RUNAWAY by Christie Ridgway Page B

that was protective and possessive. They both wore playful expressions and were feeding each other cookies as if they were pieces of wedding cake.
    The tenderness of the moment had Izzy’s heart flip flopping uncomfortably in her chest again, as if someone were turning a pancake. She’d grown up in a number of households during her childhood, and though most were those of aging female relatives, a time or two she’d been in a home led by a married couple. The husband-and-wife teams had always fascinated her. They were Italian households, so there were often a lot of loud voices and chaos in the kitchen, but the few times she’d witnessed a moment like this between a man and a woman it had skewered her heart.

    Because she didn’t know how to make that happen for herself. When she’d seen it, she’d tried memorizing the moves and deciphering the dynamics, but she’d been aware that her background was too full of Zia Sophias and solo Pop-Tart breakfasts to comprehend the ins and outs of the couple thing.
    Still, it was pretty to look at.
    Her gaze drifted toward Owen. He was apparently immune to the sweet domestic drama playing out just a few feet away from him. His attention was focused on the football game on the screen, and he didn’t look as if his discussion with Will— I must have made an error in judgment— had offered him any ease. His expression was stony and when he shifted on the bed, he winced.
    Her heart rocked again and she had to force herself to stride into the room, wearing a smile. “Hey,” she said. “It’s time for your pain relievers, Owen.”
    He didn’t look away from the game. “I don’t need anything.” His voice was surly.
    “Except a mood transplant, maybe,” she murmured, dropping the napkins by the lovebirds and heading for the bedside table where the big bottle of ibuprofen sat.
    “I heard that,” he said, still not looking at her.
    “Oops.” She made a big play of putting her hand over her mouth. “Did I say something I shouldn’t have?”
    His mouth twitched, then his eyes shifted her way.Their startling blue slammed into her, and it was she who rocked this time, her whole body, rolling back on her heels as she saw the spark of amusement catching fire in his gaze. “Okay, I’m being inhospitable, as well as cranky, and you’re an angel to put up with me.”
    She took in a careful breath to give herself time to camouflage the way that reluctant, self-deprecating humor affected her. It was as good as a spin on a Las Vegas dance floor. Her head felt just as dizzy.
    For the next half hour, he applied himself to being a more genial host. He turned off the TV, he accepted a couple of pain tablets and three cookies, he complimented Emily and poked at Will. That was like Las Vegas, too, the way the two couples meshed with such ease.
    Izzy truly relaxed for the first time since moving into Owen’s house.
    All four of them were smiling as Will and Emily bid Owen goodbye. Izzy followed them down the flights of stairs, all the way outside to Will’s truck.
    “Oh, I almost forgot,” Emily said, whipping around. “I brought you something.”
    “A present?” Izzy grinned. “For me?”
    Emily’s mouth turned down in a grimace. “Well, not exactly a present, but maybe things you’ll be just as happy to see.”
    “Huh?”
    Will was already scooping a cardboard box out of the bed of the truck. Emily leaned in to grab anotherand place it on top. “I’ll put them in the living room,” Will said, starting off again.
    Izzy watched him with resignation. “Are those what I think they are?”
    “Hey,” Emily said. “You should be happy to get the clothes. I hope they’ll be suitable for this climate, but they should be fashionable, since you just shipped them to me to hang on to right before we went to Vegas. The other box is full of books, I think. I’ve had it for a few years.”
    “Right,” Izzy said. “Thanks.”
    “What’s the matter?”
    “Nothing.” What