That Runaway Summer by Darlene Gardner

to sleep. It was past eleven o’clock and the vet’s office opened by nine. If she rang his doorbell now, he’d think she was there for more than a thank-you.
    She was under a streetlight, the worst place if Dan should happen to look out the window. She was about to cross to the opposite side of the street when she heard a motorized sound. Dan’s garage door opened slowly, revealing feet in slides, hair-sprinkled legs left bare beneath a pair of gym shorts, a lean torso covered by a T-shirt, then Dan’s handsome face.
    The shorts and T-shirt instantly became tied with nothing at all in her speculation over what he wore to bed.
    He started dragging a rubber trash can on wheels to the curb. Her feet felt as though they were stuck in wet cement. She got them loose and tried to jump back into the shadows.
    “Jill?” he called. “Is that you?”
    She grimaced. Her only choice was to step forward into the full glow of a streetlight. She affected a casual pose and a smile, as though she’d run into him in the full light of day. “Hey, Dan.”
    “Hi, Jill.” He finished hauling the can to the curb, then walked toward her. Although Dan looked great in his work clothes, she preferred him this way. The man really did have a set of gorgeous legs. “What are you doing out here?”
    That was easy enough to answer. “Walking home from the Blue Haven. I got off early tonight.”
    “Isn’t this a few blocks out of your way?”
    No use denying what anyone with a sense of direction could figure out. “Yes. Yes, it is.”
    She shifted from foot to foot, listening to the cries of the cicadas reach a slow crescendo. He said nothing, waiting.
    “Okay. You caught me,” she said. “I’m here because of you.”
    The darkness enveloping them lent the situation an air of intimacy and her comments the heavy hint of suggestion. She chewed on her bottom lip. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
    “How do you think it sounded?” His gaze didn’t leave her face.
    “Like I saw that light in your bedroom window and got ideas,” she said.
    “Did you get ideas?”
    Before Jill had plotted to go into hiding with Chris, she’d made it a point to tell the truth. She hated that circumstances had forced her to become a decent liar. Occasionally, however, the skill came in handy.
    “I got the idea it was too late to bother you.” There. Technically that wasn’t even a lie. She’d simply neglected to tell him the entire truth.
    “Bother me?” Was it her imagination or did his question have sexual undertones? “About what?”
    Jill almost groaned. What was the matter with her that she read innuendo into the simplest of questions? She wanted to cry with the cicadas.
    “About the goats,” she said. “I didn’t get a chance last night to properly thank you for the wonderful thing you did for Chris. I nearly called you a dozen times today, but this seemed like something I should say in person.”
    He shrugged. “I didn’t do much.”
    “You must be kidding me.” She took a step closer to him, remembering how he’d come to the rescue. “You’ve got two pygmy goats in your backyard.”
    “I’m a vet,” he said. “I’m used to having animals around.”
    “Maybe so. But if it weren’t for Chris, you wouldn’t have any goats.” She had to tilt her head to gaze up at him. “Let me reimburse you for what Bluebell cost. I can also chip in for their upkeep.”
    “Thanks, but no thanks,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument.
    “I promise you I won’t forgot this,” Jill said. “If you ever need a favor, all you have to do is let me know.”
    “You don’t owe me anything. I like Chris.” He reached out and captured her hand. Warmth instantly spread through her. “I like his sister, too.”
    Her throat suddenly felt parched. She swallowed, wondering why she was leaving her hand where it was.
    “Tell you what, if you’re set on paying me back, come inside,” he invited. “I’ll open a bottle of wine