Mad About You

explanation for the colossal mess. You see, Jasmine, this morning I experienced my own personal earthquake...

Chapter Two

    JASMINE REACHED into her purse and made sure her phone was turned on in case Trey called her for lunch. She sighed. Such a call did not seem likely, considering the frantic pace of his campaign as election day drew near. Jasmine stepped up onto the sidewalk and put her hand on the familiar gargoyle doorknob of one of her favorite shops, Ladden's Castle. Her heart thumped when she realized someone was standing on the other side of the glass door, but she smiled warmly when she recognized Ladden.
    When the knob refused to yield beneath her hand, she glanced at her watch, noticing the Closed sign. "Am I too early?" she yelled. She needed a lift today and Ladden Sanderson never failed to boost her spirits. The man was always so optimistic, his unreserved laughter so cheering... usually. This morning, he wore a strange expression.
    "No," he yelled. "You're not too early."
    But when he made no motion to unlock the door, she laughed. "Am I too late?"
    Through the glass, she noticed how his dark hair curled up around the edge of the dusty baseball cap he wore. He bit his lower lip and shook his head. "No, you're not too late."
    Puzzled, Jasmine gave him a wry grin. "You got a girl in there?" Which wouldn't surprise her, she decided. Although she hadn't noticed a girlfriend hanging around on her frequent visits to his store, Ladden was attractive: tall, with dark eyes and a muscled, workingman's physique.
    Finally, he grinned, too. "No girl," he yelled, then slowly unlocked the door and swung it open.
    "For a minute, I thought you were trying to get rid—" Stopping just inside the door, she gaped at the clutter. "What on earth happened?"
    Remarkably calm, Ladden cleared his throat, offering a little shrug. "Spring cleaning?"
    She frowned. "It's almost November."
    He rubbed his big hands together. "Then I'm even more behind than I thought."
    Jasmine jammed her hands against her hips. "Ladden, what's going on? Were you burglarized?"
    "No—not exactly."
    "Then what, exactly?"
    "A quake?" His voice climbed in question, as if he weren't sure himself.
    "An earthquake?" Jasmine gasped. "When?"
    "Just before you arrived?" Again, he sounded uncertain.
    Her exasperation escalated. "Well, was it a quake, or wasn't it?"
    "Er, yeah, I think so."
    She blinked. "Weren't you here?"
    "Yeah."
    "And did the earth suddenly start to move and things begin to fall?"
    "Yeah."
    She had always considered Ladden very bright, but now she was starting to wonder. "Did you get hit on the head?"
    He laughed, swept off his hat, and ran his hands through his flattened hair. "No, but that would explain a lot of things, I guess. To be honest, I'm not sure what happened, but if it was a quake, this might not be the safest place for you to be right now."
    "Funny," she said thoughtfully, "I was having coffee nearby and didn't feel a thing." Her gaze fell on the remnants of black pottery littering the floor a few feet away. She gasped in dismay and scooped up a large broken chunk. "Oh, the McCoy punch bowl—I nearly bought it last week and now I could kick myself!"
    "Aw, it could have been much worse," Ladden said, putting his usual cheerful spin on things, she noted. "I haven't been back to the storeroom," he added, picking his way toward the rear, righting small pieces of toppled furniture as he went. "But the table I'm holding for you is sturdy, so it should be all right."
    Jasmine followed Ladden. Her heart felt heavy for him. He worked hard and ran a reputable business, and this bit of misfortune didn't seem fair. She stopped when a pile of broken glass blocked her path, then glanced up in surprise when she felt Ladden's hand on her arm.
    "Careful." His broad fingers felt warm and strong on her skin. She watched the muscles bunch in his tanned forearm as he assumed her weight to help her across, amazed at the thrill of awareness that barbed through her.
    "Thanks," she murmured when he released her. Ladden inclined his head, his easy smile crinkling his dark eyes around the corners and lighting his smooth face. Despite the dust, his uniform of jeans and T-shirt seemed to fit him especially well today, emphasizing his broad shoulders. Jasmine shook off the train of thought, telling herself it had been too long since she and Trey had spent a romantic evening together.
    They entered the brightly lit storeroom and Jasmine was pleased to