Page 17 of To Catch a Latte Thick as Thieves

“To make Anne realize what she was going to lose,” Stewart explained. “I knew that once she saw me with another woman, she’d come around.”

“She did,” he said.

“Really? What did she say?” Stewart asked, his pale blue eyes glittering with triumph.

“She said she felt sorry for Tiffany.” Fisher swallowed the last of his beer and left Stewart gaping like an open-mouthed bass. He crossed the yard, following the bright yellow dress. She was flitting from group to group, fetching and carrying like a perfect hostess. For reasons Fisher couldn’t understand, he wanted to get her away from here. He found her refilling a coffee cup for an older woman.

“Are you sure that’s decaf, honey?” the old woman asked.

“Yes, Mrs. Hampton,” Annie said.

“Well, that’s good otherwise I’ll be up all night. It’s bad enough I’m getting up three and four times a night to trek to the facility.” The old woman sighed. “Don’t ever get old, dear.”

“I’ll try not to,” Annie promised. Turning, she caught sight of Fisher and smiled.

Fisher put his hand around her elbow and pulled her away from the crowd. Her hair was coming undone and a flush of exertion filled her cheeks. As the evening breeze sent a long curl drifting across her cheek, Fisher couldn’t help but push it away with a fingertip. He heard Annie’s quick hitch of breath and his eyes met hers.

There it was, that indefinable spark that ignited between them every time their eyes met. Fisher felt his insides tighten, clenching like a fist. His gaze lowered to her lips. They were slightly parted as if she’d been caught by surprise.

Before he could think it over, debate the pros and cons, or remember that she was a suspect, Fisher felt his head lower to hers. He could feel her breath against his lips; it was erratic and warm and lured him like a promised caress.

“Annie!” An ear-splitting cry jerked Fisher back as if he were on a leash.

Annie blinked at him, but then turned to find the person who had yelled for her.

Eve was making her way toward them. “I’m going home now. A bride needs her beauty rest.”

“Not you, Eve. You’re going to be gorgeous,” Annie assured her friend. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No, thanks,” the bride said. “I want you to get some rest, too. Now remember, we’re meeting at the hairdresser’s at two.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I drop off the cake at the reception hall,” Annie promised, giving her friend a quick hug and kiss good-night.

Fisher and Annie followed the bride and her parents to their car. As Eve climbed into the car behind her parents, Tony gave her a passionate kiss causing the assembled guests to whoop and cheer.

“You’d better be there tomorrow,” he chided his bride with a grin.

“Don’t you worry. A blizzard in Phoenix wouldn’t stop me,” she promised.

“Isn’t that sweet?” Annie asked Fisher as he helped her into his Jeep.

“You’re a sucker for love, aren’t you?” he asked, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“I’m a sap for sure,” she agreed. “I cry at the drop of a hankie.”

“Are you having second thoughts about your breakup with Stew? He sounds as if he’d marry you in a heartbeat.”

“I’m sure he would,” she agreed while buckling her seat belt. “But only because he thinks he can turn The Coffee Break into a national chain. Even if I were in love with him, which I’m not, I’d never marry him.”

“Yes, you would,” Fisher said, starting the engine.

“No, I wouldn’t,” she argued.

“You think that now, but when you fall in love it’ll be different,” he said.

“No,” she repeated more firmly. “I like the arrangement your parents have. I mean look at them. They’ve been together for thirty-five years. I bet if they’d gotten married they would’ve divorced a long time ago.”

“No, they wouldn’t,” he said, as he paused at a red light. “They’re both eccentric. No one else could put up with them.”