Home > Cold feet(51)

Cold feet(51)
Author: Brenda Novak

The fact that he didn't immediately back off, as he had earlier, seemed to take her by surprise. Her mouth opened and closed, twice, but nothing came out, and finally she began gathering up the wadded wrappers, napkins, empty paper cups and cigarette butts. "Maybe I did," she said at last. "In any case, you need to quit."

He tried to look puzzled. "Quit what?"

"Quit making me think about getting naked with you."

He laughed outright. "I wasn't the first one to take off my clothes last night."

"You took your clothes off quickly enough once you got the chance."

"True."

"And you goaded me into that little striptease in the first place."

"I won't deny that, either, but I'm certainly not going to help you run away from me just because you're a big chicken."

"I'm not a chicken. I'm being smart."

"If you can call letting fear get the best of you 'being smart.'"

Her brows knitted. "Stop twisting everything I say. I'm not going to sleep with you again."

He motioned for her to move away from the middle of the floor so he could pull the truck into one stall. "We'll see."

She caught him by the arm as he walked past her, her hand cool against his skin. "We'll see? I can't believe you just said that."

He stared down at the freckles he liked so much. "Am I supposed to pretend I don't know what you want?"

She immediately released him. "You're supposed to respect my wishes."

"Okay," he said. "I'll respect your wishes. The next time anything happens between us, it'll be your move." He gave in to the smile tugging at his lips. "But that's not going to change a single thing."

CALEB WASN'T WEARING anything special. After they'd finished the open house and gone back home, he'd showered and changed from his faded jeans into a pair of chinos and a button-down shirt. But he looked so good and smelled so good that Madison couldn't keep her eyes from him as they left home in his Mustang and headed toward Highway 20, which would take them north to Fidalgo Island. After their conversation in her mother's garage, she didn't want to be so preoccupied with her tenant, but something significant had happened in those few moments, something even more monumental than last night. He'd offered her the emotional support she'd needed for so long, and that was a powerful aphrodisiac.

At least thinking about him kept her from dwelling on what had happened during the open house. Most of those who'd come through were more interested in the fact that Ellis Purcell had once lived in the house, and died in the backyard, than they were in actually making an offer. One woman had even said that he was eternally damned and his ghost would probably linger on the premises for generations.

That woman's rudeness hadn't been easy to tolerate. But it was Annette who'd nearly driven Madison crazy. Her mother either fretted at her elbow, trying to defend Ellis at every opportunity, or fawned over Caleb, who'd been nice enough to mow the lawn and fix the fence while they were there. Annette had insisted on making him some lemonade, even though he'd told her water would be fine. She'd served him cake he'd initially refused. And after he came in from the yard, she had him relax in their most comfortable chair--and look through all of Madison's old photo albums.

"Wasn't she a cute baby?" her mother had gushed, over and over again.

Madison would roll her eyes and Caleb would grin because he knew perfectly well that she was squirming in her seat.

"You might have mowed my mother's lawn and suffered through my old photo album, but don't think that's going to change my mind," she said as they turned left onto the highway.

He cocked an eyebrow. "Did I miss the first half of this conversation? Because I don't have a clue what you're talking about."

"I'm saying I'm not going to sleep with you again."

His chuckle was a low rumble. "Sounds as though you can't think of anything else."

Maddy felt her face flush hot. He was right. She was completely infatuated with him. "It's the first time I've thought about it since the garage."

His smile said he knew she was lying, but he didn't call her on it, and she changed the subject before she could give any more away. "Did you see Johnny while you were out back?"

"No sign of him. But I did place a call to the police about the possibility that one of your brothers might have some tie to the murders."

Anxiety immediately tightened the muscles in Madison's shoulders and neck. "Did you tell them about the box?"

"No. I spoke to a Detective Gibbons, and said you had some suspicions from the way Tye and Johnny have been acting."

She grimaced, recognizing the name. "Gibbons was one of the detectives on my father's case. What did he say?"

Caleb reached out and squeezed her hand. "That they've already checked out Johnny and Tye and crossed them off the list of suspects."

"Only because they're sure it was my father!"

"Not anymore, they're not. Not after that other woman was strangled."

Madison missed the warmth of Caleb's hand when he returned it to the steering wheel. "So I don't have anything to worry about."

"That's what they told me."

"But who else could've taken the stuff out of that box?"

He seemed to consider the question. "Let's not worry about that stuff until we find it again, okay? Do you think you could get your mother out of the house tomorrow so I could look around?"

"I don't know. I'll try."

He switched radio stations, then leaned an elbow on the window ledge. "I was hoping for the chance to go under the house and take a look today. But your poor mother needed a distraction from all those strangers pouring through the door into what is normally her private space."

Madison blinked at him, surprised by his sensitivity. He hadn't seen Annette as overbearing, as she'd expected. He'd seen her as an insecure woman trying to cope with certain change, and he'd tried to help. "That's why you let her corner you?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I liked looking at your baby pictures."

Madison felt a flicker of guilt for not being more understanding of her mother. "I should've been more patient with her. It's not easy for her to open herself up to the kind of scrutiny she's received over the past decade or so."

"You should know," he said. "You were right there with her."

"That's probably why she wasn't willing to sell the house before now. Living with what's familiar, even if it's not good, is sometimes easier than taking a risk on the unknown."

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