Free T's Trial: A Bone Cold--Alive Novel by Kay Layton Sisk Page A

was infectious, and he forgot his rebuttal as he leaned on the counter and laughed with her.
    “I’m sorry for the stereotyping,” she said, balancing herself on the counter next to him. They were facing each other, not a yard apart.
    Well, at least their cover was doing what it was supposed to do. “It happens.”
    “I’m sure, but I know better. And I’m trying to teach Harrison better, but you can tell what an uphill battle that is around here. Dub and his cronies all know how I feel about their lack of political correctness, much less common courtesy.” She crossed her arms in front of her, causing her breasts to rise just the slightest bit.
    It was an innocent move but not lost on T. He shifted his weight.
    She looked away from him, gazed through the window over the breakfast nook. T followed her gaze, concentrating with her on the lake glittering visibly in the sunset. “It’s just I see you,” she sighed, “and you are so—”
    “So what?” This was fascinating, he thought. He wanted an ending to this observation. BCA would eat this conversation up. That is, if he ever got past Fletch and back to normal, whatever that was going to be.
    “Well,” she searched for words, “my teenage baby-sitters would call you a gorgeous hunk.” She looked at him at last, her blue eyes widened, asking for forgiveness that this subject was even broached.
    “So what am I doing with Fletch?”
    “Kinda.”
    “There’s lemonade and there’s lemon chiffon pie. And both of them are good, depending on what you’re after.”
    She crinkled her brow. “That’s true enough.”
    The opening of the front door interrupted them. Harrison strode in, Fletch in his wake. “We’re continuing our lesson with rods and reels,” the latter explained to them as they marched past, heading for the small room by the garage. Harrison opened the door, the light switched on, and they disappeared inside.
    T had turned to watch them. Now they both leaned against the counter, one on either side of the sink. “This is really not like him,” he explained to Lyla. “If he catches a fish, what will he do with it?”
    “Eat it. If he doesn’t want to do that, release it. Tell him to come down to the store and get a license tomorrow before he undergoes this big time. You need one, too, if you’re going to be trying a new sport.” She grinned. “I should have brought a couple up. Believe me, Tib likes nothing better than to catch fishermen without licenses.” She cast her eyes upward to him. “Unless it’s to catch them over their limit.”
    T was temporarily lost in her eyes. He didn’t have any limits. Never had. He did have a new sport in mind though. Well, okay, an old sport with a new object. He couldn’t remember the last time he had attempted romance sober from start to finish.
    What had he gotten himself into now?
     
    *  *  *
     
    Fletch closed the front door and turned to T. He was already seated at the piano, his fingers rolling over the keys, one set of exercises after another. The taillights of the Jeep disappeared down the drive. “What did you think of our first experiment in hosting?”
    “Can’t decide if they were just bored or really do go to bed with the chickens. Is it even ten yet?”
    “Ten after. See, you were having such a good time, the hours just flew by.”
    T started over on Clair de Lune. “At the moment, I’m not sure if I love you or hate you.”
    Fletch stood beside the piano. He watched T’s face, the harsh lines gone from it for the first time in years. A little premonition of fear knotted in his stomach. Despite T’s earlier protestations, he’d always had a soft spot for women, and Lyla most definitely fit in that category. “You didn’t make a pass at her, did you?”
    “No. She thinks we are very much a couple.” He didn’t look at Fletch, didn’t take his eyes off some spot over the fireplace.
    “Good. Last thing we want or need is someone putting two and two together and