Stephanie Bond - Baby, Drive South

His frown deepened. “I calculated carefully for how many and the right size of water heaters to install. Up to two women in a room times ten gallons of water.”

“Ten gallons of water?” she asked, confused.

He nodded, then gestured to the fixtures. “We installed low-flow shower heads that deliver about eight gallons of water for a five-minute shower. I used ten gallons in the calculations to make sure there would be enough hot water for a hundred showers in a short period of time.”

He looked so proud of himself Nikki almost hated to burst his bubble. But when she could no longer hold it in, she laughed into her hand.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“I don’t know any woman who takes a five-minute shower.”

“Really?” He looked panicked, and in the space of a few seconds, Nikki realized how clueless this ladies’ man was about ladies. Obviously he had no sisters and had never been married, had never cohabitated with a girlfriend…and apparently, had never even taken a shower with a woman.

“Really,” she said, unable to hide her amusement.

He scratched his head. “This isn’t good.”

Nikki almost felt sorry for him…but didn’t. “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” She didn’t add she wouldn’t be around to observe the outcome. Nikki walked back to the main room and stood next to the open door, hoping he would follow. He did, slowly, navigating around the woven throw rugs on the bare wood floors. Every time he swung his body forward on the crutches, the thick muscles in his arms contracted.

Nikki had to avert her gaze.

He stopped next to her bed and leaned over, then used the rubber tip of his crutch to lift the muslin bed skirt. “Is your pussycat hiding?” he asked, craning his neck.

Nikki crossed her arms. “Goodbye, Mr. Armstrong.”

The hallway was filled with the sounds of the women leaving their rooms, presumably for the barbecue. Their voices were high-pitched, punctuated with giggles and the click-clack of sandals and high heels.

Porter glanced toward the hallway, then back to her with those piercing blue eyes. “Actually, doc, I came to ask if you’d walk down to the barbecue with me. I’m sorry for the things I said earlier—it was a bad joke. I’m really not such a terrible guy once you get to know me.”

Nikki hesitated, allowing her imagination to indulge in the fantasy of spending the evening “getting to know” Porter Armstrong. Any red-blooded woman would relish being in the company of this big, good-looking Southern boy for a few hours, and she was human. And the intensity of his kiss still teased her mouth like a mischievous shadow. But warning bells sounded in her head. That kiss hadn’t been intended for her—her mouth had simply been within reach. And she’d heard the man’s unflattering opinion of her when he thought she wasn’t listening. Her relationship with Darren had taught her to beware of charming kisses and the men attached to them…and Porter Armstrong had confirmed that lesson.

Reminded of her resolve to leave, Nikki lifted her chin. “No, thank you.”

Porter’s smile fell. He seemed to be at loose ends, obviously unaccustomed to being turned down, especially—she speculated—by someone who looked like her. It was probably more common for women to melt into a puddle of ooze at his feet. “Oh…okay.”

Suddenly Rachel Hutchins appeared in the doorway, with Nigel at her feet at the end of a pink leash. The woman was stunningly sexy in a short denim skirt and tight yellow T-shirt, her golden hair flowing around her shoulders. “I thought I heard your voice, Porter. What are you doing up here?” Her voice had a suspicious lilt. Even Nigel glanced back and forth between Porter and Nikki.

“Mr. Armstrong was checking the hot water in my bathroom,” Nikki said quickly.

“Oh, it’s perfect in my room,” Rachel gushed. “I took the longest, hottest shower. It was amazing.”

Porter seemed mesmerized. And since even Nikki was visualizing Rachel standing naked under a spray of steaming water, she could only imagine where his mind had gone.

“Rachel,” Nikki said brightly to interrupt the uncomfortable moment, “Mr. Armstrong is heading to the barbecue—maybe you could walk with him to make sure he doesn’t fall?”

Rachel beamed. “I’d be happy to.”

Porter took one swinging step forward, then looked back to Nikki, as if he suddenly remembered she was there. “Come with us, doc.”

“Maybe later,” she lied, shutting the door to move him along. He looked as if he might protest, but she succeeded in shepherding him into the hall and closed the door on the happy couple. Nikki stood with her ear to the door and listened until the thump, thump of his crutches meeting the floor faded. Rachel’s tinkling laughter reached back and curled under the door, mocking Nikki. I’m just like you…only prettier.

Nikki indulged a barb of envy, then sat down and penned a note to the Armstrong brothers saying she’d decided Sweetness wasn’t for her after all, and propped it on the table. When silence settled over the house, she gathered both pieces of luggage, opened the bedroom door and stuck out her head to make sure all was quiet. When she was convinced she was alone in the house, she carried her suitcases into the hall, closed the door and stole downstairs.

Moving stealthily, Nikki exited through the front door, crossed the shadowed porch and hurried in the direction of her extended van.

Darkness was settling quickly. A light high on a pole in front of the boardinghouse illuminated fluttering moths and guided her footsteps to the side of the road. Then she picked her way down the row of vehicles to her van. Insects chanted in rounds, the noises swelling, then falling away to build again. The unbearable heat of the summer day had given way to a breezy evening. She attributed the wide swing in the temperature to their altitude.

She swallowed hard at the thought of descending the mountain road with nothing more than her headlights and the glow of the three-quarter moon to guide her. Maybe she should wait until morning….

Across the road and beyond a tree line, voices, music and the radiance of a fire indicated the barbecue was getting underway. The good-time sounds pulled at her, but the suitcases in her hands propelled her forward. If she waited until morning, there would be confrontations, explanations, excuses…drama she didn’t want or need.

Especially when it came to a certain pair of cobalt-blue eyes.

After loading her suitcases in the back, Nikki climbed into the driver’s seat that was uncomfortably warm from the build-up of the day’s heat. She zoomed down the window to let the stale air escape.

In the side mirror, the amazing watercolor sunset was melting onto a distant mountain range. Nikki paused a few seconds to drink in the matchless scenery. If this town ever took root, it would blossom in the most glorious of surroundings.

Then, nursing a tiny pang of regret, she started the engine, turned the van around and pulled away.

From a rocking chair in the shadows of the porch, Porter observed Dr. Salinger pulling away in her long van. Damn it, Marcus and Kendall had been right about her hightailing it back north at the first chance. Sneaking out when everyone was preoccupied, without so much as a “nice to know you.”

Truth be known, his feelings were a little hurt.

Porter pulled at his chin and waited, counting off the seconds the way he and his brothers used to do when they were little, trying to figure out how far away storms were by measuring the time lapse between a flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder. One Mississippi…two Mississippi…three Mississippi…

The van’s brake lights came on before four Mississippi, then the engine sputtered and died.