“No, I’m asking you so I won’t have to break in a new dance partner. If I remember correctly, we always managed to get that right.”
She remembered how they’d danced, too. Pressed so closely together, they could’ve shared the same skin.
“But, if you won’t go, I’ll have to ask someone else.”
That startled her. “Who?”
Zach frowned thoughtfully, then said, “Maybelle Parker. She was the auctioneer, so she probably didn’t bid on anyone.”
To her surprise, Kristin found herself laughing, and after the night she’d had, it felt good. “You’re joking. Maybelle Parker will eat you alive.”
“Ah, an even better reason to call her.” He got up from the table and looked around. “Phone book?”
He wouldn’t do it. Maybelle was ten years older and ten pounds heavier than he was, most of that chest. “Top drawer to the right of the sink. And you’re not really going to call her.”
Zach opened the drawer, consulted the book, then put it back.
Kristin started to believe. “All right, I’ll think about it,” she said, annoyed with herself for caving in to him.
“Think fast. I’m on my way to the phone.”
“It’s after eleven o’clock,” she said in exasperation. “You’re not calling anyone at this hour.”
He tapped in a number, then held the receiver out so she could hear that it was ringing.
“Maybelle?” he said after a moment. “It’s Zach Davis. Fine, thanks, you? Good. No, I’m back again. Yes, it is. I was just about to get to that. I was wondering if you’d—”
Kristin leapt off her chair and fought him for the receiver, but he kept it away from her. He covered the mouthpiece. “Are you going?”
“Yes!” she rasped. “Now hang up!”
Instead he placed the receiver in her hand and said with a grin, “See you Saturday night. Wear something sexy.”
Kristin glared at him, then closing her eyes, took a deep breath and brought the phone to her ear. She’d make up something. She’d say Zach was calling to ask where and what time they were supposed to meet for the cruise.
She didn’t have to say anything because Maybelle Parker wasn’t on the line. The number he’d dialed was the time and temperature.
Kristin slammed the receiver back on the hook and strode into the living room, then the foyer, searching for him. She yanked open her front door. He was just making the turn out of her driveway, his taillights red in the foggy darkness.
She watched until the fog swallowed him up, then slowly, closed and bolted the door. She sank back against it. What was she getting herself into? And why couldn’t she make a decision where he was concerned and stick to it?
A tiny voice in her mind answered, Because he was worried about you driving in the fog. Because he was so furious with Chad. And because he went to such lengths to convince you to go on the cruise.
Kristin hugged herself, hating the hope that insisted upon creeping in. He’d made her laugh, and he’d made her warm when a thick pile robe hadn’t been able to chase her chills away. He’d even poured her tea.
Straightening, she strolled wearily back to the kitchen to dump out the two cups neither of them had really wanted, then turned off the light. Whether he’d asked out of pity or some sense of chivalry, she would go with him, and she would dance with him the way they once had.
Because he’d be gone soon enough…then all she’d have left were memories.
Chapter 13
E dgy and conflicted, Zach sat in his idling truck, every muscle in his body coiled as he stared up through the fog at Hollister’s lavish brick home. He wanted to rearrange Chad’s face in the worst way, yet here he sat. Because he’d told Kristin he wouldn’t touch the jerk.
You promised, she’d said. Can I trust you to keep your word or not?
He sighed impatiently. He’d known what she was thinking. She might have said that the past was behind them now, but she hadn’t meant it. He would pay forever for his mistake, yet she’d forgiven a raving ego-maniac like Chad. No justice there.
Muffled voices carried on the night air, alerting Zach that Hollister had company. He rolled down his window a little more. Somewhere beyond the thick stand of pines, an engine sprang to life.
The way he saw it, he had two choices. He could hang back until the visitor left and read Hollister the riot act…or he could drive away and forget the whole thing.
Headlights poked through the fog and trees, and a vehicle came down the long, paved driveway.
Frowning, Zach drove on. Leaving without pounding Chad into the pavement grated on his nerves, but it was time he proved to Kris that his word meant something.
The chief’s midnight visitor was still behind Zach when he turned onto Wisdom’s main street. When he passed Eli’s bookstore and Kristin’s burned-out shop and saw the yellow caution tape still surrounding what was left of it, he felt a hollow spot open in his heart. Again, he thought that she didn’t deserve that.
The car behind him picked up speed, probably because visibility was better in town than it had been on the outskirts. The sedan swung left on an intersecting lane—Grace Street. Curious, Zach turned left onto the street that ran parallel to Grace. He sped to the end of the block. He was in a residential area now, and he braked at the stop sign when he saw that the dark sedan had made a right turn and was coming toward him.
The car passed under the streetlight. Zach stared in surprise at the bitter face of the gray-haired, spectacled man behind the wheel. Then the car whizzed past, and if he’d been unsure of the driver’s identity before, looking at the vanity license plate erased all doubt: TAX-MAN.
Tax man? What had Harlan Greene been doing at Hollister’s house this late at night? Zach would’ve expected the old codger to be counting sheep at this hour.
Frowning, he headed back to the farmhouse. He considered Harlan’s midnight ride for a while, but in the way that one thought sparks another, he ended up recalling the old man buying cinnamon rolls at Kristin’s shop. Then his mind was filled only with her and the upcoming cruise. An eagerness he knew he shouldn’t be feeling zipped along his nerve endings.
For a man who hadn’t been excited about a woman in a long time, that little zip felt damn good.
The dining room of the River Rose was noisy and filled to capacity with bachelors and bachelorettes in formal eveningwear. Laughing and talking, they filed out onto the dance floor as the music started.
Kristin’s pulse quickened as Zach pushed away from the candlelit table. The black tuxedo he wore tonight contrasted sharply with the crisp white linens on the tables. It couldn’t hide his blatant masculinity. Not with his thick hair shagging over his collar, and steel-gray eyes calling up visions only whispered about in polite society. He was so tall, so broad through the shoulders, so uncompromisingly male. Zach extended his hand, and Kristin gave him hers.
This was the moment she’d looked forward to all evening. Dinner was over, waiters in white tuxes were clearing away their dessert plates and coffee cups, and the music was low and dreamy, a perfect complement to the dimmed crystal chandeliers and tiny twinkle lights glimmering from posts and greenery.
Hand in hand, they moved to a quiet corner of the dance floor, and his appreciative gaze took her in. Her long white spaghetti-strap dress left her shoulders bare and skimmed her body, and tiny white sequins glittered from her bodice to her hem. When his attention moved to the side slit that ran from her left knee to the floor, he smiled. He even seemed to like the crisscrossed straps on her open-toed white heels.
“I know I told you to wear something sexy,” he said, taking her in his arms. “But this…this is above and beyond anything I’d hoped for. Every man in this room wants to be me.”
Laughing and demurring, Kristin slipped her arms around his neck and he brought their bodies close. It felt wonderful.
“First time you’ve worn this?” he asked.
“Why?”
“Because I don�
��t want you to have worn it for anyone else.”
Kristin smiled. Everything about this fantasy night pleased and delighted her, made her feel special. “It’s new.”
“New for me?” he asked smugly.
Refusing to add to his ego, she answered, “No, new for me.”
Laughter rustled in his throat as he spun her even farther away from the crowd, the molding of their bodies awakening every primitive urge Kristin remembered. She was aware of everything about him. The strength in his hands, the faint dampness at the back of his collar where her hand rested, the knee that nudged the inside of her leg and asked her to glide with him, to feel.
And she would feel. She would throw caution to the winds because this night wasn’t real. It was a fairy tale that seemed to say there would be no consequences in the morning, and they were free to go where the evening took them.
Chad and Mary Alice Hampton swung near, and Kristin had to hide her disappointment at the intrusion. His smile was warm and friendly, but that was no surprise. She and Chad had managed to get their relationship back on shaky footing the day he’d come by to discuss Anna Mae’s journals.
“Warm in here tonight,” Chad called. “Even with the air-conditioning. Good thing dinner was decent.”
Zach’s glowering expression said he had no intention of speaking, so Kristin rushed to reply over the music. “It was delicious,” she called. “Coq au vin’s one of my favorite dishes.”
“Mary Alice is one of mine,” he joked and wiggled his brows.
“Oh, please,” Mary Alice groaned. Then the slender blonde gave Chad a fun-loving shove toward the center of the crowd, and laughing, they spun away.
“You still speak to that slime?” Zach grumbled as they moved to the music again.
“He made a mistake, Zach.”
“It was a big one.”
“I know that. He knows it, too, and he’s apologized a dozen times. I won’t make him pay for it for the rest of his life.”
Zach’s gaze darkened, and she knew he was making comparisons between his mistake and Chad’s. But she’d already told him the past was the past. There was no need to bring it up again. “Thank you for staying away from him that night.”
“I promised, didn’t I?”
He’d promised to love her forever, too, and that promise hadn’t been too difficult to break.
“Actually,” he continued in the same disgruntled tone, “I did drive out there after you told me what he’d done. But I didn’t storm the house. He had company.”
“And if Chad had been alone?” she asked, feeling a new jab of betrayal.
“I still would’ve driven away. I didn’t back off because he had company, I backed off because when I give my word, I keep it.”
But he’d still gone out there, hadn’t he?
The band finished the slow song to scattered applause, and they clapped along with the others. Zach met her eyes again, a curious look there. “Guess who Hollister’s company was?”
“I don’t know. Who?”
“Harlan Greene.” Zach stared at her for a few seconds, then said, “You don’t seem surprised.”
“I’m not. Chad told me he’d spoken to Harlan after he read Anna Mae’s journal entries.”
“And?”
“And after reading the journals and examining all the evidence, he doesn’t think Harlan—or anyone else—caused her death.”
“He still thinks it was an accident?”
“As he reminded me, that’s how the coroner saw it, too. He did open a new investigation based on what Anna Mae had written, though. He said she tended to be a bit dramatic, but he’d never known her to lie. If she thought this man was up to something illegal, he probably was.”
“Midnight at the home of the chief of police is still a strange time and place to conduct an interview. Does everyone in this town jump when the chief speaks?”
The music began again, and Kristin pressed a fingertip to his lips to stop his grumbling. Her stomach flopped over when he touched his tongue to it.
With a wary look at him, she continued. “Maybe Chad questioned him at home to save Harlan’s reputation. A few days ago, Bertie Patterson—one of Anna Mae’s neighbors—saw someone go inside the house. Chad found Harlan there, looking for a keepsake. Questioning him at the office a second time might’ve started people talking again.”
Kristin softened her voice, still feeling a tingle at the tip of her index finger. “Zach, let’s not talk about Anna Mae and Harlan anymore. Let’s just enjoy the night.”
“Good idea,” he said, bringing her close again. He didn’t want to talk about them either. Not when she was so soft and pliant in his arms. Not when all he could think about was how well they moved together.
They stayed like that for a long time, through several slow songs. Then as they were leaving the dance floor, two merchants he’d met earlier called to Kristin and she excused herself to talk with them.
“I won’t be long,” she said.
“Take your time,” he replied. “We have all night.”
Ambling over to their table, Zach accepted the last glass of white wine from a passing waiter, then undid the black bow tie at this throat and stuck it in his pocket. He freed the top button on his shirt. Chad was a waste, but he’d been right about one thing. It was hotter than hell in here. And every time he looked at Kristin in that shimmering dress, the temperature rose another ten degrees.
As he sipped from his glass, Zach studied her classic features, watched the way she interacted with her friends. It was the first time since the fire that he’d seen her with anyone but Chad, and it was obvious that she honestly liked people. And they liked her. There was a kindness, a grace, a genuine warmth about her.
He had friends, but he’d never had the wholehearted, giving nature that she had. He’d always been too guarded, too worried about what people were thinking. Big surprise, he thought wryly. It wasn’t as though he’d had a role model in Hap Davis. Where most people smiled and offered a handshake, Hap had spent most of his life whining and asking for a hand-out.
Kristin eased away from her friends, then walked back to him. Every tiny sequin caught the light…sparkled over her breasts and hips. Zach’s gut tightened.
She smiled as she reached him. “Remember when we were talking earlier, and Bob and Matt suggested we have another fund-raiser for the kids before Christmas?”
“Yep.” He offered her his wineglass, and she accepted.
“Thanks. They think a locally televised auction on Halloween day might be fun. The hosts would dress in costumes and hand out treats to anyone who drops by the station to make a bid.”
“Interesting,” he said, not really interested at all. He got a weak feeling in the pit of his stomach as she sipped from his glass. As if she did it all the time.
Kristin handed it back. “We think we can get enough merchants to donate prizes, here and in Lancaster.” Her dark eyes teased. “I might even ask a certain out-of-state contractor for a donation.”
Zach grinned, liking the way she looked at him. “You want a couple of two-by-fours?”
“We want whatever he’s willing to give,” she said softly.
The temperature bumped up again. Zach knew she felt it, too. “Would there be incentives for him to donate?”
“That depends,” she returned, eyes teasing. “What does he want?”
What did he want? He wanted her. He wanted more of the electric charge between them, more of the visceral pull that turned him inside out. But they were on a riverboat in the middle of Lake Edward. It would be hours before they moored and he could answer her truthfully. If then. Staring down into her eyes, he said quietly, “Right now, all he wants is to dance with you.”
Kristin took the wineglass from his hand and put it on the table, then backed slowly onto the dance floor. She smiled softly. “I think that can be arranged.”
The stars were diamond chips in the black sky, the June night warm and balmy when the River Rose dock
ed a little after midnight. Anticipation spiced the air, along with the tension that hadn’t let up since she’d drifted into his arms.
Zach tried not to hurry her as they walked in silence to the car. Then he seated Kristin and strode around to the driver’s side of his aunt’s dated, but impeccably kept white New Yorker. He and Etta had swapped vehicles earlier in the day. There was no way he would’ve asked Cinderella to ride to the ball in a contractor’s truck. Not the way she looked tonight.
Zach slid under the steering wheel, shut the door and turned the key. The Chrysler’s engine caught and he felt the car’s slight vibration beneath him.
“I don’t know how to say this, except to just say it,” he murmured. “I don’t want to take you home just yet.”
“Good,” she said. “Because I don’t want to go home just yet.”
Zach dropped the car into gear and drove.
An hour later, a fire blazed beside Etta’s pond, bright flames licking upward against a backdrop of dark trees and night sky. They lounged on his oversize sleeping bag, her bottom settled comfortably between the spread of Zach’s thighs, his shoulders braced against the wooden bench near the water.
Kristin snuggled back against him, loving the feel of his arms around her. Earlier, they’d laughed when she’d emerged from Etta’s bathroom in his navy sweat suit and white athletic socks. Now the mood was mellow as she considered the night and their part in it.
“You’re almost finished here, aren’t you?”
“Just about.” His voice was deep and low behind her. “I have four or five days of work left. I need to install a couple of porch lights and railings…do some painting. I figure whoever buys the house can take care of all the fancy stuff.”
Only four or five days? She’d known time was growing short, but— “I guess you’ll be glad to get back.”
“It’s home. And Dan’s been running the business single-handedly for too long. He has a family. He needs to spend time with them.”
But there was no joy in his words. In fact, Kristin thought she heard a trace of regret. “Can I ask you something?”
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