Gemma groaned internally as she watched Will work his way through his dessert. She was hovering by the kitchen even though she’d been officially relieved of duty for the day. Macie gazed at her indulgently. “He’s real cute.” “I told him I read his mind.” “How’d that go for you?” She made a strangled sound. “He thinks I’m a nut case. And now we’re going to go look at Jean’s car.” Quickly she filled Macie in on the call from Patrick Johnson and her trip to his farm. “Why did I call him?” she asked, staring at Will. “If I’d kept it to myself, maybe he would have never known.” “Oh, you know yourself better than that. If you can’t remember, that’s one thing. But purposely hiding that information? Just not like you, hon.” An hour later she was in Will’s car again and they were on their way. In her head Gemma had tried out about fifty different openings to explain herself, but none of them seemed like they would work.
