“Everyone’s talking about it,” she murmured, thumbing through a magazine.
“You’re defending Slinkerhoff’s nephew, right?” Winnie said. “Do the police think he did this, too?”
When Mary raised her eyes, she looked at Katie, even though it was Winnie who’d spoken. “Haven’t you heard?”
“Heard what?” Katie said, feeling oddly singled out.
“It was Jon Small’s place that was broken into, and nothing much was stolen. It’s more like an act of revenge.”
Katie’s heart leaped into her throat, but she refused to show her fear. “So?”
“They think Booker did it.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
AFTER HER FIRST DAY of work, Katie was in a hurry to get back to Troy. But she couldn’t pass Lionel & Sons without stopping in. Considering what Mary had said, Katie was worried about Booker. Somehow, that took precedence over the decision she’d made in the hospital to keep a safe distance from him.
She couldn’t see Chase or Delbert. They seemed to be gone for the day. But she could hear Booker talking on the phone as she approached his office. She knew he hadn’t noticed her pull up when she knocked softly on his open door and he glanced over his shoulder—and blinked in obvious surprise.
“I’m telling you I think there might be a problem with those tires,” he said into the phone. “I don’t care about that…I sell more snow tires than anything else…Listen, I’ve got someone here. Call me tomorrow, okay?”
He twisted away to hang up, then turned back to face her, and the tension in the air seemed to crackle like static electricity. Stretching his legs out in front of him, he crossed them at the ankle and his gaze dropped to Katie’s high heels and slowly worked its way up her legs, over her short denim skirt and stretchy T-shirt before meeting her eyes again. “What’s up?”
No wonder women fell at his feet. Just the way he looked at her made Katie breathless. She had a sudden impulse to cross the room, slip into his arms and let him kiss her with that wicked mouth of his while her hands roamed over the muscles and contours she remembered so well. But she supposed her hormones were still a little screwed up, because Booker wasn’t part of her immediate plans. She wasn’t even sure he was part of her long-term plans. She was a mother now and was going to move much more cautiously in the future than she had in the past. She’d only come to talk…and support him, if there was any way she could.
“I heard Jon Small’s place was broken into last night,” she said.
He turned a pen over and over in his hands. “Who told you?”
“Mary Thornton. She just came into the salon.”
“Watch yourself around that woman.”
“Why would I need to watch myself?”
He tossed the pen onto the desk. “Because you’ve got the man she wants, and she’s out to get him back.”
“I don’t ‘have’ Mike. We’re just friends.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I thought you were going to marry him someday.”
“Is that why you sent him to the hospital?”
“I didn’t send him to the hospital. I just let him know you’d had the baby.”
“You didn’t tell him you delivered Troy.”
“I didn’t figure he’d be interested in that part.”
She folded her arms and tapped one foot. “So now you’re playing Cupid?”
“No, I’m just getting out of the way.”
“I have to work with Ashleigh now,” she said, and wasn’t sure why she’d said it, especially so sullenly.
With a sigh, he closed his eyes and ran one finger over his left eyebrow before looking up at her again. “If you don’t care about me, Ashleigh shouldn’t make any difference, right?”
“Tell me what happened between you and Jon Small,” she said, trying to get back to the reason she’d stopped by in the first place—before the conversation could drift any further into topics she’d rather not discuss.
“Nothing.”
“Then why do the police think it was you who broke into his house?”
“Because folks around town aren’t particularly happy there’s a robber on the loose, so the police need a suspect. Problem is they don’t know how to actually solve a crime. They can only pick someone they don’t like and go with that.”
“Then tell me you have an alibi—preferably one that doesn’t depend on Delbert. Or Ashleigh,” she added before she could catch herself.
She hoped he was going to ignore this latest jab but knew better when he stood up and shut the door. “I’m sensing some hostility here,” he said. “Maybe we should talk about it.”
“No, never mind. I didn’t mean anything by what I said.” She took a step back for every step he took toward her, but it didn’t do any good. A moment later, he had her backed up against the wall and closed the remaining distance between them in two long strides.
“First of all, you left me for Andy,” he said, propping an arm against the wall over her left shoulder.
“I—I know that.” The scent of leather, mingled with Booker’s aftershave, distracted her as he moved closer.
“Second of all, you never looked back.”
That wasn’t entirely true. She’d spent many nights in San Francisco, lying awake, missing Booker. She just hadn’t had any confidence that her life would’ve turned out better if she’d stayed with him. She’d always told herself her only mistake in getting away from Booker was jumping from the fire into the frying pan. “And third?” she said, her heart beating so hard she could feel it knocking against her ribs.
“Third, we weren’t committed in any way when I went home with Ashleigh.”
She stared up at him because she couldn’t argue. She might have looked back once she’d left him, but she certainly didn’t do anything to let him know it. And he was right about the other two.
“So why are you holding Ashleigh against me?” he asked.
She could smell wintergreen on his breath and knew he’d probably been snacking out of the vending machine Delbert loved so much. “I—I’m not.”
“Sounds like it to me.”
She couldn’t think when he was standing so close. “Maybe that’s because you forgot about number four.”
“What’s number four?”