Free Deadly Neighbors by Cynthia Hickey Page A

something.” Her pasted on smile grew wider. “The women’s ministry committee is actually talking about giving some of the proceeds toward the adoption of the little girl I want.” She giggled and glanced sideways at Duane. “And here I thought I’d have to go to Mexico and steal one. Saving money is so slow, you know. Bye bye.”
    “Bye bye,” I mocked under my breath. What a fake.
    Duane watched the exchange with one brow cocked. “Yikes. It appears you two can’t stand each other. Why not?”
    I shrugged. Men were so dense. “No particular reason. Personality conflict, I guess.” He didn’t need to know she’d hated me ever since I’d shoved her into the lake on the night of Senior prom. It’d been an accident, but the murky water stained the white dress she’d worn and destroyed her elaborate hair style. I couldn’t remember exactly what we’d fought about, but I had a sneaky suspicion it had been about the tiara I’d worn on my head and the boy whose arm I’d been hanging on. Even then, she’d had her eyes set on Duane. Now, married to the pharmacist of our quaint little town, she didn’t seem satisfied. Being unable to bear children because of a sterile husband, she might be looking somewhere else again.
    Our food arrived, thankfully halting our conversation , at least for the moment. Duane’s lips pulled back and his mouth opened over his burger. Ketchup smeared the corner of his mouth. I decided to focus on my food, instead of watching him. Not that staring at him was bad. Far from it. The man could grace the cover of any country magazine in the world. Put a suit on him, and I’d probably have a heart attack.
    “So.” Duane set his burger on his plate. “Back to the question you asked me earlier.”
    “Which one?” My hands shook as I lifted my lunch.
    He smirked. His eyes smoldered. “About what I want. What’s your response to my answer?”
    Sheer terror. I decided to play it cool. “I asked what you wanted out of life.”
    “Uh-huh. And I answered.”
    Taking a bite and chewing gave me a minute to compose myself. I should’ve known better than to come here with Duane. Being alone, even in a crowded diner, was not the wisest thing I’d ever done. The man had always been blunt, even when he dashed out of my life after my senior year. He hadn’t pulled any punches then, and he didn’t now. Told me he wanted more than this Podunk town. Interpretation—he wanted more than me, Marsha Callaway. Two weeks after that, I’d ran into his younger brother’s arms to be consoled, wed a few months later, then got impregnated. Thankfully, in that order.
    “Look.” I wiped my mouth and folded my hands in my lap. “You can’t leave for fifteen years, disappear for the last ten of them, and waltz right back into the heart of the girl you left behind. I am no longer that girl, Duane. I’m a widowed mother who moved back in with her mother.”
    “You still do that eye-lid fluttering thing when you’re mad.”
    “Don’t change the subject.” Tossing my napkin on the table, I stood and leaned closer, my lips inches from his ear. “I won’t deny that I still love you, Duane Steele. You know me too well. But I think it’s too late for—us. You killed me that night, and you’re still twisting the knife.” I straightened. “Either we work at being friends, or you hop back on your bike and ride into the sunset.”
    Duane’s grin outshone the sun , and I willed my heart to slow. “You still love me. Then, Mars Bar, it’s only a matter of time. You’ll see I’m serious. That I’m changed.”
    “Puh-leese. ” Leave it to a man to only pick up on part of the conversation. “You’ve got an ego the size of that football field you’re so fond of.” I grabbed my purse. “Come on. I need a ride home.”
    “So,” Melvin’s voice drifted back to me. “If you want in, just let me know.”
    “Oh,” Kyle Anderson replied. “I definitely want in.”

 
    Chapter Twelve
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