Page 29 of Almost Dead (The Cahills 2)

No use arguing. Especially when she was right. “Okay, I’ll talk to you later, but if you change your mind and want some moral support, I’ll come back and take you.”

“Moral support?” she said meaningfully.

“Give it a rest, will ya? I’m trying to help out.”

She started to come back with a hot retort, but instead she backed down and nodded. “Okay. You’re right. We both know where we stand.”

“Good.” He could barely believe it. She’d been so adamant, so prickly. As he passed by the couch, he ruffled B.J.’s hair and pressed a quick kiss to Cissy’s crown, surprising her.

“That’s not winning you any points, Holt,” she said, but she climbed to her feet and, still carrying Beej, walked him to the door.

“I’ll be back after work.”

“No, wait, you don’t have to—”

She didn’t finish her thought, and he took that as a good sign. As he jogged to the car, he felt her gaze on his back. When he reached the Jeep, he looked over his shoulder and saw Cissy standing on the porch in her bare feet holding the baby. Next door, Sara Delano, their neighbor, dressed to the nines, was picking up her soggy newspaper from the bushes near her front porch.

“Jack!” Sara said, waving and offering him a smile that was too wide for so early in the morning.

He waved as he hit the button on his remote lock. “Hey, Sara!” As he climbed into the Jeep, he saw that Sara, in long skirt, boots, sweater, scarf, and jacket, was picking her way across the adjoining lawns to the porch where Cissy stood. Good. He hated to leave Cissy alone even though she’d made damned sure he knew that she liked it that way.

Not that he really believed it. He glanced over his shoulder as he eased from his parking space and caught a picture of Cissy, ponytail blowing over her shoulder in the breeze as she clutched their kid. She was staring after his Jeep, her angry facade slipping, her expression pensive.

He grinned to himself.

Damn, if she didn’t look like she missed him already.

Cissy watched Jack pull away. From the corner of her eye she’d witnessed the quick exchange between Sara and him, then observed Sara’s eyes follow Jack’s movements.

So what?

They were all friends.

Sara and Jack had been close, no big deal.

It was nothing. Meant nothing!

And yet a ridiculous spurt of suspicion stole through her. She couldn’t help but wonder if Jack and Sara had ever had a fling.

Like Larissa.

Don’t be stupid, she instantly chastised herself. Sara’s your friend.

But it happened all the time, didn’t it? The wife was always the last to know. How many times had Sara commented on how “hot” Jack was? How man

y times had he tried to set her up with one of his friends, always saying that Sara was a catch? Before finding him with Larissa, Cissy would never have thought for a second that there was anything between her husband and their neighbor, but now…

Cissy gave herself a mental shake. So the looks Jack and Sara had exchanged once in a while seemed more than just friendly. Who cared?

She would not—absolutely would not—become one of those suspicious women she detested. What was wrong with her? If she couldn’t trust Jack, she certainly could trust Sara.

You’re over the edge because of last night and Eugenia’s death. That’s it. And because Marla is on the loose. She shivered at that thought and held her son closer as she thought about someone watching the house the night before. Had that been her imagination?

“Hey,” Sara called, holding a dripping newspaper away from her rust-colored jacket as she crossed the damp grass that separated their two houses. A redhead with porcelain skin and big eyes that flashed a deep forest green, Sara had been a model in high school and now was a high-powered realtor. She’d been married and divorced twice and now swore that she would remain single at least until she was thirty-five, which was still two years away. “I heard about your grandmother,” she said, tossing her hair out of her eyes as the newspaper dripped from one hand. “What a bummer. I’m so sorry.”

“So am I,” Cissy admitted as a gust pushed a few wet leaves across the grass and she turned her back to the wind. “It’s a shock.”

“Hang in there.” Sara came to the porch and trained her gaze on B.J. “Hey, there,” she cooed. Sara, who didn’t have any of her own kids, winked at Beej. The boy pulled his shy act, burrowing his face into his mom’s neck. “See that, it’s the effect I have on all men.”

---