Free Shoots to Kill by Kate Collins Page A

yourself how she made it look like Bloomers.”
    “Okay, so Libby admires you and tries to emulate you. It’s awkward, but it’s not a crime.”
    “You still don’t get it. She’s not just emulating me, Marco. She’s hijacking my life. Look at all the things she’s done to be like me, even changing her name to sound like mine. I thought you of all people would understand how frustrating this is for me.”
    “You realize this is about the past, don’t you? You can’t stand it that Libby admires you because you still see her as that little pest you had to babysit.”
    “She was a pest, and I didn’t even tell you the half of it. Because of her showing up everywhere I went, my friends stopped asking me to hang out with them. Libby was at my house so much that my mom started buying her Christmas and birthday presents, and my brothers called her their other little sister. She didn’t just read my diary, Marco. She made entries in it—as me! But the absolute worst thing she did was to tell a guy whom I secretly liked that I had a major crush on him. She told him I had written his name all over the inside of my locker and then she opened it up and showed him the signs she had hung there! I was mortified.”
    “And you’ve never forgiven her, have you?”
    I opened my mouth to deny it, then closed it again. Could Marco be right? Was Libby’s behavior driving me crazy because I had never forgiven her? Was I blowing this thing all out of proportion because of grudges I still carried? I sat back, my mind reeling as my thoughts spun backward to those open wounds of my youth.
    Marco reached across the table and took my hands. “Let go of the past, Sunshine.”
    Let go. Sure. As if it could be that easy. I gazed at Marco’s handsome face and knew he was only trying to help. “Maybe you’re right.”
    “I’ll do whatever I can to make it better.” He rubbed his thumbs in the middle of my palms. “You know those foot massages you like so much?”
    I sighed dreamily. Was there anything better than a thorough foot massage, especially when delivered by a hot hunk with more on his mind than feet?
    Marco lifted one of my palms to his lips and nibbled it, sending tingles of ecstasy up my arm and straight to my core, which was rapidly turning molten. “And how about a bottle of that Italian wine we discovered at that great little restaurant on Rush Street to go with your massage?”
    I took it back. A foot massage, a hunk, and a glass of Brunella—now, that was the best.
    “And maybe top it all off with dark chocolate truffles from your favorite candy shop?” He raised an eyebrow to entice me. “My mother went home. My place is all mine again.”
    “Now, that sounds like a plan,” I said, fanning my face. If he didn’t stop kissing my palm soon, I was going to dissolve into a puddle of euphoria.
    “Would you two get a room?” Gert drawled, waiting to set our plates on the table.
    I gave Marco a little smile as we drew apart. “We were just discussing that.”
    When Gert left, I leaned forward to say in a sultry voice, “What time shall we launch your, um, Abby initiative?I can meet you at your place when you get off work this evening.”
    “You’re on, Sunshine.” Marco gave me a hot glance as he picked up his burger, but he stopped centimeters from his mouth. “Damn. I’ll have to take a rain check. I promised Libby I’d start on her case tonight.”
    Not tonight! My molten core cooled as a wave of disappointment washed over me. A protest was on my lips, but I managed to stifle it. If Marco wanted me to let go of the past, then that’s what I’d do. Although I still suspected Libby was playing him, I’d go out of my way to demonstrate that I was a benevolent person, not a begrudging crank. And if my prediction about Libby proved to be true, he’d just have to learn it the hard way.
    “I’ll hang on to that plan until you’re free,” I said cheerfully.
    He squeezed my hands. “That’s my