Copper Lake Confidential - By Marilyn Pappano Page 0,57

obscure any sound Clary might make. Any sound an intruder might make.

She gazed up the stairs, and Stephen must have caught it. “On the patio. Right by the door. Okay?”

Her smile came automatically, filled with gratitude for his understanding. “I’ll meet you there.”

Chapter 9

Bedtime was running twenty-one minutes and counting. Yes, Stephen was timing it. Though normally patience was one of his virtues, he didn’t have much of it at the moment, but not in a bad way. It was anticipation, really, rather than impatience. He wanted to see Macy. Wanted to spend more time alone with her. Wanted to touch her.

He really wanted to kiss her.

He thought back to his first kiss ever. Seventeen years old, high school graduation. He’d been what his mother called a late bloomer. Totally clueless about style and most everything else, thick black-framed glasses, more interested in books than people, all his friends high IQs and low human-interaction skills.

The girl had been home from college for the summer, partying with the local kids, and in the instant before her mouth touched his, he couldn’t have cared less whether she kissed him. Ten seconds later, he’d discovered a new aspect of life, and he liked it.

Kissing Macy was like that, only a whole lot better.

Vaguely wondering if he should be worried about just how much better it was, he heard the back door click. Macy came out, wearing something fluttery and white, and seemed to float above the flagstone, ethereal, graceful. When she joined him on the sofa, he caught a couple of sweet fragrances. Baby lotion and...bubble gum?

She handed him a bottle of water, then sat down and uncapped hers. “Do you know how many times a three-year-old can repeat, ‘I don’t wanna go to bed’?”

“I would imagine endlessly.”

“She usually goes to bed much more easily. Tonight we let her stay up past her bedtime and loaded her up with ice cream. She was overtired and overexcited.”

“Everyone should get overexcited at least once a week.”

The words made Macy laugh, a sweet soft sound. Stephen thought she should laugh every day, not the restrained sort just now, but an all-out, bring-tears-to-her-eyes laugh. He blamed the fact that she didn’t on Mark. Dead eighteen months, and still affecting every moment of her life.

And, now, his.

“How much longer do you think it’ll take to finish up here?” he asked somewhat hesitantly. How much longer could he walk down the street and see her? How many days to feel this attraction, this sense of something? How many days to find out whether anything could come from it?

She was hesitant, as well. “I don’t know. Maybe a week. Once I’ve sorted through everything, the lawyer can take care of the pickups by the antiques dealers. I’ll put the stuff I’m keeping in storage, plus the family stuff for Clary, and then she and I will...”

Will leave. Will move on. Will start over. Without you. Stephen gave her a sidelong look. “You and Clary will...?”

She breathed deeply. “Find a place to live.”

“And you’ve definitely ruled out Copper Lake.” He tried not to sound disappointed. She’d told him from the start that she wasn’t staying here. Hell, there was no guarantee that he would stay here.

Though when he imagined his perfect life, the practice looked a lot like Dr. Yates’s, the town looked a lot like Copper Lake and the people in the background looked a lot like his friends here.

This time her breath was more a sigh. “There are bad memories.”

Setting his water on the sofa arm, he took her hand, her skin warm and dry against the cool dampness of his. “So replace them with good memories.”

“Like it’s that simple?”

He stroked his thumb over her palm. “I’ve never had any really bad memories. Yeah, it was upsetting when Mom and Dad divorced, and the first couple of moves threw things out of balance for a while. By the time Sloan and I realized we were headed for divorce, we were already out of love, so the disappointment that our marriage had failed was overshadowed by the fact that we were glad it was over. So I’m not one to give advice.”

“But you’re going to do it anyway.” Her tone was level, even mildly amused.

“As I understand it, you don’t dislike the town. You were happy here right up until the end. You had friends. You were involved in activities. Your brother visited, and you saw your parents regularly. You were pretty content with your life.” He paused for her