The Bride Takes a Powder Read Online Free

okay?"
    Her sharp gaze took him in, and she
didn't look grateful. "I could have gotten rid of him myself."
    He cocked his head, giving her a
skeptical glance. "It's my job to stop trouble before it gets too far
gone. No one noticed, and it was over and done with quickly."
    "Well, I didn't need you to
step in."
    She obviously didn't know him, didn't
remember him at all. Well, that kinda
sucks. "I was just trying to help and, as I said, it's my bar and my
job." Jeez, what a bitch. "I
didn't do it for your gratitude." He placed both hands on the table and
levered himself up. She was a pain in the ass but still a customer. "I'll
send over a beer on the house." Gorgeous
and hot apparently don't equal pleasant.
    "Thanks, but I'm leaving."
She also rose, collecting her purse, and sliding it under her arm.
    "I'll go outside with you to
make sure Axel isn't out there."
    Her pale eyes darted to meet his. "You
don't need to."
    He didn't think in college he'd
ever been this close to her. Those light eyes were amazing—mysterious,
otherworldly. Reeling in his wayward thoughts, he said, "This is a nice
town. We watch out for people. Where are you staying?" She didn't answer
him. "Listen, it's dark. Axel's drunk and mad. I just want to make sure
you get home okay. Okay?" Her gaze wavered from him to the door. She
nervously resettled her purse under her arm and then, for a long moment, looked
at him as if inspecting for vermin. He stared her down. There'd been more
action tonight than usual, and he was absolutely not in the mood for this crap.
He didn't know what was going on with her, but she was as cold and gorgeous as
he remembered.
    It had been a few years since
college. He'd changed a lot from those days, so he didn't fault her for not
recognizing him. It took all his decent upbringing to not tell her she was
acting like an ungrateful ass. A hot-looking one but an ass.
    Speaking of ass, hers was
spectacular, he noted, as he followed her out the door. The evening air went a
little way toward cooling his hot temper and burning face. This was not turning
out to be his night. First a cheating accusation, then a woman who seemed to
actively dislike him for no apparent reason. All he'd done was get rid of a
drunk for her.
    "Which way are you going?"
Now that they stood outside next to each other, he realized how tall she
was—shorter than his six-two but not by much. Of course, even if she were
barefoot instead of wearing those high heels, she'd still be tall. Hm. A barefoot Norah Ballard. His cock
heated in arousal, thickening and pulsing against the placket of his khakis. Just goes to show that a guy can be turned
on by a bitchy woman if her legs are long and she has a world class ass. And
her face is about the most beautiful I've ever seen. Fuck. She stood right
in front of him, and he felt like a love-struck dolt. Lust -struck dolt. And she has
no clue who I am. Just add that to my crappy night!
    What
was my question? She scraped her teeth over the corner of her lower lip, her
suddenly bewildered gaze roaming the street. The expressions crossing her face
fascinated him. It almost seemed she didn't know where she was. They stood
silently, shoulders almost touching, sheltered from the misting rain by the
overhanging roof at the doorway, for how long he couldn't be sure.
    Surreptitiously staring at her
through lowered lashes, he finally remembered… "Where do you live?" Yeah, that's what I asked.
    Snapping a glance at him, she
seemed to come to her senses and pointed south on Route 20. "I'm just down
the street."
    Not quite in his right mind either,
he forced a smile, very much wanting her to trust him. New to town, bothered by
that idiot Axel, of course she'd be wary of someone she thought was a stranger.
"The McMillan house? I'll watch you until you get to the porch."
    "Goodness, Daddy," she
responded sarcastically.
    That made him chuckle and before
she could say anything else, he said, "Go on with you, woman. By the way,
my name's Mike