Free The Nosy Neighbor by Fern Michaels

visits, the weekend getaways, the little gifts he’d given her, the way he’d whispered in her ear, the way he’d kissed her. There had been no bells, no whistles, no breathtaking moments. She’d always been contented after sex, though. Her blood didn’t sing when she was around him. Did she love him? She thought she did. She liked him, or at least she had. Now, she couldn’t abide hearing his name mentioned. And yet she was going to marry him. Why was that? Because her clock was ticking, because her friends were all married. Because there wasn’t a line of men outside her door begging for her hand in marriage. Because it was time to get married. Well, she didn’t have to worry about that any longer. She wasn’t getting married to Jonathan or anyone else!
    Her head pounding, her ankle throbbing, she hobbled into the dining room, every expletive she’d ever heard in her life spewing from her lips. With a sweep of her arm, she sent the pile of wedding invitations flying across the table and onto the carpet. The dogs twirled and pranced as they tried to catch the swirling invitations. When Lucy saw that there were four invitations left on the table she was like a maniac as she ripped and tore at them.
    Both dogs, uncertain if this was a fun thing or not, jumped back into the fray, romping on the cream-colored invitations, then chewing at them.
    Satisfied that the invitations were ruined, Lucy pivoted around on her good foot and hopped her way back to the living room, where she collapsed on the sofa. She was suddenly chilled to the bone, more proof that she was probably coming down with a bug of some sort. She reached for the colorful afghan Nellie Ebersole had made her for her birthday and snuggled under it.
    The dream, when it came, was springtime in the Watchung Mountains. She was hosting a gala soirée to celebrate her appointment to the bench. Off in the distance, as she brought her champagne flute to her lips, she could see a man dressed in camouflage fatigues pointing a high-powered rifle directly at her. She screamed when the flute shattered in her hand.
    Did the marksman miss?
    Was it a warning?
    Lucy opened one eye. “Sadie! Don’t bark in my ear like that. Oh, God, now what?” She rolled off the couch and hopped her way to the door. Expecting to see the federal agents demanding to be let in, she was stunned to see Wylie, his arms full of packages. Take-out for Nellie’s party. “What time is it?” she mumbled.
    “Almost six o’clock. The party was canceled. Seems like everyone on the street has the flu or something like the flu. We’re going to have to eat all this stuff ourselves. You look like you have it, too. Do you?”
    Lucy did her best to focus on her neighbor, but her vision was too blurry. He was so cheerful, she wanted to slap him. “I think I’m catching something; but worse than that, I think I might have a concussion. I must have hit my head harder than I thought. If that’s not what it is, then that electric charge did something to my body. My vision is all blurry. It clears up, then the blurriness comes back. My ears hurt, and I have a killer headache.”
    “Do you want me to take you to the doctor? There’s a good one right down the road. He’s a GP, and everyone on the street goes to him. He’ll make a house call if you need it. Do you want me to call him?”
    The concern in her neighbor’s voice pleased Lucy as she hobbled to the kitchen. Her voice was apologetic when she said, “I think I’ll wait till morning, and if I don’t feel better, I’ll make an appointment. Is he open on Saturday?”
    “Yeah, he has hours from eight to noon on Saturday.”
    “By the way, I didn’t make a meat loaf for Coop. I think there’s enough left from yesterday if you mix it with something.”
    “If you want, I can take the dogs to my house, or I can stay here and take care of them. I can make us some dinner and a meat loaf for Cooper. I can fetch and carry for you, too. Are you