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Authors: Emelle Gamble
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the front door.” She pointed to the entry, twenty feet away. “I left a light on. Always leave the porch and the foyer lights on. My dad was a cop, and he reminded us of that every single time we went out. I’ll be fine.”
“I know you will.” Max wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “But I’m walking you to the door. I know how to behave on a first date if I want a second one.”
“Ahhh, smooth operator.”
He threw his head back and laughed, the sexiest sound she had ever heard.
“You don’t think you’re smooth?”
“No,” Max said. “I’m about as far from that as a man can be. But thank you for the compliment.”
They stopped at the front porch. “What happened to your dad? His name was Patrick, right? You said he died several years ago, ja? Very young, too.”
“Yes, he was. Only sixty-four. He’d never been sick a day in his life, but seven years ago, on Holy Wednesday, he got up at his usual 5:30 and said to my mother, “Did I pay the paper?” and then he fell dead of a heart attack.”
“I’m so sorry. But what is Holy Wednesday?”
“The Wednesday before Easter.”
“Why is it holy?”
“To commemorate the day Judas was paid thirty pieces of silver to betray Jesus.”
“I don’t see why that would make it a holy day,” Max said.
She opened her purse and began pawing through it. “Me either. We Catholics aren’t known for logic. It’s more about magic and faith.”
“What did your dad mean, do you think?”
“No idea. Although I’ve wondered if he didn’t actually ask, ‘Did I pay the piper?’ He was an ironic kind of guy.”
Max shook his head. “But your mother was sure he said paper.”
“I never asked her.”
“Ask her now.”
“It’s too late for that, I’m afraid.” Jill grabbed her house keys, her eyes hot with sudden tears.
Max took the key ring from her and opened the front door. He made no move to follow her inside. “I’m so sorry to hear this about your parents, Jill. I know how it feels to be . . .”
“Alone?” she said.
“You get some rest, okay?” Before she could move away, Max put his hand on her chin and kissed her on the lips. It was gentle, but nearly melted her earrings.
She drew away and saw that look again in his eyes, that look she had not seen for fifteen years, until tonight at the restaurant.
Max wanted to come in the house. He wanted her. The new her he had just met.
But nowhere nearly as bad as she wanted him. The old him. The new him. All of him.
Good god.
Jill froze. If she kissed him again, if she pressed her mouth on any part of his face, or felt his chest or thigh against hers, or his strong arms around her, she would be lost.
“Good night.” Her voice was cool.
Max gave her an intense look when she stuck out her hand, but he took her hand in both of his and squeezed it gently. “Good night, old friend. See you tomorrow.”
Without a backward glance, he walked to his car.
She stepped inside and closed the door. It took her a full minute to get control of her breathing.
These feelings can’t be trusted. I don’t even know him. Not this him. And he doesn’t know anything about me, this me, or any me I ever was.
Jill locked the front door, dropped her purse on the kitchen counter, flipped off the entry light, and walked down the shadowy hallway to her bedroom.
She undressed in the moonlight, feeling as if she was sleepwalking. She pulled her underwear off and dropped it in a heap and kicked off her sandals. Leaning down, she turned on the lamp on her dressing table and frowned.
Where is my jewelry box?
She grabbed her robe out of the closet and for the first time noticed the room around her.
Jill gasped, blinking several times as her heartbeat increased. The contents of her chest of drawers on the wall opposite were dumped onto her bed. Her closet was open, and boxes and shoes and clothes lay in heaps outside of it.
“What is going on?” The realization that someone had broken in to her
“I know you will.” Max wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “But I’m walking you to the door. I know how to behave on a first date if I want a second one.”
“Ahhh, smooth operator.”
He threw his head back and laughed, the sexiest sound she had ever heard.
“You don’t think you’re smooth?”
“No,” Max said. “I’m about as far from that as a man can be. But thank you for the compliment.”
They stopped at the front porch. “What happened to your dad? His name was Patrick, right? You said he died several years ago, ja? Very young, too.”
“Yes, he was. Only sixty-four. He’d never been sick a day in his life, but seven years ago, on Holy Wednesday, he got up at his usual 5:30 and said to my mother, “Did I pay the paper?” and then he fell dead of a heart attack.”
“I’m so sorry. But what is Holy Wednesday?”
“The Wednesday before Easter.”
“Why is it holy?”
“To commemorate the day Judas was paid thirty pieces of silver to betray Jesus.”
“I don’t see why that would make it a holy day,” Max said.
She opened her purse and began pawing through it. “Me either. We Catholics aren’t known for logic. It’s more about magic and faith.”
“What did your dad mean, do you think?”
“No idea. Although I’ve wondered if he didn’t actually ask, ‘Did I pay the piper?’ He was an ironic kind of guy.”
Max shook his head. “But your mother was sure he said paper.”
“I never asked her.”
“Ask her now.”
“It’s too late for that, I’m afraid.” Jill grabbed her house keys, her eyes hot with sudden tears.
Max took the key ring from her and opened the front door. He made no move to follow her inside. “I’m so sorry to hear this about your parents, Jill. I know how it feels to be . . .”
“Alone?” she said.
“You get some rest, okay?” Before she could move away, Max put his hand on her chin and kissed her on the lips. It was gentle, but nearly melted her earrings.
She drew away and saw that look again in his eyes, that look she had not seen for fifteen years, until tonight at the restaurant.
Max wanted to come in the house. He wanted her. The new her he had just met.
But nowhere nearly as bad as she wanted him. The old him. The new him. All of him.
Good god.
Jill froze. If she kissed him again, if she pressed her mouth on any part of his face, or felt his chest or thigh against hers, or his strong arms around her, she would be lost.
“Good night.” Her voice was cool.
Max gave her an intense look when she stuck out her hand, but he took her hand in both of his and squeezed it gently. “Good night, old friend. See you tomorrow.”
Without a backward glance, he walked to his car.
She stepped inside and closed the door. It took her a full minute to get control of her breathing.
These feelings can’t be trusted. I don’t even know him. Not this him. And he doesn’t know anything about me, this me, or any me I ever was.
Jill locked the front door, dropped her purse on the kitchen counter, flipped off the entry light, and walked down the shadowy hallway to her bedroom.
She undressed in the moonlight, feeling as if she was sleepwalking. She pulled her underwear off and dropped it in a heap and kicked off her sandals. Leaning down, she turned on the lamp on her dressing table and frowned.
Where is my jewelry box?
She grabbed her robe out of the closet and for the first time noticed the room around her.
Jill gasped, blinking several times as her heartbeat increased. The contents of her chest of drawers on the wall opposite were dumped onto her bed. Her closet was open, and boxes and shoes and clothes lay in heaps outside of it.
“What is going on?” The realization that someone had broken in to her
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