Wink of an Eye by Lynn Chandler Willis Page A

ass!”
    I spun around and came face-to-face with her fury.
    â€œHow dare you judge me ! Unless you made some earth-shattering discovery within the last few hours, you knew I was married when you met me here.” She leapt out of the bed, dragging the sheet with her. She wrapped it around herself then flung another pillow at me. I batted it down, which infuriated her even more. She headed toward me, trapping me in the corner. “Don’t get righteous with me, Gypsy Moran. You were pretty quick to drop your pants, too.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you tell me when I ran into you at the diner?”
    â€œWe spoke … what? Maybe five minutes?”
    â€œYou had plenty of time tonight at the restaurant to tell me.”
    Her eyes cut right through to my soul. “Would you have left?”
    Neither of us said anything for a long while. We just stood there staring at each other, hating each other more than humanly possible. Loving each other more than either of us ever imagined. No matter the years and distance, some things will never change.
    â€œI used to wish I could stop loving you,” she said in a tiny voice. “I wished every night you’d come back and love me the way I loved you. But you never came back. You never came back, Gypsy.”
    I took a step toward her. “I begged you to come with me.”
    â€œAnd I begged you to stay. ”
    I reached out, grabbed her, and pulled her to me. Her warm tears rolled down my bare chest. I lifted her chin and gently kissed away each tear, wishing to God I could stop loving her.

 
    CHAPTER 10
    It was approaching 5:00 A.M. when I pulled into Rhonda’s driveway. All I wanted to do was crawl into a decent bed and catch a couple hours’ sleep. Claire and I had made love the rest of the night, never mentioning what’s his name or how wrong it was for us to be there, or how right it was.
    I climbed out of the van and stumbled up the walk, then quietly opened the door. Or tried to. I tried it again as quietly as I could, not wanting to wake Rhonda or Gram. I finally jiggled the knob—it was locked. She had locked me out!
    I thought of going around to her bedroom and banging on the window but I wasn’t in the mood for a lecture so I stumbled back to the van, laid the seat back as far as it would go, and tried to get an hour in before the dawn broke. Damn her. Damn Claire. And damn Gina Gilleni. Damn women in general. If Gina hadn’t gone and gotten herself killed I wouldn’t have had to leave Vegas, I wouldn’t have run into Claire and slept with a married woman, and I wouldn’t be sleeping in a van in my sister’s driveway because she was pissed and locked the door.
    It was miserable hot even with the windows down and I was hungry to boot. We never did eat dinner and my stomach was protesting. I didn’t want to crank the engine and run the air out of fear of some freak leak somewhere that would pump the van full of carbon monoxide.
    I was totally drained physically, mentally, and emotionally. Either I dozed off or passed out from hunger and heat exhaustion because the last thing I remembered before my eyes closed was cussing Rhonda for everything she was worth. And now here she was in a tank top and pajama shorts standing beside the van, arms folded across her chest, jaw set firm. I batted my eyes against the painful sunshine and struggled to sit up, reminding myself of an old man trying to get out of a recliner.
    â€œWhat time is it?” I asked, my throat as parched as the Texas landscape.
    â€œSeven-thirty. I’ve got the coffee on.” She turned on her heel and stomped back to the house.
    I didn’t want coffee. I wanted a real bed with a real pillow in a cold room. I forced my legs to carry me inside. Rhonda was stationed at the arch between the kitchen and living room, sipping a cup of coffee through the scowl on her face.
    â€œI’ll grab a cup later,” I mumbled.