for thrust. His hands slid erotically down over the bumps in her spine, coming to rest on her hips where he pulled her against the hard contours of his thighs.
But when she tried to back him up against the railing and climb right up onto his hips, she hit a dark and forbidding wall. She found herself suddenly at arm’s length, looking up into his craggy face with its kiss-swollen lips. He looked dangerous and aroused. But his gaze was utterly sober.
“This is crazy,” he said. “We can’t do this. We have to think about Miriam and Todd, not to mention Bill and everyone else. And I’m supposed to stay away from women. I mean, it’s part of my recovery.”
Heat flowed up her cheeks. What on earth had she been thinking? This was Cousin Dash. Bad boy. Recovering alcoholic. A major-league screwup, quite literally.
“Uh. I’m sorry,” she muttered, then turned on her heel and ran like a raccoon with a hound on her tail.
CHAPTER 10
On Saturday morning, Savannah allowed Dash to take Todd with him up to Painted Corner Stables. She could hardly refuse, seeing as her son had expressed an interest in learning how to ride a horse.
It was the first time he’d ever expressed any interest in doing something physical. And hadn’t she brought him here for the fresh air?
She found herself thanking Dash again in the morning, but barely able to look him in the eye this time. Their kiss kept playing in her mind like a movie.
A really hot movie.
With Dash and Todd out of the way, Savannah took Aunt Miriam to town for a girl’s day out, with the notion of lulling her into complacency and then springing a trip to Doc Cooper’s on her. The doctor was in on the plan. He was well aware that Miriam hated doctor visits.
They brunched at the Kountry Kitchen where Miriam announced, quite loudly, that Savannah’s biscuits were ten times better than T-bone Carter’s. Thank goodness T-bone had a sense of humor.
He stuck his head out of the kitchen and said, “That’s all right, Miz Miriam. I don’t aim to marry no preacher.” He grinned and returned to his kitchen.
Everyone in the café turned and smiled at Savannah. A blue-haired lady in the next booth, whose name Savannah didn’t know, took that moment to say, “You keep cooking, honey. We’re all mighty glad you came to town. It’s not good for a minister to be without a wife.”
Heat ran up Savannah’s neck and face. Some of the little old ladies in Last Chance sounded just like Mrs. Bennet in Pride and Prejudice, who was single-minded in her attempts to match up her daughters with anyone wearing pants.
Right at the moment, Savannah felt a great deal like Lizzy Bennet, the book’s heroine, when the odious Reverend Collins comes to call. Lizzy’s mother was practically apoplectic when the heroine of the book told Reverend Collins where he could take his marriage proposal.
Savannah hoped against hope that Bill Ellis didn’t get any ideas about getting down on bended knee. She feared the entire over-sixty female population of Last Chance might just go into hysterics.
And then it occurred to her that if Bill Ellis was the Mr. Collins in her life, then who was Dash? Wickham, the villain? Or Darcy, the hero?
She flashed back to Dash’s kiss on the porch last night, and her temperature climbed into the stratosphere.
“Oh, honey, it’s so sweet the way you blush,” the lady at the next table said.
Savannah gave her a phony smile and then popped the last of her fried egg in her mouth. Boy, she didn’t have a whole lot of privacy in this town, did she?
“Can we stop by the yarn shop?” Miriam asked.
“Of course we can. I remember you used to knit all the time.”
Miriam sighed. “I’m afraid that was before my hands got so bad. I miss it. I like going in there and fondling the yarn, though.”
Fondling? Yarn? It really was a good thing Savannah was getting Miriam to the doctor’s for a checkup today.
She looked down at Miriam’s less-than-half-eaten bowl of oatmeal. “Well, finish up, then,” Savannah said, “and we can go.”
“Oh,” Miriam said on a long sigh, “I’m not that hungry.”
She hadn’t been very hungry for the last two weeks. Savannah tamped down on her concern.
A few minutes later, they strolled into The Knit & Stitch, a little shop located in an older brick building in the heart of the Palmetto Avenue business district. It had a bright