Love Me Tomorrow by Cindy Kirk

Author:Cindy Kirk [Kirk, Cindy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Waverly House
Published: 2019-03-05T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

The sound of hail pelting the windowpane woke Marcee from a fitful sleep. Without opening her eyes, she pulled the thin quilt around her and snuggled deep into the pillow.

After leaving the picnic and returning home, Cam had grabbed his phone and gone straight to his room. Marcee had opened a bottle of wine and powered up her laptop. She’d worked until midnight on a friend’s taxes then headed to bed, trying not to think where Sam and Paula might be right now . . . and what they might be doing. Thankfully, the wine had relaxed her, and she’d fallen asleep immediately.

The ping of hail sounded at the window again, and Marcee groaned. Rolling out of bed, she swept her hair back from her face and stumbled to the second-story window that overlooked the backyard. Hopefully pulling the curtains shut would muffle the irritating sound. To her surprise, the night sky was clear, and a full moon shone brightly Not a storm cloud in sight.

Before she could process the inconsistency, a spray of rocks hit the window. She rolled her eyes. She’d had a couple of boyfriends in high school who’d used that trick to get her attention late at night. That had been fifteen years ago.

It was hard to believe that Camden’s friends had not only mistaken her bedroom for his but used such a low-tech way of contacting him. If they wanted her brother to come out and play, they should have sent him a text.

Marcee jerked open the window and leaned out “Haven’t you ever heard of a text—”

The words stuck in her throat when she saw a man—not a boy—standing in her yard, a handful of pebbles in one hand.

Sam smiled. “You have your phone off.”

She started to return his smile until the image of him walking across Ron’s yard with Paula in his arms flashed.

“Get out of my yard, or I’ll call the sheriff. I mean, I’ll call the deputy.”

Unfortunately, her tone lacked any real oomph, and consequently, Sam’s smile widened. “Good evening to you, too.”

Marcee steeled herself against the blatant charm wafting up on the night breeze. “What do you want?”

This time her tone came out irritable and abrupt.

His smile never wavered. Obviously, for a former Chicago detective, irritable and abrupt were expected responses.

“Meet me at the back door.” Mr. Confident didn’t wait for her answer. Before she could open her mouth, the determined cop was out of sight.

Marcee grabbed the silky robe that matched her emerald-green chemise. Leaving her feet bare, she hurried down the stairs. The minute she entered the kitchen, she saw Sam through the glass in the door. He wore the same jeans and shirt he’d had on earlier. She didn’t need a detective’s badge to realize he hadn’t been home yet.

She glanced at the clock over the stove. He’d left the party with Paula hours ago. She wondered how he’d spent the rest of the evening. Had he tucked Paula into bed?

Pressing her lips together, Marcee flipped the dead bolt and jerked the door open.

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