There was the flash in his eyes again, reminding her that they were a long way from kids. “I suppose I should share, since you made it.” She took a bite and moaned. “Maple syrup. Nina used to make French toast for me every Sunday morning.”

Cody gently moved her ankle aside so he could sit. “Not bad, eh?”

“You did good.” The breakfast tasted almost as good as Cody looked. What was wrong with her?

She cut a bite, but he reached out and grabbed the fork. He put the bite in his mouth, nodding as he chewed. “If the PI thing doesn’t work out, think I could become a cook?”

Women would pay Cody MacBain to deliver burnt toast. “I think I’ll need another meal before I decide.”

Between them, they finished six slices of French toast. Shay reached for the orange juice, but Cody had already raised it to his mouth. How easily they were slipping into old routines. Her gaze raked over him, mussed hair to booted feet, and every inch in between. These weren’t old times, the tree house proved that. Things were moving too fast. Going from hating him to… to what? Whatever it was, it scared the heck out of her. She felt her control slipping, felt the urge to sit back and let him take over. Shay had been taking care of herself far too long to let anyone take over.

“Let me check your ankle.” Cody lifted the covers and took her foot in his hand. He unwrapped the elastic bandage, his touch sending tingles through her leg. She’d had more tingles in her body the last twelve hours than she had in the last twelve months.

“Swelling is mostly down. You still need to take it easy for a day or so,” he said.

“I have to get groceries and some clothes. I’ll rest after that.”

“Maybe you can find some clothes in the attic. Nina never throws anything away. You look about the same size you were before.” He looked her over, his gaze slowing at her breasts.

“I think I took everything with me, but I’ll check. It’s hard to tell where my luggage will end up.” Shay moved the tray and slid out of bed.

“You shouldn’t be climbing those stairs. Your ankle will never heal.”

“It’s fine. Thank you for the French toast and for washing my clothes and loaning me your T-shirt and… stuff. I’ll wash them and give them back.”

“Maybe I’d rather you didn’t,” Cody said, brushing against her. “I like how you smell.” His voice was low, laced with something so hot it sent a jolt through her nether regions.

She took a step back. “What are you doing?”

“Damn it, I don’t know. I’ll be downstairs.” He picked up the tray and left without looking at her.

She had to get out of here. Maybe she could go to Leesburg and wait for Renee. A couple of days with her might take the edge off whatever this thing was with Cody. It was ridiculous. He was gorgeous, but she had been around plenty of gorgeous men. They never affected her this way.

After Shay made the bed, she called Mr. Ellis and left a message, giving him the bad news about his table, and then she called Lucy to see if everything was okay with the house. Lucy Bell was ninety, the closest thing Shay had to family in Scotland. The old woman had lost her husband a few years before. She and Shay looked out for each other. Shay had just gotten to the attic, when Cody appeared.

“Thought I’d find you up here,” he muttered. “You don’t listen very well.”

“Then stop giving orders.” She dug through a stack of boxes. “I don’t think I’ll find anything. Oh, remember this?” She pulled out her Tinker Bell costume. Nina had made it for her in first grade.

“I remember. You drove me crazy trying to get me to help you practice for the play.”

“I don’t know what you had against Peter Pan,” Shay said, putting the outfit back.

“He wore tights.”

“So did Robin Hood. I don’t hear you complaining about him.”

“His bow made up for the girly clothes. You used to be good with a bow.”

“I haven’t shot one in years,” Shay said. “I probably couldn’t hit the barn.” Underneath the Tinker Bell outfit was Shay’s graduation gown. She brushed her finger over the red material. That was the worst year of her life.

“I have a friend who could help, but I’m afraid he’d give you more than just tips.” Cody helped her check the rest of the attic, but there weren’t any clothes.

Her cell phone rang. It was the airline informing her that her luggage had been delivered.

She hung up. “I guess I’m going to Leesburg. The airline delivered my luggage there.”

“Leesburg?”

“I thought that’s where I would be staying.”

“Can’t you buy new stuff? I thought women looked for any excuse to shop.”

“I have plenty of clothes in my suitcase. No need to waste money.”

“I’d rather you didn’t go.”

“Why not?”

“You might feel fine now, but Leesburg is a two-hour drive. That’s four hours working the accelerator and brake on a sprained ankle. Not one of your better ideas.”

“I’ll manage.”

“No, you won’t.”

“I’m going,” Shay said.

He sighed. “Come on, then.”

“I didn’t ask you to come.”

“You don’t have a choice.”

“You’re bossier than I remember.”

“Too bad. Let’s get this over with.”

“I’m going to shower first. Do I need your permission to do that?”

“Not unless you need my help.”

Shay shoved past him and tromped down the stairs. She stumbled only once, and he grabbed her before she could fall.

“Stubborn,” he muttered.

“Tyrant.”

Shay showered and dressed in the same clothes. Cody pulled the truck around so she wouldn’t have to walk across to his house.

“You look like you’re going to your execution,” Shay said.

“If Renee sees me, it might be.”

“You two used to get along.”

“It’s a long story.”

“Care to explain?”

“No.”

He didn’t explain about Renee, but they talked as they rode, catching up on things from the past nine years, avoiding the touchy topics like fake parents and lies and letters and other things that couldn’t be mentioned, which was like tiptoeing around the Grand Canyon. They grabbed a late lunch from a drive-through and arrived at the shop late afternoon.

“Her car isn’t here,” Shay said. “This is odd. She was expecting me.” She pulled the key from her purse. “Are you coming in?”

He grimaced and got out.

Shay’s luggage was sitting outside the back door, where she had instructed the airline to leave it. “Let’s try the apartment first.”

“She hasn’t been here for a few days,” Cody said, after they looked around the apartment.

“How do you know, Sherlock?”

Cody opened the refrigerator. “Observe, Watson. The milk’s almost full, but past its expiration date. We passed a neighbor pulling his trash can off the street. Trash must have been picked up yesterday.” He sniffed. “Hers hasn’t been put out. I noticed mail sticking out of the mailbox outside too.”

“It looks like she just walked off. Why would she do that when she knew I was coming?”

“Did she have business that could have called her away?”

“She travels a lot, and she’s always meeting up with some new hot guy and taking off.”

“How about you?” Cody asked quietly. “Do you ever run off with some new hot guy?”

“No. That’s Renee’s thing, not mine.” Shay couldn’t even commit to a decent, honest, hot guy who wanted to marry her. What would she do with a new one? “She kept complaining about a new client who’s kept her busy. She didn’t like him.”

Cody stopped to look at a coat hanging on a rack by the door. He frowned. “You got a phone number for him?”

“No, the client database is separate for the shop in Scotland and this one.”

“What about her parents? Where are they?”

“Florida. They left right before I moved in with Renee. I’ll try them.”

“Let’s check her workroom, and then we can check the store. I’d like to see her files.”

“It isn’t locked,” Shay said as she opened the door.

Cody looked at pieces lying haphazardly around Renee’s workroom, mostly chairs and cans of varnish, brushes, and paint. “Looks like the place was trashed.”

“It always looks like this. The store’s neat, but this place is a mess. What are you doing?”

Cody had bent and was touching something on the floor. “Nothing.”

As she turned away, she saw him sniff his finger. What was he looking for? He moved about the room, padding lightly from spot to spot, stopping occasionally to examine something. His expression was intent, fully focused. There was something about the way he moved, a gracefulness that surrounded all those muscles, that left her in awe. He’d always had it, even when he was young. She’d tried to emulate it, but never got it right. “On to the shop?” she asked.

Cody nodded. Shay opened the back door, and they stepped inside.

“Nice,” Cody said, admiring an old sword on a shelf.

“We carry everything from furniture and tapestries to weapons and jewelry. If it’s old, we’re interested,” Shay said, closing a table drawer.

“I’ve got a friend you should meet,” he muttered.

They stepped farther into the shop, and the hair on Shay’s neck rose.

“Wait. Let me go first.” Cody put a hand over his chest and eased inside, not touching anything. He moved like a predator, eyes narrowed, scanning the shadows.

“The guy who broke in my shop smashed a table too.”

“You didn’t tell me that. Was anything else damaged?”

“Not that I know. The police didn’t mention anything. I wonder if it’s the same guy.”

“Who was he? A local guy?”

“I don’t know him. He had a strange name. Franklin or something. He claims it’s a mistake.”

“They all do.” Cody eased past the broken furniture. “We’ll call the police in Scotland. There must be some connection if the only things he messed with are the tables.”