to Sadler’s, color chips in hand. Once inside the eclectic store, she arranged for the paint to be mixed and delivered to LeRoy’s. Maybe she’d eat at Sally’s Place as long as she was here. Tomorrow would be soon enough to tackle the kitchen.
Besides, once she got back to Dottie’s, she had homework to do. It was way past time to get back to her search for her long-lost relative. No doubt Ron would turn up something, but in the meantime, she intended to do some cyberspace snooping of her own.
And while she was at Sally’s, she could ask around a bit. She’d tried with LeRoy, but he’d been a dead end. It was like walking a tightrope. If she was too subtle, she couldn’t unearth anything. Too specific, and she’d have the paparazzi swarming the town.
They were almost an inevitability at some point. But not yet.
She swung through Sally’s door. Who knew? She might get lucky.
* * *
Two hours later, Annelise stood in the center of her living room, a huge grin on her face. Dottie, bless her heart, had been true to her word. When Annelise arrived with the furniture truck, her apartment had been emptied of all the old pieces. Curtis, Dottie’s neighbor, had stored everything in the shed.
Now, the new-to-her pieces were scattered around the rooms, bringing some much needed color and pizzazz to the space. Her mother would have a fit that she’d bought secondhand furniture, but, really, when you thought about it, what were antiques except really, really old used furniture?
She’d chosen Tiffany-blue for her walls and wanted to start painting in the worst way, but her body simply refused. She’d used muscles today she hadn’t known existed.
Instead, dressed in a pair of soft, white cotton shorts and a pale yellow ribbed tank top, she grabbed a cold soda from the fridge, popped the top, and plopped down on her new sofa with one of Dottie’s cookies and her laptop. She’d opened the windows when she came home, and a breeze wafted in, fluttering the white gauze drapes she’d found at Sadler’s. LeRoy’d hung them for her before he and the boys left. The scent of roses drifted up from Dottie’s garden.
And all was well with the world.
Well, almost. She hadn’t turned up any clues about her aunt, but she would.
She deleted four unread e-mails from Doug and lost herself in her research.
A knock sounded at the door.
Startled, she jerked upright, nearly spilling the last of her drink. It was dark. Who in the world would be visiting this late? Had she locked up when the guys left?
Setting the can on the kitchen counter, pulse racing, she moved to the door and flicked on the porch light.
Cash.
Her heart started its own Texas two-step.
She threw open the door. “Is everything okay?”
“Yep.” His gaze traveled over her. “It is now.”
“Did your parents have a good flight?”
He nodded. “They did.”
She grinned. “Would you like to come in?”
“I would.” He stepped inside, then hesitated. “Something I’ve got to get out of the way first, though. And I want it perfectly clear that neither of us is on the clock, right?”
“Right.”
“Good.” He thumbed back his cowboy hat. Then his arms snaked around her, drawing her close. Very slowly, green eyes intent, he lowered his head, sniffed her neck, and sent a shiver to her core.
“Nice,” he murmured.
Her hands fisted in his shirt.
His lips met hers for the briefest of moments, lightly, softly. He started to pull away, stopped, slanted his lips across hers again. This time the kiss was that of a starving man, demanding, taking, his tongue tasting hers, dancing with it. Hot and wet.
She trembled. She wanted more. Oh, so much more.
When he lifted his head this time, she ran her tongue over her swollen lips, stared into his desire-darkened eyes, and realized he looked as shaken as she felt.
As he released her, she reached out to steady herself. “Whew.”
“I’ll second that.” Cash’s voice was husky. “I had to
Besides, once she got back to Dottie’s, she had homework to do. It was way past time to get back to her search for her long-lost relative. No doubt Ron would turn up something, but in the meantime, she intended to do some cyberspace snooping of her own.
And while she was at Sally’s, she could ask around a bit. She’d tried with LeRoy, but he’d been a dead end. It was like walking a tightrope. If she was too subtle, she couldn’t unearth anything. Too specific, and she’d have the paparazzi swarming the town.
They were almost an inevitability at some point. But not yet.
She swung through Sally’s door. Who knew? She might get lucky.
* * *
Two hours later, Annelise stood in the center of her living room, a huge grin on her face. Dottie, bless her heart, had been true to her word. When Annelise arrived with the furniture truck, her apartment had been emptied of all the old pieces. Curtis, Dottie’s neighbor, had stored everything in the shed.
Now, the new-to-her pieces were scattered around the rooms, bringing some much needed color and pizzazz to the space. Her mother would have a fit that she’d bought secondhand furniture, but, really, when you thought about it, what were antiques except really, really old used furniture?
She’d chosen Tiffany-blue for her walls and wanted to start painting in the worst way, but her body simply refused. She’d used muscles today she hadn’t known existed.
Instead, dressed in a pair of soft, white cotton shorts and a pale yellow ribbed tank top, she grabbed a cold soda from the fridge, popped the top, and plopped down on her new sofa with one of Dottie’s cookies and her laptop. She’d opened the windows when she came home, and a breeze wafted in, fluttering the white gauze drapes she’d found at Sadler’s. LeRoy’d hung them for her before he and the boys left. The scent of roses drifted up from Dottie’s garden.
And all was well with the world.
Well, almost. She hadn’t turned up any clues about her aunt, but she would.
She deleted four unread e-mails from Doug and lost herself in her research.
A knock sounded at the door.
Startled, she jerked upright, nearly spilling the last of her drink. It was dark. Who in the world would be visiting this late? Had she locked up when the guys left?
Setting the can on the kitchen counter, pulse racing, she moved to the door and flicked on the porch light.
Cash.
Her heart started its own Texas two-step.
She threw open the door. “Is everything okay?”
“Yep.” His gaze traveled over her. “It is now.”
“Did your parents have a good flight?”
He nodded. “They did.”
She grinned. “Would you like to come in?”
“I would.” He stepped inside, then hesitated. “Something I’ve got to get out of the way first, though. And I want it perfectly clear that neither of us is on the clock, right?”
“Right.”
“Good.” He thumbed back his cowboy hat. Then his arms snaked around her, drawing her close. Very slowly, green eyes intent, he lowered his head, sniffed her neck, and sent a shiver to her core.
“Nice,” he murmured.
Her hands fisted in his shirt.
His lips met hers for the briefest of moments, lightly, softly. He started to pull away, stopped, slanted his lips across hers again. This time the kiss was that of a starving man, demanding, taking, his tongue tasting hers, dancing with it. Hot and wet.
She trembled. She wanted more. Oh, so much more.
When he lifted his head this time, she ran her tongue over her swollen lips, stared into his desire-darkened eyes, and realized he looked as shaken as she felt.
As he released her, she reached out to steady herself. “Whew.”
“I’ll second that.” Cash’s voice was husky. “I had to
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