Free The Next Right Thing (Harlequin Superromance) by Colleen Collins Page B

expected him to apologize before he’d even said hello.
    “I shouldn’t have come to your work yesterday,” he said. “That wasn’t considerate.”
    “I was embarrassed that you—” she cleared her throat “—saw me in that outfit.”
    “Don’t,” he whispered, touching her arm. “You looked very attractive.”
    Was it her imagination or had the temperature shot up several degrees?
    “And I shouldn’t have bugged you with my problems like that.” Marc nodded as though agreeing with himself. “First I surprised you, then I heaped my issues on you.”
    He was still touching her arm. That and the intense, unsettling look in his gaze made her feel more than a little unhinged. This was the moment to get back to center, tell him she was working on getting a few names of local P.I.’s, pull away from his touch, get on with her life.
    Instead she stood and stared into his eyes.
    And he stared back.
    And, damn, if the moment didn’t morph into something deliciously perfect. His fingers on her skin, the warmth of the sun, mysterious scents in the breezes, those extraordinary blue eyes melting into hers...
    If this wasn’t joy, baby, she didn’t know what was.
    Marc wrinkled his nose. “What’s that smell?”
    “Huh?” She blinked a few times, ripped from the dream.
    He looked around, dropped his hand. “Smells like burgers and...tacos.”
    She pulled herself erect, released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “The Shamrock Palace likes to push those scents outside from some of its fast-food vendors. They think it lures people inside. I’ve only been here a little over a month, but I’ve never seen someone walk in wide-eyed, their arms outstretched, under the spell of the smells.” I’m running my mouth about burger-and-taco scents. I need to get out of here, pretend to have a life.
    “They actually force those smells outside?”
    “Yep. Push ʼem out into air.” She made a pushing motion with her hands as though that helped explain the physics of it all. “Well, I need to be go—”
    “Snooze!” He pointed at the logo on her T-shirt. “Now, there’s a great Denver restaurant. Didn’t know you liked it.”
    “Best pineapple pancakes and glazed doughnuts in the world. Haven’t found anything like them in Vegas. We also had a few office lunches at Snooze...remember Megan’s birthday party?”
    He thought for a minute. “No.”
    “She turned forty, and we brought black balloons with dumb sayings on them, like Aged Like Fine Wine—Fruity and Complex, and I’m Forty, What’s Your Excuse?”
    “Memorable sayings, certainly.”
    “But you don’t remember them.”
    He looked perplexed. “My life is a blur of business meetings, client luncheons and court appearances. But I do vaguely recall a lunch at Snooze where there were black balloons.”
    Wonder if you vaguely recall we sat next to each other. “Yeah, Megan and I used to go there a lot. She gave me this T when I left.”
    An awkward silence. Trazy wove around her legs, meowing.
    “That cat likes you,” he commented.
    “She needs a home. Hanging outside a casino isn’t good.”
    “Maybe you should give her a home.”
    “Oh, no. My caretaking days are over. Anyway, my uncle’s allergic to cats.” She plastered on a fake smile, started edging toward the parking lot. “Hey, about yesterday. I’m sorry, too. Got my boy shorts in a knot, said some things—”
    “Didn’t know I was clueless.”
    “Uh-huh.” Damn it. He’s following me. “Things like that. Look, I gotta go—”
    “How about dinner?”
    She stopped. So did he.
    A fat blackbird landed on the branch of a palm tree and emitted a rapid-fire ki-ki-ki.
    “No.” She headed to her car.
    “Couldn’t you pretend to at least think it over? My daughter, Emily’s, with me, but she has big plans tonight and I’m free. Was hoping you were, too.”
    “Sorry,” Cammie called out, “I have things to go, places to do.” Damn it. “I mean...never