Hot Rocks

your little habits and quirks irritate me.”
    “God, you’re a strange woman.” He took her face in his hands. “Am I supposed to look forward to irritating you?”
    “And the bickering. Married people tend to bicker. I’m going to call you Maxfield when we bicker.”
    “Oh, hell.”
    “I think that’ll be fun. I really can’t wait until we fight about household expenditures or the color of the bathroom towels.” And as that was perfect truth, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him enthusiastically again. “Travel safe.”
    “I’ll be home by eight, earlier if I can manage it. I’ll call.” He pressed his face into the curve of her shoulder. “I’ll think of something to bicker about.”
    “That’s so sweet.”
    He eased away, leaned down to pet Henry, who was trying to nose between them. “Take care of my girl.” He hefted his briefcase, gave Laine a quick wink, then walked to his car.
    She waved him off, then, as promised, shut the door and locked it.
    She didn’t mind the early start. She’d go into town, take a closer look at her stock to see what she might want to transfer to her home. She’d take Henry for a romp in the park, then make some calls to see about repairing some of her damaged furniture, and make arrangements to have what she considered a lost cause removed.
    She could indulge herself by surfing some of the bridal sites on-line, drooling over gowns and flowers and favors. Laine Tavish was getting married! Delight had her doing a quick dance that inspired Henry to race in mad circles. She wanted to buy some bridal magazines, but needed to go to the mall for that, where she could buy them without causing gossip in town. Until she was ready for town gossip.
    She wanted a big, splashy wedding, and it surprised her to realize it. She wanted a gorgeous and ridiculously expensive dress. A once-in-a-lifetime dress. She wanted to spend hours agonizing over flowers and music and menus.
    Laughing at herself, she started upstairs to dress for the day. Snapping back into place, she thought. Her normal life had taken a hard, unexpected stretch, but it was snapping right back into the normal. Was there anything more normal than a woman dreaming about her wedding day?
    “Need to make lists, Henry. Lots and lots of lists. You know how I love that.”
    She buttoned up a tailored white shirt, slipped on trim navy pants. “Of course, we have to set a date. I’m thinking October. All those beautiful fall colors. Rusts and umbers and burnt golds. Rich colors. It’ll be a bitch to get things organized in time, but I can do it.”
    Imagining, she twisted her hair into a single French braid, tossed on a jacket with tiny blue-and-white checks.
    A romp in the park first, she decided, and slipped into comfortable canvas flats.
    She was halfway downstairs when Henry gave a series of alarmed barks and raced back up again.
    Laine froze where she was, then rolled to her toes as her heart slammed against her ribs. Before she could follow Henry’s lead, Jack strolled out of the living room to the bottom of the steps.
    “That dog go to get his gun?”
    “Dad.” She shut her eyes, caught her breath. “Why do you do this? Can’t you just knock on the damn door?”
    “This saves time. You always talk to the dog?”
    “Yes, I do.”
    “He ever talk back?”
    “In his way. Henry! It’s all right, Henry. He won’t hurt you.” She continued down, letting her gaze pass over the dyed hair, the rumpled suit. “Working, I see.”
    “In my way.”
    “Looks like you slept in that suit.”
    “I damn well did.”
    The bite in his tone had her lifting her brows. “Well, don’t snap at me, Jack. It’s not my fault.”
    “It is your fault. We need to have a talk. Elaine.”
    “We certainly do.” Voice crisp, she nodded, then turned on her heel and marched into the kitchen. “There’s coffee, and some apple muffins if you’re hungry. I’m not cooking.”
    “What are you doing with your life?”
    His explosion had Henry, who’d bellied in to test the waters, scramble back to the doorway.
    “What am I doing with my life? What am I doing?” She rounded on him, coffeepot in hand. Her heated response tore through Henry’s fear to find his courage. He barreled in, glued himself to Laine’s side and tried out a snarl in Jack’s direction.
    “It’s all right, Henry.” Pleased, and considerably surprised by his defense, Laine reached down to soothe the dog. “He’s not