* * * *
She refused to hide just inside the door as she had the other times. In the living room she gathered the real estate listings, straightening them inefficiently with hands that trembled and shoving them haphazardly into a folder.
When she heard a sound at the door, she froze. He was just outside. She could practically feel him there, standing and looking at the solid wood door with its rectangles of high windows.
He hadn’t said anything, done anything when she had wrenched away, hurriedly straightened her clothes and snatched the keys from the ignition, barely pausing to say, “I have to go, Paul. Good night.” As a farewell it wasn’t much. If he rang the bell—demanding an explanation—would she have the strength not to answer?
But he didn’t ring. And in another endless moment or two she heard his car pull away from in front of her house. When that faded to silence, she let out a deep, long breath and went to the door. She opened it cautiously.
There on the step sat a trio of pumpkins, a round one, a tall one and a squat one. When she started laughing she knew she was in trouble.
Oh, she was in a lot of trouble.
Chapter Five
Prelude to a Wedding (The Wedding Series Book 1) Page 14
