Part 269 (2/2)

The moment he opened the door she knew she'd awakened him. It was past

noon, but his eyes were heavy and unfocused. He wore only a pair of

jeans, obviously tugged on hastily and still half zipped. He dragged a

hand over his face and back into his hair.

”Emma?”

”Yes. I'm sorry, Michael. I should have called.”

He blinked against the sunlight. ”Is something wrong?”

”No. Listen, I'll go on. I was just out riding around.”

”No, come on in.” He reached for her hand as he glanced over his

shoulder. ”s.h.i.+t.”

”Michael, really, it's a bad time. I can just-” She'd stepped over the

threshold. The dim light had her narrowing her eyes. ”Oh my.”

She couldn't think of anything else. The living room looked as though

it had been run over by a group of particularly vicious elves. ”Have

you been robbed?”

”No.” He was too groggy to worry about appearances and took her arm to

drag her back to the kitchen. The dog continued to bark and leap in

circles around them.

”You must have had a party,” she decided and felt a bit miffed that he

hadn't asked her to come.

”No. Please G.o.d, let there be coffee,” he muttered, pus.h.i.+ng through the

cupboards.

”Here.” She found the can of Maxwell House in the sink with a bag of

potato chips. ”Would you like me to-”

<script>