Smooth Moves. Carrie Alexander

bunched against her bare breasts, the woman flew to the window and peered out. Her mouth was open. She seemed to be breathing hard, her face aflame beneath the sheaf of dark hair. He took another big step backward, trusting the overhang of the porch roof that now blocked his view would deny hers as well.

      After a long tense moment and one last breathy exclamation, he heard the sash slam and the clatter of blinds descending with unseemly speed. Had she spotted him?

      The probability made him smile.

      Mmm. Turned out his early, unexpected homecoming had its pluses after all.

      CATHY’S VOICE shook as she spoke into the cordless phone. “What does Zack Brody look like?”

      “You’ve seen photos,” said Julia Knox, off-handedly. Confused that her embarrassment was sprinkled with what seemed a lot like titillation, Cathy hadn’t explained why she was asking.

      “I’ve seen Laurel’s engagement photo. The one she uses as a pincushion.” Cathy squinted as she parted the slatted blinds. The Brody house next door was dark and silent; perhaps she’d been mistaken. Which could be worse. If the peeper wasn’t Zack Brody, then who…? Did she want the frying pan or the fire?

      No choice. “What does he look like without a gazillion pins sticking out of his face?”

      Julia chuckled. “Oh, he’s a handsome sonovagun.”

      Cathy gritted her teeth. “Well, gosh, I know that.”

      Zack Brody’s looks were as legendary as the rest of him. There were those who said he should have followed Eunice LaSalle to Hollywood; the younger generation was more likely to suggest a male modeling career in New York. His photographs were prominent in several locations throughout Quimby, including athletic team pictures in the trophy cases at the high school and an award-winning senior photo on permanent display at the local photography studio. Good old Heartbreak was even in evidence at city hall. When Cathy had gone to get her business license, there was a black-and-white Zack smiling out at her, snapped in the act of receiving a commendation from the mayor for his lifesaving rescue of Faith Fagan at Mirror Lake. Naturally, she’d studied the shot. Zack’s charisma had shone even in a still photograph. He was handsome, clean-cut, very Kennedyesque in the best of ways. But, at twenty, still a boy.

      Cathy said as much to Julia, wanting to know what he might look like now…when he was stripped to the waist, every bared muscle wet and glistening. Without her glasses, she hadn’t gotten a clear look at his face. But the body had left a lasting impression.

      “Ah, there you go.” Julia sounded far too cheerful. “Zack only gets better looking as he ages. He’s an adult now, you see, not just an exceptionally handsome young man. His masculine pulchritude’s at full power.”

      You bet. Cathy tried to transfer the pinpricked face of Laurel’s fiancé onto the virile body she’d glimpsed in the shadows beneath the Brody’s porch.

      She sank onto the bed, her joints soft as pudding. “I don’t think I can do this.”

      Julia understood at once. “Nonsense. It’s going to be such fun. We won’t let it go too far.”

      Cathy thought of her unwitting exposure at the open window and gave a dry laugh that turned into a cough. By all appearances, she was way past too far.

      “Er, Julia…when exactly is Zack due to return?”

      “Sometime tomorrow.”

      “You’re sure?”

      “He’s pretty reliable.”

      “Except when it comes to weddings.”

      “Mmm, there is that.”

      Cathy sighed. “Julia? Do you believe Laurel’s side of the story?”

      “There’s been no evidence to the contrary.”

      “But from what you’ve said, it sounds like Zack hasn’t been in contact since he left. Other than to ask you to look after the house.”

      “His silence is awfully suspicious.”

      Cathy tugged up her towel, her own silence skeptical.

      “Shoot,” said Julia, “we wouldn’t even have learned about his brother’s accident if it weren’t for Gwen’s persistent nosiness. Zack knows how much we all care for Adam. We’d’ve liked to have known how he was doing.”

      “Well, see—that’s what I mean.” Cathy wondered why she was defending a man called Heartbreak. Especially when the odds were that she’d end up his next victim. “I don’t blame Laurel for being put out, but considering that he cancelled because of a family emergency…”

      “If he’d stopped to explain, sure, we’d all have understood.” Julia’s tone grew mulish. “But he didn’t. He left poor Laurel stranded at the church in a five-thousand-dollar designer wedding gown. There were six bridesmaids. Seventy-five guests. Seventy-five plates of salmon in mint sauce. It was a frigging fiasco.”

      “I suppose so.”

      “All part of Heartbreak’s pattern.”

      Cathy hesitated. “He’s that bad?”

      “How shall I put it?” Julia’s laugh was contemplative. Maybe even nostalgic. “Aw, Cath. You won’t fully understand until you meet him, but the best I can explain is that Zack is so darn good he’s bad.”

      “So good?”

      “The best. The ultimate smooth operator. Every woman he dates thinks she’s died and gone to heaven. Next to the usual mouth-breathing social cretins that pass for eligible bachelors in Quimby, Zack’s a sweet-talking miracle. No girl can resist. And, wow, believe me, it’s great while it lasts.”

      “But?”

      “But then the dream ends,” Julia said evenly. “One day, one way or another, you wake up and realize Zack’s moved on to the next woman just when you were getting ready to order the monogrammed towels. And then you don’t even get the pleasure of hating him because he’s so incredibly charming even when he’s dumping you.”

      Cathy blinked at the phone. “I’d be devastated.”

      “Yup.” Julia sounded anything but. “And that’s why we call him Heartbreak.”

      “Yet you still like him,” Cathy said. “I can tell. All of you adore him.”

      “That’s Heartbreak’s greatest skill. He’s the only man on earth who’s on friendly terms with all of his former girlfriends. As good as he is at romance—and he’s excellent—he’s the world’s best breaker-upper.”

      It was some comfort, Cathy decided. If she did get with the plan and play up to Zack, the worst that could happen would be that he’d let her down easy. Which wouldn’t be so bad. Really. She’d have plenty of company, and the consolation that at least she’d made the attempt. Maybe she’d be spoiled for other men, as Gwen said, but that would be nothing new.

      There had to be a loophole she was missing. “You’re saying Laurel doesn’t count?”

      “Oh, Laurel,” Julia scoffed. “Sure, she’s out for revenge. Her pride was hurt pretty spectacularly. But if Zack so much as crooked a finger at her, she’d go running into his arms, I guarantee it. Even if it was just for the thrill of planning another fancy wedding. Wouldn’t surprise me a bit if she’s saved the dress for a second go-round.”

      Cathy returned to the window and peeked out again. “You think?”

      This time, Julia’s laugh was faintly bittersweet. “Laurel’s been after Zack for as long as I can remember. And she’s determined to make a ‘good’ marriage. Not just anyone will do.”

      Still no sign of occupancy next door. “I’ve never understood why it wasn’t you he was marrying,” Cathy ventured. Julia was intelligent, personable, polished;