Traci On The Spot Read Free Page A

her own internal argument. So what if bells and banjos didn’t fill the air when Daniel held her hand or kissed her? Electricity was for the utility company, and for teenagers fumbling in the back seat of a car, not for a grown woman. She would take stability over curled toes any day.
    She just wished…
    What? Traci thought impatiently, annoyed with the way she was vacillating. She just wished what? That she could feel the wind beneath her sails, to have the sky light up when a man kissed her?
    Been there, done that. Gone nowhere.
    She should be grateful that Daniel had happened. He’d turned love into a comfortable thing, something she’d just slipped into.
    Like clean underwear in the morning.
    Traci winced and forced herself to pay attention to the road before she really did hit something. Where was that house, anyway?
    Traci halted the car abruptly as she stared at the fence up ahead. Was she lost? She didn’t remember a fence on the property when her parents had driven up here. And she certainly didn’t remember a No Trespassing sign being posted.
    There was a tiny M. Brigham in the corner below the declaration.
    No, she wasn’t lost, Traci decided. The notice had obviously been put up by Morgan. Morgan Brigham had probably grown up to become a pompous ass and his waist had probably thickened while his hair had thinned. Growing up was the pits sometimes.
    Traci got out of the car and approached the sign. She ran her hand along it. The last time she’d been here was—when?
    Pausing, she linked events up in her mind, searching for a time frame. It had been right before she’d gone away to college. Once college had begun, there just hadn’t been enough time to come out here anymore, even though she’d wanted to.
    And then her parents had stopped reserving the house for the summer. There seemed to be no point to the time-sharing arrangement anymore.Their only daughter had grown up and life had taken another road.
    Away from here.
    For a moment, Traci stood, debating with herself. Something was urging her to turn around and go back. The old adage about not going home again echoed in the corners of her mind. She was afraid that what she would see would shatter the idyllic time childhood had become for her in her mind.
    “Coward,” she mumbled under her breath.
    Unlatching the gate, Traci pulled it open far enough to accommodate her car. Then she got back in and drove up the grassy road.
    She could see the house.
    Her pulse began to hammer as excitement spilled through her. Yes, that was definitely the house—a two-story, wood-frame building with a chimney that was dwarfed by the trees around it. Just beyond, she knew, was the dock and the lake where she’d learned how to swim. How to kayak. And how to dream.
    Without realizing it, she pressed down on the accelerator just as she crossed the wooden bridge.
    Traci zoomed over it the way she’d zoomed over so many things in the past few years. Suddenly, she desperately wanted to see the house.
    Following the winding path, she traveled the rough, uneven gravel-paved road as far as she could, then pulled the car over to the side. After getting out, she locked it out of habit and went the rest of the way on foot. Jeremiah, eager tostretch his legs after being in the car for so long, fairly galloped down the path. Holding on to the leash, she all but flew behind him.
    “C’mon, dog, I don’t want to be dragged.”
    Traci was nearly in front of the door when she heard someone behind her. Alerted, Jeremiah began to bark. And cower.
    Cartoonist found dead at house where she spent summers. Film at eleven.
    Heart hammering in her throat, vying for space with a gasp, Traci swung around. Her hand was raised up in a pseudo self-defense movement she had absolutely no idea how to execute.
    “Took you long enough.”
    Her mouth fell open. Her hand remained in the air only because it was frozen in place. This drop-dead gorgeous guy just couldn’t be—
    “Morgan?”
    The