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Sara looked at Jack, and they exchanged what might have been conspiratorial glances.
She remembered that he hated tile in a kitchen because it was slippery, and he needed all the traction he could get.
Pam ushered Ted into the living room. “There’s lots of space for entertaining,” she said. “Notice the easy flow into the family room. And the large windows let in plenty of natural light.”
Ted took a quick look at the rooms before proceeding to another that could be a first-floor office. Turning, he said, “I’d like to see the upstairs.”
“Of course.”
She led the way up, but Sara and Jack stayed on the first floor, watching the other two disappear around a corner.
“Are you responsible for all the homey touches?” he asked.
“Uh-huh.”
“They’re charming.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you own a furniture store or something?”
“No. Just a warehouse where I keep furnishings and knickknacks. If the house is already furnished, I advise the home owner about what to keep and what to put in storage. And which things to replace. It takes away from the salability of a house if the sofa arms have been scratched by a cat.” She struggled to act casual when she ached to reach out and pull Jack into her arms.
She longed to feel his body against hers. Feel his strength and the wonderful way he had of wrapping her close like she was the most precious thing in the world. At the same time, she ached to keep him safe, if that was in her power.
The emotions swirling inside her made it difficult to focus on his words.
But she realized he was saying, “You’ve obviously got an eye for design.”
“Making houses look their best is as much fun for me as it is a job.”
He was giving her a critical inspection, and she stood with her hands at her sides.
“Are you all right?”
“Why do you ask?”
“You have a strange look on your face.”
She laughed, struggling to make light of a moment that was so important to her that she could barely breathe. “I guess it’s from working eight hours straight getting this place ready.”
“All by yourself? Wasn’t a real-estate agent killed recently in an empty house?”
“Yes. I wasn’t alone. Several big, strapping college students help me move furniture. Two of them were here with me today.”
“Good protection.”
“And since I’m on a budget, using them cuts down on costs. the recession set me back for a while. I had to take some temp work to afford the rent.”
“That must have been frustrating.”
“Yes. But the real-estate market is picking up again. When I get more clients, maybe I can afford to hire some permanent help.”
“But right now you’re running yourself ragged,” he said.
“Do I look that wrung out?”
His expression turned rueful. “Sorry. That came out wrong. It’s not what I meant.”
JACK DRAGGED IN A BREATH and let it out, thinking he was out of practice when it came to women. He’d told himself he didn’t care what they thought about it. At the moment, he cared—a lot.
“I’m making a mess of this.”
“No.”
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Actually, I’m trying to get you to do me a favor.”
“Like what?”
“My brother dragged me here because he wanted me to see this expensive house that’s too big for one family, but he’s probably going to buy it anyway. You can see he doesn’t need my approval, but I came in his car, so I can’t leave on my own.”
“Inconvenient.”
Going for broke, he said, “If you get me out of here, I’ll buy you dinner.”
“That’s a very tempting offer.”
“Good.”
He strode to the steps, and called up. “Sara and I are leaving. See you later.”
“What?” Ted called down.
“We’ll talk later,” Jack answered, then turned back to Sara. “Come on, before Ted puts up an argument.”
“Are you sure it’s okay?”
“Yes,” he answered, knowing it wasn’t true. Ted was going to be pissed off. He liked things to work out the way he planned, but Jack was going to accommodate him only so far. He’d come along in an attempt to be brotherly. Now there was something else he’d much rather do.
“I’ve got to get my purse.”
He watched Sara head for the kitchen, noting the feminine sway of her hips. She was a very pretty blonde with blue eyes and a trim figure. His type. Well, that had been his type, when he’d felt better about himself.
Sara hadn’t stared at the scars on his face. What would she think about his mangled leg? He stopped himself from going down that road. At least he had two legs and the important parts between them. A lot of guys had come back in much worse shape.
Besides, he was getting way ahead of himself with Sara. He’d just met her. Yet he couldn’t banish the tempting picture of the two of them in bed together.
He strove for a neutral expression as she came back with a leather bag slung over one shoulder.
They walked outside together, and he looked at the two cars that had been parked at the property when he and Ted had driven up. A Mercedes and a Honda.
“I’m guessing you picked good gas mileage over luxury.”
“And also utility. I sent the truck back to my warehouse with the boys.” She gave him a direct look. “Actually, I’m living there for the time being. It’s a good way to save money.”
“Is that legal? Living in a storage facility?”
She shrugged. “The management didn’t ask. And there wasn’t anything about it in the lease. It came with a bathroom. And a little kitchen area, actually, so I can function there very well.”
“Okay.” He held out his hand. “Why don’t you let me drive?”
HAD SHE DRIVEN LAST TIME this scene had played itself out? Or had he? She honestly couldn’t remember. Back then, she was focused on getting to know Jack. Now everything had more than one meaning. And one of her jobs was to keep from saying anything that would put him off.
“Sure,” Sara answered, fishing her keys out of her purse and handing them over. When he unlocked the door, she climbed into the passenger seat, and he slid behind the wheel, then adjusted the seat to give himself enough legroom. She was glad the car was neat. Sometimes the back was full of items she hadn’t needed for a staging.
“Where do you want to eat?” he asked.
She thought for a moment. He’d asked her last time, and she’d suggested a place called the Pasta Station in Lisbon. Could she start changing their history by changing the venue? “There’s a little restaurant and bakery in Ellicott City. Genevieve’s,” she said, naming a place that was miles from the one where they’d eaten last time.
Ellicott City was an old mill town with a commercial area that hadn’t changed much in two hundred years because there was nowhere to expand. The antique buildings on either side of Main Street hugged the sides of a rocky ravine. Capitalizing on that disadvantage, the town had long ago transformed itself into a quaint shopping and restaurant area.
“I’ve passed it and wanted to go in.”
“The food is good, and the prices aren’t high.”
She leaned back, ordering herself to relax as she slid her eyes toward Jack, watching him put the car into gear and head down the driveway.
It was amazing to be sitting so close to him again. Amazing that they had this time together. In fact, she felt like every second was a gift from God.
The interior of the car was filled with his scent, so dear and familiar to her. She watched his strong hands as they clasped the wheel, somehow keeping herself from covering the closer one with her palm. She ached to touch him. Kiss him. Do all the things that she’d thought she’d never do again. Now he was tantalizingly within reach.
Of course, he wasn’t aware of any of her longings. For him, this was their first meeting.
He turned right, out of the development where the lots were supersized and the custom-built houses vied with each other for presence.
They were at the far edge of the county, and she hadn’t thought about the route to Ellicott City until Jack turned onto a major cross-county road.
Route 108.
Familiar scenery sped past. She tried to place it, then drew in a quick breath.
“Sorry, I guess I’m going too fast,” Jack said, completely misinterpreting her reaction.
“You’re fine,” she managed to say, but her mind was racing and her chest felt like it was being constricted by heavy bands.
She knew exactly where she was. This was the stretch of highway where she’d slid down the long hill in the snow. Where she’d hit the pickup truck and…what?
She couldn’t say for sure what had really happened. Would it happen again? Now?
Was this what fate had in store for her? A cruel joke? A few minutes with the man she loved—then blackness.
“No,” she whispered.
Reacting to the alarm in her voice, Jack looked toward her, just as a car rounded the curve ahead, passing another vehicle illegally and coming straight at them.
Chapter Three
Sara grabbed the handhold above the door.
“Watch out.”
Jack swore under his breath, his attention snapping back to the road as he yanked the wheel, moving them to the right so that he hugged the edge of their lane. When the car remained on their side of the road, he honked the horn and muttered, “What is that fool doing?”
Slowing their speed, he bumped onto the shoulder. Sara wanted to close her eyes. Instead she couldn’t take her gaze from the other car. Leaping back to its own side of the road, it passed them with inches to spare, but Jack was already too close to the edge of the shoulder.
The right-hand wheels were skimming the margin of the gravel now, and he was having trouble steering.
Looking to the right, Sara saw a steep hill with a creek at the bottom.
Her heart was in her throat as she braced for the long slide down. Like last time, but different. Beside her, Jack was still fighting to avoid disaster, slowing their speed and struggling to stay off the hill. Somehow he managed to keep the vehicle mostly on the shoulder. When he had enough traction, he swung back onto the center of the shoulder and stopped the car.
She gave him a grateful look. “Thank goodness. You’re a heck of a driver.”
“You mean good or bad?”
She felt a nervous laugh bubbling inside her. “Good, of course.”
Swiveling around, she looked behind her. If I’d been driving, we’d be down there in the creek.
He was the only thing that had saved them this time. Last time she’d been here, she’d been alone.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, as he pulled back onto the road.
“How was that your fault?”
“I distracted you,” she said, thinking that one of the questions circling in her mind had just been answered. Everything wasn’t happening exactly as it had the last time. The first time around, there had been no near accident on the way to dinner.
Was that a bad sign? Or was it actually good? What if nobody was after Jack now?
She wanted that to be true, so much, but she couldn’t count on it. Not when whoever was trying to kill him before had been so totally relentless.
Tempting as it was to relax her guard and just enjoy being with Jack, that wasn’t a smart idea.
She glanced at him and saw his brow wrinkle. “That’s right. You gasped. Just before that guy rounded the corner. But you couldn’t see him coming, could you?”
“No.” She scrambled for an explanation and came up with something plausible. “A woman I knew had an accident here. She was killed.” Saying it out loud sent a shiver through her. But it was the truth. Well, not the friend part. Sara Carter had been killed here. Or would be killed, unless she could change her fate—and Jack’s.
“That’s rough. When did it happen?”
