CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

There were six messages on Theo's cell phone. He went to Michelle's library to listen and make notes while she started dinner. When he was finished, he called Noah Clayborne and asked him to drive over from Biloxi.

"Is dinner ready? I'm hungry," he asked when he came into the kitchen.

"No, dinner isn't ready," she said. "This isn't a bed-and-breakfast. You're going to help." She picked up the knife and began chopping celery and carrots. He leaned against the sink watching her.

"Damn, you're good."

"That's what all the boys say."

"You're like a robot with that knife. Quick, precise… impressive."

"You do know how to turn a girl's head."

He grabbed one of the carrots and popped it into his mouth. "What do you want me to do? I'm starving."

"That double cheeseburger didn't do the trick?"

"That was just an appetizer."

"You could light the grill for me. There are some matches in the drawer to your right."

"Is the grill in the backyard?" He was looking suspiciously out the back window, squinting to see into the twilight through the screened— in porch.

"Of course it's in the backyard. What's the matter?"

"Do I have to worry about another Lois out there?"

"No," she assured him. And then, as her daddy would say, the devil got hold of her and she couldn't resist adding, "Of course,

Elvis could be in the neighborhood. You might want to take the broom out with you, just in case."

He stopped in his tracks. "Elvis?"

She tore a sheet of aluminum foil and was piling vegetables in the center. "Our local celebrity. Last time anyone reported seeing him, he swore Elvis was sixteen feet long."

"You named an alligator Elvis? What's the matter with you people?"

"We don't name all of them," she defended. "Just the impressive ones."

"You're joking about Elvis. Right?"

She smiled sweetly. "Sort of."

"It's sort of damned cruel to torment a man who has an obvious phobia about alligators, Mike."

"I would prefer it if you called me Michelle."

"I would prefer it if you didn't joke about alligators."

"Okay. Deal."

"So how come I can't call you Mike? Everyone else does."

She was carefully folding the edges of the foil when she answered. "I don't want you to think of me as a… Mike."

"Why not?"

"It isn't very feminine. How many men do you know who would want to get involved with a woman named Mike?"

"What?"

"Never mind."

"I don't want to 'never mind.' Are you saying you want to get involved-"

She interrupted him. "No, that isn't what I'm saying. Just don't call me Mike. Now, go light the grill, and stop looking at me as though you think I've lost my mind. If you get scared, scream and I'll come out with a broom and save you."

"Men don't scream, and you, Michelle, have a sick sense of humor." He glanced out the window again and then said, "Ah, hell. Alligators come out at night, don't they? I'm the one who's lost his mind. What am I doing in this…" He was going to say godforsaken place but caught himself in time. "… wilderness."

She'd guessed where he'd been headed, though. The glint in her eyes told him so.

"I don't know. You tell me. What are you doing here?"

"I came to fish, remember? I didn't figure on alligators getting in my way."

"So for, none have," she pointed out. "And you didn't come here just to fish."

"You're right."

"And?"

He shrugged. "Maybe I'm looking for something. Okay?" Now he sounded antagonistic.

She turned back to the sink. "Tell me what it is. I'll help you find it."

He went outside without answering her. She couldn't understand where the sudden tension had come from. One minute they

were joking, and the next Theo had turned dead serious. On the surface he was a laid-back, take-everything-in-stride kind of

man. Still waters.. . she thought. There was a good deal more to Theo Buchanan than his good looks.

She decided to lighten up. If he wanted to tell her what his agenda was, then he would. She wasn't going to nag him like a fishwife.

It was such a lovely, sultry evening that they ate dinner at the wrought-iron table on the porch. The conversation was superficial and strained, but it didn't interfere with Theo's appetite. He ate like her father, with unbridled gusto. When he was finished,

there wasn't a single leftover.

"If I ate like you do, I'd have to widen the doorways," she said.

He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. "It's so peaceful here, listening to the sounds of the bullfrogs and crickets."

She didn't want to give him an upset stomach by getting him all riled up again, so she didn't mention that the sounds in the distance were coming from the alligators. Since she'd grown up in the swamp, she didn't even notice it. She had a feeling city boy would freak out, though.

He insisted on doing the dishes. Since she didn't have a dishwasher, he had to do them by hand. She put the seasonings away while he washed the silverware, then grabbed a towel and started drying.

"How come you aren't married?" he asked.

"I haven't had time."

"Are you seeing anyone now?"

"No."

Good, he thought. He had no intention of hanging around Bowen, but while he was here, he didn't want any other man getting

in his way. And that made him a heartless son of a bitch, he thought.

"What are you thinking?" she asked. "You've got the most ferocious look on your face."

I'm a selfish bastard. That's what I'm thinking. "I'm wondering why you don't have men chasing you. One look and any man would know…"

"Know what?"

He grinned. "You've got the goods."

She rolled her eyes. "What a romantic way to give a girl a compliment."

"Hey, I'm from Boston, remember? Men are raised to be blunt. Are there any men around here you're interested in?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"Just curious."

"I think Ben Nelson would like to get something going, but I'm not going to encourage him. Ben's nice, but there isn't any

chemistry between us. You know what I mean?"

"Sure I do. Like the chemistry between us."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." He handed her a plate to dry, noticed it was still streaked with soap bubbles, and snatched it back to rinse

again. "You've been wanting to jump my bones since the minute I walked into your dad's bar."

He'd hit that nail on the head, but she wasn't about to admit it. "Jump your bones? I think not."

"I'm simply calling it like it is."

"And how did you come up with that notion?"

"I saw it in your eyes."

"You couldn't have."

"I couldn't?"

She smiled. "You were too busy looking at my legs."

He didn't appear the least chagrined. "They're fine-looking legs."

"I'll admit there is a certain physical attraction, but that's perfectly healthy."

"Is this a lead-in to a lecture about hormones?"

"That depends on how long I'm going to have to stand here and wait for you to finish washing that bowl. You don't do a lot of dishes, do you?"

"Your point?"

"You're taking forever."

"I'm slow and easy with everything I do."

It wasn't what he said but how he said it that made her heartbeat escalate. Was he slow and easy in bed? Oh, Lord, wouldn't

that be something?

"You were married, weren't you?" She blurted out the question.

"Yes, I was. I wasn't very good at it."

"Your wife died."

"That's right."

She reached up and put another dish away in the cabinet. "That's what Daddy told me. How did she die?"

He handed her a salad bowl. "Why do you want to know?"

"I'm curious," she admitted. "If you think I'm being too intrusive, I won't ask any more questions."