Flirting with Disaster by Sherryl Woods Page A

Amanda’s house, then he must have something of a knight-in-shining-armor complex. Fortunately he’d given all the volunteers a card with contact information on it, including his cell-phone number. Maggie found the card in her purse and dialed his number.
    â€œYes,” he answered so irritably that Maggie almost hung up.
    â€œJosh, it’s Maggie.”
    â€œWell now, this is a surprise,” he said, his tone immediately changing. There was a sexy vibe that hadn’t been there ten seconds ago.
    â€œI need some help,” she said. “Are you busy?”
    â€œMaybe you ought to tell me what sort of help you need before I say just how busy I am,” he said, a sudden note of caution in his tone.
    Walking away from Ellie, Maggie spoke in a low voice and gave him a condensed version of what she’d walked in on a half hour earlier.
    â€œI’ll pick up a new dead bolt and be there in twenty minutes,” he said without hesitation. “You two going to be okay until then?”
    â€œWe’ll be fine. Brain’s gone. He took off when he realized I wasn’t budging.”
    â€œIf he turns up, though, call nine-one-one and then scream your head off till all the neighbors come running,” Josh said. “Don’t hesitate, okay?”
    The genuine concern in his voice was comforting. It confirmed her gut instinct that he was the right man to call.
    â€œYou want me to stay on the line till I get there?” Josh added.
    â€œI’d rather you concentrate on getting that lock and driving over here like a bat out of hell,” she said honestly.
    â€œI’m on my way,” he said.
    â€œThanks.”
    She turned to smile at Ellie. “Help is on the way. Why don’t I make us some coffee.”
    Ellie grinned. “I thought all Southerners lived on sweet tea this time of year. Lord knows, we did at my house. What is it with you and coffee?”
    â€œA minor part of my rebellion,” Maggie told her. “I’ve always hated going with the crowd on anything. That doesn’t mean that drinking sweet tea isn’t one of my guilty little secrets. I’ll go pour us a couple of glasses, okay?”
    â€œSure.”
    En route to the kitchen, Maggie paused to give Ellie’s shoulder a pat. “It’s going to be okay, you know.”
    â€œI hope so.”
    â€œCome on. You know so. I keep telling you how talented you are. I’m an expert, remember? You need to start listening to me, rather than a man who’s pea green with envy.”
    â€œIt’s not that,” Ellie said. “I’m just worried if you store those paintings at the gallery, it’ll make you a target. What if Brian comes after them there? I don’t want to be responsible for him ruining your wonderful gallery.”
    â€œHe won’t,” Maggie replied with a confidence she wasn’t entirely sure was justified. “He knows he can intimidate you, but he won’t try it with me. He’s already seen that I don’t back down. He knows I won’t hesitate to put his sorry butt in jail.”
    But despite the forceful words, Maggie resolved to have the security system at the gallery checked and the locks there beefed up, as well.
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    It took Josh longer than he’d anticipated to find a halfway decent lock and then locate the warehouse. Every second of the delay was torture. Despite her brave front, he’d heard something in Maggie’s voice he’d never expected to hear—fear. Despite her declaration that she and this other woman were fine, he’d been tempted to send the cops over there to keep an eye on things. Only her promise to call the police herself if this nutcase showed up again kept him from doing so.
    When he finally found the darkened warehouse, he was appalled that anyone was living in such an area, especially a woman alone. It was clearly a place that someone had hoped to turn into a trendy