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chuckled to myself.
    The disaster was averted. At least for now.

Chapter Three

    Aubree

    I narrowed my eyes at him as he tried to weasel out of my question. I wanted a straight answer. “I know the town considers you bad just by association, although I could never figure out how someone’s reputation can be predetermined by one person way back in their family history. It’s the same logic used to shame Germans today into thinking that, because Hitler was a bad guy back in the 30’s and 40’s, and many of his generation looked the other way, they’re still guilty by association. We both know that isn’t true.”
    I wanted him to be either good or bad so I could pigeonhole him. But he was a chameleon, changing in the blink of an eye, the changes throwing me off balance and always leaving me wondering which Booker was the real Booker Outlaw.
    “I think you ought to make up your mind,” I said. “Are you a good guy or a bad guy?”
    He met my gaze, his eyes dark and shining. “That all depends on the situation, sugar,” he murmured, his voice low and rough—Southern smooth, persuading a woman to reach out and touch him, luring her closer.
    My heart pounded, nerve endings he had awakened and tantalized the night before stirring restlessly. I frowned at him. “A jack of all trades, huh? I don’t need to be saved.”
    Booker leaned across the bench, daring me to hold my ground. I didn’t move, though I couldn’t help it that my shoulders tensed and my jaw tightened.
    “You’re not a very good liar, Aubree,” he whispered.
    I shied away from that word. I abhorred lying, and I’d had to lie to Daniel about his brother, also concealing a greater sin while doing it. What did that make me? A hypocrite? I hated that my own morality was out of my control. But there was nothing I could do about that.
    On the other hand, Booker was near enough, and daring enough, to kiss me. The very idea touched off a dangerous, melting warmth in my middle. He confused and confounded me at a time when I needed to stay focused.
    “You better finish that treat fast, Booker,” I said sarcastically, “before your hot air melts it.”
    I only now got it that his arm was around me. I had been too focused on his face and what he was doing with that Fudgsicle to notice. Here we were out in public, too, right outside the post office. Enough people had seen that fight between Booker and Daniel that I was sure the story was moving like wildfire through the town. I was already in the local busybody news with my aunt in the hospital. It was high time I checked to see if my car was finished.
    “I’ve got to go, Booker, pick up my car, and visit Aunt Lottie.” I shrugged off his arm and rose, then draped my tote over my shoulder.
    He watched me with that lazy expression. Why did it have to look so damn sexy on him?
    “You couldn’t get a glass company to come out and fix it on your property?” He finished the ice cream and dropped the stick into the trash. I did the same.
    “It was more than the glass. My tires were slashed. I had to have it towed and repaired over at Simmons Garage.”
    He sat up straighter, that lazy look gone from his eyes. “Which would bring you into town.”
    I went still. His eyes met mine, and a chill of foreboding swept over my skin despite the heat of the day.
    “Your tires hadn’t been slashed yet when I left last night, which means it was done later. I don’t like that. Someone came back when you were there alone.”
    I didn’t like the sound of that either, but vandalism was rare in Suttontowne.
    “You need to give the sheriff that information, Aubree. In fact, I’ll walk you over there, and then to the garage.”
    “Will you hold my hand, too, when I cross the street?” I asked, going for a teasing grin.
    His eyes heated, as if he was more than willing to hold anything I’d let him. “You think I’m overreacting?”
    “You’re cute when you overreact.” Oh, shit . Had I said that out loud?