And now she was nervous. Her own hands were knotting and unknotting in front of her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her breath was coming swiftly now.
He delivered the words with slow, deliberate ruthlessness. “Rebecca might be towering over Hellcat Canyon out on the highway. But if you run away now, that means your ex-husband is still towering over your whole damn life. And how can I compete with a dead man?”
Her mouth dropped open. She made an arid little sound. And then:
“Howdare...”
She didn’t finish that sentence.
He couldn’t seem to stop the words. “If you love being afraid more than you like being with me, then fine. Be afraid. Just don’tlieabout it. You might as well get it over with and just run, because I know that’s what you’re dying to do right now. Just go.”
Her face blanked in shock. “Yousonof a—”
She pivoted. She took two steps.
“Britt—damnit—I didn’t—just—wait—”
But she was running now.
Her hair was a bright flash through the trees and then she was gone.
He watched, feeling like his heart was a bomb about to go off in his chest.
And then he shoved his hands through his hair. “ARRRGH!”
He stood there, hearing his own pain and frustration multiplied as an echo through the trees.
CHAPTER18
Finally he stalked back to his house. He froze in front of it.
He’d almost forgotten Rebecca was inside.
And then he sighed resignedly and climbed his own steps as if he were headed for the gallows.
Rebecca was standing in front of his open refrigerator, critiquing the contents, no doubt performing her usual complicated calorie calculus in her head: if she ate three peanuts on the plane, she could maybe have one grape and a slice of turkey, but then she would have to spend thirty minutes on the treadmill or eat nothing for dinner. That kind of math was more exhausting than those thirty minutes on the treadmill.
She didn’t turn around. “You’re really drinkingbeerthese days, John?”
She made it sound like,You’ve really been drinkinganti-freezethese days, John?
His long, black silence was such a presence it finally made her turn around. She slowly closed the refrigerator door carefully and pressed her back against it.
He could only imagine what she saw on his face, because her eyes went wary.
She studied him, clearly deciding on his approach.
“Oh, come on, Johnny,” she said softly, cajoling, teasing, placating. “She’s just a waitress. She can’t be thefirstwaitress you’ve had.”
She made it sound like he’d gone on a trip and forgotten his toothbrush, so he went out and got another one, just for the duration. Everyone was temporary. Rebecca was absolutely certainshewould always be the prize.
This was Rebecca’s way of being sophisticated.
He stared at her in amazement.
“Number One on John Tennessee McCord’s Top Ten Things He Doesn’t Miss about Rebecca Corday: hearing her use the wordjustto describe people.”