Read Online One Night in Weaver... by Allison Leigh - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Allison Leigh
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eyes considerably closer to his. Instead of making her feel more in control, though, it just made her more aware of how close the added height brought their lips.
“My sisters, now,” she said quickly, “
are
short.” She briskly set off for the parking lot and silently noted the way her fingers had squeezed the brownie from a perfectly cut rectangle into a near bow-tie shape. “The Trips, I mean. They’re five-two if they stretch. Which is an inch more than their mom.” He’d left the door unlocked, so she pulled open the squeaking passenger door and quickly tucked the brownie out of sight in a side pocket of her briefcase. She hadn’t been worried about her belongings. The truck had been in full sight the entire time, and there wasn’t a soul around except them anyway.
Stepping up onto the running board, she pulled herself up into the high seat and fastened her seatbelt while he got behind the wheel. Only then did she reach for her cell phone, also inside her briefcase.
Seeing she had four missed calls from Tristan Clay had her grimacing. There was only one reason he’d call her directly, and that was because of Jason McGregor.
“Something wrong?”
“Don’t know.” She unclicked her seatbelt again. “Would you mind waiting for a moment?” She didn’t really wait for an answer as she pushed open the door and climbed back out again, moving a few feet away from the truck before listening to the only message that had been left.
* * *
Seth watched her from inside the truck. He hadn’t seen the display on her phone so had no way of knowing who or what had put the serious look back in her eyes. Could be a patient. Could be McGregor for all he knew. Or it could be something more personal.
At the moment, he was just sorry to see that the lighthearted smile inside her chocolate-warm eyes had departed.
When she looked at her phone and tapped the screen before holding it to her ear again, moving even farther away from the truck, he decided it was a patient. A few minutes later, she ended her call and returned to the truck, her lips set.
“You all right?”
“Yes. A small crisis, I’m afraid.” She chewed her lip and seemed to come to an abrupt decision as she looked at him. “With a...a friend. Would you mind dropping me at her house? She lives closer to here than if I went back to the office to get my own car. I’m sure you have to get back to Cee-Vid—”
He backed out of the parking spot. “Where’s her house?”
Hayley’s lips and eyes both softened slightly. “Turn left at the end of the block. She lives in that new development out past Shop-World. Toward Cee-Vid’s airstrip. I assume you know where that is?”
His hands tightened fractionally around the steering wheel. The safe house was in the general direction she described. “I do. I’m surprised that you do.” Not many people did.
She exhaled, as if relieved. “Last year, Mr. Clay loaned one of his Cee-Vid planes to Casey so that he could take Jane to a funeral. She told me about it.” She refastened her seatbelt while she called Gretchen and asked her to reschedule the rest of her appointments for the afternoon.
Even though Hayley held the cell phone tightly to her ear, Seth could hear the laugh in her secretary’s voice as she said, “My, my. Lunch went that well, did it? I have never been happier to reschedule Mrs. Pittman.”
Hayley’s gaze skittered over him. Her cheeks were pink. From the sun, possibly, but he’d already seen for himself the way she could blush. For a woman whose profession was delving into the minds and emotions of others, it was a curiosity to him that she could still blush at all.
“It’s not like that,” he heard her mutter into the phone. “I’ll check in with you in a half hour. Thanks, Gretchen.” Then she was tucking the phone back in the side pocket of her briefcase. “Sorry.”
“Why?”
“Because—” She broke off and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.” She pointed
“My sisters, now,” she said quickly, “
are
short.” She briskly set off for the parking lot and silently noted the way her fingers had squeezed the brownie from a perfectly cut rectangle into a near bow-tie shape. “The Trips, I mean. They’re five-two if they stretch. Which is an inch more than their mom.” He’d left the door unlocked, so she pulled open the squeaking passenger door and quickly tucked the brownie out of sight in a side pocket of her briefcase. She hadn’t been worried about her belongings. The truck had been in full sight the entire time, and there wasn’t a soul around except them anyway.
Stepping up onto the running board, she pulled herself up into the high seat and fastened her seatbelt while he got behind the wheel. Only then did she reach for her cell phone, also inside her briefcase.
Seeing she had four missed calls from Tristan Clay had her grimacing. There was only one reason he’d call her directly, and that was because of Jason McGregor.
“Something wrong?”
“Don’t know.” She unclicked her seatbelt again. “Would you mind waiting for a moment?” She didn’t really wait for an answer as she pushed open the door and climbed back out again, moving a few feet away from the truck before listening to the only message that had been left.
* * *
Seth watched her from inside the truck. He hadn’t seen the display on her phone so had no way of knowing who or what had put the serious look back in her eyes. Could be a patient. Could be McGregor for all he knew. Or it could be something more personal.
At the moment, he was just sorry to see that the lighthearted smile inside her chocolate-warm eyes had departed.
When she looked at her phone and tapped the screen before holding it to her ear again, moving even farther away from the truck, he decided it was a patient. A few minutes later, she ended her call and returned to the truck, her lips set.
“You all right?”
“Yes. A small crisis, I’m afraid.” She chewed her lip and seemed to come to an abrupt decision as she looked at him. “With a...a friend. Would you mind dropping me at her house? She lives closer to here than if I went back to the office to get my own car. I’m sure you have to get back to Cee-Vid—”
He backed out of the parking spot. “Where’s her house?”
Hayley’s lips and eyes both softened slightly. “Turn left at the end of the block. She lives in that new development out past Shop-World. Toward Cee-Vid’s airstrip. I assume you know where that is?”
His hands tightened fractionally around the steering wheel. The safe house was in the general direction she described. “I do. I’m surprised that you do.” Not many people did.
She exhaled, as if relieved. “Last year, Mr. Clay loaned one of his Cee-Vid planes to Casey so that he could take Jane to a funeral. She told me about it.” She refastened her seatbelt while she called Gretchen and asked her to reschedule the rest of her appointments for the afternoon.
Even though Hayley held the cell phone tightly to her ear, Seth could hear the laugh in her secretary’s voice as she said, “My, my. Lunch went that well, did it? I have never been happier to reschedule Mrs. Pittman.”
Hayley’s gaze skittered over him. Her cheeks were pink. From the sun, possibly, but he’d already seen for himself the way she could blush. For a woman whose profession was delving into the minds and emotions of others, it was a curiosity to him that she could still blush at all.
“It’s not like that,” he heard her mutter into the phone. “I’ll check in with you in a half hour. Thanks, Gretchen.” Then she was tucking the phone back in the side pocket of her briefcase. “Sorry.”
“Why?”
“Because—” She broke off and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.” She pointed
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