Deep Dish by Andrews Mary Kay

Author:Andrews, Mary Kay [Andrews, Mary Kay]
Format: mobi
Published: 2010-03-27T12:09:14+00:00

Chapter 39

he air in her room was as hot and sticky as a tar-paper

T roof. Gina couldn’t breathe, let alone sleep. She kicked the

sheets off her clammy skin and stood in front of the little

fan, letting it billow the folds of her cotton nightgown. She glanced

over at the clock on the nightstand. It was only midnight, but she had

to be in the makeup room at seven in the morning. How was she ever

going to get some sleep in this toaster oven of a bedroom?

Lisa’s bed, of course, was empty. Should she worry about her

sister, out this late on an island in the middle of nowhere with a man

she hardly knew? Hah! Zeke was the one she should worry about.

Lisa Foxton could hold her own, anywhere, anytime.

She heard hushed voices drifting in from the window. Shamelessly, she stepped over and peeked out.

Moonlight spilled over the grassy area in front of the inn. Lisa

and Zeke stood there, her head resting on his shoulder. Gina smiled

despite herself. It was so sweet, the way he wrapped his arms around

her waist, nuzzled her neck.

She felt sad. Sad for herself, that all the sweetness had gone so

quickly from her own romance, replaced by bitterness and resentment.

She should quit spying, should go to bed and get some sleep. If

her personal life was in ruins, at least she could now concentrate, exclusively, on getting what she wanted professionally.

And she would do that, she promised herself, but right now, the only

breeze entering the room was coming from this window. A moment

later, when she peeked out again, the lovers had disappeared.

Deep Dish

)197

She saw a slight movement at the edge of the small clearing that

served as the lawn, and held her breath as a doe stepped daintily into

the pool of light near the porch. Slowly, two small fawns joined their

mother. They nibbled at the grass, and the moonlight shone on their

dappled brown and white backs.

A moment later, the doe raised her head, startled by something.

And as quickly as she’d come, she was gone, bounding into the darkness, the fawns springing away right behind her.

As Gina watched, a man emerged from the darkness of the porch.

He was holding a huge flashlight in one hand and a baseball bat in

the other. A white dog with brown freckles and a distinctive feathered tail dutifully followed in his wake. The bill of his cap shaded the

man’s face, but Gina knew the dog and its owner.

Tate Moody. He glanced around, then limped painfully to the

golf cart he’d parked earlier in the evening.

The dog stood motionless on the same spot where the deer had

stood earlier, his muzzle quivering, his tail up, in a perfect point.

“Moonpie,” Tate called. “Come! Come on, boy!”

The dog turned, looked at his master, then longingly into the

darkness where the deer had vanished. But he padded over to the cart

and jumped up into the passenger seat. Within seconds the two were

zipping off, down the path, into that same darkness.

She heard footsteps outside the hallway. Lisa. She scampered back

to bed, forcing herself to play possum as her baby sister crept inside

and began hurriedly undressing.

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