SLOW PLAY (7-Stud Club #4) - Christie Ridgway Page 0,68
overseas. Thoughts of him and the two of them together had traveled with her all over the world. Thank God she’d returned to Sawyer Beach and…and…
Learned that he remained as hot and sexy—and still a little bit starchy, it had to be admitted, though endearingly so—as she remembered.
“Can I be of any help, ladies?” a deep voice asked.
She swung around to see the man she’d never been able to forget approaching, wearing jeans, boots, and a shirt freshly ironed—yes, endearingly starchy. “Oh!”
“Did you forget you invited me to dinner?”
It’s possible she’d been OD’d on orgasms at the time. But yes, she recalled now that he was coming, though she had hoped to take a shower and put on a dress before he made an appearance. “It’s only four o’clock,” she pointed out.
“Shall I go home and come back?” He leaned close to kiss her cheek. “You said it was going to be a goodbye meal, right?”
“Right.”
His hand caught hers. “I need a lot of time to say goodbye.”
I need a lot of time to say goodbye. Her belly clenched at the idea of it. Tonight they were saying a final farewell. Accept it, Harper. Deal with it. Ignoring an inconvenient sting of tears, she directed him to distribute the remaining pumpkins around the field.
Then she directed him to wait downstairs while she took that shower and made the wardrobe change. When she came back down the steps lugging her bags, he hurried to take them from her hands and offered to stow them in her car himself.
“A truly imminent departure, I see,” he said on his way to the door.
Her heart squeezed so painfully, she couldn’t speak. Maybe that imminent departure was already too late, she thought as he strode outside. Yes, she was in love with him, but she’d held out hope that the damage wouldn’t go deeper than the skin. Just minor scrapes like those on her face, she’d consoled herself. Sure to heal in less than a week.
But this pain felt serious.
Rebecca Hill-level of pain. Unrequited love-rut level of pain. The kind of pain that scarred a person for life.
Mad found her in the kitchen where she was removing a chilled beer from the fridge. He sent it a pointed glance even as she removed the cap and brought it to her lips. Before the rim met her mouth, she pulled it away. “You want?”
“Nope. I think you should take a swig or more before I give you the bad news.”
Frowning, she handed him the beer. “What bad news?”
“Are you aware your license plates are missing?”
“My what?”
“Your Nevada car license plates. The one that belongs on the front as well as the one that belongs on the back.”
“Oh.” She tried thinking of the last time she’d seen them. Who noticed license plates? “What might have happened to them?”
“Could be anything.” He shrugged. “On your vehicle, maybe they just leaped off due to shame.”
She squinted at him.
“Or maybe they were stolen. That’s not uncommon.”
Her eyes widened. “Do you think that teenage crime syndicate…?”
He shrugged. “I can try asking. Though we didn’t find any plates in the house where they were squatting.”
“Oh, well.” Harper shrugged it off. “I’ll replace them when I get back to Vegas.”
“Of course you can,” Mad said, rubbing his jaw. “And you must. But you’ll need to bring with you an official Sawyer’s Beach police report when you report them stolen at the DMV.”
Her jaw dropped. “An official report?”
“It’ll take a couple of days, I’m afraid.”
“But—”
“Even if I expedite it, and I will.”
Harper grimaced. “Do I need license plates to drive? The car still works and everything.”
“Of course it still works. But you risk getting pulled over all the way from here to Las Vegas.”
“Ugh.” Four hundred miles and there were known stretches where you drove like an old lady or risked falling prey to speed traps. They’d be looking for license plates, for sure. “How much is the fine for driving plate-less?”
“I don’t know, babe. But if you can you wait a couple of days you won’t have to know.”
“Right.” She bit her lip. She couldn’t stay in Sawyer Beach forever, no matter how sweet the idea was sounding by the day, because she couldn’t stand to live so near to Mad and never really have him. “What should I do?”
“Take a couple of days.” He touched her hair. “In that time we’ll sort it all out.”
Mad hurried up the sidewalk toward his buddy Boone’s house, hoping he wouldn’t prove to be the final