Flirting with Disaster (Jackson: Girls' Night Out 2)

She finally heard the low rumble of an engine and the grind of tires against snow. Not inclined to be reckless, she watched carefully through the blinds as headlights approached up her driveway. She’d never gotten around to plowing, unwilling to help that FBI guy get to her any faster, but the SUV approached steadily, if slowly, over the mounds of snow.

It pulled close to the walk, but it was still too dark to see inside. She moved to turn on the porch light, but then hesitated. If it was that FBI agent, she’d pretend she wasn’t home. Turning on the porch light would give her away.

After what seemed like an eternity, the interior light of the SUV finally came on, and Isabelle watched as Mary got out of the passenger side and came around the back just as Tom opened the driver’s-side door.

Isabelle laughed as she shoved her feet into boots, turned on the porch light and rushed outside. “Congratulations!”

They both looked strangely subdued when they turned toward her. “Thank you,” Tom said, but Mary just stared. Isabelle still wasn’t sure what Mary’s feelings were, but if Tom said they’d never been intimate, she’d have to take him at his word.

“You two had a damn good day,” Isabelle said.

Tom finally smiled. “That we did.”

“Is it over?”

“Nothing is certain, but there’s no evidence that there was a backup plan.”

Isabelle crossed her arms as the wind caught her. “A rocket launcher, huh?”

Tom laughed. “That’s a new one.”

“Well, it was a productive day all around, then. I didn’t catch even one domestic terrorist, but I did finish my last painting. The commission is done.”

Tom’s eyebrows rose. “If I’m happy for you, that doesn’t mean I have to look, does it?”

Isabelle was laughing when another voice rang in the dark. “Good thing I brought champagne!” Jill called. “Sounds like we have a lot to celebrate.”

Isabelle was so chagrined at having company that she almost missed the way Mary’s eyes went wide. “It’s just Jill,” she said in reassurance, but Mary didn’t seem less disturbed. And when Jill came around the side of the SUV, her eyes went wide, too. She froze in the act of holding up a bottle of champagne in one hand and a cake pan in the other.

Well, that was interesting. And there was cake.

“I’m sorry,” Jill said, frozen in the glow of the truck’s headlights. “I just wanted to say congratulations to Tom. And to you, of c-course,” she stammered.

Very interesting. Jill never stammered.

“Come in,” Isabelle said, waving everyone toward the stairs before the wind froze her solid.

“I’ve got to go,” Mary said flatly.

“Me, too,” said Jill.

“Oh, come on,” Tom scoffed. He reached past Mary to turn off the truck. “Jill, you brought champagne, and Mary, you earned it. Get inside.”

Jill headed up the steps with Isabelle. Mary cleared her throat and didn’t move until Tom closed the truck door. She followed him up the walk.

“I’ll get glasses,” Isabelle said quickly, hoping to move it along. She had only wineglasses, but no one complained as Jill popped open the bottle and began to pour. No one said anything at all, in fact. Jill set the bottle down, muttered something about plates and rushed toward the kitchen before Isabelle could get there.

“What’s going on with you?” Isabelle whispered as soon as she caught up.

“She drove by my house this morning,” Jill answered.

“So?”

“So, my guest was leaving.”

“Oh.” Isabelle cringed. “It’s okay. You’ll never see her again once she leaves the judge’s house. What’s the big deal?”

Jill groaned. “I think she’s cute. And it was the worst possible moment I could’ve seen her.”