Tease Me Read online

  But he hadn’t. And now that he was there, he wasn’t smiling or lounging, much less attacking. It was only then that she realized how much she had been counting on him to make the next move. She’d tried to tell herself that she’d been pleased that he’d apparently decided to give her space and to let her make the next move. His even expression and somewhat stiff posture as he slid onto a stool at the counter made it clear that he was doing just that.

  She should be thrilled. After their conflagration the other night, they were both stepping back and allowing things to progress coolly and logically. So why was it taking all of her control not to scream at him that there was entirely too much space between them and if he didn’t haul his very fine backside off that stool and come sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless, she might go mad?

  She knew why. And that was the reason she carefully kept her back to him as she wiped down the last two tables. “I’m almost finished.”

  “Take your time.”

  Take your time, she mimicked silently as she scrubbed viciously at a spot of dried ketchup. She’d rather take him. And that was precisely what he was waiting for her to admit.

  She moved to the last table. She’d admitted it to herself already. She’d spent two long sleepless nights searching her soul, examining her past, pondering her future. By daybreak she’d concluded that there was no denying she wanted Tucker Morgan, but that was all she’d concluded. She was still confused. She still felt very strongly that her focus had to be on helping Minerva. She’d never forgive herself if she allowed her relationship with Tucker to take off on a whirlwind of lust and passion that was certain to cloud her mind and very likely her judgment and, in the end, cause her to screw up and make a wrong move or miss a possible solution, leaving her aunt to suffer the consequences.

  As the hours had passed with no sight or sound of Tucker, she was ashamed to admit she’d even been tempted to take that risk. But when she looked beyond the situation with Minerva, she realized she still wasn’t certain. She was afraid. Afraid to fail. Afraid to jump … and fall flat on her face. Again. She was still working at trying to be more responsible and levelheaded, and Tucker made her feel anything but. And to confuse her further, he’d told her not to change, to be who she was, but he hadn’t dealt with the results of her being Lainey Cooper.

  She did know one thing. Whatever her past foibles had wrought, she was happy there. She loved working at the café with Minerva. There had been discussions of her eventually taking over, allowing Minerva to retire, if Lainey decided it was what she wanted to do. Her soul searching had helped her to make that decision. Which only intensified her feeling of responsibility to make sure that Minerva had something to retire on.

  Where did that leave Tucker? He’d said he didn’t have to leave. But what would he do if he stayed? She understood money was apparently not an immediate concern of his. There was an incredible freedom in that, and she couldn’t believe he wouldn’t want to take advantage of it and explore all the possibilities his business success allowed. He couldn’t do that if he was tied to her, to her life in Sunset Shores and all that it entailed. Even if he did choose her, how long would it be before he regretted settling so soon? And in a senior retirement village to boot?

  “I think it’s clean. Unless you’re trying to change the color of the Formica.”

  Lainey started guiltily. He was right behind her. She took a breath and carefully smoothed her expression before turning to him. “Never can be too clean. The health department has more rules than the IRS. Their inspectors are scarier too.”

  He didn’t smile. “I think I have a plan that might get Minerva her investment back.”

  Lainey sighed, feeling the weight settle even heavier on her heart. She’d read all the papers. It hadn’t taken a lawyer to determine that Minerva had invested quite heavily in Damian’s property development. “I’m all ears. It looked pretty cut and dried to me. The investors don’t see any money until the condos are done and start selling. It all looked quite legit, and she signed the contract and wrote the check. Unless we can prove it’s a scam and they never intend to build those condos, I don’t see how we can get her money back.”

  “Why don’t you sit down before you fall down?”

  She’d have been insulted if she’d had the energy. As it was, he was simply stating the obvious.

  “Rough day?”

  Even rougher nights, she thought, but didn’t say it. She merely nodded and slid into a booth.

  “Is there still coffee on?” She started to rise, but he motioned her to stay seated. “I know where it is, remember?”

  She detected a hint of his old smile and felt a rush of relief that was almost embarrassing. Get a grip, Lainey. Think cool. Logical. “It’s hot and fairly fresh. The mugs are stacked—”

  “Got it,” he interrupted. She let him. Even when he was obviously playing the business consultant and platonic friend, he didn’t make her feel remotely cool or logical. If anything, her confusion factor had doubled.

  “I spoke to that investor friend of mine again yesterday,” he said as he unlatched the door and stepped behind the counter. “He has some other property he’s developing in Miami, close to where this project supposedly is, and he looked into it. The land is there and it is posted for the development, but ground hasn’t been broken.”

  “So it’s legitimate?”

  He filled two mugs and crossed back to the booth. “On the surface it is. It’s a tangle of paperwork, but between us we managed to trace it back through several corporations to a holding company.” He slid one mug in front of her and sat down. “Guess where they’re headquartered?”

  “Here?”

  “Bingo. Actually, the offices are in Tampa, but that’s close enough. I imagine there’s probably another company to which the profits are diverted tucked somewhere nice and tax-free.”

  She shook her head slowly, then sipped her coffee. “I don’t know, Tucker. It still doesn’t add up to me. I can’t see Damian running something this big, legit or otherwise.”

  “That’s just it, he’s not.”

  “But you said—”

  “We’re agreed Damian’s not stupid, right?” She nodded. “He knows what his strengths are, and you’re right, running something this big is beyond his capabilities. However, this is where the money is.”

  She set her mug down as understanding dawned. “He’s a partner, or in a kind of junior executive sort of position.”

  “Give the lady a prize. Damian marketed his best asset to the big boys—his skill in getting people to give up their money—which he does for a cut of the take.”

  “Can we prove this? I know if you explained this to Minerva, she’d believe it now.” Lainey had decided to hold off telling her aunt anything until she’d had a chance to talk to Tucker, knowing it would be easier if she presented a solution along with the bad news. “But that won’t get her money back or Betty Louise’s or Bernice’s. Will it?”

  “First of all, proving it is close to impossible. These guys are slick and they’re pros. At this point the thing is legit. It will be several years until they max out their various lease and contract options—and bleed dry as many people as they can in the process—before they fold up shop and disappear into the night.”

  “Only to set up shop in some new town, with a new phony scam. Hell, if they really own that land, they can probably put up a new sign and run the same scam again and again.”

  “And you said that business degree was gathering dust.”

  Lainey felt a shot of warmth all the way to her toes when she looked up to find him smiling at her. And it had nothing to do with his pride in her business accumen. “No, Damian said that. But even if I’ve put that piece of paper to use helping Minerva reorganize the way she runs this café, it won’t help me get her out of this mess.”

  She watched Tucker’s smile fade, his expression still intent … almost bemused. Disconcerted, she glanced back at her coffee and took another sip. �
�So you’re saying it would be years, if ever, before we could actually nail these guys.”

  She glanced up in time to catch him staring at her before he ducked his gaze back to his coffee. She worked to not squirm in her seat. It had barely been a blink of time, but she swore she’d seen a flash of … well, the only word she could come up with was hunger. There had been unabashed, unadulterated hunger in his eyes. Maybe it wasn’t any easier for him to back off than it was for her.

  How long would it be before one or the other’s control snapped and they found themselves naked and going at each other on the counter of Minerva’s café?

  She took a large swallow of coffee and tried not to choke. Who was she kidding? One brief hint of a glance and she was almost ready to crawl across the table into his lap. She was still only playing at being responsible, playing at being cool and levelheaded.

  “Even if we went to Roscoe or the feds and they agreed to look into it, yes, it would likely be years.”

  The low rumble of his voice sent shivers of awareness through her. How long could she keep this up? The answer curled around her heart like a cold fist. She couldn’t. She couldn’t stay around Tucker and be the person she wanted to be, knew she had to be, to avoid future disasters.

  “So what do I do?” She knew he heard the bleak hopelessness in her voice, but only she knew the true depth of her question.

  “We,” he corrected. “What will we do.” He reached out and covered her hand. She jumped at the zap of electricity the contact sent shooting through her. It took all of her willpower to keep from yanking her hand away.

  She wanted to yell that “we” couldn’t do anything, because she couldn’t handle being a “we” with him. She’d never learn to control her impulses if every time she got the urge to jump, he stood right behind her, willing to push.

  But they were dealing with saving Minerva’s money right now, and Tucker was the one with the connections to help. She had to push aside what she felt for Tucker in order to focus on Minerva, then carefully explain to him that she couldn’t pursue a relationship with him, in a way she hoped he would understand. It was her only hope.

  Cool. Logical. Responsible.

  Now if she could only summon up enough courage and control and force it past the crushing pain in her chest, so she could look him in the eye and follow through on it.

  She took a deep breath and lifted her head, only to find him staring at her. She swallowed hard. There was no banked hunger, at least none that she could see. In fact, she couldn’t see anything in his eyes. However, it took all of her persuasive powers to convince herself that he couldn’t see exactly what she was thinking, know what she was planning. “You said you had a plan?”

  He nodded, his gaze still firmly on hers. She knew he suspected that all was not right inside her scattered head, but he was going to help her, anyway. Of course, Tucker was nothing if not determined. He was backing off, helping her with Minerva the way she’d asked him to, with realistic hopes that afterward she would consent to continue and deepen their relationship.

  “It’s not exactly kosher,” he said, shifting forward, leaning over his coffee mug. “Sort of a take on the old ‘if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em’ routine.”

  She couldn’t do this, couldn’t let him help her out when she was planning to dump him right after. She had to tell him now, up front, even if it meant that he walked out of the café and her life forever. It might not be the most responsible way to handle things where Minerva was concerned, but it was the honest way. Even Minerva would understand and approve of that.

  “Tucker, listen, there’s something I—” Lainey broke off, startled when someone knocked on the front door hard enough to rattle the aluminum miniblinds.

  She caught Tucker glancing at his watch. “She’s early.”

  “Who’s earl—” The blinds rattled under a renewed assault. Lainey got up and flipped up the blinds. She glanced over at Tucker. “Lillian?”

  “I was about to explain.”

  Confused and more than a little curious, Lainey turned the lock and let the woman into the café. Lillian strolled past her, unsnapped the front of her red silk turban, flung her arms wide, and turned in a small circle.

  “Whaddya think?”

  Lainey’s mouth dropped open. Gone was Lillian’s white blond pouf of helmet hair. In its place was a sleekly styled, jet-black cap of elegantly arranged waves, reminiscent of Joan Collins’s most famous role, the bitchy Alexis. With exquisitely sculpted pencil-thin eyebrows, subdued makeup that took years off her appearance, a wicked slash of red on her expertly outlined lips, and discreet gold and diamond earrings clasped to her ears, all Lillian needed was a Dior suit and black Italian pumps and she’d be the quintessential grande dame power magnate. As it was, the red silk track suit and high-top white sneakers she was wearing made Lainey a bit dizzy.

  Lillian ended her one-woman show facing Lainey, who immediately snapped her mouth shut and scrambled for something to say.

  Lillian shot a look at Tucker. “You haven’t told her yet, have you?”

  Tucker shook his head and got as far as opening his mouth before Lillian sighed dramatically and grabbed Lainey’s hand. “Never mind. I’ll do the talking.” She slid into the booth across from Tucker, then motioned for Lainey to slide in next to her. “What have you two been doing, anyway?” She cast a sharp look at one then the other and paused.

  Despite the fact that nothing had been going on, Lainey felt her cheeks heating up as images of what she’d done in Lillian’s salon two nights earlier flashed through her mind. She was certain that Lillian could see every damning thought written clearly on her face.

  She pulled her hand from Lillian’s and scooted out of the booth. “Let me get another mug and the pot of coffee,” she said, not giving anyone a chance to refuse. “I have a feeling we’re going to need it,” she added under her breath.

  “Tucker explained to me all about this Damian character,” Lillian began.

  Lainey grabbed a mug and the pot and headed back to the booth.

  “We’re going to nail the little weasel,” Lillian continued.

  If she hadn’t been so tied up in knots over Tucker and this whole mess, Lainey would have laughed at the relish in Lillian’s voice. She sat down and filled everyone’s mugs. “ ‘We’?” she asked, trying her best not to stare at Lillian’s hair.

  “I’ve talked it over with Lillian, and with some help from my investor client-friend, I think we can pull this off.”

  “Pull what off?” Lainey looked with exasperation and not a little trepidation at the two.

  Lillian patted Tucker’s hand and smiled. “It’s a brilliant plan. It will work.” She turned to Lainey. “Tucker’s investor is going to provide us with some brochures and contracts and prospectus information on a project he started but scrapped when the landowner died and his heirs decided not to sell. It’s for some property here in Florida, near St. Augustine.”

  A knot of dread coiled in her stomach. Lainey was afraid that she knew exactly where Lillian was headed with this. “You don’t mean to set up your own scam, do you?”

  “That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Tucker said. “I have two suites reserved at the Fairmont, and the necessary equipment to set up an office is being delivered there today. Roger—that’s my former client—is expressing all the other stuff today. We should be ready to roll by tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Lainey said weakly. “But what if Damian recognizes you?”

  “I won’t be directly involved.” He nodded to Lillian.

  “Minerva met this guy at the hotel,” Lillian went on. “He hasn’t been in the salon or ever laid eyes on me. And on the off chance he’s ever seen me out with Minerva somewhere, I did the makeover. Besides, he’s not interested in anyone else right around here. Tucker says he keeps his groups of investors in any one area to a small minimum to lessen the chance that they can combine forces to track down proof of the scam after it’s over. Now, look at
this.”

  Lillian pulled her purse up and dug out a small gold business-card holder. She slipped out a nice vellum business card and flashed it at Lainey, then slid another out for Tucker.

  “Great, huh? I had them done at that quickie place over in Hampton this morning.” The card was engraved in black, with the name “Lila Parks” centered in elegant script. Under that were the words “International Development and Investments.” The hotel’s name and number, along with the name of her suite and the extension, were listed discreetly in one corner.

  “You didn’t need to do this, Aunt Lillian.” Tucker smiled at her. “But it is a nice touch.”

  Lainey was overwhelmed by their preposterous plan, but not enough to miss Tucker’s smile and feel a pang of envy mix with the clutch of pain at the thought of never being on the receiving end of one of them again.

  Striving for a calm, rational voice, she said, “I think it’s wonderful that you’re willing to do this, Lillian.” She turned to Tucker. “And it’s more than generous of you to underwrite the expense.”

  “Our pleasure,” Lillian said, casting another penetrating glance between Tucker and Lainey. “It’s the least we can do for a friend, especially one that feels like family.”

  Lainey didn’t miss the underlying meaning, but now was not the time to dissuade Lillian from her matchmaking intentions. That would take care of itself soon enough. “I think that’s wonderful. But don’t you both think this plan is, well …”

  “Exciting?” Lillian put in. She patted Lainey’s hand. “It’s brilliant.”

  “Complicated,” Lainey said, compromising on the terms she’d wanted to use. “Rash,” “ridiculous,” and “dangerous” all came to mind.