Headlights appeared over the rise and Katie let out a sigh of relief—whether it was because help was on the way or because she’d managed to avoid a painful topic, he couldn’t guess. “Thank God,” she said, then forced a smile. “The cavalry did make it, after all.”

With a squeal of brakes, the big tow truck slowed, then idled in the road while Katie looked up to the driver in the raised cab and explained how her car had died. He was a kid—barely out of high school, it looked like—but he wheeled his big rig around like a pro. Within a few minutes he’d winched the disabled car onto the bed of his truck. Once the convertible was secure, he filled out the paperwork to ensure that Katie’s wheels would end up at Len’s Service Station.

“I hope this doesn’t cost me an arm and a leg,” she thought aloud as the tow truck eased onto the road and was off in a cloud of dust and exhaust.

“Shouldn’t.”

“I’ve got my fingers crossed.” The worry etching tiny lines across her smooth forehead gave him pause. He noticed the pulse beating at the base of her throat and the way the wind snatched at her hair.

For a second the urge to take her into his arms was so strong he nearly gave in. Standing alone at the side of the road with the sound of the truck’s engine fading in the distance and the stars flickering in the sky, he was tempted to pull her against his chest and rest his chin on her crown. She was small and warm, smelling of lilacs and honey, and he knew she’d feel like heaven against him.

She glanced up at him with those luminous eyes and he had to set his jaw against the overpowering urge to kiss her until they both couldn’t breathe.

The thought struck him hard and he shoved it quickly aside. He cleared his throat. “We’d better get a move on.”

“Oh, right.” She, as if having read his mind, couldn’t get to the pickup fast enough. The entire way back to her house she sat pressed against the passenger door, as if she, too, was touched by the growing intimacy between them, and it scared her to death. She looked like she hoped to bolt the minute he pulled into her driveway.

He switched on the radio, played with the buttons and finally settled for a rock station that was usually more heavy-metal than he liked. They didn’t talk much and he tried to ignore her, but his mind was racing down a path that was as dark as midnight; a path he didn’t like.

Who was Josh’s father?

The kid was ten or eleven. Just the right age.