So, once she arrived home, she packed away her supplies then went into a frenzy of housecleaning, beginning with stripping and remaking her bed. Should she use her soft and silky pink sheets or the crisp white cotton with the crocheted borders?
Since she didn’t want him sliding away from her, she chose the cotton and quickly made the bed before vacuuming the entire house, and then mopping the kitchen and bathroom. After she finished, she opened all the windows to dissipate the scent of the cleansers she’d used then closed the house up tight and lit a candle, one that smelled like vanilla since she’d heard men liked the scent of cookies.
As the hands on her clock ticked away, she set about making lasagna—something she rarely did because her recipe took many layers and the baking time was long. Still, she had time if she didn’t dawdle, so she did her best to shut Preacher out of her mind—at least until she put the pan in the oven to bake. At that point, she had a crisp salad in the refrigerator, as well as garlic bread buttered and seasoned and ready to slide under the broiler at the last minute.
So, she opened the bottle of red wine, poured herself a glass, and carried it into her bathroom to sip while she bathed and did her makeup.
She was ready at five, just in case he took her up on her offer to arrive early.
She wore a casual maxi dress, one that clung to her waist rather than billowed around her, because she didn’t want it to look like she was wearing a tent. The dress was a simple dark blue cotton and sleeveless. The neckline dipped between her breasts, baring a little cleavage, and hugged her hips before falling straight to the floor, therefore not emphasizing the curve of her bottom. Yes, it was fall, and the temperatures dipped wickedly at night, but her house was toasty and warm, so she could wear what felt good. And tonight, the dress called to her, making her feel feminine and pretty.
She also wore silver sandals with thin soles and tiny straps. If she’d been asked, she would have said her feet were her best feature. They were smooth and small, and her toenails were nicely shaped and painted a vibrant red.
Who was she kidding? What man admired a woman’s feet? Standing in front of the mirror, she hoped the cleavage she showed would distract him from her other curves, but then again, he’d seen her coming and going and knew she wasn’t a twig.
Picking up her nearly empty glass, she wandered back to the kitchen to check on the lasagna. It was time to take off the foil and let the cheese on top bubble up a bit. She liked a little crisp around the edges.
Then she poured herself another glass and sat on her couch, which faced the front yard and gave her a view of the driveway. Any minute now…
* * *
Preacher glanced at his watch and cursed as he turned off his engine. It was 6:30, and he was late. The sky was already darkening. He’d vastly underestimated how long it would take to find his second skip.
Marvin Huebner had seen him park in his driveway and had run out his back door.
Behind Marvin’s house was a forest, which had given him acres and acres to seek cover. Every time Preacher had drawn near, Marvin had jackrabbited up and run deeper into the woods, until he’d found a ravine which he slid down on his ass to get to the bottom.
Preacher had followed him, cussing as he went because the ravine had been filled with brackish water and mud. His boots had slurped with every footstep. Eventually, Marvin ran out of steam. By the time Preacher caught up to man who was clinging to an overhanging limb and wheezing, Marvin had apparently decided the best strategy at that point was to mimic a soggy noodle. When Preacher jerked him from the branch and cuffed him, Marvin fell to his knees in the water and refused to move.
“Seriously, dude?” Preacher said, his irritation mounting. “It’s a fucking drug test. Piss now, and you’ll have hours before you can piss again—if you don’t drink the coffee they’ll give you.”
“Man, I can’t pee positive. My girlfriend’ll kill me if I miss our baby’s birthday. Please, man. Give me a couple of days. I’ll find you. Promise.”
Preacher didn’t feel sorry for the man. He’d heard that excuse one too many times to believe it. Or to think the man cared about his baby’s birthday party.
“Sorry, man. You’re going today.” He’d bent close to Marvin’s face and given him a fierce scowl. “The only question I have is whether you’re willing to walk on your own or with my boot up your ass all the way to my Suburban. I don’t care if I have to buy a new goddamn pair of boots either. It’s up to you.”
In the end, Marvin had trudged back through the woods, his head hanging low.
Preacher hoped Laura wouldn’t be so angry she’d refuse to answer the door. He reached for the flowers he’d dashed inside the grocery store to get on his way over. He’d have brought flowers anyway, but he’d bought every rose of every color they’d had to soften his apology.
Walking toward her house, he noted it was small but well-maintained. The roof looked fairly new, so did the paint. The pale blue was accented by a darker blue on the door and shutters. The steps were concrete, the railing iron and also painted a dark blue.
Standing in front of her door, he cleared his throat and rang the doorbell.
He didn’t hear any movement inside the house and glanced around, doublechecking the digits on the mailbox near the curb. Yeah, he was in the right place. His glance moved around Laura’s yard. It was exactly what he’d expected. Pretty and neat, ornamental bushes in beds that were dusted with a fresh fall of leaves. Pansies sat in pots beside the front door.
Raising his hand, he prepared to knock once more, but the door swung open and Laura stood in the doorway.
The scent of lasagna wafted outside, and his stomach growled. Quickly, he held out the flowers. “I’m sorry as hell I’m late.”
Her eyes widened as she reached for the overlarge bouquet. “Oh my. I’ll need three vases.” Then her gaze rose to meet his. “I was beginning to worry…”
“I had a guy I needed to haul in for a drug test, and he decided to run for it. Took me a while to find him. Then I had to go home to shower because he had me running through a muddy ravine.”
“No need to apologize.” She backed away from the door. “Sorry to keep you standing there. You come on in. I have to get these in water.”
He followed her inside, trailing through her living room to the separate kitchen beyond it. Inside the kitchen, he had to blink. Pink was everywhere: the walls, the counter tiles, the rug in front of the sink. Varying hues of the same soft blush pink as many of the flowers he’d bought. The cabinets themselves were painted white to match the white appliances. It all blended to make a very feminine room that suited her perfectly.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “I know. It’s very pink.”
“No, it’s…nice.”
“When I bought the place, the kitchen had to be gutted, so I got to choose everything. I decided to suit myself.”
“It’s pretty.” Like you.
“Well, thank you.” Her chin lifted toward the white table in front of a window that overlooked the backyard. “Go ahead and have a seat. I took the lasagna out a while ago. It should be plenty cool to eat. I just have to toast the garlic bread.”
“Take your time.”