into the arms of a complete stranger, and he made her feel things she’d never felt before, from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head.
Tanyalee took a deep breath of the mountain air, but she couldn’t shake the memory of being in that bed, on her back, smiling at Dante, their eyes locked in absolute certainty. She’d never felt anything so powerful in her life. It had been so pure. So simple. So unbearably intense. Everything stopped in that instant, and everything changed.
And as Tanyalee spun on the dock to throw herself at Dante Cabrera once more, she comforted herself with a thought: Well, at least he’s not a stranger this time!
“Whoa! What—”
Tanyalee jumped into Dante’s arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. Her mouth was on his before he could finish his question, and his hands immediately clamped onto her butt.
“Wait.” He wrested his lips from hers, staggering backward on the dock. “Hold up, Taffy. Oh, shit.”
The next thing she knew, Dante was falling backward through space, taking one of the Adirondack chairs with him. Tanyalee took a breath of air and pressed her lips against his once more, figuring she’d need the oxygen when they hit the water.
She knew she was about to get soaking wet. Her hair would be ruined. She might even lose her favorite sandals.
And she didn’t care.
Chapter 9
“Lord-a-mercy, Taffy Marie!”
Vivienne Newberry’s hand flew to her mouth in shock. For a long moment, the pudgy old lady in pink said nothing, her eyes taking in the wet mess on her front porch.
Dante wasn’t clear on the protocol for this type of situation. “Hello, Miss Newberry,” he said, the leather of his shoes squelching as he shifted his weight uncomfortably.
A voice bellowed from inside the house. “What the Sam Hill is the matter, Vivienne? Honestly, woman, you make such a production about the most trivial little—” A lanky old man poked his head through the front door and his mouth fell open. “Goddamn!” He whacked a rolled-up newspaper against his thigh and bent over laughing.
Vivienne sighed, then smacked the arm of the man Dante figured was her brother, Garland Newberry. “Stop it now,” she scolded. “This is not funny. They could catch their death. Now, go get an armful of those old towels I keep on the cellar landing. They’re in a basket on the second shelf down from the—”
Garland Newberry cut her off. “I know where you keep the damn towels, Vivienne.” He walked off down the center hallway, his shoulders rising and falling as he continued to laugh.
“Sorry about this, Aunt Viv,” Tanyalee said.
“Oh, now, don’t you worry about a thing. We’ll get you inside and I’ll throw everything in the dryer and you’ll be good as new, but…” She craned her neck out the door and looked up at the sky. “It’s not raining.”
“Uh, we…” Tanyalee raised her eyes to Dante, clearly embarrassed. “We kind of fell into the lake.”
Vivienne jerked her head back in surprise, then her eyes went wide as she gave Dante the once-over once more, pausing for a second too long at his soaked dress shirt. “Oh, my goodness,” she breathed.
“It was an accident,” Dante added.
“Taffy Marie, where are your manners?” Vivienne demurely extended her hand toward Dante.
Tanyalee sighed audibly. “Aunt Viv, this is Dante Cabrera. He’s a DEA agent from Asheville. Dante, this is my great-aunt, Vivienne Newberry.”
“A pleasure, ma’am,” he said, squeezing her hand before letting it drop.
Vivienne cleared her throat and patted her chest as if overcome. “Oh, my, my, my,” she said, giggling. The laughter took twenty years off her face. “Now, I would be lying if I said I didn’t already know who you are, Mr. Cabrera, since I’ve spent the last hour on the phone with Gladys and she told me all about you two.” She corrected herself. “You,” she said, her attention shifting to Dante. “She told me about you, is what I meant to say. Not you two.”
“Oh, dear Lord,” Taffy whispered, rolling her eyes just as her grandfather reemerged from inside the house, a stack of towels in his arms and a grin still on his face.
“Here you are, son,” he said to Dante, handing him a few threadbare but neatly folded bath towels. “Name’s Garland Newberry.”
Dante shook the old man’s large hand, surprised by the strength in his grip. “Drug Enforcement Administration Special Agent Dante Cabrera, sir. I work out of the Asheville field office.”
“Well, whadya know? Pleasure, son.” The old guy smiled like he