The Bride Takes a Powder (3 page)

Axel grumbled, jerked himself away
from Mike at the door and walked out under his own steam. "Don't threaten
me, jerk," he slurred. "You're not the only place in town."

Mike shrugged. He didn't give a
crap if Davis ever came back. He could do without his business. Back inside, it
didn't appear the trouble had been noticed by other customers. That's the way
he liked to handle this kind of thing. Played down. Strolling over to Norah's
table, he took a seat. "Sorry about that. Are you okay?"

Her sharp gaze took him in, and she
didn't look grateful. "I could have gotten rid of him myself."

He cocked his head, giving her a
skeptical glance. "It's my job to stop trouble before it gets too far
gone. No one noticed, and it was over and done with quickly."

"Well, I didn't need you to
step in."

She obviously didn't know him, didn't
remember him at all.
Well, that kinda
sucks.
"I was just trying to help and, as I said, it's my bar and my
job."
Jeez, what a bitch.
"I
didn't do it for your gratitude." He placed both hands on the table and
levered himself up. She was a pain in the ass but still a customer. "I'll
send over a beer on the house."
Gorgeous
and hot apparently don't equal pleasant.

"Thanks, but I'm leaving."
She also rose, collecting her purse, and sliding it under her arm.

"I'll go outside with you to
make sure Axel isn't out there."

Her pale eyes darted to meet his. "You
don't need to."

He didn't think in college he'd
ever been this close to her. Those light eyes were amazing—mysterious,
otherworldly. Reeling in his wayward thoughts, he said, "This is a nice
town. We watch out for people. Where are you staying?" She didn't answer
him. "Listen, it's dark. Axel's drunk and mad. I just want to make sure
you get home okay. Okay?" Her gaze wavered from him to the door. She
nervously resettled her purse under her arm and then, for a long moment, looked
at him as if inspecting for vermin. He stared her down. There'd been more
action tonight than usual, and he was absolutely not in the mood for this crap.
He didn't know what was going on with her, but she was as cold and gorgeous as
he remembered.

It had been a few years since
college. He'd changed a lot from those days, so he didn't fault her for not
recognizing him. It took all his decent upbringing to not tell her she was
acting like an ungrateful ass. A hot-looking one but an ass.

Speaking of ass, hers was
spectacular, he noted, as he followed her out the door. The evening air went a
little way toward cooling his hot temper and burning face. This was not turning
out to be his night. First a cheating accusation, then a woman who seemed to
actively dislike him for no apparent reason. All he'd done was get rid of a
drunk for her.

"Which way are you going?"
Now that they stood outside next to each other, he realized how tall she
was—shorter than his six-two but not by much. Of course, even if she were
barefoot instead of wearing those high heels, she'd still be tall.
Hm. A barefoot Norah Ballard.
His cock
heated in arousal, thickening and pulsing against the placket of his khakis.
Just goes to show that a guy can be turned
on by a bitchy woman if her legs are long and she has a world class ass. And
her face is about the most beautiful I've ever seen. Fuck.
She stood right
in front of him, and he felt like a love-struck dolt.
Lust
-struck dolt.
And she has
no clue who I am. Just add that to my crappy night!

What
was my question?
She scraped her teeth over the corner of her lower lip, her
suddenly bewildered gaze roaming the street. The expressions crossing her face
fascinated him. It almost seemed she didn't know where she was. They stood
silently, shoulders almost touching, sheltered from the misting rain by the
overhanging roof at the doorway, for how long he couldn't be sure.

Surreptitiously staring at her
through lowered lashes, he finally remembered… "Where do you live?"
Yeah, that's what I asked.

Snapping a glance at him, she
seemed to come to her senses and pointed south on Route 20. "I'm just down
the street."

Not quite in his right mind either,
he forced a smile, very much wanting her to trust him. New to town, bothered by
that idiot Axel, of course she'd be wary of someone she thought was a stranger.
"The McMillan house? I'll watch you until you get to the porch."

"Goodness, Daddy," she
responded sarcastically.

That made him chuckle and before
she could say anything else, he said, "Go on with you, woman. By the way,
my name's Mike Banning. Welcome to Birchwood Falls."

She gave him a two-fingered salute,
marched down the street, up onto the porch, and inside the door without even
one look back. And she hadn't given him any sense she recognized his name.

Shaking his head, he turned back
inside the bar.
I wonder what's up with
her? What the hell is she doing here? She's definitely not Axel's style. Wasn't
yours years ago and certainly not yours now either.
Closing his eyes, he
took a deep breath which didn't help him make sense of the night. His emotions
had swung the gamut from happiness to shock with a dollop of sexual attraction
thrown in.

But with what Stu Pressman had told
him tonight, he had a bigger problem on the horizon than the gorgeous, prickly
Norah Ballard. But it rankled the hell out of him that she didn't recognize him.

***

Mike
Banning? From college?

Clothing damp from the light rain
and with hair flattened to her scalp, Norah climbed the stairs to her
apartment. She wished she could stomp on the wooden treads but didn't want to
disturb Jan. What a bunch of Neanderthals in this town! That guy, Axel. Drunk
asshole.
I could have handled him.

Banning had sported a big, warm
smile until that guy with the ponytail came in. Then his demeanor had changed
drastically. He'd gone from cheerful to stunned to angry. How bad could the
problem be that it couldn't be fixed with a plate of chocolate chip cookies?
Small town values and all that.

She remembered his name, but he
didn't look the same. As an undergrad, he'd been tall, skinny, and a bit shaggy
looking. Boy, had he changed. And for the better. He really was a good-looking
guy. His dark hair, now stylishly cut, had gleamed in the overhead light. His
facial features had lost their teenage boy look and had sharpened into lean
lines and strong angles.

Mike Banning was a simple name for
a man who hadn't seemed to be having a simple night. He'd gone through every
emotion from happiness at being home from school to stunned at what looked like
bad news. Then he'd become Super Protector and hustled Axel the jerk out. And
all she'd done was bitch at him.

He'd just wanted to make sure she
got home safely, and she'd treated him terribly. "Sorry, Mike," she
murmured. "I'll apologize tomorrow."

She brushed her teeth and prepared
to spend the second night of her honeymoon alone. The bed in the apartment was
comfortable, but she restlessly punched the pillow and wished she had something
to read. It had been years since a novel had been her bedtime companion. A
bookstore was connected to the coffee house where she'd had breakfast that
morning. She'd only been here one day? Yesterday—her wedding day—seemed years
ago. Well anyway, she promised herself a trip to the bookstore tomorrow.

Tossing and turning, she wondered
if there was a chance in hell she'd ever fall…

***

Morning and she woke suddenly, her
heart fluttering in a panic.
Where am I?
The room wasn't familiar. Then she recalled what had happened. She'd always
thought she was in control of her life, and it wasn't like her to run away from
a problem. Gazing at the ceiling, she let that thought wash over her. On one
hand, she wasn't married now to an asshole. She didn't have to go to work. As
her pulse calmed, the rising sun streaming in the window lightened her mood. On
the other hand, she had nothing to do. She was free.

Then, as if sharp talons tore
through her stomach, she remembered. The doctor. She was scared. What if
Garrett had given her something? It would be a cold day in July when she'd
trust another man again, let alone have sex. Expelling the breath she'd been
holding, she slid to the side of the bed and sat up.
You won't know anything until you know so get up, get dressed, and
think about something else for now.

Dressed in jeans and a sweater, she
perched on the seat of the bay window in the living room, luxuriating in the
warmth of the early morning sun and her first cup of coffee. Used to rushing
out the door to the gym then to work, she couldn't remember the last time she'd
just sat with coffee in the morning. It felt pretty weird to have this quiet.
Staring out at the waking town, at one or two cars already on the highway in
front of her house, at the river flowing through the town, she breathed deeply,
absorbing the peace.

Her phone beeped. Garrett was
texting her with a demand to know where she was. He certainly wasn't apologizing
for his behavior. She tossed her phone onto the couch and had no intention of
responding to him.

She gazed out the window again, the
picture of Super Protector Banning shimmering in her mind. He'd become such a
hunk, and she'd almost wanted to run her fingers through his dark hair. Kind of
long for a teacher.
Damn.
Why was she
thinking about him this way? Surely it was all a result of the jumble of things
she'd gone through in the last forty-eight hours. The confusion, the
uncertainty. Two things she wasn't used to feeling.

The scene outside was pretty this
morning. There'd been so much rain—pouring, misting, sprinkling—in the last few
days. Trees and flowering bushes budded and had begun filling out with fresh,
soft-green leaves. It was still cool in the morning, but she cracked the window
open a bit for fresh air. Jan had left the local newspaper on the landing, and
it probably wouldn't take long to look through. A quiet small town. What could
be bad here?

Unfolding it, she gaped at the
headline.

Local Teachers Cheating on Tests

The story described a cheating
scandal with teachers and administrators changing or adding answers on
standardized tests. Naturally enough she didn't recognize any of the names
except one. Michael Banning. Mr. Do-good? She'd believed she was a good judge
of character and a natural skeptic, which was good for a lawyer. But she'd just
had her life upended by a faithless scumbag fiancé. Could Mike have fooled her
too?

She wasn't a criminal lawyer, but
even in corporate work she counted on her instincts to determine truth or not.
Obviously her instincts had failed her with Garrett. He'd have undoubtedly
motioned for a waiter or maître d' to remove a drunken bully. But Banning
handled it. Chivalrously. Then made sure she got home safely. She cracked a
smile. For some reason, that thought made her feel nurtured.
Yes, you need to apologize to him.

Glancing at the clock over the
kitchen sink, she noticed it was time for the doctor's appointment. The office
was about two and a half blocks from the McMillan House, close enough to walk
although there didn't seem to be any taxis in town anyway. Swallowing down her
nerves, she swore if she even let another man near her, condoms would be the
major piece of sexual equipment.
Damn
Garrett to hell and back.

Thirty minutes later, she'd talked
to the doctor, had blood drawn, and was on her way. The results wouldn't be
available for three days, and the doctor recommended putting the problem out of
her mind until she knew the outcome for sure.
Oh great. I have the weekend to stew.

Chapter Three

Norah strolled down Marion Parkway
toward the center of town. The almost constant rain had stopped. Lifting her
face, she blinked at the sparkling flashes of sun filtering through the leafy
canopy above. Venerable long-enduring trees planted on both sides of the street
and in the center divider created a sheltering vault of green overhead.

In the crisp spring breeze, she
felt a measure of unexpected peace. Maybe she could or should take the fresh,
beautiful glow of the world around her at this moment as an omen she'd be okay
after all this. Standing motionless in the middle of the sidewalk, could she
enjoy not doing anything? Just being? It would be a new experience for her.

But she'd never
not
had complete control over herself
and her surroundings. Her future with Garrett had been part of that control. At
least that had been her plan. Anxiety clutched at her stomach. She'd escaped a
disastrous marriage and prayed she'd also escaped the repercussions of Garrett's
actions and would have a clean bill of health.

The man—the person? She didn't miss
him. Not one little bit. At that thought, she put a little skip in her step and
headed on toward the town center—toward the coffee house and its connected
bookstore. How long had it been since she'd had free time enough to read a
novel? The most she did these days was leaf through a magazine at the beauty
salon while her highlights set. She'd always had to keep up with the latest
cases and continuing education courses. Now the bookstore was drawing her
inside. She'd never wanted to read a novel more than she did right that minute.

Inside Java Joe's Books, Etc. she
smiled at the sight of large rectangular tables piled with current releases and
others with older books—fiction, non-fiction, biographies. There was a moment
of concern that there were too many choices, but she let that worry float away.
She had all the time in the world to relax and read. Good Lord, could that be
true? Everything had been prepared and organized and arranged at the office.
All her cases were being handled by others. All her clients knew she'd be out
of the office but would be in touch occasionally. No trials were scheduled.
Aware she hadn't called her secretary, she decided to do it later this evening
after hours so she could leave a voice mail. She didn't want to talk to anyone.
But for now, she truly had nothing to do.