Jennifer Crusie - GETTING RID OF BRADLEY

“Rat Bradley,” Zack said, and Anthony gave up and pulled him to his feet and out the door.

TINA BROUGHT HER a baseball bat.

“Thank you.” Lucy looked at it doubtfully. “You haven’t signed me up for intramurals or anything, have you?”

“Of course not. It’s for your protection.”

Tina marched through the living room and dining room and into the kitchen, while Lucy trailed behind her with the bat. She dumped two bags of Chinese food on the kitchen table, and then took the bat from Lucy and propped it by the back door. “If anybody tries to break in here, you hit him with this. Hard.”

“Tina, nobody is trying to kill me. That’s Zack’s fantasy, not reality.”

“Tell me about it.” Tina opened the first carton of food.

An hour later, she was still curious. “So he really thinks somebody was shooting at you?” she said as she polished off her Mu Shu pork.

“Yes. Isn’t that the dumbest thing you’ve ever heard?”

Tina thought about it. “No. Not if there were marks on the locks, too. He’s right. You stay inside.”

Lucy shoved her plate away, exasperated. “What is it with you two? I don’t even talk to my dogs the way you two talk to me.”

“Well, you should,” Tina glared at Einstein who was eyeing the Mu Shu pork carton. “They’d have better manners. So what’s Zack like?”

“Erratic. Quick temper. Never still. Gorgeous blue eyes. Very short attention span. Not my type at all.” She stopped and then added primly, “Although I have had some inappropriate thoughts about him. Very inappropriate. Not that I’ll ever do anything about it. Still, the dogs like him.” She pulled her plate back and scooped up some garlic chicken while she contemplated Zack. “He’s sort of bossy, but I like him.”

Tina grinned. “Imagine my surprise. I’ve changed my mind. I think you should do something about it.”

“About what?”

“About this thing you have for Zack.”

Lucy shook her head. “Not a chance. My hair alone would send any sane man screaming into the street.”

Tina looked at Lucy’s moss-colored hair. “Maybe if you wear a lot of forest green. Maybe he’s a Tolkien fan.”

“Maybe I’ll kill myself,” Lucy said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tina said. “I brought Haagen-Dazs. Triple Brownie Overload.”

“Maybe I’ll live,” Lucy said.

WHEN TINA FINALLY LEFT Lucy’s house at eleven, Zack still hadn’t called.

It was for the best, Lucy knew. After all, she’d just gotten divorced. After all, he was too much of a loose screw to ever be good for her.

After all, her hair looked like a bad carpet.

“Tomorrow is another day,” she told the dogs. “And it’s the first day of the rest of my independence. The heck with Zack Warren. The heck with all men. It’s easier to be independent without them anyway.”

The dogs looked skeptical.

“Oh, forget it,” Lucy said. “Let’s go to bed.”

“OF COURSE, IT WON’T GO into court,” Anthony said at eight the next morning as he hung up the phone. “But Patricia and the lab send you their best wishes and the considered opinion that the bullet from the blonde is a match for the bullet that missed you.”

“I think it’s time we talked to Lucy.” Zack picked up the phone and dialed. “I was going over there later today, anyway.”

“That explains why you shaved two days in a row. We’re all grateful.”

Zack ignored him. “Come on, pick it up,” he said into the phone. “I told you not to answer the door. It’s okay to pick up the phone.” But after the twelfth ring, his annoyance faded and turned to cold fear. “She’s not answering.”

Anthony grabbed his jacket. “Let’s go. Looks like she opened the door, after all.”

Lucy tried to run off her anger in the cold Saturday-morning light. After all, it was a waste of time to be angry with a man because he didn’t call or come over when he said he was going to. Men never did.

Especially men like Zack, who ran around one minute shouting, “Somebody’s trying to kill you,” and the next minute forgot you existed. If he was so worried about her being killed, why hadn’t he called all day yesterday? Him and his instincts. As Mrs. Dover would say, Ha.

She turned to jog back down her street, and when she looked up at her own house, Zack was on the front porch.

Her first thought was that he was even more magnetic than she’d remembered him. He seemed, even from a distance, to be vibrating with energy.

Her second was that her hair was probably even stranger in the daylight than it was in artificial light.

Her third, when she got closer, was that he wasn’t vibrating with energy, he was vibrating with anger. Well, the heck with him. So what if he was angry. So was she. He hadn’t called. He’d just left her there like a potted plant, and he hadn’t called. Who did he think he was? Who the heck did he think he was?

Yeah.

He came to meet her as she walked up the steps, and he looked wonderful-tall, dark, and enraged.

“You shaved.” She was still breathless from running. “And your lip looks much better. You look much more reliable.”

“Reliable? Me? What about you?” Zack stabbed his finger at her. “I told you to stay put!”

“Listen.” Lucy tried to keep an edge on her anger. It was hard because she really was glad to see him, and he really was gorgeous. She put her hands on her hips and concentrated. “Listen, you. You told me it was for one night and then you’d call. You didn’t call. Which isn’t surprising because you’re a man, and men never call, but still, in this situation, you would think…”

“I’ve been out of my mind with worry about you,” Zack said through his teeth. “I had you pictured dead in a pool of blood in front of the fireplace. And now you show up alive, and I want to kill you myself.”

“And anyway, who do you mink you are, saying ‘Stay put’ like I’m some…I don’t know…trained dog, or something.”

“I thought you were dead.” Zack grabbed her arm. “I thought somebody had grabbed you. I thought I was going to have to raise your damn dogs…”

“Why would you have to raise my dogs? I just needed exercise.” Lucy tried to tug away from him. “I ran two miles. Big deal. Let go of me.”

“My partner is next door right now, calling for help to look for your body.” Zack tightened his grip. “I’m so damn mad at you… Just…get in that house.”

“Now wait just a minute!” Lucy began, but then she stopped, distracted by the streak of yellow that blurred past her feet. “Look out, Phoebe’s loose again.”

In an instant, the cat had raced across the lawn and dived into the window of Lucy’s car.

“No!” Lucy jerked free from Zack. “That’s it. That’s the last straw.” She started across the lawn to the car, and Zack grabbed her sweatshirt and yanked her to the cold ground, falling on her as he rolled them both down the hill into Mrs. Dover’s driveway.

They landed with a thud, Lucy on the bottom, and all the breath went out of her lungs as Zack fell on top of her. “Hey,” she said, but all that came out was a whisper.

He was covering her with his body, one hand braced over her head, listening for something. He looked exactly the same as he had the day he’d flung her into the alley-the same anvil jaw, only clean-shaven now, cocked away from her at the same angle while he tensed against her.

Just like in the alley.

Lucy stopped trying to shove him off and clutched at his arms. “Zack? Was somebody shooting at you again?”

He looked down at her, focused and sharp. “I thought you said you always rolled your car windows up. Because of Phoebe.”