theimpression Mike Frome had been waiting for you a lot longer than that already.â
Justine shrugged, but she dimpled coyly and planted a pleased kiss on the poodleâs head. The tiny, tense dog shivered with excitement. âOh, Mikeâs a fool,â Justine said. âBut I canât stop him, can I? I guess thereâs no law against wishful thinking.â
Reed gave the poodleâs head a friendly fluff and turned to Faith. âReady?â
She nodded. âSure.â
âHey, boss,â Justine called as they went through the clinic door. âOne thing. If I put Fifi to bed, that means Iâm working, right? It means Iâm still on the clock.â
Reed smiled pleasantly over his shoulder. âI guess thereâs no law against wishful thinking.â
The October moon was full and yellow, a circle so perfect it looked as if it had been hole-punched out of a black construction paper sky. A light breeze carried the sweet hint of someoneâs wood fire and sent little curved birch leaves skittering ahead of them on the path.
The temperature was dropping quickly, and Faith realized the night was already colder than when sheâd first walked out to the clinic. She should have brought her coat. She wondered how Reed managed to look so comfortable in only his jeans and soft plaid flannel shirt.
They covered the few yards to the house quicklyâit wasnât long enough to do more than make a coupleof comments on the beautiful moon, and then they were there.
As they climbed the steps to the back porch, she looked at him, unsure how to broach the subject. Maybe she should just let well enough alone. He didnât seem uncomfortableâand he certainly didnât seem flirtatious, as if he believed the kiss had been the beginning of anything. Probably he felt the same way she didâthat the kiss had been surprisingly nice, but completely inappropriate.
She put her hand on the doorknob, but at the same moment Reed put his hand on the chain of the porch swing.
âWant to sit out here for a minute?â His eyes gleamed in the cold moonlight. âWe really should talk.â
She hesitated. The night was so full of subtle sensualityârestless little leaf whispers, haunting calls from throaty owls, the cold kisses of a blind night wind, goose bumps rising and falling on your skin.
On a night like this, it was more intimate to be out here, in the open, than to be inside by the fire. And considering the fact that avoiding real intimacy was what she had wanted to discussâ¦
He touched her shoulder. âSit,â he said. âItâs comfortable, and itâs private. We can be sure no one will hear us.â
âAll right.â
She arranged herself on the large wooden swing, which, though it had no cushions or pillows, reallywas astonishingly comfortable. When he joined her, she was relieved to see that it was big enough to let them both sit without actually touching.
âSo.â He set the swing into a small, rocking rhythm that he controlled easily with the heel of his foot. âI know this is a little awkward. Considering itâs my fault, maybe I should go first.â
She looked over at him. His dark, wavy hair was rimmed in silver. Moonlight sculpted his rugged face with dramatic angles and shadows.
âYour fault?â
He nodded. âAbsolutely. I stepped over the line in the kitchen earlier. I owe you an apology, and I want you to know that it wonât ever happen again. Frankly, I canât imagine what made me act like such a fool.â
He chuckled suddenly. âWait, that didnât come out right, did it? I know perfectly well why I kissed you, of course. What I donât know is why I ignored the obvious fact that I had no right to do it.â
âItâs not a matter of âright,ââ she said, braiding her fingers in her lap. âItâs just⦠Itâs Spencer. Heâs been through
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