Born Again by Rena Marks Page A

at her. “Yeah and by the way, I love you too,
baby.”
    She’d been teasing, but the words made her stomach flutter.
    * * * * *
    Beau dropped her back off at work, then decided to come
inside and place an order since he was there. Sara rang it up, but warned that
someone else would have to deliver.
    He winced and she couldn’t tell if it was because he
wondered if it would be Mike, or because he remembered she’d be with Aric.
    She knew it was the latter when he grabbed the back of her
head and lifted her face for a hard kiss on the mouth. He forced her lips open
and delved inside. Taking, possessive strokes with his tongue, teasing her
senses while he satisfied his own.
    “Think of that later,” he whispered and when she blinked he
was gone.
    He left, whistling casually, while she ached for the feel of
his hard body pressed against hers.
    Bemused, she wondered if she would think of the possessive,
wonderfully arousing kiss when Aric took her into his arms.
    A few moments later, the front door opened to Mike Johnson.
    “Girl, was that Beauregard Pierson’s convertible outside?”
    “Yes, it was.” Her voice was calm. She didn’t owe Mike any
explanations or anything else.
    “What was he doing here?”
    “What do most people do here?” She held up his printed order
that she was just going to fill.
    “Gimme that,” Mike said, grabbed for the receipt.
    It tore, the rip sounding harsh enough to make everyone else
stop and stare.
    “Calm down,” she snapped.
    “You know I get his orders.”
    “Oh, quit being so territorial, Mike.” She handed him the
bottom half of the receipt and walked away.
    Mike watched her feminine sway with narrowed eyes. Bitches
were all the same. He could sway the same as her, but would it command the same
attention? In fact, she didn’t even notice the men who looked her way, trying
to catch her attention. She could have any man she wanted and the tramp chased Beauregard
Pierson.
     
    Another set of eyes also watched the unconscious sashay of
Sara Michaels. These eyes were old and all knowing, the oddest shade of yellow-green,
almost like a cat. They were set in a face of deep wrinkles, older even because
they’d stood the test of time.
    Several times.
    They watched, noting everything about Sara, her size, her
shape, her similarity to a certain person in the past. When she disappeared
upstairs, the cat eyes focused their attention on Mike Johnson.
    They studied him, somewhat harshly, until he gave an
unconscious shudder and scurried away like a rat in the kitchen.
     
    Mrs. Alizo watched as Sara walked past her office. Her
telephone was pressed to her ear tightly. “Oh, Sara, honey, come here, please.”
    Sara walked in and raised her eyebrow.
    “I need someone to run downtown for me and pick up some
vegetables from the outside market. Can you do it?”
    “Sure.” Sara shrugged. It would get her away from Mike for a
while.
    Mrs. Alizo turned her attention back to the phone. “Okay,
Duke, I’ll send one of my employees, Sara Michaels, down for it. You’ll have
the box ready for her? Yup. Thanks.”
    She disconnected and faced Sara. “Thanks so much. It’s the
vegetable stand, his name is Duke Alkire. He has the box of veggies ready and
he’ll just send me the bill. Oh and sorry, but there’s a fair going on down
there too, so it’ll be a little crowded.”
    Sara nodded and went to retrieve her purse.
    * * * * *
    Mrs. Alizo was right. It was crowded. The fair was more like
a carnival with circus freaks trying to solicit everyone’s attention at every
chance they got.
    Sara was looking for the vegetable stand when a psychic’s
tent caught her attention. Maybe this was the “better psychic in town” that
Mattie had mentioned. The old woman standing outside her outrageously colored,
purple and red tent was dressed as a witch. She smiled at Sara, her two teeth
blackened in a face that was a mass of wrinkles, a jigsaw puzzle come to life.
    “I know a secret about ye,