Something About Ewe: Something About Ewe / The Purrfect Man. Ruth Dale Jean

you’re home! We’re going to have so much fun that you’ll never leave.”

      The bell above the front door tinkled and Emily frowned. “Drat. I’ll have to see who that is.” She rose. “Maybe whoever it is will leave without buying anything—and come back later, of course.”

      Thalia relaxed back against the cushions to wait. It was wonderful seeing Emily again, but she felt as out of place here as she had in California. Emily belonged because she had never left. Her grandmother had owned this store for decades. When she’d retired two or three years ago and moved to warmer climes, she’d left her favorite granddaughter in charge.

      It was no surprise that Emily had taken hold with such enthusiasm. A whiz with a sewing machine since childhood, she was doing what she loved. Thalia, by contrast, was doing something valuable, but she didn’t love it.

      Sighing, she looked down at her conservative brown skirt and beige silk blouse. She should have worn jeans and mountain boots. In her California clothes, she even looked like a foreigner, no matter how nicely everyone treated her. All she wanted to do was blend in, make her mother happy, and flee back to the coast at the earliest opportunity.

      She heard footsteps but didn’t turn. “That didn’t take long,” she said. “Was it anyone I know?”

      Hands covered her eyes and a deeply masculine voice said in her ear, “That all depends on the meaning of the word know.”

      She caught her breath, then covered his hands with hers and tried without success to drag them away from her eyes. “Luke! Turn me loose!”

      “Shoot,” he said, promptly releasing her. “You guessed. How’s it goin’, Thalia?”

      Leaning her head back, she looked up into his smiling face. Even upside down, he looked wonderful, especially with that lock of sun-bleached hair spilling over his forehead.

      “It’s going fine,” she said. Looking at him this way made her dizzy. She straightened selfconsciously. “I see you haven’t changed one bit, Lucas Dalton.”

      “Why would I want to change?” He rounded the settee and took a seat across from her in the wicker chair.

      “I don’t know.” Emily was right. He was better looking than before: more mature, his rangy frame nicely filled out. Thalia cleared her throat. “I just thought that now you’re all grown-up and a doggy doctor, you might be more…serious.” She’d also expected that sexy gleam in his eyes would be gone, which it wasn’t.

      He laughed incredulously. “Boy, that hurts. I am serious. I always was serious. I just never saw the point of wearing it like a hair shirt.”

      “Meaning I did?” She bolted upright.

      “If the hair shirt fits—”

      Emily’s voice sailed into the middle of the blossoming fray. “Thalia, isn’t it great that Luke dropped by? He said he saw us through the window and wanted to say hi. Don’t beat up on him, okay?”

      “I certainly wouldn’t do that,” Thalia said, as cool as if she hadn’t once, many years ago, wrapped herself in a plastic shower curtain and sprung out from behind a door to seduce him.

      Emily offered him a cup of coffee, which he accepted with a smile of thanks. But his attention was clearly on Thalia. “How long will you be here?”

      “A month, maybe two.”

      “We’ll have to get together.” He gave her a coaxing smile that melted her like a birthday candle.

      “Whatever,” she said noncommittally.

      “That’s a great idea,” Emily said eagerly. “There’s a bunch of us who get together now and again at the Watering Hole. Next time I’ll give you both a call.”

      “Sounds great,” Luke said.

      “I don’t think so,” Thalia said.

      Emily frowned. “Why not? You know most everyone already, so what’s your problem?”

      “I’m not too crazy about bars,” Thalia admitted. “For one thing, I don’t drink all that much.”

      Emily’s eyes widened. “Like I do? Look, it’s just a friendly little happy-hour get-together.”

      Thalia cast an oblique glance at Luke. “Do you go to these friendly little happy hours?”

      He shrugged. “Once in a while.” That roguish gleam was back. “But if you’re going, I’ll make a point of being there.”

      His response startled her and she looked quickly away. Why was he coming on so strong? He hadn’t been interested in her when she was interested in him; now that she wanted nothing more than to avoid all emotional entanglements, he wanted to hit on her?

      Not in this lifetime. With lips pressed tightly together, she listened idly to the comfortable banter between Em and Luke. How were her cats? Fine. How was the Benson dog that had been stomped by a horse last week? Also fine, or would be soon. How was business? Fine—

      Thalia stood abruptly. “I think I’d better be going,” she said. “Mom’s expecting me and it’s going on six now.”

      “Don’t go yet.” Emily looked genuinely disappointed. “We really haven’t had a chance to talk.”

      No, because Luke had horned in. “There’ll be time.”

      “Hey, I’m sorry.” Luke rose, too. “I barged right in here, I was so happy to see Thalia again.” But he didn’t offer to leave, just looked expectantly at Thalia.

      “I close at six,” Emily said. “If you’ll just hang around, we could have dinner or something. Call your mom. She’ll understand.”

      Luke added hopefully, “That sounds good.”

      Thalia wasn’t falling into that trap. Let the two of them go to dinner together. “I hate to beg off, but can we do it another night? Mom’s really expecting me.”

      Emily pouted. “Oh, all right. But I don’t like it.”

      “I’ll call tomorrow.” Thalia squeezed her friend’s hand and turned for the door. “Nice seeing you, Luke.”

      “Really? Then you’ll be happy to learn I’m going home with you.”

      She stopped so suddenly that he stepped on her heels. “What?”

      “I’m going to follow you home in my car.” He looked quite pleased with himself.

      She frowned. “I don’t recall inviting you.”

      “Like I need an invitation?” he scoffed. “Your mom’s always glad to see me. Besides, her Border collie is under the weather. You can just consider it a house call.”

      “Darn it, Luke.” She glared at him. “You’re crowding me.”

      “Really?” His amber eyes widened with disbelief. “I’m just doing my job, Thalia. The health of your mom’s dog is important to me. But if you don’t want me following you…”

      “I don’t.” Feeling guilty but refusing to yield, she met his gaze.

      “Okay, then I’ll meet you there.” He dipped his chin to Emily. “Have a nice evening.” Turning, he walked away whistling.

      Thalia stood there, listening to Emily’s giggle and feeling dumb as a rock.

      2

      SHEPHERD’S PASS HAD GROWN in the years Thalia had been away. Her mother’s home and property used to be at the edge of town, with nothing between it and the mountains. Now it was necessary to drive through an upscale planned community of new homes—Shangri-la, according to the signs—to even get there.

      Nice homes, she thought,