Scarlet Nights (Edilean 3)

“Right,” Luke said in sarcasm. “This from a man who cools down on a trampoline.” He looked at the two women. “You should see what this guy does in the gym. I swear half the people there stopped their own workouts just to watch him.”

From there they went to talking about Merlin’s Farm. As Sara spoke of seeing the inside of the old house, Mike marveled at the rapture in her voice. He’d never thought about loving an inanimate object as she seemed to care for that place. But then, he thought Sara would probably say he loved his car that much. She’d already teased him for keeping it so clean, but he saw nothing wrong with daily washing and vacuuming, and people really shouldn’t eat inside a car. And what was wrong with keeping the tires oiled?

“Then Mr. Lang returned and ruined it all,” she finished with a quick glance at Mike.

She’d left out the part where she and Mike had sat in a tree, snuggled together like baby birds in a nest.

After they’d finished eating, Sara and Luke went to the kitchen, while Mike sat on a chair beside Joce and went through her genealogy charts. They were incredibly detailed, and he told her what a great job she was doing.

“Sara likes you,” Joce said quietly. “And you’re pulling her away from that horrible Greg.”

“You’re one of the people who doesn’t like him?”

“He works to make everyone feel bad. Unless you have money. He fawns over the women who go to the shop.” She leaned closer to Mike and lowered her voice. “If you can stop the wedding—”

Mike picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Really?” Joce’s eyes widened. “I thought your concern was catching the bad guys.”

“It’s all part of it. Say nothing to Sara.”

Joce looked at him with gratitude in her eyes.

“Are you making a pass at my wife?” Luke asked from the doorway.

“He couldn’t control his lust.” Joce put her hands on her big belly.

“I understand and I forgive,” Luke said. “So who

wants some cake?”

“How many pounds of it am I allowed?” Joce asked, and they all laughed.

So now, it was early morning, and Mike was about to leave for the gym, but Sara’s voice stopped him. He went to her bedroom door and opened it. She was sitting in bed wearing a white nightgown that looked like something from a BBC production.

“Off to the gym?” she asked.

“Want to go with me?”

Sara grimaced. “So what’s on for today?”

He stepped into the room. “I thought I’d help with the building for the fair today.”

“Do you know how to do that?”

“I learned some about construction on one of my first cases.” She was gazing at him with wide eyes, as though his stories were truly exciting; it was an irresistible look. “I went undercover to find out about some contractor who was taking kickbacks from manufacturers. His buildings tended to collapse on top of people.”

“Did you have an affair with his wife?”

“No,” he said solemnly. “I did not.” His eyes began to sparkle. “It was with his twenty-two-year-old daughter. She taught me a thing or two. Wait! That was the case where I beat up half a dozen men at once and saved the girl. She was twelve, I think. Or was that the time—?”

Sara laughed. “You’d better go. I doubt if they can open the gym without you there.”

“They manage. What do you plan to do today?”

“Oh, this and that.”

“You aren’t going to glue yourself to a sewing machine, are you? I told Erica to get someone else to do all that, that you’re a boss, not a wage slave.”