Manhunting in Mississippi (8 page)

“No.”

He looked at her considering. “It’l hit you in about fifteen minutes, thirty max.”

Piper half closed her puffy eyes in frustration, fighting the urge to cry. She waved toward the over-the-counter al ergy medicine. “Can you ring me up?”

Gary suddenly seemed fascinated with his size fifteen high-top sneakers. “If you can stick around for a few minutes while I restock the Odor Eaters, I’l be glad to drive you home.” He glanced up and smiled shyly, triggering a memory of Janet saying that Gary and his longtime girlfriend had recently split up. He fidgeted. “Honest, Piper, you shouldn’t be behind the wheel after taking that medication.”

Piper’s mind raced as she struggled for a graceful way to get out of the situation.

“Thanks, pal, but the lady already has a ride home.”

Piper turned to see Ian Bentley standing at the end of the aisle, dressed country-club casual and holding a tube of toothpaste. He smiled at her, showing off his pearly whites.

CHAPTER FIVE

Always carry protection—such as hair spray or a nail file—in case a suitor makes untoward advances.

GARY NARROWED
his eyes at Ian. “Piper, do you know this guy?”

Completely dismayed at the lifting of her heart, Piper nodded. “He’s a…a business associate of mine.” Ian Bentley had invaded her thoughts so thoroughly since he left, her

afternoon performance in the lab had been a comedy of errors. She couldn’t remember when she’d tossed out more unusable batches.

Ian walked up to the counter, handed his purchase to Gary and withdrew his wal et. “I’m headed your way,” he said, glancing at Piper. “I’d be glad to drop you off.”

Since she was relatively sure he was lying, and since the idea sounded so appealing, Piper felt compel ed to decline. “I don’t think—”

“It’s the least I can do to make up for this morning.” He smiled, and her resistance began to crumble. Acutely aware of Gary watching them, Piper wet her lips. “But my van—”

“I’l drop it off when Dad and I close up,” Gary offered eagerly, then slid his gaze back to Ian and lifted his chin. “That way I can check on Piper when I leave the keys.”

“Problem solved,” Ian agreed cheerful y, lifting his palms.

Since the arrangement seemed safely unromantic, and too tired, itchy and throbbing to argue, Piper relented with a nod. After al , it wasn’t like either man was going to come on to her the way she looked now. She thanked Gary and handed over her keys. Stifling the urge to scratch her puffy face, she quickly paid for the antihistamine and preceded Ian out of the store.

“What happened to you?” he asked as she walked under his arm out the front door of the pharmacy. At nearly six-thirty, the temperature stil hovered in the low nineties, and the humidity hung unrelenting.

Piper smirked. “I’m accident prone, remember?”

He frowned, peering at her face. Feeling a bit light-headed, Piper wondered how much more splotchy she’d become, then realized she was getting used to looking bad in front

of Ian Bentley—not that it mattered.

Without stopping, he clasped her wrist and turned over her arm, revealing an expanse of red, bumpy skin. His touch heightened the tingly sensation skittering across her tender flesh. “You didn’t get a rash from fal ing in the rain in the parking lot.”

“It’s just al ergies,” she said, pul ing away her arm for a good scratch. “I’l be fine by morning.” Despite the heat, Ian looked terrific in a long-sleeve shirt with the sleeves rol ed up, and pleated khaki chinos.

She stopped and waited while he unlocked the passenger-side door of his rental car, setting into motion the muscles in his forearm. He was left-handed, she noticed. His

wedding band glinted in the ebbing sunlight, the diamonds winking a reminder of his status. Her heart fel into an erratic rhythm. When he opened the door, she hesitated. “I’m counting on the fact that you’re not a serial kil er.”

He snapped his fingers. “I
knew
there was something I left out of my introduction.”

“I’m usual y more careful than this,” she explained lamely as she lowered herself into the leather seat.

Ian gave her a wry smile. “I’l bet you don’t even lock your front door.” He closed the door, and Piper watched him as he circled in front of the car. The man was absolutely too sure of himself.

“I’l have you know,” she said when he opened the door and swung into his own seat, “that the front door to my house is safely secured.” Then she smiled sheepishly. “It’s the back door I leave unlocked.”

The rumble of his laughter fil ed the interior of the car. “I’l file away that information for future reference,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

His tone was teasing, but Piper gripped her paper bag of drugs tighter in her lap. The air hummed with tension, as if she didn’t already feel prickly enough.

He started the engine. “Have you had dinner?”

“Uh, no. I was going to hit the drive-through on the way home.”

“Which drive-through?”

She grinned and pointed left. “
The
drive-through.”

Ian chuckled, then pul ed onto Main Street and fol owed her directions the short distance to the fast-food restaurant. “Think I’l get a bite myself,” he said.

“Where are you staying?”

“Little motel on the edge of town. Baker’s?”

“Baxter’s.”

He nodded. “Right.”

“Not exactly the Holiday Inn,” she observed.

Ian shrugged. “Clean sheets, good mattress, nice stationery.”

She’d expected him to put down the little motor inn, to put down the whole town. Piper almost hoped he would so she could dislike him. Then she stopped—since when had

snobs become more unlikable than flirtatious married men? She shook her head to clear it and blamed her mental lapse on the medicine she felt filtering through her body like cool menthol. Food would slow down the absorption of the painkil er—not a bad idea at this point, despite her aching ankle.

He rol ed down the window and ordered two burgers, fries and drinks, refusing her offer to pay, but handing her the bags of food to plunder while the cashier made change.

Stil spoiling for an argument, she said, “I can’t believe a big-city restaurateur is actual y eating fast food.”

Unfazed, he lifted himself out of the seat slightly to return his wal et to his back pocket. “Don’t forget, I own a few fast-food franchises myself.”

A few dozen,
she corrected silently. Piper dragged her attention away from the muscles flexing beneath the fabric of his pants. “I know, but I guess I never thought you’d actual y eat at one of them.”

He settled back into the seat and gave her a deadly grin. “You’ve been thinking about me?”

Red flags sprang up behind her eyelids. Sirens sounded in her ears. Determined to keep her cool, Piper pursed her lips and shoved a burger into his hand. “Instead of putting words in
my
mouth, how about putting this in
yours?
”

He winked good-naturedly and unwrapped his burger with one hand while steering with the other. “Where to?”

“I thought you were headed my way,” she reminded him, placing an order of French fries within reach and settling their drinks into cup holders.

One side of his mouth jerked upward. “I am—as soon as you tel me which way that is.”

Piper had to smile since he’d spared her from Gary Purdue’s good intentions. “Left at the light, past the tire center, right at Ms. Gardner’s house, right again at the school-bus turnaround—”

“Um, perhaps you can tel me as we go along,” he cut in with a laugh. Ian took a sizable bite out of his burger, then pul ed onto Main Street behind an old pickup truck with a bed ful of hay and a half-dozen children. “Good burger,” he said thickly.

She nodded slowly and exhaled in relief—disaster diverted. He felt the chemistry between them, too, but she had ultimate control, she kept tel ing herself. No matter how much he made her brain and body short-circuit, and no matter how much she needed that bonus, she would not—repeat, would not—become involved with a married man.

Glancing at his profile out of the corner of her eye, she bit into her burger with a vengeance, then stared straight ahead.

Lined up with their backs against the truck cab, the kids were al redheaded and obviously related. They grinned at Piper and Ian, then waved shyly. Her il mood dissolved like sugar in water.

“Looks like a great place to raise kids,” Ian observed.

Piper noticed he was thumbing his wedding ring while they waited for the light to turn. Did he have children? Probably, she thought, grabbing a fry.

“I suppose,” she mumbled, feeling a little queasy. She always ate too fast—a bad habit developed in the lab.

“Did you grow up here?”

She shook her head as they began moving again. “No—I grew up in Westin, a few hours north. But I spent summers here with my grandmother, so I’m considered a native.”

“Are your parents stil in Westin?”

Piper sucked cola through a straw, then delivered her stock answer. “I don’t have a father, but my mother lives near there.”
Or wherever her current boyfriend wants to lie down.

“And your grandmother?”

Just the thought of Gran lifted Piper’s spirits. “She’s stil in Mudvil e.” Gran would like Ian, Piper was sure. Oh, except for one little detail…

“You must be close to her.”

“She’s the reason I’m here,” Piper admitted.

“Ah,” he said, nodding. “The answer to the riddle.”

“What riddle?”

He glanced over and made a clicking sound with his cheek. “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”

Certainly not the most breathtaking compliment she’d received, but his words affected her nonetheless. “Making desserts for you,” she said, striving to keep the conversation light.

“Touché.”

She busied herself by taking another fry. “Besides, Mudvil e isn’t that bad.”
Unless you’re looking for a man.

“Oh, I know—I’ve been exploring.”

She raised her arm and indicated where he should turn. “And did you find us to your liking?”

He made the turn, then locked gazes with her. “Let’s just say I’ve been pleasantly surprised by my discoveries.”

Piper glanced back to the road and pressed a finger against her temple, as if she could reorder the thoughts being processed inside. The sexual draw coming from Ian across

the console resounded almost tangibly. His faded aftershave tickled her al ergy-stricken nose—she was quite sure an untimely sneeze would be forthcoming. A five o’clock shadow darkened his square jaw. The temperature of her crawling skin rose with every chest-expanding breath he took. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

“Feeling better?” he asked, lifting his cup for a drink.

“Yeah,” she lied. “The food helped.” Piper took another bite, forcing herself to chew slowly and breathe deeply. Hormones aside, she stil had to win this man’s business.

Then a terrible thought occurred to her. Did Ian Bentley make a habit of traveling around, using his leverage as a powerful customer to engage in extramarital affairs? Did he expect her to sleep with him to get his business?

“You look like you’re in pain.”

She swung her head to the side to look at him, and managed a shaky smile. “Oh, wel , I guess I’m tired.”

“If your pharmacy buddy is correct, you shouldn’t have any problem going to sleep.” He wadded up his burger wrapper.

Piper held open one of the bags for him to deposit the trash. She definitely felt woozy.

“He must be a good friend of yours,” he remarked.

“Who, Gary? I’ve known him for years.”

“He knows where you live.”

Was he fishing? Piper kept her gaze riveted on the road. “Turn here. Everyone knows where everyone lives in Mudvil e.”

She folded two fries into her mouth and chewed during the uncomfortable silence. Final y Piper swal owed and asked, “So, Ian, how did you get into the restaurant business?”

Ian pursed his lips and shook his head, as if he had nothing interesting to share. “I started flipping burgers for gas money when I was sixteen. It didn’t take me long to figure out who was making al the money. I worked my butt off, sacrificed things most teenage boys want and scraped together enough cash to put a down payment on a franchise of my own about the time I should have graduated from col ege.”

“You bought a franchise al by yourself?”

“Nope. My folks mortgaged their house to come up with the rest of the money, and I wasn’t about to let them down.”

“I assume you repaid their mortgage,” she said dryly.

He grinned. “About six months later, then I bought them a new home in Daytona.”

Piper glanced heavenward in the darkening interior of the car. The man was gorgeous, intel igent, rich, hardworking
and
a good son. She’d known him one stinking day and he’d already displayed nearly al the desirable characteristics listed in her grandmother’s manhunting manual. And who knew—naked, he’d probably get an extra check mark or two.

She inhaled sharply at the direction of her rambling, scrambled mind. “Turn here.” She pointed, her hand shaking. “About a half mile down, mine wil be the fourth town house on the right.”

He raised one dark eyebrow. “A town house? In Mudvil e?”

“It’s real y an old shotgun-style house with a postage stamp–size yard.”

“Shotgun?”

“The front door is in line with the back door,” she explained, gesturing when the houses came into view. “The mayor’s daughter bought an entire row and renovated them for

rentals. Mine’s the blue one.”

“Nice,” he commented as he slowly wheeled into her narrow driveway. “Very nice.” Smiling, he leaned forward and peered out the window.

Strangely buoyed, Piper silently gave thanks for the weekends she’d spent planting purple petunias and yel ow barberry shrubs around the foundation of the little house—

despite having to endure Lenny’s ghastly company every dirt-grubbing minute.

At the thought of her nosy neighbor, she slid her gaze to the porch next door. Deserted, thank God. She’d pay penance later by going over to wish Mrs. Kern a happy birthday…