Rumor Has It Read Online Free PDF Page A

had been five years sinceher accident, and still the results of it tore her apart inside. No one would have said so, but she knew Maggie could see it, because Maggie knew the whole truth of what her riding accident had done to her.
    Maybe by the time all their friends had finished having children, Katie thought, maybe then she could be over the fact that she never could.
    “You're a good friend, Mary Margaret,” she said as the first welcome buzz of numbing medication sluiced through her.
    “Yeah.” Maggie slid her sunglasses back on. She went to lock the front door and turn the Open sign to Closed. “I'll even be a sport and drive you home. Let's blow this pop stand, Quaid.”

TWO
    S OMEHOW SHE KNEW it was him even before she looked up from the invoices on her desk. There was just something in the way the bells above the front door jingled that tipped her off. Katie looked up as Nick stepped around the counter. He had her china vase. In it white tissue paper skirted a tall stand of stiff green pasta.
    “Good morning, Kathryn!” He smiled with all the brilliant warmth of the spring sun as he set the vase on her desk, then leaned back against the counter and crossed his ankles. He wore whitesocks and old brown loafers that looked as if they'd survived decades of fashion ups and downs.
    Katie found herself eye level with a rather disturbing part of his anatomy. Men with bodies like this should be required to have a license to wear tight jeans, she mused, her cheeks flushing to a color that matched the flowers of her Laura Ashley dress. She straightened in her chair and forced her gaze up to his face. It was impossible not to return his smile.
    “Good morning, Mr. Leone. What an unusual gift.” She reached out a tentative finger to touch the sticks of pasta, not entirely sure what they were.
    “Spinach fettuccine,” he said. “I made it last night. Serve it with a little lemon butter.” He kissed the tips of his fingers, then wagged one at her. “Eleven minutes. Don't overcook it. You'll ruin the texture.”
    “Thank you.” She nodded and scanned her suddenly empty brain for something more to say. The only thing her brain could register was that she was relieved he was wearing a loose- fitting shirt. Unfortunately for her blood pressure, he had rolled the sleeves neatly to his elbows, callingattention to muscular forearms generously adorned with curling ebony hair.
    “I fixed those steps Wednesday after you left. How's the ankle?” he asked, slipping his fingers into the pockets of his jeans, further straining the faded denim.
    Katie swallowed hard and fixed her gaze on his left shoulder. “It's fine.”
    “You want me to look at it? I don't know anything about first aid, but I'd love to get my hands on your ankle,” he said with a playful note in his voice.
    Katie forced herself not to smile. “That's quite unnecessary,” she said.
    Nick grimaced inwardly. Even if she wasn't showing it now, he knew the lady had a sense of humor. Her face had glowed with it the other day. He wasn't about to believe that baloney he'd heard about her being the town ice princess. At any rate, he intended to do a little personal research into the rumor. “I got that stuff in the attic sorted out. I thought you might be able to tell me who could clean it.”
    “Certainly.” She jotted down an address for him on a sheet of pink memo paper. Restorationwas a much safer topic than Nick's hands on her ankle. The mere suggestion had given her a hot flash. “The people at the historical society in Charlottesville do a very nice job.”
    “I don't know where that is or what to tell them when I get there,” he said, letting his fingertips brush hers as he leaned forward to take the scrap of paper. He thought he heard her breath catch in her throat. “Maybe you'd go along with me?”
    “I'm sorry.” Katie locked her gaze on her invoices. The look Nick was giving her was more hopeful than a spaniel puppy's. Calculated, no doubt,