“You sell real estate at home in Lyntacky, but there is no way that income would allow you to stay here.” Blue pointed at the hotel.
“Come inside and have a drink with me, and I might tell you what I’ve been up to.”
“I don’t think so. I need to get home.”
“You work at one of the fashion houses, don’t you? How come you’re not there at 2:00 p.m. on a Monday?” Jay asked.
“None of your business.”
“Come on, Blue, we’re friends who come from a crazy little town that loves square dancing. Have a drink with me.”
She was clearly silent for too long, because he wrestled the box out of her hands.
“If you want this back, you have to come inside and find me.”
“Jay, give that back. That’s theft!” He ignored her and kept walking, those long legs taking him away from her.
She watched him walk through the glass circular door and then disappear.
“Well, hell,” Blue muttered.
Chapter 2
Jay ordered some drinks and food at the bar because his meeting had run longer than he’d thought it would, and his stomach was rumbling. He found a seat that faced the door, placing the box he’d taken from Blue Jay McAllister under the small table.
Something was off with her, he just didn’t know what. Digging through his memory as he looked around the interior of the hotel bar, checking for anyone he might recognize, he couldn’t remember hearing any gossip about her lately.
Blue Jay was one of the McAllisters from Lyntacky. Birdie, her sister, who had married a Duke, the family he was closest to, had told him she was a designer for some high-end fashion house in New York and was climbing up the ranks because she was good at her job.
The woman he’d seen when he stepped out of that car had looked pale and beaten. Something he’d never thought to associate with the fiery women Jay knew. She’d always seemed fierce to him. Strong willed, and rarely vulnerable.
Shooting another look at the door, he didn’t see her. She’d come for that box because it had Birdie’s homemade pencilholder, and the fact that, years after it was given to her, Blue still had it told him it was important.
McAllisters were an odd lot, and he couldn’t imagine their school life had run smoothly. Both parents were hippies, and the four kids had been raised as recycling ninjas who could name an herb and its healing properties at a glance.
He remembered them being picked on a few times, but like the Dukes, of which there were five, they had always protected their own.
Jay saw her then. She stood in the doorway, eyes moving around the bar, searching for him.
Tall, blond and curvy with a face that could stop traffic, Blue Jay McAllister had always been someone you took a second look at. Not just because of her looks, even though those were special. There was an energy about her that hit you when she was close. Looking at the woman in the doorway, he thought that energy had depleted today.
He and Blue had never been tight friends, but they’d lived in the same small town, so they’d hung out together plenty. He associated her with Lyntacky, so it had been a surprise seeing her.
Her makeup, which you’d expect working in a fashion house or being a New Yorker, was expertly applied. Those long eyelashes weren’t hers, but they did special things for her jade green eyes.
They locked on his, and there was no smile as she headed his way. Chin raised, shoulders back, her lovely body stalked toward him.
She wore a sage-green pair of loose trousers, a fitted white-collared shirt, matching sage waistcoat, and a long black overcoat. Low black heels clicked softly against the floor. She was sleek. Sophisticated. And undeniably hot as hell.
No one watching the woman closing the distance would ever imagine the hemp-wearing kid he’d once gone to school with.
“Give me my box back, Jay,” she said when she reached his table.
“Sit, Blue. I’ve ordered some food and drinks. We’re friends, remember. I don’t see many Lyntacks”—the name they called themselves—“out in the wild.”
Jay kept his words even because he knew from experience that Blue fired up easily. She had grown up, but he was sure the girl who had beaten the crap out of Henry Lewis for teasing her sister about the odd-colored cookies she’d been eating for lunch was still in there somewhere.
“I don’t want to sit.” She wore her small leather bag across her body and folded her arms over that to glare at him.
