LITMIR.BIZ

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pizza and a camisole. She could picture it now. The giddiness of a few minutes ago suddenly vanished. She made a show of following the ball game, even though the outcome was already a foregone conclusion.

      Dave returned a few minutes later. Eve reached for the check. “Here, let me.” Paying the tab might help to erase her guilt at poaching another woman’s man.

      “Don’t be ridiculous.” Carter signaled the bartender with his index finger.

      “No, I insist.” Eve bent down to reach the nylon satchel at her feet and set it on the counter. She pulled out a beach towel, a racing cap, goggles, a glasses case, sunscreen.

      Carter eyed the growing pile. “I see you like to travel light.”

      Eve found a tortoiseshell barrette. “So that’s where that disappeared to.” She stuck her nose back in the bag and foraged some more. “Ah hah!” She held a black wallet aloft.

      Dave looked at the small mound in front of Eve. “You planning a garage sale or something?”

      “Or something. Here, I’ll take that.” Eve motioned to the bill in his hand.

      “No, it’s my treat,” Carter countered and took the bill from Dave.

      “That’s crazy.” She looked at Carter and realized immediately he wasn’t going to budge. “Well, at least let’s split it.” She held her hand up. “Let’s see the total.”

      “Please, Phillies fans never go halvesies.” He held the check tight to his chest.

      “Halvesies? You sound like you’re playing jacks.” She waggled her fingers toward the bill.

      “Jacks? Are you questioning my manhood?”

      No, there was no question about his manhood. Eve hesitated. What was really at stake here? Twenty bucks? Her pride? Her sense of guilt? Not to mention an unresolved wager. “Well, if you put it that way.” The check was the least of her worries. “Thanks.”

      Carter turned to Dave and handed him some bills. “Keep the change.”

      Eve slipped down off the stool and scooped everything into her bag, careful to retrieve her glasses and put them in the case. She stood for a moment, watching Carter fish his keys out of his shorts and stand up. This was it—the end to her evening with Carter Moran. He stepped forward. She cleared her throat. “Well, thanks again.” She turned to head for the front door.

      “Ah, Eve?”

      She swiveled around.

      “It’s getting dark. I’ll walk you across the street to the pool parking lot.” He grabbed the pizza box off the bar.

      “No, that’s all right. I walked.”

      “Then I’ll give you a lift. I’m parked out back.” Carter pointed with his thumb toward the door at the rear of the bar. His green eyes beckoned.

      And Eve wondered why this seriously sexy man was offering to drive her home, rather than rushing back to a beautiful woman with a brand-new sheer camisole. Maybe it was just the Good Samaritan attitude that went along with being a small-town cop? It must be hell on a love life, she thought. “You sure it’s not out of your way?” Even though the sun was going down, it would still be a hot mile-or-so walk home.

      “I live in town, too, so it’s no big deal.”

      “You sure? First a free meal. Now a ride. I’m overwhelmed.” She fell in step as they walked to the exit.

      “Don’t be so hasty. You haven’t seen my car.” Carter held open the back door.

      She felt the temperature difference as soon they stepped outside. From arctic air-conditioning, they’d entered a tropical soup. She wiped the beads of sweat that instantly formed on her forehead. “If it’s got four wheels and air conditioning, I’ll take it.”

      “On a good day I can guarantee the four wheels.” Carter stopped in front of a decrepit Toyota truck.

      Eve dubiously surveyed the vehicle. She thought it was red, but given the rust, she wasn’t sure. It looked as if duct tape and supreme intervention were the only things holding the bumper to the front end. “I take it this is not an official cop car.” She gingerly pushed down on the handle to the passenger-side door. Nothing happened.

      “It’s this cop’s car. And give it a good yank,” he said as he bounded into the driver’s side.

      Eve gave it a good yank. The door gave way. So did the handle. She shook her head and stepped tentatively on the running board. “Is this thing going to hold me?”

      “Maybe I should have warned you to stop with two pieces of pizza.” He leaned over and scooped a copy of the New York Times and a cell phone off the seat. He threw them in the bed of the truck, which was covered by a white truck cap.

      Eve looked at the cracked seat. “Do I need to get shots before entering?” She clambered up and looked for the seatbelt shoulder strap. She wasn’t taking any chances.

      “Hold this on your lap, would you?” He passed her the pizza box.

      Eve scrunched her face at the thick layer of dust covering the dashboard. “I can see why you don’t want to put it on any available surface.” She gave him the door handle in exchange for the box.

      He threw it in the back along with the newspaper and the cell phone.

      Eve turned around, but decided not to investigate too closely. “Handy filing system you got there.”

      Carter put his keys in the ignition and stopped. “On second thought. Hand over the pizza.” She did. He tossed it in the back where it thudded silently. “There. It’s now filed under ‘B.”’

      She was confused. “‘B’? I would have thought ‘P’ for pizza.”

      He turned and grinned at her sideways. “‘B’ for ‘bet.’ And I think it’s time I collected.”

      5

      “YOU THINK SO?”

      “I know so.”

      “I’m not sure we ever resolved the last question?”

      Carter tilted his head at an angle. “You and I both know the answer.”

      Eve hesitated.

      “You’re not the kind of person who lies, Eve.”

      She shook her head.

      “So?” He leaned one forearm across the steering wheel and waited.

      “What about the dog, Simone’s dog? And the pizza? And even more important, what about the camisole?”

      “I’m sure the dog will like the pizza very much. I’m not so sure he has any opinion about the camisole.”

      “But what about you?”

      “You need my opinion on a camisole?” He looked puzzled, and then the light dawned. “I get it….” His voice trailed off and then he laughed. “Listen, I can assure you, Simone and I are just friends. Anything more would be seriously bad for my health, trust me. Okay?” He solemnly held up his left hand. “Scout’s honor.”

      Eve coughed. “It’s the right hand.” She pointed to his raised salute.

      He exchanged hands. “It’s the thought that counts.”

      She looked out the side window. What was she getting herself into here? She looked back at him. A lock of hair had tumbled forward across his brow. The contours of his strong shoulders strained against the fragile seams of his shirt. She wet her lips. His seams weren’t the only fragile things in the truck cab. “No hands.”

      He nodded slowly. “A deal’s a deal. If it makes you feel any better, there’s probably a

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