The Great Escape (Wynette, Texas #7)(86)

Because that’s the kind of man he was, Lucy thought. He forgave the kid who rear-ended him, pardoned his alcoholic parents, and now was defending Bree for not returning the feelings he seemed to still hold for her.

Mike ripped open a bag of potato chips. “You’d better grab your sandwich before I eat it.”

Toby and Mike traded jokes as they devoured the chips and sandwiches, along with the cookies Lucy had brought. Toby was a different kid around Mike—funny and communicative, with no traces of his customary sullenness. When they were done, Toby hunkered down on the rear bench and, as the sun began to set, dozed off.

Mike took the wheel, and they headed back. Lucy sat next to him, sipping her third glass of wine and enjoying the shimmer of the fading sun on the water. Out of nowhere, he said, “I did a crummy thing to Bree when I was seventeen.” He spoke just loudly enough so that Lucy could hear him over the noise of the engine but Toby couldn’t. “She was in love with David, Toby’s father, and I was so jealous I started hating them both.” He backed off on the throttle. “One night I spied on them, then spilled the beans to her mother about what they were doing, or at least what I knew they’d be doing if I’d stuck around to watch. The next day, Bree was gone. She never came back, not until a little over two months ago. So it isn’t hard to see why she can’t stand the sight of me.”

Lucy curled her fingers around the plastic cup. “Are you still in love with her?”

He considered the question. “I think real love has to work two ways, and that’s sure not how it is with her. But I don’t like seeing her struggle.” He gave Lucy an apologetic smile. “All I’ve done is go on about myself. Usually, I’m not like this, but you’re easy to talk to.”

“I don’t mind.” In one afternoon, Mike had told her more about himself than Panda had ever revealed.

As they approached the harbor, Mike gave a sigh of satisfaction. “I’ve traveled lots of places, but I never get tired of that view. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.”

“You’ve got to have second thoughts about that in the winter.”

“I spend a couple of weeks in Miami every year, but I’m always anxious to get back. Cross-country skiing, ice fishing, snowmobiles. In other parts of the country, people hibernate in the winter. Up here in Michigan, that’s when we come out to play.”

She laughed. “You could sell sand in the middle of the desert.”

“People know they can trust me.” He glanced over at her, and unlike Panda’s, his eyes stayed above her neck. “I’m the richest man on the island,” he said matter-of-factly. “I don’t take that for granted. Anybody who lives here knows if they’ve got trouble, I’ll do my best to help them out.”

“Don’t people take advantage of that?”

“Every once in a while somebody takes me for a sucker, but I’ll tell you what … I’d rather have that happen than not be there for a person who really needs help.”

Which said everything about Mike Moody. What she’d initially regarded as braggadocio was a true generosity of spirit. Unlike Patrick Shade, Big Mike wasn’t afraid to let people see who he was, warts and all.



PANDA HEARD HER FOOTSTEPS ON the deck. As usual, she was entering the house through her bedroom doors instead of coming in the front like a normal person. His relief at knowing she was safe barely overshadowed his resentment. Worrying about what she was up to had ruined his afternoon.

He fixed his attention on the paperback thriller he’d propped on his chest and pretended to read. He didn’t look up as the sliders opened, but he could see all he needed to out of the corner of his eyes.

She looked windblown and happy. The white terry cover-up she wore over her swimsuit had a food stain on the front. She’d tied it crookedly at the waist so that it gaped open over one breast. The way it nestled in her swimsuit top was as erotic as anything the skin magazines could conjure up.

She took him in as he lay on her bed but didn’t say anything. He crossed his ankles and tilted his head toward the chest of drawers. “I brought my pig along to spruce up the room.”

“I don’t want your pig.”

“You can’t mean that. It’s a great pig.”

“Each to his own.” She tugged at the leg of her suit. She smelled of sunblock and lake.

He set aside his book and dropped his legs over the side of the bed, casual as all hell. “You were gone a long time.”

“I told Temple where I was going.” She yawned and tossed her tote in the corner. “I need a shower.”

He followed her into the bathroom, propped his shoulder against the doorjamb. “She said you were going fishing with Mike Moody. He’s an ass.”

That pissed her off way too much. “No, he’s not. He only seems that way because he comes on so strong. He’s a great guy.”

Exactly what he didn’t want to hear. “Yeah, just ask him.”

She jerked at the tie on her cover-up. “You don’t know anything. Mike is a good man with a huge heart. And unlike you, he’s not afraid to have a real conversation.”

He snorted. Men didn’t have real conversations with women unless they wanted to get in their pants.

Lucy puckered her lips, all prim and proper. “Please leave so I can take a shower.”