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But the next words out of his mouth were utter bullshit.
“I just stayed in touch with him because I kept hoping for a chance to fix the mess I caused between you two ... that’s all. We became friends. A few days ago, he reached out and told me he needed a place to crash. Since the house was open and you were gone, I didn’t see the harm.”
Isabel stared at him for several long seconds. Then, with a cool tilt of her head, she said, “You’d think a federal agent would be a better liar.”
Disconnecting the phone, she rose and slid through the door to the attached deck, needing to look over at the house.
She didn’t expect to see Travis.
But the scent of woodsmoke filled the air and when she walked to the very end of the deck that ran the length of the house, she saw the firepit situated outside the house where he was staying.
And there he was, seated on an Adirondack chair, the firelight limning his lean, muscled form so that all she could make out was his shadowy form.
It was him, though.
Her heart leaped at the sight of him and before she knew it, she was sliding on a pair of worn sandals she kept on the deck and moving down the steps to cross to him.
Chapter 8
Isabel appeared outof the night like a dream.
For a second, Travis wondered if maybe she was.
But then he brushed the fanciful thought aside.
Even in all the dreams he’d had of her over the years, she hadn’t been this beautiful.
When she came to a stop a few feet away, he inclined his head back against the seat and watched, trying to get a read. It was a lot harder than it had once been.
Slowly, she sat down on the arm of the chair closest to him and the firelight, warm and golden, flickered over her, highlighting her lovely face.
Her green eyes looked almost black in the night and they held a glassy, hard glitter.
So. She was angry.
Tipping back his bottle of beer, he took a sip.
