Page 42 of Winter Vows

There was a good reason for that, Trish thought. Sharon Lynn was a direct pipeline to the rest of the family. The less Trish saw of her, especially in Hardy’s company, the better.

“Not this time,” she said. “I have things to do.”

“What things?” he asked, deliberately testing her.

“Things,” she declared more emphatically.

He chuckled. “Darlin’, you’re going to have to be more specific than that or Sharon Lynn will think you don’t like her.”

“I like her just fine. And you don’t have to tell her that I’m doingthings,just that I’m busy.”

Hardy’s gaze narrowed. “I think I’m beginning to figure out the problem. You don’t want her to see us together. Is that it?”

“Of course not.”

“Oh, I think it is. Because if she sees us together, she’ll draw all sorts of wild conclusions, report them straight back to Harlan or the others and,bam,we’ll be right back where we started.”

Trish sighed at his perceptiveness. “Bingo.” Why did the man have to have so many admirable traits? Why did he have to be perceptive, of all things? Men were usually clueless. When she’d thought of him as nothing more than a handsome, sexy scoundrel, they’d both been better off.

He tucked a finger under her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. Her skin tingled, even from such a simple touch, and Hardy looked as if he’d been singed. Still, he gazed at her evenly, his expression serious.

“Surely we can behave for fifteen minutes,” he teased. “I won’t kiss you senseless in front of her, the way I do at least ten times a day in here, when we’re all alone. I will keep my hands to myself. She won’t suspect a thing.”

Trish chuckled despite herself. “Okay, I suppose we don’t have to give her anything to report back to the army of meddlers. In fact, it might be good if we’re seen out in public doing absolutely nothing romantic or personal.”

“I’ll even let you pay for your own shake, so no one will think it’s a date.”

“Fine. I’ll get my purse.” She glanced at him worriedly. “You are going to put on your shirt, aren’t you?”

He shot her a look of pure innocence. “Me being half-naked doesn’t bother you, does it?”

“Of course not,” she lied, perfectly well aware that he’d deliberately chosen the wordnakedjust to rattle her. She refused to let him see that she was suddenly awash in images of him without a stitch of clothing from head to toe. Keeping her voice cool, she said, “But you’ll freeze if you step outside like that, and besides, I’m pretty sure Dolan’s has a shirt-and-shoes policy.”

Good, sound, rational reasoning, she thought.

Hardy laughed.

“Then by all means, let me grab my shirt,” he said, his eyes twinkling with unabashed amusement. Five minutes later they strolled next door. At twothirty, the lunch counter was deserted. Sharon Lynn was scrubbing the grill. She brightened when she saw them.

“Oh, am I glad to see you,” she said. “I can take a break. I hate this job. It’s one of those necessary evils I can’t seem to make myself foist off on the part-time help. Are you here for food, sundaes, what?”

“Milkshakes,” Hardy told her. “Thick, chocolate for me.”

“Make that two,” Trish said.

“How’s the work coming on the store?” Sharon Lynn asked as she put double scoops of chocolate ice cream and milk into the metal container and attached it to the machine that would stir it into an old-fashioned, thick, frothy shake.

“The shelves should be done this week. I’m expecting my book order on Monday. I figure I’ll be open by the first of March,” Trish told her. “I thought I’d have some sort of grand opening party.”

“Let me do the food,” Sharon Lynn volunteered. “I can fix things other than burgers and fries. I’d love to do it. There are days when I’d kill to be able to make pretty little hors d’oeuvres.”

“Work up a menu and a price list and you’re on,” Trish said.

“No price list,” Sharon Lynn said. “The Adams family will pitch in. It will be our grand-opening present.”

“I can’t let you do that,” Trish argued.

Sharon Lynn exchanged a look with Hardy. “Tell her,” she commanded.

---