Westbury. Most of the townspeople called him by his first name.“That’s OK. I grew up on a farm. I’m used to animals.”
The front door opened directly into the living room. He wiped his feet on the doormat before stepping on the gleaming hardwood floor. The walls were painted a soft yellow, set off with bright white trim. A worn sofa and chair faced the fireplace and small flat-screen TV. Stairs against the living room wall led upstairs. “And I’m glad to see you have a big dog.”
“Zeus is better than any alarm. There is no security system in the world that will tell me if someone is standing on the sidewalk thinking about breaking into my house.”
“An alarm system still wouldn’t hurt. Security is all about layers.” Ethan followed her through the dining room, checking out a few pictures on a sideboard as he passed. Abby with Brooke and the track team at a big celebration. Several photos of Abby at various ages with a blonde woman who had to be her mother. She looked to be a generation older, with the same delicate features but with a hard edge to the set of her mouth that said her life had been a disappointment. “Dogs can be poisoned or shot.”
Abby’s face paled, and he regretted his last comment.
“Not that it happens often,” he said. “Dogs are a good deterrent for the average criminal.”
The house was built shotgun style. Rooms were stacked one behind the other, with just an archway in between. The second story would be slightly larger as it extended over the garage. She led him into a tiny square kitchen. A table for two was nestled under the window. One empty mug sat on a yellow placemat. Yellow curtains framed a view of a yard fenced with chain-link.
“Good morning, Ethan.” Brooke stood at the sink washing a mug. She placed it upside down on a drain rack and turned to Abby. “I’m going to run to the grocery store. You’re out of bread, and the milk is low. Do you need anything else?”
Abby shook her head. “You don’t have to bother.”
“It’s no trouble.” Brooke grabbed her purse from the counter. “You don’t have a car, remember? And I was going to come back and check on you again later anyway. You don’t think I would just drop and leave you alone with a concussion?”
“Thanks, but—” Abby protested.
“No buts.” Brooke fished her keys from her bag. “Call me on my cell if you need anything.”
“All right. Thank you.”
“That’s what friends are for.” Brooke’s eyes darted back and forth between Abby and the cop. “Bye, Ethan.”
Ethan waited for the sound of Brooke closing the front door behind her.
Uh-oh. They were alone.
Abby stood in the middle of her kitchen floor and studied her thick socks. Ethan had checked her police records this morning. Before moving to Pennsylvania a little over two years ago, Abby had lived and taught high school in a middle-class suburb in southern New Jersey. She’d never received as much as a parking ticket. She was thirty years old but looked as lost and vulnerable as a child.
Her eyes lifted to his. Hers were full of uncertainty. “Do you want some coffee?”
“Sure.” Ethan took off his coat and hung it on the back of a chair. He stuffed his knit hat in his sleeve.
“I can’t seem to get warm.” She pulled a mug from the overhead cabinet.
“Me either.”
The dog settled at Abby’s feet, but his attention was on Ethan. “I’ve never seen a dog that big.”
“I didn’t know how big he was going to be when I adopted him from the pound. The woman who worked there was a little misleading with her estimate of Zeus’s age and size.” Abby poured coffee.
A wry smile softened her face. Their gazes met, the brown of her eyes warming. The heat that flared in Ethan’s body was significantly lower. She blinked in surprise. Yeah. Whoa. It was way too soon for that kind of reaction, and given the circumstances of his visit, inappropriate. What were they talking about? The dog. That was it. Thank
The front door opened directly into the living room. He wiped his feet on the doormat before stepping on the gleaming hardwood floor. The walls were painted a soft yellow, set off with bright white trim. A worn sofa and chair faced the fireplace and small flat-screen TV. Stairs against the living room wall led upstairs. “And I’m glad to see you have a big dog.”
“Zeus is better than any alarm. There is no security system in the world that will tell me if someone is standing on the sidewalk thinking about breaking into my house.”
“An alarm system still wouldn’t hurt. Security is all about layers.” Ethan followed her through the dining room, checking out a few pictures on a sideboard as he passed. Abby with Brooke and the track team at a big celebration. Several photos of Abby at various ages with a blonde woman who had to be her mother. She looked to be a generation older, with the same delicate features but with a hard edge to the set of her mouth that said her life had been a disappointment. “Dogs can be poisoned or shot.”
Abby’s face paled, and he regretted his last comment.
“Not that it happens often,” he said. “Dogs are a good deterrent for the average criminal.”
The house was built shotgun style. Rooms were stacked one behind the other, with just an archway in between. The second story would be slightly larger as it extended over the garage. She led him into a tiny square kitchen. A table for two was nestled under the window. One empty mug sat on a yellow placemat. Yellow curtains framed a view of a yard fenced with chain-link.
“Good morning, Ethan.” Brooke stood at the sink washing a mug. She placed it upside down on a drain rack and turned to Abby. “I’m going to run to the grocery store. You’re out of bread, and the milk is low. Do you need anything else?”
Abby shook her head. “You don’t have to bother.”
“It’s no trouble.” Brooke grabbed her purse from the counter. “You don’t have a car, remember? And I was going to come back and check on you again later anyway. You don’t think I would just drop and leave you alone with a concussion?”
“Thanks, but—” Abby protested.
“No buts.” Brooke fished her keys from her bag. “Call me on my cell if you need anything.”
“All right. Thank you.”
“That’s what friends are for.” Brooke’s eyes darted back and forth between Abby and the cop. “Bye, Ethan.”
Ethan waited for the sound of Brooke closing the front door behind her.
Uh-oh. They were alone.
Abby stood in the middle of her kitchen floor and studied her thick socks. Ethan had checked her police records this morning. Before moving to Pennsylvania a little over two years ago, Abby had lived and taught high school in a middle-class suburb in southern New Jersey. She’d never received as much as a parking ticket. She was thirty years old but looked as lost and vulnerable as a child.
Her eyes lifted to his. Hers were full of uncertainty. “Do you want some coffee?”
“Sure.” Ethan took off his coat and hung it on the back of a chair. He stuffed his knit hat in his sleeve.
“I can’t seem to get warm.” She pulled a mug from the overhead cabinet.
“Me either.”
The dog settled at Abby’s feet, but his attention was on Ethan. “I’ve never seen a dog that big.”
“I didn’t know how big he was going to be when I adopted him from the pound. The woman who worked there was a little misleading with her estimate of Zeus’s age and size.” Abby poured coffee.
A wry smile softened her face. Their gazes met, the brown of her eyes warming. The heat that flared in Ethan’s body was significantly lower. She blinked in surprise. Yeah. Whoa. It was way too soon for that kind of reaction, and given the circumstances of his visit, inappropriate. What were they talking about? The dog. That was it. Thank
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