On Pins and Needles by Victoria Pade Page A

couldn’t bring herself to do it.
    It would be rude, she rationalized. Not to mention that being on the good side of the sheriff seemed wiser than alienating him any more than she already had.
    It didn’t mean she was any less resentful of his suspicions of her parents or any less on their side. It was just good public relations, she assured herself.
    â€œSandwiches,” she repeated as if to remind herself.
    â€œFurniture,” Josh said the same way.
    Then he pushed off the door and spun around to the stair case.
    And only when his eyes slid away from her then did she realize he’d been watching her very intently. So intently that it was almost as if she’d been under a heat lamp. A heat lamp that had just been turned off.
    It was a strange sensation. Especially since it was ac companied by the slight wave of disappointment she was experiencing, as well as the desire to regain the warmth of that midnight-blue gaze in whatever way she could.
    Crazy. Definitely crazy.
    â€œFood,” Megan whispered to herself, again in reminder.
    Maybe she hadn’t gone crazy, she thought then. Maybe hunger had made her go haywire. Maybe as soon as she got some thing in her stomach she’d be more resist ant to Josh Brimley’s effects.
    And it was with the hope that that was true that she forced herself into motion and went to the kitchen.
    Â 
    It took nearly forty-five minutes for Megan to get the sandwiches ready. The search had left her kitchen in as much disarray as the rest of the house and she had to clear space among the dishes, pots and pans, utensils, and even food stuffs that had been left out of cup boards, drawers and pantry to litter the counter tops and kitchen table.
    But even after making room to prepare their food there still wasn’t anywhere to eat it so, when shefinished, she decided they’d have to dine picnic-style in the living room, around the coffee table.
    With that in mind, she piled everything on a tray and pushed through the swinging door that connected the kitchen to the living room.
    Josh was already in the living room, pushing the sofa against the wall facing the front door and the picture window. It was the last of the furniture to be put back where it had been and once it was he took a quick scan of the room.
    â€œAll done,” he announced just as Megan set the tray on the coffee table. “Upstairs and down. I think I have pretty much everything in order again. Except the books in that case in the upper hall. I thought you’d probably rather put them in whatever order they were in before and I didn’t know what that was.”
    â€œI’ll do it later, when I put things back in the drawers and clean the kitchen,” Megan said. Then, glancing at the tray full of food, she added, “I thought we could eat in here.”
    â€œA picnic,” he said as if he’d read her earlier thoughts.
    â€œMmm. The kitchen is in pretty bad shape.”
    â€œSorry. But I think eating in here is a great idea anyway. I like things casual.”
    Megan knelt on the floor between the coffee table and the couch to set out the two food-laden plates, silver ware, napkins and tall glasses of iced tea.
    â€œCloth napkins aren’t too casual, though,” Josh observed as he sat just around the bend of the oval table, also on the floor, with his back against the sofa and oneleg bent at the knee to brace his forearm while his hand dangled over his shin.
    â€œWe don’t use paper napkins. Cloth can be washed and reused. It’s better for the environment,” she explained.
    â€œAh.”
    He didn’t say more on that subject and Megan appreciated his restraint.
    â€œBig sandwiches,” he said then, nodding toward his plate as he used his free hand to flip open the cloth napkin and lay it across the thigh of the leg he had extended out in front of him.
    â€œThe bread is seven grain, homemade,” Megan explained. “Inside