A Creed in Stone Creek Part 17

She and Steven arrived at the same time.

"I like the look," he said, taking in her skirt and sweater with a slow sweep of his eyes as they stood on the sidewalk in front of the cafe.

She let that pa.s.s. "Where's Matt?"

One side of his mouth kicked up in a grin. He looked better than good in his white shirt and well-fitting blue jeans. "At day camp," he replied, with a grin dancing in his eyes. "I spent the morning with an architect from Flagstaff. I'd like to have the house finished and the new barn up by fall."

Melissa looked down at the community dog dish, filled with clear water, and stopped just short of asking about Zeke.

Steven smiled again, opened the door for her, and held it wide. "Zeke's at home," he said, evidently reading her mind. "And he's fine."

It was disconcerting, the way this man could guess what she was thinking. What if he figured out that, even against her better judgment, just being around him made her want his body? She looked away quickly.

The cafe was crowded, as it usually was at that time of day, but Tessa seated them right away, at a corner table.

Melissa immediately reached for a menu, although her stomach was doing that nervous thing again.

"I had a great time last night, Melissa," Steven said. "So did Matt."

She looked at him over the top of her menu. Blinked once. It should have been easy to come up with an answer-so why wasn't it?

"I'm glad," she said, after a long time.

Steven didn't take the other menu, which was tucked between the napkin holder and the salt and pepper shakers. He just sat there, across the table, within touching distance, looking all warm-eyed and amused. "I'm glad you're glad," he teased, lowering his voice and leaning forward slightly.

She blushed then, because the way his eyes caressed her made her feel as naked as any of the croquet-playing oldsters she'd seen in Ashley's backyard the other day. They were in a very public place, she and Steven, but, even though they'd already drawn their share of glances, the Sunflower was so full of noisy good cheer that no one could have overheard their conversation-although a few people were sure to try.

"The club sandwich is very good here," she said helpfully, giving the menu a little wriggle. "So is the beef stew."

Steven smiled at her again.

Tingly waves of-something rippled under her skin. rippled under her skin.

"Okay," he said, his tone husky.

Melissa gave him a level look. "Lunch?" she reminded him.

"Supper, too, I hope," he said, without missing a beat. "Six o'clock? My place?"

Her heartbeat quickened. "Your place?" she repeated stupidly.

"I'm afraid Matt won't be there, though," Steven said, sounding mildly rueful. "Meg and Brad invited him to sleep over tonight. He and Mac are already great buddies."

Melissa swallowed. If Matt wasn't going to be home, of course they would be alone, she and Steven Creed.

Say no, warned her practical side. warned her practical side. You know what could happen, and you're not ready for that. You know what could happen, and you're not ready for that.

"Isn't this a school night?" she asked.

Wow. She was a veritable genius when it came to small talk.

"Matt goes to day camp," Steven pointed out, after indulging in another of those slow, lethal grins. "Not Harvard."

"Oh," Melissa said.

"Are you coming, or not?"

She blushed again. Had he worded the question that way on purpose? "It's a little soon," she said.

"For what?" Steven asked, clearly enjoying her discomfort.

"You know d.a.m.n well for what, for what," Melissa told him. She'd lost patience with herself by then. All this waffling was so unlike her-she was a direct person.

His blue eyes twinkled with mischief. And the promise of sweet, hot, languid things. "Do I?" he drawled. And then he reached out, took the menu from her hands, and set it aside. Closed his fingers around hers.

"Yes," Melissa whispered. "You do." Melissa whispered. "You do."

Just then, Tessa reappeared, pen and order pad in hand. "What'll it be?" she asked, smiling at both of them.

Steven ordered the club sandwich.

Melissa opted for beef stew, even though it was a warm day.

Still smiling, Tessa nodded and turned away.

"You were saying?" Steven grinned. He hadn't let go of Melissa's hand; indeed, he ran the pad of his thumb over her knuckles, very lightly.

Flames shot through her. "I forget."

"Liar."

"It's too soon," Melissa reiterated. There was something feverish in her tone.

"Are you trying to convince yourself, or me?"

"Steven, stop it. stop it."

Tessa came back with their drinks then-both of them had ordered iced tea.

"You're okay, aren't you?" Tessa asked, giving Melissa much closer scrutiny than before. "Somebody at the counter just told me you were almost hit by a car this morning, while you were out for your run."

Small towns. Every incident, no matter how small, was grist for the mill.

"Just a little shaken up," Melissa said, aware of the change in Steven's face even though she wasn't looking directly at him just then. His grip tightened around her hand. "It was no big deal, Tessa. A miss is as good as a mile and all that."

"It could have been a very very big deal," Tessa protested. "Did you see a doctor?" big deal," Tessa protested. "Did you see a doctor?"

"Tessa," Melissa said, with a smile and a shake of her head, "I'm fine. Really." Really."

Tessa hesitated for another moment or so, then turned and walked away.

"You were almost run over by a car?" Steven asked. He was holding both her hands by then. And he no longer looked amused.

People were watching them.

Jumping to all kinds of conclusions.

She could feel feel it. it.

"I wasn't hurt," she insisted. It bothered her, how much she was enjoying his concern.

"What happened?" Steven asked.

"Nothing," Melissa answered. "That's why the word Melissa answered. "That's why the word almost almost comes into play." comes into play."

His fine jawline tightened briefly, relaxed again.

"Let's talk about something else besides accidents that didn't quite happen," she suggested, hoping to lighten the mood.

The grin was back, and it was as dangerous as ever. "Like what?"

"Well, not s.e.x," Melissa said, and then regretted it.

He laughed. "I agree," he said. "It's better to just go ahead and do do some things, rather than wasting time talking about them." some things, rather than wasting time talking about them."

Melissa blinked. "Did you just say what I think you just said?" she demanded, whispering again. Leaning toward him.

"You were the one who brought up the subject of s.e.x," Steven pointed out reasonably. "Not me."

He looked so d.a.m.nably comfortable, sitting there, easy in his skin, with his gla.s.s of iced tea in front of him and his eyes that indescribable shade of blue-violet.

"Then I'm officially un unbringing it up," Melissa said. "Forget I mentioned s.e.x at all. It was totally inappropriate. A slip of the tongue-"

His grin flashed again.

She blushed even more. "I didn't mean-"

Mercifully, the food arrived then.

Since her stomach was still doing the circus thing, Melissa was surprised to realize that she was hungry. She picked up her spoon and focused on the delicious beef stew.

"What do you like to do, Melissa?" Steven asked, about midway through the meal. He'd made a pretty good dent in his club sandwich, and pushed away his plate to focus all his attention on her.

The feeling that gave her was exciting, in an unsettling sort of way. She was an attractive woman, and she knew it, but like many people, she felt invisible a lot of the time. "Do?" she echoed, confused. "I work. I read. And I jog."

"How do you feel about horses?"

"I grew up on a ranch," Melissa answered. "I rode a lot when I was younger. Not so much lately." And until she'd gotten over the effects of that morning's spill, she wouldn't be climbing into any saddles, thank you very much.

"I spent summers on the family ranch up in Colorado when I was a kid," he said. "Riding was about my favorite thing."

A picture flashed in Melissa's mind-she could imagine Steven as he must have looked growing up. That thatch of brownish-gold hair, those eyes, full of mischief. And probably a smattering of freckles, too. "Just summers?" she asked. "Where did you live the rest of the time?"

"Boston." That was all. Just "Boston." And the way he said it was clipped, almost abrupt.

"I've been there a few times," Melissa said. "To Boston, I mean. It's a great city. I especially love the Common, and the swan boats."

Steven relaxed then, but Melissa saw that it took an effort, and that made her wonder what the rest of the Creeds were like, specifically his parents. She'd met the Montana branch of the family-Logan, Dylan and Tyler-when they visited their McKettrick cousins on the Triple M, over near Indian Rock. Those three hadn't had the easiest of childhoods, that was for sure, but they'd turned out to be fine men.

It had been Melissa's experience that some adversity made a person strong. She and Ashley, and certainly Brad and Olivia, were proof of that. Their mother, Delia, had abandoned them at a young age, and later on their dad, the cla.s.sic man of few words but nonetheless the most solid presence in their lives, had been killed.

"Once my grandfather and my mother were both gone," Steven said, "that left my uncles running the show. Boston sort of lost its charm then."

It was a lot to absorb, and the cafe, however pleasant, surely wasn't the best place to discuss the things they were obviously destined to discuss.

Melissa figured things were getting too heavy. "Are we going to build our friendship around food, Steven Creed?" she asked. "We seem to be sharing quite a few meals these days."

Steven caught Tessa's eye, silently asking for the check.

Looking at Melissa again, he smiled. "I want to spend more time with you," he said forthrightly. "And out here in the countryside, that seems to include breaking bread together."

One of the waitresses brought the bill, since Tessa was busy with a fresh crop of customers, and Steven paid it on the spot, shook his head when the young girl asked if he wanted change.

Heads turned as they left the restaurant, as they had when Melissa and Steven came in, but Melissa was used to that. Stone Creek was, after all, barely more than a wide spot in the road, even a century and a half after the first settlers arrived.

"Thanks for lunch," she told Steven, when they were standing on the sidewalk again.

He looked around, probably for her car. "I could give you a ride back to work," he offered. "My truck is just around the corner."

Melissa smiled. "That's okay," she said. "The walk will be good for me."

Steven didn't look convinced of that, but he didn't argue, either.

"I'll be expecting you around six," he said.

She nodded, wondering precisely when she'd gone around the bend. She decided it must have happened when she got her first look at Steven Creed, because she'd certainly been sane before that.

The hike back to the office was a short one, but it didn't make Melissa feel better any more than the walk over over had done. If she'd been anybody but her stubborn O'Ballivan self, she'd have taken Tom's earlier suggestion, gone home, gulped down something for the pain and climbed into bed. had done. If she'd been anybody but her stubborn O'Ballivan self, she'd have taken Tom's earlier suggestion, gone home, gulped down something for the pain and climbed into bed.

When she arrived, Adelaide Hillingsley was in the outer office, chatting with Andrea.

"I came about the toilet paper rumor," the middle-aged woman announced forthrightly, as soon as she spotted Melissa. Pudgy, with thin, reddish hair and bright hazel eyes, Adelaide was a cheerful soul, and her family, like Bea's, went way back in Stone Creek's history.

Melissa managed not to roll her eyes, but just barely. Did anyone anyone in this town understand that this was the prosecutor's office, not the official headquarters of the Parade Committee? in this town understand that this was the prosecutor's office, not the official headquarters of the Parade Committee?

Resigned, she gestured toward the entrance to her private s.p.a.ce.

"Shall I bring in some coffee?" Andrea piped up, all chipper efficiency.