Page 121 of Family Affair

Coco stepped back and out of his touch.

“I’ve got to go. I’m sorry.” He was tucking the phone in the pocket, his unwavering stare dark and hot and lying.

“No, you don’t have to apologize.” She sounded hoarse and strained.

One of his eyebrows shot up. “I don’t?”

“No. I mean, it’s okay, we don’t… I understand… You’re fine.”

“I’m fine?” The second eyebrow joined the first, and now he was looking at her with mild frustration. “No, I’m not fine. I’m ready to implode.”

She peered closer. He looked so darned composed. Well, apart from the hot look in his eyes that was almost frightening in its intensity.

The taste of him still lingered in her mouth.

“Where are you going?”

Immediately, the shutters came down to shield his expression. “I’ve got some business to take care of. Don’t worry about it. I’ll call you tomorrow.” He leaned in and kissed her on the mouth. “Don’t forget to lock the door.”

Coco smiled. “Will do.”

She was in motion before the door clicked shut after him.

She only had a couple of minutes, tops, before he crossed the lawn to his truck and drove away.

What in blue blazes are you doing?

Coco ignored her common sense, frantically wrestling off her robe. Not bothering with a bra or socks, she jumped into a pair of jeans, threw on a zip-up hoodie, and ran to the door, skidding around the corner to snatch her car key and her wallet from the purse. She grabbed a pair of running shoes by the laces, and was at the front door in a flash only to come to an abrupt stop.

No, better not to open the front door. Cade might notice.

She turned around and flew to the back of the house, hitting her little toe on a chair leg hard enough for her eyes to water. She cracked the back door open, slid through, and tiptoed around the house.

Peering around the corner, she saw the truck’s headlights come on and heard the rumble of the starting engine. Silent as a shadow, she vaulted over her mother’s prized rhododendrons and jumped into her car.

Up the street, the tail lights flashed red as Cade turned the corner and drove away.

Coco backed out and went after him.

She hung back to put more distance between her car and Cade’s big white truck, afraid he might notice, but balance was of essence: if she stayed too far, she might lose him.

The next turn took them to another busy road, and then to the highway.

Ungluing her sweaty hands from the steering wheel, Coco blew hair from her face and tried to loosen her tense back. They were traveling at a fast speed away from Atlanta.

She turned on the radio to drown out the weak sprouts of common sense that came to life in her brain, screamingYou’re nuts if you think you can pull it off!

But she had to do it. She had to know who Cade was meeting with. Ross had done a good job of planting suspicions.

Twenty minutes later, Cade took an exit at a small rural town. With mounting doubts, she exited after him. They drove deeper into the country, and she had to put more distance between their vehicles as the traffic became sparse. As unobtrusively as possible, she followed him past a small shopping center, a warehouse, and a gas station, and watched him arrive at what looked to be a very local and a very seedy bar.

Pulling up at the gas station, she observed Cade get out of his truck and disappear inside the bar in his unhurried, loose-limbed gait.

Coco eyed the establishment with great misgivings. Bright pink neon letters spelled out “Kitty’s Lounge” above the metal door. The variegated beer signs shone over the small windows, all three of them, that were painted opaque brown.

The clientele, judging by the several big trucks and motorcycles parked by, was as rough as the bar’s craggy brick walls. She wouldn’t be surprised if a strip show was in full swing, featuring a Kitty in a thong gyrating under the cheers of bearded bikers and burly farm boys.

But above all that, the bar was small. How she could enter it and remain unnoticed, she had no idea.