Chapter Fourteen
It was dark when Mark pulled in and parked in front of his cottage beside Billy Jo’s Nissan. Light drifted through the windows, and he wanted to shut his eyes after the shitstorm of the day, but he spotted the door open, and there was Billy Jo, gesturing as if to ask what he was doing.
Damn, he didn’t know if he had it in him to do any more dancing around tonight. They’d eat and then she’d leave. He pulled on his door and stepped out, then started up the deck toward her.
“Well, was wondering if you were going to sit out there all night,” she said. “I made a meatloaf.” She was barefoot, he realized, and let her gaze linger as she looked up at him. “Please tell me it got better after I left?”
He touched her cheek as he thought of the mess he’d left, papers scattered, whe
