Page 63 of Hot to Trot

They wound through the kitchen, where Rayne stood at the stove, focused on whatever was in the saucepan. She merely grunted when Scarlet told her they were going outside. Scarlet pushed through the screen door her aunt had insisted on keeping when her sister had overhauled the inn that past spring.

The moon hung low, a lonely sliver in the deepening darkness. Bright stars laced the inky stretch, tiny fireflies woveninto a tapestry. Crickets chirruped and a thick humidity settled around them like a cloak. It was intimate, sticky, and seductive. Not what she needed.

"So?" She settled on the second step from the bottom.

"Nice night," he said, avoiding her question. He crossed the flagstone pavers, crushing the herbs planted in between with his cowboy boots and releasing their scent. Beneath a recently planted weeping willow was a cedar swing, polished and framed by iron scrollwork. He sat on it.

She cocked her head. "Did you come to pontificate upon the weather or was there another reason?"

"You're grumpy when you wake up."

"Most people are. Who jumps out of bed crapping sunshine?" she snapped. The man showed up at 8:30 p.m. and wanted to trade civilities?

She had every reason to be ill-tempered. His life hadn't turned sideways and bassackward. He wasn't serving a probation sentence under someone he wanted throw down on a bed and have her way with. He hadn't received a phone call from an ex-lover... one he hadn't heard from in over a year. And he wasn't teaching ex-gang members how to find truth in their characterization of a damn blackbird. Scarlet felt as if she'd been pulled into a strange world that she had never wanted to be in. So yeah, cranky.

"So nicely stated," he muttered, setting the swing into motion.

"Sue me. I'm not a happy camper when someone wakes me up and doesn't tell me why he bothered to pull me out of bed."

She closed her mouth because the look Adam gave her could cook bacon. It was that damned sizzling. Must have been her mentioning getting out of bed. She frowned the prickle of awareness away and concentrated on the fact she'd rather be in bed. Alone. At least that's what she told herself.

He cleared his throat. "Right. I came by to discuss the weather. How astute of you."

"Okay. Sorry."

"First, I want to apologize for making things difficult for you. I've tried hard to ignore whatever this is between us. I know it's made-"

"You didn't have to come by to say that again. Haven't we had this conversation a bazillion times? We’ve beaten that horse to death. So-"

"Yeah, we have.” He took a deep breath. ''Actually, I came by because you have a few crazy fans."

“I have more than a few. Last time I checked I had half a million followers on Insta and a few more on than that on Twitter or X or whatever they call it these days.” She wasn't arrogant. People followed her. She didn't know why. She rarely posted anything remotely interesting. She couldn't figure out people's fascination with knowing things like what other people had for dinner or how many times their dog had chewed a shoe.

"Yes, but these are more up close and personal.'

“What do you mean?" She hadn't told him about Harvey Primm lurking in the bushes. She'd nearly forgotten about the loony bird of a deacon. "I caught a photographer waiting to snap a pic of you with the clients at Phoenix. Oh, sorry, I meanpaparazzi.He seemed particular about the designation."

Adam leaned forward and propped his arms on his knees. The movement made his shoulders seem broader, more virile. She noticed and wished she hadn't.

"Oh, well, that's par for the course. Tabloids are always looking for scoop. Americans love catching celebrities misbehaving. They even take pictures of them squeezing oranges at Whole Foods."

"Maybe so, but this guy said he'd seen Harvey Primm watching you. That doesn't sit well with me."

She felt uneasy. The man had actually followed her around? Mark her as officially creeped out. "What do you mean? He's been stalking me?"

"I don't know, but you need to be careful. Check your surroundings and keep your cell phone with you. Do you have mace or pepper spray?”

Guilt tapped her on the shoulder. Okay. That was another good reason to take her phone. She had to stop being stubborn. “I have some and I will keep my phone nearby. Why's he doing this?”

Adam stood. "Not sure. He's obsessive when he has something on his mind. I've been here almost a year and there always seems to be some issue he's tackling. Usually he uses his newspaper to attack a person, but he seems to have taken this censorship thing personally."

"I don't get it. Having a difference of opinion is what makes us American. It shouldn't lead to forcing his beliefs down a person's throat. He's confronted me before and I-"

"When?" He took a few steps, his shadow falling across her.

"About a week ago. He showed up while Henry and I were tossing the ball around. He waved a newspaper around and said I was trying to make him look crazy. Honestly, he does that all by himself."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

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