Dead Certain - Mariah Stewart [119]
“After the past four days of no sleep and practically no real food, I’m thrilled at the prospect of a real meal. Lunch today consisted of half a bag of Cheetos—which I had to split with Miranda—and a package of peanut butter crackers from the vending machine in the lobby of the municipal building.”
“Well, we know we’ll do better than that here. Let’s go on inside, have a great meal, and chat with Steven and Greer.” He paused. “You sure you want to sleep in your house tonight? It still looks like a crime scene, with that tape and all.”
“I’ll be fine.” She wasn’t sure she would be able to get much sleep, all things considered, but she’d been thinking about it all afternoon and was trying to look on it as just one more challenge to be met.
Sean took Amanda’s hand in his and walked with her up to the back of the house, their arms swinging between them, their hips hitting once or twice. When they got to the back door, Sean reached around Amanda to push it open, and she turned, looking up.
“I seem to remember being right here in this spot not too long ago,” she said. “And you reached around me, just like that, to open the door. And then you—”
“Then I leaned down like this, and kissed you, like this. . . .” He did just that.
“No, I think it was more like this. . . .” Amanda put her arms around his neck and tugged his head down gently.
“I think you might be right.” He nibbled at the corner of her mouth. “As a matter of fact, now that I think about it—”
Greer opened the door. “Sean, is that—” It was a toss-up between who was more startled.
“Oh. Well. Sorry . . .” she said, and promptly closed the door.
“Thanks, Greer.” He laughed good-naturedly and murmured into Amanda’s ear, “Way to ruin the moment.”
“Guess we might as well go in,” Amanda told him.
“Might as well. Now that she knows we’re here and what we were doing, she’s going to be timing us.” Sean pushed open the door and permitted Amanda to precede him into the warm house.
“Hey, Steven. How was the trip?” he called to Greer’s husband, who was just walking into the kitchen.
“Good, good. Hey, way to go, Sean. Solving the crimes, putting that Giordano back in prison where he belongs, keeping the people of our little town safe.” Greer’s amiable husband spoke like the political animal he was. “You sure did make us proud.”
“Thanks. I’m just glad it’s over. It’s been tough for everyone involved,” Sean told him as he opened the oven door and peeked in, thinking that he had been right. Neither Greer nor her husband had a clue of what had really been at stake last night. “Something smells really good.”
“Get out of there.” Greer smacked him on the back with a dish towel as she came into the kitchen.
“What can I do to help?” Amanda asked.
“I was just about to set the table. Maybe you could take care of that while I finish up in here.”
“Sean, hand me that stack of plates.” Amanda reached for them as he passed them to her.
“It’s already after seven,” Greer noted as Amanda carried the plates into the dining room. “You both must be starving after the day you two had.”
“I could eat.” Sean grinned. “I guess Amanda could, too.”
“I’m really proud of you, Sean.” Greer turned the flame down under a pan at the back of the stove. “You did such a fine thing. I’m just . . . well, proud.”
“Thank you, Greer. I appreciate that.”
“I kept watching the coverage on the television this morning, and I kept thinking, ‘That’s my little Sean. He’s a hero.’ ”
“If anyone’s a hero, it’s Amanda. She permitted herself to be used as the bait to catch Giordano,” Sean said as he filled his arms with empty water glasses and headed toward the dining room. “She’s the one you should save your praise for.”
“Well, I am proud of her, too, of course I am.” Greer turned her back to the door and began to shred lettuce for the salad. “I know having to stay away from her house, having to practically live with a stranger all week long, has been a terrible strain for Amanda.”
“It never felt like living with a stranger, Greer,” Amanda said.
Greer turned around.