Sunny Chandler's Return

“Or night?”

“Or night.”

“Are you sorry we didn’t sleep together?”

“No!” She took a step back.

“Sure about that?” he drawled. “I know my mood would have been greatly improved if we had. The atmosphere is oppressive. Barring a good, drenching rain, I think some raunchy sex would help clear the air.”

“Is that your cure for everything?”

“Not for everything.” He closed the distance between them. “But it sure as hell is for what’s ailing me.”

Fighting the magnetic pull of his eyes, Sunny turned away. “I had my mind on other things today.”

“Did you see Jenkins?”

Sunny was surprised by his harsh question. “Of course not. Why should I?”

“I thought that maybe after seeing each other last night, you two might be on again.”

“He’s married!”

“That doesn’t seem to matter these days.”

“It does to me.”

“According to gossip, Jenkins’s marital status is subject to change,” he said. “He might be free soon.”

“I don’t care. I still wouldn’t want—”

Sunny heard her spontaneous protest, but couldn’t believe she’d spoken it. Ty reacted by looming over her like a predatory animal about to pounce. His eyes zeroed in on her face. “You still wouldn’t want what, Sunny?”

“Thank heavens, they’re down for the night,” Fran said, as she and Steve made an untimely entrance into the kitchen.

Ty and Sunny sprang apart.

“Maybe the girls will let you sleep late in the morning.” Steve said, kissing Fran’s forehead.

Sunny tore her gaze away from Ty’s penetrating stare. Nervously she clasped her hands together in an effort to get a grip on herself. “I’ll see that they do. You stay in bed, Frannie, for as long as you can. I’ll fix their breakfast and try to keep them quiet.”

“You’re taking the word bridesmaid in the most literal sense,” Fran said, smiling her gratitude.

“It’s getting late,” Steve said, “and Ty can’t go home until I drive him back to his office for his car. So ...” He turned to Fran, a wistful expression on his face.

“Sunny, we haven’t carried your stuff in yet,” Ty said suddenly. “Remember you asked me to help you with it?”

Puzzled, she stared at him. His eyebrows were sliding up and down like an elevator that had run amok. “Oh,” she said, getting his drift. “Yes, I would appreciate your help, Ty. Excuse us a minute.”

She slipped through the screened back door. Ty followed closely on her heels. Both were shaking with suppressed laughter. “They needed a few minutes of privacy but were too polite to ask for it. Was I subtle enough?” he asked.

“Before I caught on, I wondered what in heaven’s name was the matter with your eyebrows.”

When they reached her car, she opened the rear d

oor and began transferring her belongings to his waiting hands. She had an overnight bag, the dress she was going to wear in the wedding, and a change of street clothes.

“Is that it?” he asked.