Reflection Point: An Eternity Springs Novel (12 page)

She shot him a triumphant smile. “Feel free to go on about your business.”

He folded his arms and returned a challenging look. “It’s part of my job to assist stranded motorists.”

“I’m not stranded,” she grumbled beneath her breath. Now he had her so rattled that she had to take a peek at the how-to guide on her phone to double-check her next move. Yes, jacking up the car was next.

Savannah carefully placed the jack under the Taurus’ frame, inserted the jack handle, then went to work. This part was even less fun than loosening the lug nuts, but she got the job done. Then she threw Zach Turner another smugly victorious grin.

He smirked back at her.

She refocused her attention on her task and pretended to ignore him. She removed the lug nuts, set them beside her on the ground, and wrestled the flat tire off the axle. It was heavy and dirty and smelled like, well, an old tire.
Yuck
, she silently said as she allowed it to fall onto the ground.

She lifted the lighter donut tire, fitted it onto the wheel studs, and retrieved a lug nut from the ground. Remembering that the video had suggested that the nuts be tightened in a star pattern, she began at the top, then placed the second, third, and fourth nuts. She reached for the fifth.

She couldn’t find it.

Frowning, she looked hard at the rocky ground around her. Where did it go? Had she set the tire on top of it?

“It rolled,” the sheriff said, holding the nut in the palm of his hand, offering it but not handing it to her.

Jerk. What was he trying to prove?

Savannah hesitated. She supposed she could go without it. Surely one missing fastener wouldn’t hurt.
He’d probably arrest me for unsafe driving, though
.

Biting back a sigh, she rolled to her feet and took the four steps over to within reach of his hand. She nabbed the lug nut, but as she drew her hand back, he grabbed her wrist.

Savannah’s gaze flew up to meet his. He was staring at her, his eyes narrowed and intent, almost angry. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered.

Then he dragged her against him and kissed her.

His mouth was hot and hard and hungry, and Savannah resisted it … for about three seconds. It had been so long since a man’s arms had held her. So long since a man’s mouth had captured hers. So very, very long since she’d felt the liquid heat of desire zinging through her veins. It felt so good, so delicious, that she surrendered to it.

When he lifted his head a few moments later, those sky blue eyes of his hazy with desire and just a little bit stunned, she put her hand on his head and guided his
mouth back down to hers. Just before their lips touched, he repeated, “Son of a bitch.”

He backed her up against the Taurus, his tongue stroking her lips, slipping between them, meeting hers. He kissed her deeply, passionately, and tasted of spearmint and danger. This was no first-date kiss, but then, this was no date, was it? This was impulse, greedy and furious. It was as if Zach acted against his own better judgment, against his own will, as if he was helpless against his attraction to her. The possibility of it filled her with a heady feeling of power.

Not that she was actually doing much thinking at the moment. Her blood pounded, her skin tingled, she ached. She needed. While a part of her recognized that she might have just tripped over the line into insanity—after all, she was enthusiastically indulging in a very public display of affection with a sheriff she didn’t even like—she was too caught up in the moment to care.

His hand began to move, skimmed across her breast, thrilling her. Her breath hitched, and for an instant he froze.

Zach released her mouth and his arms fell away as he jerked back and stepped away. Her stomach dropped with an instant of loss before good sense prevailed. For a long, humming moment he stared at her with eyes gone dark and edgy, the angles and planes of his face pronounced.
I did get to him
, she thought, pleased.

He got to you, too. And he’s the sheriff! He knows about you. It’s only a matter of time before he tells everyone in town
.

Savannah wasn’t nearly as pleased as she’d been a moment before.

Maybe her displeasure showed in her expression, because all of a sudden Zach relaxed. That oh-so-talented mouth of his lifted in a smug, knowing smile. He tipped
an imaginary hat and turned to leave. “See you later, Peach.”

Only after his Range Rover had disappeared around a curve in the road did she turn back to her tire. That’s when she realized that at some point in the proceedings, she’d dropped the stupid lug nut. It took her five minutes to find it, then another five minutes to finish with the tire. Pulling back onto the highway, she headed for Eternity Springs and the comfort of a long, hot bath and a glass of wine.

She never noticed the truck parked on the side road that slipped onto the highway after she passed and followed her stealthily back to town.

EIGHT
 

Zach strolled into Cam’s outdoors store shortly before closing time later that same day looking for distraction. His friend stood at the cash register ringing up a sale to a family of tourists, so Zach eyed the different areas of the store, deciding where to spend his time. He wandered over to the golf section, lifted a putter from the display, and tested its weight. A good merchandiser, Cam had a bucket of balls, an Astroturf putting surface, and an electric ball return machine available for customers to try out the products.

Zach dropped a white golf ball onto the green surface and rolled a putt. He missed the target by six inches, scowled, and tried again. Then again.

“That one is two sixty-nine ninety-five,” Cam said.

“That’s a stupid amount of money to pay for a golf club.”

“I agree, but I sold two of them this week. If you’re looking for a putter, you should try this one.” Cam removed a club from a golf bag and handed it to Zach. “It’s under a hundred dollars and it has a great feel.”

Zach used the club to hit another ball. “Nice. I didn’t come here to buy a golf club, though. You got time to go by the pub and grab a beer? Or do you have to get home to the ball and chain?”

Cam sputtered a laugh. “Do me a favor. Let me be there when you use that term around Sarah.”

“She’d kick my ass.”

“Absolutely. Let me take care of my receipts and lock up. We can take the scenic route—I’ll need to drop off my deposit at the bank.”

While Cam returned to the cash register, Zach sidled up to the table where Cam had his fly-tying tools and supplies set up. Without really thinking about it, Zach tightened a hook into the jaws of the vise and picked up the bobbin. As he wound floss around the hook, his thoughts returned, yet again, to the incident along the highway. “Has Sarah said much about the newcomer from Georgia?”

“The delectable Ms. Moore.” Cam eyed Zach with interest. “Sarah bought a soap from her that makes her skin smell like butterscotch ice cream. Makes me want to lick my wife all over.”

“I really don’t need to hear details about your sex life, Murphy.”

“You’re jealous. Totally understandable, as is your interest in sexy Savannah.”

“Did I say I was interested in her?”

No, you just kissed the hell out of her, numbnuts. On the side of a public roadway. What were you thinking?

“You didn’t have to say anything,” Cam fired back. “I watched you at the softball game. You’re interested.”

Zach scowled and wound floss around the hook. “I’m not interested.”

“My wife will be crushed. She’s decided that the two of you are perfect together.”

Perfect together?
Zach set down the bobbin. “A perfect disaster, maybe.”

“Why do you say that? I’ve never seen you shy away from a gorgeous woman.”

“I’m not shying away from anything.” No way was
Zach going to mention the ex-con aspect of Savannah’s history. “I just know that she and I wouldn’t work.”

“Uh-huh,” Cam replied in a disbelieving tone. “Sounds to me like you protest a bit too much, but I’m not going to argue. I’m ready for that beer. I need a few more minutes with my receipts, though. You have time to tie a fly.”

“I don’t need any fishing flies,” Zach said, suddenly frustrated with … everything. “I am covered in flies. Deerflies are the bane of my existence. They lie in wait for me in my garage.”

Taking the change of subject in stride, Cam asked, “Did something die in your garage?”

“No. Jack says it’s what I get for living on a lake. We have armed hostilities going on.”

Cam grinned. “Armed?”

“Out-and-out war. The flies have teeth, you know, and they bite. I’ve started biting back.”

“That’s disgusting, Zachary.”

“I don’t eat ’em. I get wasp spray and a flyswatter, tie a bandanna around my head, and go Rambo on them. You gotta keep moving fast, or they’ll bite the fire out of you.” He hesitated a moment, then asked, “Why does Sarah think that?”

“About you and Savannah? I dunno. I can’t recall. I’m too distracted by the mental image of you fighting deerflies in your garage.”

“It’s a battlefield, I’m telling you. The buggers are fast and mean.”

“Try any ninja rolls on them?”

Zach pursed his lips. “No, but it’s a thought.”

“Sarah says that once Savannah is comfortable with someone, she warms up and is generous and fun to be around.”

“So is my dog,” Zach muttered. “Now that I think about it, ninja rolls might be just the ticket. The flies
aren’t entirely stupid. They know when you’re running out of pookie from the change in spray-can harmonics, and that’s when they blitz your position. A roll would shake up the spray, too. Economy of motion.” He waited a beat and said, “She’s secretive.”

“That’s part of what makes her intriguing. Why wasp spray and not something made for flies?”

“What’s the challenge in that? Besides, there is no trap or bait or spray that will kill them or drive ’em away. I guess you’re right about the intriguing part. I’ve always liked to solve mysteries. The woman has layers. I want to peel them away.”

“I’d ask if you mean clothing or psychological layers, but I know you better than that. You’d say both. So if spray doesn’t kill them, again I ask: why wasp spray?”

“Zap ’em with it and they’ll fly full speed into walls, fall, flop around, then finally go legs up. Bottom line is, I don’t want to get involved with her.”

Cam shrugged. “Then don’t. Tell Yenta the Matchmaker to look for another victim.”

“You tell her. She’s your wife.” Zach fingered a turkey feather on the work table and finally gave voice to the thought that had been rolling around in his brain. “Maybe sleeping with her would get her out of my system.”

Even as he said, he realized the idea didn’t sit well. It wasn’t just sex with Savannah that he wanted. He’d had plenty of sex. This was different. This was weird.

Dangerous.

Cam scowled at him and spoke with a bit of grump in his tone. “Let’s try to have a little more white space between the phrases ‘your wife’ and ‘sleeping with her,’ all right?”

That managed to get a smile out of Zach. “You really are bothered by the fact that Sarah and I dated, aren’t you?”

“No. Okay, maybe a little. And because of that, I
think I’ll point out that from my perspective, your being able to sleep with Savannah is far from a sure thing. All those sparks I witnessed at the ball game could be plain old dislike. Maybe your charm isn’t as legendary as you like to think.”

“Nah.” The sparks were real. The kiss this afternoon had proved that.

The woman confused him, probably because even though he knew the facts of her conviction and prison sentence, the circumstances around it remained unknown to him. She’d committed a crime and paid her debt, but until he knew her story, he didn’t really know the woman. Layers again.

“You know, Turner, it occurs to me that you’ve said more about Savannah in the past five minutes than you ever said about your snow bunny. I find that little detail interesting.”

Zach found it annoying. He couldn’t get the woman out of his mind. “Are you about through? I really would like to get that beer.”

“Almost. I just need to get something from the supply room. Give me a minute.”

It took him three, and when he returned, he handed Zach a brown paper bag containing something cylindrical. Looking inside, he saw it wasn’t the beer he expected. “What’s this?”

“I know I don’t have a license to sell ammo, but I couldn’t resist. It’s industrial strength.”

Zach read the label on the can of flying insect spray and grinned. “Awesome. Thanks, man.”

“Hey, if you’re contemplating ninja rolls on deerflies, supplying a little firepower is the least I can do. Especially since I want to be there to see it.”

A long, scented bath was first on Savannah’s to-do list when she returned home, but she found a note from Celeste
Blessing hanging on her workshop door. Celeste requested that Savannah phone her at Angel’s Rest at her earliest convenience in order to discuss a potential business relationship. Savannah was tempted to ignore it—for no other reason than the older woman’s resemblance to Francine Vaughn. But as a businesswoman, Savannah couldn’t afford to miss potential opportunities due to her phobias. Whatever Celeste suggested, she would consider it, study it closely, and do her level best to use business instincts, not emotions, to make decisions.