Copper Lake Confidential - By Marilyn Pappano Page 0,30

she would go out with and vice versa.

He had a date for that party, too. Remembering that was enough to take the edge off his pleasure in this night. Kiki Isaacs was about as far from his type as was possible while staying within the same species. Call him crazy, but he didn’t date women who could break him in half, who carried a gun and who certainly had bigger balls than he did.

Too bad he hadn’t somehow weaseled out of Marnie’s request. He’d known Macy two days and had spent both evenings with her, and she’d invited him over for dinner tomorrow. Odds were pretty good that he could have spent Saturday evening with her, too, without a suit, a tie and worrying about his physical safety as well as his virtue.

Macy’s voice distracted him from dire thoughts of the future. “I’d like to meet her sometime.”

“Marnie? Yeah, she doesn’t do well with the living.”

“Neither do I sometimes. And truthfully, I wasn’t wild about birthday cake that someone had just blown little bits of ick over, either, not until Clary was born. Kids kind of desensitize you to all that germ stuff.”

He tried to imagine how mini-Macy looked. Blue eyes, brown hair, chubby cheeks, that toddler sense of wonder in everything? Or did she resemble her father more? When Macy looked at her, did she see the dead husband she didn’t love?

Then the obvious occurred to him. “Do you have a picture of her?”

The smile that beamed across her face was practically enough to light the night. “Of course I do.” Pulling out her cell, she scrolled to the photographs, then handed it over.

Yep, Clary Howard looked just like her mother, except for the chubby part. Macy didn’t carry a pound of extra weight, but Clary was nicely rounded in that adorable-little-girl sort of way. Her hair was the same shade as Macy’s, though finer, and she had the same serious air about her that Macy did.

The photo was taken on the beach, and Clary, crouching in the sand, wore a one-piece ruffled swimsuit that made her look like a pumpkin with legs. A floppy white hat framed her face, and her lower lip was poked out as she focused entirely on the seashell in her hand. She looked sweet as cotton candy and could undoubtedly be as hardheaded as granite.

“She’s a cutie.” Though he was tempted to see what other photos she kept, he handed the phone back without looking. “Three is a good age. Interested in everything, talking to everyone.”

“Interested, yes. Talking...nonstop with people she knows but a little shy with strangers.” Macy gazed at the photograph for a moment, tenderness easing across her features along with yearning. She was always pretty, but the combination made her stunning.

“It must be tough, being away from her even for a few days.”

“Yeah, but she’ll be here Friday.”

With Macy’s brother and sister-in-law, with whom she would do the things she’d done with him the past two days. So much for possibly spending Saturday evening with her. He might not see much of her after the family arrived.

Might not see her at all.

And though they hardly knew each other, he had no doubt that would be his loss.

“Well...”

Macy’s sigh floated on the air. Dinner was gone, dessert just a few crumbs on the plates and she’d long since paid the bill. Time to go home. He unhooked Scooter’s leash from the foot of his chair, stood and stretched, and the dog did the same.

“Thank you for going out to Fair Winds with me.”

“Thanks for dinner.” Their steps were muffled on the grass, then scuffed across concrete. “And for a look at how the other half live. Tell Clary she’s got excellent taste in inheritances.”

“You can tell her yourself.” Macy glanced both ways, though traffic was allowed only one way, then stepped off the curb. After shooting him a glance, she added to that. “That is, if you’re not ready to dump me and my needs into Brent’s lap and run.”

Warmth spread through him at the idea that he had a choice in the matter and, judging from Scooter’s happy look, it had transmitted down the leash. “I’m not ready to dump anything.”

Except the date with Kiki Isaacs, and he couldn’t go back on that. But he could hope for her to find someone else.

As they stepped into the shadows of the live oaks in the square, he thought he heard Macy murmur a firm “Good.”

* * *

“You’re sure about this?” Macy

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