Isabelle tugged at Gideon’s shirt. “I’m sorry you have to work and can’t see the movie with us, Gideon.”

“Maybe some other time,” he replied, patting her head. “You have fun with Miss Corley, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll take good care of her,” she added, looking meaningfully toward the crutches.

Gideon chuckled. “You do that.”

Standing on the walkway that led to the ticket window, Adrienne watched as he climbed back into his truck with an easy, masculine grace that made her mouth go dry. She was still watching when he drove out of the parking lot.

“Miss Corley? Aren’t we going in?”

Roused by Isabelle’s prodding, Adrienne turned toward the ticket window. “Of course we’re going in. We’ll have a lovely time.”

But something told her she would spend the next couple hours thinking of Gideon rather than the animated feature on the movie screen.

As Gideon had wanted for the past week, he returned to a completely empty house. He noticed the silence as soon as he walked in, which was odd, since Adrienne and Isabelle really didn’t make that much noise.

Moving straight to his office, he settled in front of his computer and set a timer he kept on his desk for occasions when he dove into his work and worried about time slipping away from him. It wouldn’t be entirely uncharacteristic for him to concentrate so fiercely on his writing that five or six hours would slip away before he knew it.

Th

at would not have been the case today.

Just as having someone in his house had interfered with his concentration a few days earlier, now the emptiness seemed to press in on him. It kept drawing him out of his story, making him look at the clock to see if it was time to leave for the mall.

It seemed he always had an excuse not to write these days. He was beginning to wonder if there was more going on here. Was the book so flawed that subconsciously he was trying to sabotage it? He didn’t know how far Adrienne had gotten last night; Isabelle had kept them so busy today they hadn’t had a chance to discuss work.

Pounding his fist against his knee, he gave a low growl of frustration. What the hell was wrong with this book? Everything had been going smoothly, right on schedule, for the first three hundred pages, and then he’d seemed to crash facefirst into some sort of creative brick wall. He’d written some sixty pages since, but he still wasn’t completely satisfied with them. He hated to think he’d have to struggle this hard with the final hundred pages, and, at this rate, heaven only knew when he would get the damned thing finished.

Maybe once Adrienne assured him there was nothing wrong with the story to the point he’d printed out so far, he would be able to proceed more confidently.

He forced himself to wait until the last minute to leave for town. Adrienne and Isabelle were probably enjoying their time together, and he didn’t want to appear too eager to be reunited with them. He saved his file—he’d written all of three pages and they weren’t very good—and headed for the door, moving a bit too quickly for a man who was reluctant to have his treasured privacy invaded again.

The ice cream parlor was fairly crowded for a Thursday afternoon, but Gideon quickly spotted Adrienne and Isabelle. They sat at a tiny round table flanked by four prissy little chairs, and both of them were smiling.

At Officer Dylan Smith.

“What is it with you, Smith?” he demanded in exasperation, planting his fists on his hips as he loomed beside the table. “Every time I turn around these days, I find you there.”

Obviously off-duty, dressed in jeans and a gray-checked cotton shirt worn unbuttoned over a gray T-shirt, Dylan lounged in one of the little chairs with the ease of a man who felt entirely assured of his welcome. His gray eyes gleamed with his usual mocking humor when he looked up at Gideon. “You’re just lucky, I guess. Or I am, to keep running into these two lovely ladies.”

Isabelle giggled. “Officer Smith likes ice cream as much as I do, Gideon. His favorite flavor is butter pecan and I told him I don’t like it, but he said that’s okay, it’s still his favorite.”

She was talking again, at least. Too bad it was about Dylan.

Adrienne motioned him toward the empty chair. “Join us, Gideon. Would you like some ice cream?”

“No.” After a momentary hesitation, he dropped into the chair. What else could he do, just stand there watching the three of them eat ice cream and admire each other? Crossing his arms over his chest, he glared at Dylan, all too aware that the four of them were a subject of interest for quite a few of the other patrons.

Adrienne looked at him in exasperation. “Loosen up, will you?” she admonished him quietly. “We’ve been having a very nice visit.”

“Until I came along to ruin it, you mean?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“The movie was good, Gideon,” Isabelle told him, her face beaming behind several smudges of chocolate ice cream. “You should have seen it.”

Studying her smile, he decided the outing had done wonders for her. Adrienne’s idea had obviously been a good one. Maybe now she would forget whatever toddler grievance had upset her yesterday, and she would be content to return to school tomorrow. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Tags: Gina Wilkins The McClouds of Mississippi Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net