A Match Made in Heaven?

“Yes … no.” She threw her hands up in exasperation and marched past him to the house. A moment later she stopped, bristling with indignation. Slowly, she turned and squinted at him. “How did you know I was going to mamma?

“I … er … well …” He brushed a hand across his brows.

She closed her eyes and swayed.

He grabbed her.

She pushed him away. “You didn’t, Johnny?”

A heartbeat of silence throbbed between them.

“You had me trailed?”

“You bet I did.”

“Why?”

“You were distraught … I wanted to ensure you and the baby were all right.” A pause. “I couldn’t be in two places at the same—”

“It’s the baby you were concerned about.” Fiercely, she blinked tears welling in her eyes.

“Of course.” He stepped closer to her. “And yo—”

“Who did you sic on us?”

He closed his eyes and counted to ten. His blood began to simmer, then iced over at her accusing tone. She didn’t believe him. “I asked a friend to watch out for you and let me know—”

“He did a good job spying.”

“I’d done him a favor in the past.”

“Naturally. One favor deserves anoth—”

“I bailed him out when his marriage busted.” He didn’t go into the details of buying the kennels from Willie so he could pay alimony.

“How apt.” She smirked. “Let’s see, he’s a trim and fit trucker, with a commanding, gentle voice and the kindest eyes.” She pressed her finger to her temple as if thinking. “Oh, and he has a penchant for pink hats.”

“He must’ve morphed since I saw him last.”

“What do you mean?”

“Willie’s about five foot six and round as a barrel.” He grinned. “You met at the wedding.” A heavy beat. Maybe it was not such a good idea to remind her about that. Quickly, he regrouped. “He’s a joker most of the time and yeah, I guess he’s kind. To the animals at least.” Then, he copied her gesture, running his finger down his cheek as if in deep thought. “About the pink headgear, gee, Sam, I dunno.”

She dismissed his mocking words and hit the mark, instead. “He wasn’t the one who called the tow company for me.” She eyed him up and down. “He was supposed to wasn’t he, Johnny? But someone else got there first.”

He remained quiet for so long, she thought he hadn’t heard her.

“If it wasn’t Willie who helped me, who was it, Johnny?”

“Beats me.” He scratched his head. “Somehow he knew who I was and signaled you were up ahead.”

“So you did plan this … this … er … takeover?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Sam.” He laughed, and then swallowed the irritating sound. “I did nothing of the kind.”

“There are those who’ll disagree.”

“Who?”

“Take a guess,” she said in an offhand way, navigating her way up the front stairs of the rambling cottage.

He followed on her heels, not leaving well enough alone. “Michael Scott wouldn’t be one, would he?” he asked, his words dry as the peeling paint on the walls.

“Think what you like.” She flounced another step ahead and figured with all her extra weight, she must appear comical. She didn’t care. She was too tired to get into another verbal sparring match with her husband; or should she be thinking of him as her ex? Her heartbeat swerved, and she paused on the landing to regulate her breathing.

Forcing the troublesome notions away, she focused on what was to be the roof over her head for the next couple of days. Wind whistled through the rafters. She wrapped her arms around herself and glanced up at the clouds drifting across the moon. The weather had turned, and she was thankful she wasn’t stranded on that deserted stretch of freeway.

A sudden bark in the darkness made her jump. Johnny leaped up the last two steps and stood by her side. He was so close his body heat warmed her skin, but not close enough that he touched her. She bit her lip to stop herself from leaning into him. “One of your brood?”

“Yeah.” He made to smile but didn’t quite make it. “A welcome sound.”

“Is it?”

“Thought you liked dogs.”

“I do.”

He cocked a russet brow as if contesting her words.

“The friendly ones,” she conceded, flicking a blonde strand off her shoulder.

“Ah huh.” He sidestepped to her right and almost nipped her heels. “These canines helped you marry the right man.” She turned so abruptly, he bumped into her protruding belly and instantly stepped back.

“That’s debatable.” She almost retracted her words when she glimpsed pain flash across his eyes; then again, it could be a trick of the light from the flash in his hand.

In the circumstances, words were her only defense. Otherwise, she’d be falling into his arms, his eyes … him. And she couldn’t do that and make a smart decision, so she allowed the verbal barrier to stand and protect her from her turbulent feelings.

“That could work both ways, Mrs. Belen.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Figure it out.

She raised her shapely brows and placed a finger on her chin. “Hmm, for better or worse was what the preacher said.”

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes drilling into her.

She squashed the breathless sensation, but her stomach fluttered. “That’s it.” She scanned the premises, breaking eye contact and swallowing her panic.