A Creed in Stone Creek - Linda Lael Miller [39]
“Okay,” Steven said, with a little nod. His expression, though, had turned serious again. “I still think you’ve been painted into a corner here, Melissa, because you didn’t want to hurt Matt’s feelings about all of us having supper together, and while I certainly appreciate that, I’m not real comfortable with the idea of imposing on you, especially on short notice.”
“It’s only one meal,” she pointed out.
If it was “only one meal,” another part of her mind wanted to know, why was her heart beating so hard and so fast? Why was her breath shallow and why, pray tell, did she feel all warm and melty in places where she had no damn business feeling all warm and melty?
Steven was quiet, absorbing her answer.
It was disturbing for Melissa to realize that she even liked watching this man think.
“You’re right,” he said at last, with a sigh that was all the more wicked for its boyish innocence. “It’s only supper. We’ll be there at six.”
“Good,” Melissa said, wondering exactly when—and how—she’d lost her reason. Hadn’t she been down this same road with Dan Guthrie a few years ago?
Dan, the sexy rancher, widowed father of two charming little boys.
Dan, the patient, fiery lover who’d turned her inside out in his bed on the nights when they managed to have the house to themselves.
Dan, who’d finally dumped her, in no uncertain terms, claiming she couldn’t commit to a serious relationship, and had taken up with a waitress named Holly, from over in Indian Rock?
Dan and Holly were married now. Expecting a baby.
And the little boys Melissa had come to love like her own children called Holly Mom.
Inwardly, she took a step back from Steven Creed, and he seemed to know it, because a shadow fell across his eyes and, for just a millisecond, a muscle bunched in his jaw. He wanted to lodge a protest, she guessed, having sensed her sudden reticence, but he didn’t know what about.
“Follow me,” Melissa said, in the voice of a sleepwalker.
Steven sighed, like a man who thought better of the idea but couldn’t think of an alternative, and nodded.
Melissa drove slowly from the parking lot of Creekside Academy, out onto the main road, and straight into Stone Creek.
Every few moments, she checked her rearview, and the big blue truck was back there each time, Steven an indiscernible shadow at the wheel.
You just want to sleep with him, Melissa accused herself silently. And what does that say about your character?
Melissa squared her shoulders and answered the accusation out loud, since there was no one else in the roadster to overhear. “It says that I’m a natural woman, with red blood flowing through my veins,” she replied.
You’ll start caring for Steven Creed. Worse, you’ll start caring for Matt. It’s a case of burn me once, shame on you, burn me twice, shame on me.
Have you forgotten how much it hurt, losing Dan and the boys? It was like losing your mom and dad all over again, wasn’t it?
“Oh, shut up,” Melissa said. “I’m serving the man supper, not a night of steamy sex.” She sighed. She could really have used a night of steamy sex. “And the joke’s on you. I already care for Matt.”
You need a child of your own. Not a substitute.
“Didn’t I ask you to shut up?” Melissa countered, almost forgetting to stop at a sign.
Sure enough, Tom Parker’s cruiser slipped in between her car and Steven’s truck, lights whirling. The siren gave an irritating little whine, for good measure.
As if she wouldn’t have noticed him back there.
Swearing, Melissa kept driving the half block to her own house, and parked.
“Did you see that stop sign?” Tom asked cordially, climbing out of the squad car. His dog, Elvis, rode in the passenger seat. In Stone Creek, Elvis counted as backup.
“Yes,” Melissa said tersely, “and I stopped for it.”
“Just barely,” Tom pointed out, glancing back at Steven’s rig.
Melissa watched as the flashy blue truck, which probably sucked up enough gas for four or five cars to run on, drew up alongside her roadster, and the front passenger-side window buzzed down.
“Is everything all right?” Steven leaned across