eat."
The suggestion shook Laurel out of her reverie. They had arrived on the outskirts of town. He had parked the truck, and Michael had spoken to her from where he stood at the open driver's side door. Sliding under the steering wheel, she stepped out and took his proffered hand.
"That's the old B&O Railroad Station. That buiIding's over one hundred years old."
Her gaze, following the directing nod of his head, swept over the archaic brick structure.
She liked the warm, almost possessive way he propelled her across the street, with one strong hand planted firmly on the small of her back. As they stepped up onto the sidewalk, she was poignantly aware of the chill where his touch had been when his hand dropped to his side.
Listening to the deep timbre of Michael's voice pointing out one sight, then another, she strolled beside him down the main thoroughfare of the small town. She was startled when his grip locked around her elbow, twirling her around to face him.
"Step over here," he whispered, pulling her with him.
He moved to the window of a small boutique, his eyes roving the silver jewelry displayed there. "Give me a second to think."
"What's the matter? And why are we whispering?" She searched his frowning profile, then she lifted her head to glance around them.
But he caught her chin, guiding her attention back to him. His warm fingers traveled up her cheek, then under her hair to caress her neck. His expression softened as his dark eyes looked into hers. Bending down, he kissed her jaw tenderly, then he leaned into her and pushed his nose into her hair to inhale deeply.
Laurel felt her knees turn to rubber. Lifting one hand to his shoulder, she held on for dear life.
"Michael?" His name left her throat in a faint breathy whisper. His light kiss on her earlobe almost made her sigh.
"We're being watched," he explained. "Eric's across the street."
Laurel's eyes snapped open. Michael was putting on a show for Ginny's friend Eric. Of course, he was. Why else would he kiss her and touch her so intimately? Wow, he was good at this play acting thing. Ignoring the burning disappointment that filled her, she realized she was going to have to stay on her toes. Getting caught up in the moment was utterly foolish, she realized, locking her knees to stop their quaking.
What was wrong with her? If someone were witnessing her reaction to him, she might be accused of being in love with the man or something.
In love ? That was ridiculous! She barely knew him.
When Michael straightened, they both swiveled their gazes across the street to see Eric watching them. The gangly teen lifted his hand in greeting and Michael did the same. Laurel stood there unable to move, needing the time to collect her wits.
"Do you think he'll see Ginny today?" Michael asked.
Laurel could only nod.
"But do you think he'll tell her what he saw?"
Again she nodded.
"That's great!" His mouth split into a wide smile and he clapped Laurel on the back. "Let's go have breakfast. I've worked up a hefty appetite."
He didn't notice Laurel's clenched jaw or her tight fists as she walked beside him.
When the waitress brought plates of fluffy scrambled eggs, bacon and steaming biscuits, Laurel's stomach growled. She and Michael had been discussing their friendly conspiracy.
After the way she'd felt when Michael had told her why he was kissing her, she thought she'd never be able to eat. But his affable banter on the way to the family diner where they now sat helped her nerves to calm and her tensed muscles to relax. She was relieved that he hadn't seemed to notice her profound reaction to his faked attentions.
His easy, jovial behavior after their little 'love scene' cemented a reminder in her brain that she wouldn't soon forget: Michael's conduct in front of the boutique had been one friend helping another, nothing more. And it was clear to her now just how important his friendship was to her. Too important to jeopardize by some silly adolescent
The suggestion shook Laurel out of her reverie. They had arrived on the outskirts of town. He had parked the truck, and Michael had spoken to her from where he stood at the open driver's side door. Sliding under the steering wheel, she stepped out and took his proffered hand.
"That's the old B&O Railroad Station. That buiIding's over one hundred years old."
Her gaze, following the directing nod of his head, swept over the archaic brick structure.
She liked the warm, almost possessive way he propelled her across the street, with one strong hand planted firmly on the small of her back. As they stepped up onto the sidewalk, she was poignantly aware of the chill where his touch had been when his hand dropped to his side.
Listening to the deep timbre of Michael's voice pointing out one sight, then another, she strolled beside him down the main thoroughfare of the small town. She was startled when his grip locked around her elbow, twirling her around to face him.
"Step over here," he whispered, pulling her with him.
He moved to the window of a small boutique, his eyes roving the silver jewelry displayed there. "Give me a second to think."
"What's the matter? And why are we whispering?" She searched his frowning profile, then she lifted her head to glance around them.
But he caught her chin, guiding her attention back to him. His warm fingers traveled up her cheek, then under her hair to caress her neck. His expression softened as his dark eyes looked into hers. Bending down, he kissed her jaw tenderly, then he leaned into her and pushed his nose into her hair to inhale deeply.
Laurel felt her knees turn to rubber. Lifting one hand to his shoulder, she held on for dear life.
"Michael?" His name left her throat in a faint breathy whisper. His light kiss on her earlobe almost made her sigh.
"We're being watched," he explained. "Eric's across the street."
Laurel's eyes snapped open. Michael was putting on a show for Ginny's friend Eric. Of course, he was. Why else would he kiss her and touch her so intimately? Wow, he was good at this play acting thing. Ignoring the burning disappointment that filled her, she realized she was going to have to stay on her toes. Getting caught up in the moment was utterly foolish, she realized, locking her knees to stop their quaking.
What was wrong with her? If someone were witnessing her reaction to him, she might be accused of being in love with the man or something.
In love ? That was ridiculous! She barely knew him.
When Michael straightened, they both swiveled their gazes across the street to see Eric watching them. The gangly teen lifted his hand in greeting and Michael did the same. Laurel stood there unable to move, needing the time to collect her wits.
"Do you think he'll see Ginny today?" Michael asked.
Laurel could only nod.
"But do you think he'll tell her what he saw?"
Again she nodded.
"That's great!" His mouth split into a wide smile and he clapped Laurel on the back. "Let's go have breakfast. I've worked up a hefty appetite."
He didn't notice Laurel's clenched jaw or her tight fists as she walked beside him.
When the waitress brought plates of fluffy scrambled eggs, bacon and steaming biscuits, Laurel's stomach growled. She and Michael had been discussing their friendly conspiracy.
After the way she'd felt when Michael had told her why he was kissing her, she thought she'd never be able to eat. But his affable banter on the way to the family diner where they now sat helped her nerves to calm and her tensed muscles to relax. She was relieved that he hadn't seemed to notice her profound reaction to his faked attentions.
His easy, jovial behavior after their little 'love scene' cemented a reminder in her brain that she wouldn't soon forget: Michael's conduct in front of the boutique had been one friend helping another, nothing more. And it was clear to her now just how important his friendship was to her. Too important to jeopardize by some silly adolescent
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