Hot to the Touch

No, no, she didn’t want to be swallowed up.

Yes, yes, she was in love with him, too.

Help.

“Really.” She was out of any other reaction. “Is that why you bought me glads?”

“No.” He looked amused. She wasn’t. “Would that scare you?”

Yes! “Why should it?”

“Because of what happened to us at Esmee.” He held up his hands, smiling reassuringly. “Calm down. I know it’s too soon to use words that strong.”

Calm down? Wasn’t she calm? She might not feel calm, but she hadn’t thrown any tantrums she was aware of. “Yes, it’s much too soon.”

“But who knows?” His dark eyes crinkled into that sexy smile. “Maybe someday we’ll look back…”

“Could be.” She fidgeted under his gaze, a mass of conflict and confusion. This was not what she wanted to be talking about. “Ready for your milkshake?”

“I’m sorry.” He leaned across the table to kiss her. “I didn’t mean to get all intense. And yes, I am always ready for a milkshake.”

“Good.” She shot up from the table and crossed to the freezer, feeling jumpy and prickly. Her cell rang; she glanced apologetically at Troy. “It might be the restaurant.”

He nodded, but she felt—or thought she felt—his displeasure at the interruption. She dug her phone out of her skirt pocket and checked the display. Brit, who rarely called. “It’s my sister.”

“It’s fine. Go ahead and take it.”

“Right.” She hadn’t asked for permission. “Hey, what’s going on, Brit?”

“Have you talked to Mom or Dad lately?”

“No…” She glanced uneasily at Troy. “Why?”

“Remember that painting Dad got after the divorce that Mom kept insisting should go to her?”

“Yes…” Darcy put a hand to her abdomen, anticipating that she was going to feel sick in about three seconds. One…two…yup.

“Dad got behind again on alimony and Mom went over to his place while he was at work and helped herself. He’s pressing charges.”

“Oh, no.” Darcy groaned and dropped her head into her hand. “When are they going to grow up?”

“You’re asking me? Rudy’s three and he has more sense than them.”

“What are we supposed to do?”

“I’m calling Dad and persuading him to drop the charges. You call Mom and tell her to give the damn painting back. Unless you’d rather do the opposite.”

“No.” She got up and started pacing. This was horrible. The absolute pits. And how humiliating that Troy got to witness their family’s dirty laundry in a nice big slovenly pile. “Dad deals better with you.”

“Sad but true.” Brit gave a long sigh. “So…how is everything going?”

Darcy laughed. “Until now?”

“Crap, I have to go, Rudy just got up. Call Mom tomorrow, then call me, would you?”

“Yeah. Okay.” She ended the call, smacked the phone down on the counter.

“What’s up?” He sounded wary. She didn’t blame him.

“My charming parents.” She yanked open the freezer, pulled out the superpremium natural vanilla and thumped it on the counter next to the blender she’d set up earlier. “Mom stole something valuable from Dad because he owes her money. He’s pressing charges. Brit wants me to call Mom and convince her to return the painting.”

“Why is that your job?”

She scooped up a ball of ice cream and flung it into the blender. “Someone has to rescue them from themselves.”

“No. They own the problem.”

Darcy turned to look at him, scoop raised in her right hand. “Excuse me?”

“Their problem.” He set his jaw grimly, eyes hard. “Not your sister’s and not yours.”

“Okay. But…” She felt herself getting slightly hysterical and fought to keep it under control. What the hell did he know about her family dynamic? “Don’t you think if we can keep them from making a stupid mistake, we should?”

“No, I don’t. Not at all.” He stared straight at her, as if he were trying to change her mind with the power of his gaze. “It might sound harsh, but I’m right in this one, Darcy.”