The Art of Love and Murder Read Online Free Page B

customer edged in behind him. Lacy moved toward the exit, and he followed.
    “You don’t like the atmosphere of the Rendezvous?” He didn’t exactly smile, but his face invited.
    “It’s lovely, but, I, uh, well, I’m not exactly dressed for café lounging.” Did he have to look at her so hard? Not usually so easily unnerved, this man got in the way of simple verbal responses.
    “Have you looked around? It’s kind of a come as you are place, like Flagstaff in general.” He tilted his head toward her and lowered his voice. “I think that young lady over there has on her pajama bottoms.”
    Without looking, she chuckled. “It’s the style.”
    He held a hand out. “Chance Meadowlark.”
    She switched her muffin sack to the other hand, her thumb holding it against her tea, and shook his hand. “Lacy Dahl.”
    His grip wrapped around hers, warm and firm. The feeling migrated up her arm, across her chest and puckered her nipples. She dropped her chin with embarrassment. When next she looked up, he flicked a glance across her hand.
    “Is your fiancée, or maybe husband, not up for early morning runs?”
    The odd question gave her pause until she realized what he’d seen. “My...oh, no, I’m not engaged.” She wiggled her left fingers on the mug handle. Her wedding band now resided somewhere in the Scottsdale sewer system, but the diamond had been her adopted mother’s and she’d left it on her finger. “I’m widowed, actually. Three years. I suppose I should move it to another finger, but...”
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” His voice took on a formal tone. The easy to look at lips lost their invitation.
    “That’s okay.” She tucked a stray hair behind her ear and pulled her ponytail to the front of her shoulder.
    “It’s not okay.” He cleared his throat, clearly ill at ease. “I lost my wife a while back, too, and... a total stranger shouldn’t be asking.”
    “You’re not a total stranger.” She wanted to bring back the friendliness she’d heard in his voice, put him at ease again. “You know my name, and you did come to my rescue last night.” She sectioned a length of hair from her ponytail and brushed it along her chin.
    He nodded his head and took a sip of his coffee. “Scared the hell out of you, too. Or something to that effect, if I remember your words.”
    The slightest hint of a smile graced his mouth, yet the wall of reserve remained intact. Only the warmth of his eyes drew her in, touched a nerve, had her wanting to know more and wanting to run at the same time.
    “I probably scared you, too, the way I reacted. Hope you didn’t have a bruise on your thigh this morning.” Damn. Referring to his thigh sent a quiver between her thighs. What the hell?
    “Didn’t notice. Since you’re up early for a run, I guess you got over your fright and slept okay.”
    “I did, thank you. And thank you for, um, assisting me last night. I was so tired after dinner and after one little margarita, the short cut down the alley seemed like a good idea.”
    “You must’ve eaten at the Kachina. Margaritas as good as they used to be?”
    “I don’t know how good they used to be, but they were certainly good last night.” She chuckled. “Have you given up margaritas, or don’t you eat at the Kachina anymore?”
    She swore a shadow of a cloud passed over his head.
    “I haven’t been there in a few years.” He did a slow blink, glanced around the café.
    “You should try it again. Great food.” Her tea would be cold if she didn’t break away soon, yet her feet stayed planted.
    “Would you like to join me at a table?” The question started while he scanned the tables and ended with his gaze coming to rest on her face.
    “I can’t.” She wanted to shower and smell good, brush her hair out of its pony, put on eye makeup and oil essence before sharing a table with this man. How perfectly ridiculous . “I’ve got some phone calls to make before I head out.”
    “Are you