Evil In Carnations Read Online Free PDF Page B

Artists that I probably shouldn’t even be mentioning because once you see it, I doubt whether I’ll be able to pry you out of it.
    “But wait. The best part of the trip? Right now it’s seventy-four degrees there. I just checked. That’s fifty degrees higher than it is here. So, what do you think? Want to go?”
    “With you?”
    “No, with my mother.” He pulled me into his arms. “Yes, Sunshine, of course with me. I thought I’d make reservations at a cozy bed-and-breakfast inn for a long weekend. We can fly down early on a Friday morning, be there by one thirty or so, and take a red-eye flight home Sunday night. You’ll only have to miss one day of work. How does that grab you?”
    Gazing up into his handsome face, I melted inside. How many times had I fantasized about Marco whisking me away to a romantic spot? If only I didn’t have to turn him down now.
    “It’s a grabber, all right,” I answered with forced cheer-fulness, slipping out of Marco’s embrace. “I’ll have to get back to you on that. I’ve got some weddings coming up that are going to keep me really busy for a while, and I sure wouldn’t want to blow those moneymaking opportunities. Gotta pay those bills. Gotta put food on the table—”
    “Abby, if you don’t want to go, just say so.”
    I glanced at Marco and my heart ached with regret. Here he was, the man of my dreams, asking me to spend a romantic weekend with him, and I was making up excuses not to go. But after the debacle of having my identity stolen, and then Marco not believing me, although he’d apologized, I still found myself holding back, not completely trusting him. “It’s just that you kind of sprang it on me.”
    “Not a problem. Think about it for a while. Let’s go eat.”
    He tossed the brochure onto his desk and escorted me up the hallway to our booth. We ordered our usual sandwiches and beers, and I entertained him by describing some of the unusual customers I’d had that day. Yet I felt an underlying tension between us that kept me from enjoying his company.
    After dinner, Marco walked me to my car in the public lot on the next street. The sky was black and the weather was lousy, with frigid temperatures and a bitter wind that whipped snow in our faces. Even with my knit scarf covering my neck and half of my face, and my thickest gloves on, I couldn’t stop shivering—or thinking about those seventy-degree temps in Key West.
    For the entire walk, I warred with myself, part of me wanting passionately to say yes to Key West and the other part hiding in a corner, shaking like a leaf at the thought of putting my trust in him and having it broken all over again.
    What a coward you are , my conscience chided.
    “Want me to drop you back at the bar?” I asked Marco.
    “Sounds good. The wind has picked up since I was out earlier.”
    He got in on the passenger side as I started the engine. It took a moment for the old Corvette to kick to life; then I let it idle while the engine warmed up. To fill the awkward silence I began to chat about the weather. “I hope we don’t get that snowstorm they’re predicting. All we need is more snow. How many feet have we had so far this winter?”
    “Abby?”
    At his serious tone, I turned to look at him. His face was visible only by the glow of streetlights, making his eyes seem darker, more intense, giving me a nervous flutter inside. “Yes?”
    “Are you afraid to go with me to Key West?”
    “Afraid?” I made a scoffing sound. “No way.”
    “Then what’s holding you back?”
    “Like I said, I’ve got some big jobs coming up . . .” I shrugged, knowing it sounded lame.
    “We can work around your jobs.”
    I let out a long breath. “I suppose.”
    “What is it then?”
    “I don’t know. . . . Maybe because Key West is so far away.” I was doing a terrible job of explaining my feelings, mostly because I wasn’t quite understanding them myself.
    “How does distance matter?”
    I stared at him, trying