don’t get back to Cowboy Creek as often as I like, but I know her granddad is having the time of his life with the kids around.”
Andi blinked and took a breath. Where was he headed now? Was she wrong to feel suspicious? “We’ll be back here in Arizona again soon.”
He laughed, but looked at Ginnie. “And I know Jed won’t be happy to learn that. You know,” he went on, “they’re doing some reconstruction at the hotel and opening up the banquet hall again.”
She wasn’t wrong at all. He was fishing for details, trying to learn things he hadn’t heard from her. Trying to get information from Ginnie by giving her information.
“I hear Andi’s got a job there waiting,” he said, “any time she wants to take it.”
She started, almost spilling her drink. “I’ve told Grandpa thanks but no thanks,” she informed him. “I’ve got a job in Scottsdale.” She turned to her mother-in-law. “Ginnie, I think we’ll say goodbye. I know you want to spend time with the kids before they go to bed. Should I clean my daughter up and get her into some fresh pajamas?”
“No, you shall not.” Laughing, Ginnie hugged Missy. “I refuse to miss any part of being a nana, including changing messy babies.”
Andi’s heart sank. She had tried to be strong for the kids and for Ginnie’s benefit, too. She didn’t deliberately keep them apart—or she hadn’t until she’d made the decision to go to Cowboy Creek. But grabbing overtime every chance she could meant her free time was limited. Ginnie knew that, yet her mother-in-law often gently hinted she didn’t see enough of the kids.
She set her glass on the cocktail table and reached for her purse.
Maybe she was reading too much into too little with Ginnie tonight.
Maybe she was wrong to wonder if Mitch had played a role with her, too, making it so easy for her to agree to this time alone. Most of all, maybe she was wrong to believe he’d given his word that they would talk only as a way of getting information she had been so reluctant to share.
* * *
BY THE TIME they left Andi’s mother-in-law’s house, it was full dark. It was also a typical December night in Arizona, dry and clear and a few shades warmer than at home in Cowboy Creek.
Mitch left the windows open as he drove through the neighborhood of widely spaced homes fully decked out for the holidays. Eventually their travels took them toward the outskirts of Scottsdale.
Neither of them had spoken much since they’d left the house. The silence felt companionable to him, but they had come here for a number of reasons, most of all, to talk. To give him the chance to help her.
“Want to go for a nightcap before we find our room?” he asked.
“Yes. There’s a restaurant and bar not far from the hotel.” As she had on their way to Ginnie’s, she gave him concise directions.
“Trey did have a ball tonight, didn’t he?” he asked.
“Yes. Ginnie spoils him, and so does the rest of the family.”
“Looks like nobody’s hurting for it.”
“What does that mean?”
He looked at her in the flickering light from oncoming headlamps. “It means it looks like they can afford to buy your kid a toy or two.”
“Oh. Yes, they can.”
Silence again. By the time they’d gotten to the restaurant she’d mentioned, he’d had enough of the quiet. He parked the rental at the far end of the lot, just outside a pool of light from the streetlamp. When he turned off the ignition, she reached for her door handle.
He placed a hand on her arm. Her skin cooled his palm. “Was it cold for you with the windows down?”
“A little. But it felt good.”
He slid his hand down to her wrist, trying to warm her. “You feel good.”
“Mitch.”
She shifted as if planning to back off. He slid his fingers down to twine with hers, loosely, letting her know she could pull away any time she wanted to. Looked as though she didn’t want to, as her hand stayed in his. He swallowed a sigh of relief. “What is it? Having those second thoughts now? Is that what’s got you uncomfortable?”
“No, that’s not it. Not all of it.” She stared through the windshield at the restaurant, a square, squat, fake-adobe building not unlike the Cantina. After a minute, she turned to him. Her eyes glinted in the dark. “Why were you talking to Ginnie about Grant?”
He shrugged. “Paying my respects to a woman who lost her son.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah. Why should there be any other reason?”
“I don’t know. Why did you bring up the Hitching Post and all that about my having a job there?”
“Because you do.” He rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. “You know Jed would keep you on the ranch in a heartbeat if he could.”
“You shouldn’t have said anything to Ginnie. You don’t know anything about my relationship with her.”
“Because you won’t say anything to me about it. But you can now.” He turned in his seat, being careful of his knee near the steering column, and reached across with his free hand to tuck a strand of her hair b
ehind her ear. “That’s what we came here for, isn’t it? To talk.”
“In a parking lot?”
The astonishment in her voice made him laugh. “Yeah, you’re right. We came here to talk—and for more than that, and we both know it. But not in a parking lot. Now we’re here, though, no sense missing out on an experience we’ve never had together.”
He let his fingers slide down another strand of her hair, let his knuckles brush the front of her sky blue shirt. The deep breath making that shirt rise and fall, the touch of her breast against his hand—both sent a hair-trigger response through him. His fingers tightened reflexively around hers. He had no idea what drove her, but she gripped his hand in return.
Swallowing a groan, he leaned down to plant his mouth on hers. She tasted good. Very good. But after traveling all this way, waiting all this time, wanting her from the minute he’d seen her standing in the barn doorway years ago, he refused to settle for a taste. He slid forward just as she inched toward him, enough to bring them together. Not full frontal contact, but satisfying enough to pull a few more triggers.
Damn, if he didn’t have the raging hormones of a teenager right now. He’d summon the matching stamina, too, because he planned on making this a long night.
Chapter Eleven
Andi slid onto her side of the restaurant booth and put her bag on the seat beside her.
“All fixed up?” Mitch said teasingly. “Let me see.”
She laughed as she swatted his hand away from her face. “I’m fine. But my lips may never go back to normal size.”
“You should thank me, then. You won’t need any of those injections women get to plump theirs up.”
“Are you saying I needed them before—”
“Before we nearly got arrested for indecent exposure?”
“Mitch!” They sat in a corner booth of the restaurant, Mitch with his back to the wall. She glanced at the table closest to them and beyond that at the row of stools at the bar. No one seemed to be listening, but she leaned forward, anyway, to set the record straight.
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