Tease Me Read online

  He could tell himself it was loyalty to Lillian and her concerns about handling her suspicions a certain way, but something else stopped him too.

  He wanted to get to know Lainey a little better before he decided how to pursue the situation.

  “Well,” she said, “I’m sure you’re busy. I’ll let you get on with your other appointments.”

  “Actually, you’re the only one I had today,” he said, not knowing if it was true, but he could remedy that. “I don’t suppose you’re free for lunch? Or maybe a quick cup of coffee?”

  His offer obviously surprised her. Apparently she wasn’t as affected by the masseur as he was by his new client. His ego took the blow in stride. After all, it was information he was really after.

  Yeah, okay, his little voice shot back.

  “I’m afraid I can’t,” she said. “We’re catering a luncheon later today, and I’ve got a ton of things to do. I really did this as a favor to the twins.” Her eyes brightened a bit as a hint of her bolder side flashed through again in a short grin. “The things I endure for friendship.”

  Tucker smiled. “Mind if I stop in later for a cup of coffee?”

  She shrugged, then grabbed at her drape again. “We never turn away a paying customer.”

  Tucker wondered at the wariness that had crept into her smile. It might be the natural reaction to a professional making a personal play for a client. He supposed it probably was unethical, if he was truly a professional—which he wasn’t. He realized he was drawing a fine line, but it was a line.

  “Lillian says Minerva’s pot pie isn’t to be missed. Maybe I’ll stop in for lunch instead.”

  Looking relieved, she said, “I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.” She slid carefully from the table, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpeting a few feet from him.The top of her head came to about his chin, forcing her to look up as she spoke.

  “I’ll be out on buying runs, so I’ll miss you, but Aunt Minnie prides herself on her repeat customers, so we’ll probably bump into each other again.”

  “I don’t plan on being here very long, so I’d really like to—”

  “I really have to get going,” she said apologetically. She backed toward the door. “Thanks again.” She twisted the knob and slipped out before he could do anything to prevent it.

  Tucker stood there for several seconds, mulling over his disappointment, dealing with the fact that it had little to do with solving Lillian’s mystery and a whole lot to do with one Madalaine Cooper. Then another snippet of Lillian’s initial conversation sprang to mind. He snapped his fingers. “Today’s Saturday.” He grinned. Lillian wouldn’t be too happy about losing her masseur on a busy Saturday, but he hoped she’d be mollified when he told her he was “on the case.”

  “Big Sam’s fish market, here I come.”

  THREE

  “Six dollars a pound, Sam? Robbery.” Lainey looked at the selection of orange roughy again. Maybe she’d go with the flounder. Aunt Minnie wouldn’t be thrilled.

  “Five-ninety-nine,” Sam corrected, then raised his hands at her arched brow. “But for you I can maybe make a special. Five-fifty.”

  Lainey held his open gaze for several seconds, knowing Sam expected no less. Like her, he was a transplant from Philly. When Sam had heard from Minerva that her niece hailed from his hometown, he’d developed a special fondness for Lainey. Of course, Sam showed his fondness in his own unique way.

  “Still robbery, Sam. I could go down to Fred’s on Fiftieth and—”

  “That crook wouldn’t know a shark steak from a salmon. You don’t buy from him.” He looked appropriately outraged, but Lainey didn’t miss the gleam in his eye. He appreciated a good haggler. “You buy from me, or I’ll tell your dear sweet aunt Minerva that her niece is harassing the café’s best supplier.”

  Lainey folded her arms, thoroughly enjoying herself. “Who do you think sent me here?”

  Sam chuckled. “You learned from the best too. Don’t you ever forget it.”

  “Think she’d let me?” Lainey countered with a wry grin. “Now, about these underfed roughy you’re trying to pawn off on me.”

  Eyes twinkling, he wiped his hands on his ever-present apron. “Five dollars even. But you take some flounder too. Tell your aunt they’ll be great stuffed with shrimp.”

  “Done. I’ll need four pounds of tiger shrimp. And don’t try to sneak any of those small ones in there.”

  Shaking his head, Sam sighed as if mightily offended and turned toward the back room. “Be right back. Stay out of trouble for a minute.”

  Lainey rolled her eyes, smiling at his retreating form. Her parents had passed away while she was in her midtwenties, leaving Conrad and his mother as her only connection to her hometown. While Lainey didn’t miss the people she’d left behind in Philly, she did miss the city itself. The smells, the sounds, its color and vibrancy. Sam had given some of that back to her. For that alone she’d have paid the five-ninety-nine. Of course, she’d die before telling him that.

  The sound of slow handclaps directly behind her caused her to turn around. “Tucker.”

  He acknowledged her less-than-enthusiastic greeting with a quick nod. “Madelaine. The way you handled old Sam there, I’d swear you were Lillian’s niece, not Minerva’s.”

  “Lainey,” she corrected automatically, not entirely surprised to see him. She’d had a strange feeling that he’d pop up at some point. Still, she was surprised she hadn’t felt his presence behind her. It was the intensity of that very thing that had kept her looking over her shoulder all afternoon.

  She deliberately pushed aside any and all memories of her intoxicating morning spent at the all-too-willing mercy of those talented hands. Goose bumps of remembered pleasure raced over her skin, anyway. She hoped he didn’t notice. In a life marked by impulsive choices, Tucker Morgan was another bad decision waiting to be made. But not this time. Not by her.

  She gave him what she hoped was a confident but not-too-friendly smile. “So what brings you to Sam’s?”

  “You.”

  She’d never heard so much intensity packed into one tiny little word. Her heart skipped a beat without permission. She should have expected the direct approach from him, but she silently acknowledged that no amount of advance preparation would have squelched her instant reaction. Conrad and Charlie had been proof enough that her impulses should be curbed, not encouraged. After Charlie, she’d vowed to work on thinking things through calmly and rationally instead of jumping right in. She’d slipped a bit this morning, but she was firmly back on the wagon now.

  She curved her mouth into a dry smile. “Well, that’s direct. Or didn’t you have a convenient excuse?”

  “Do I need one?” he countered, his own smile making it clear that he was enjoying himself immensely.

  So was she. She felt her wagon start to rock a little. Hurry up, Sam, she silently implored, I’m treading dangerous waters out here. “I suppose not. As they say”—she gestured blithely to the interior of Sam’s shop—“it’s a free market.”

  His gaze was unwavering. “But you’d feel better if I made one up, wouldn’t you?”

  Beating Tucker at his own game was a foolhardy strategy at best.

  “Probably,” she said. “I suppose it would be an easier world if people were more direct about what they wanted. In my experience, it’s usually quite the opposite, and though I am trying to improve, I’m still occasionally guilty of being one of them. But in the spirit of self-improvement, I’ll make another stab at it right now. Tell me, Mr. Morgan, exactly what is it you want of me?”

  He clapped his hands slowly. “Not a bad start. And you sounded oh-so-proper too. Nicely done.”

  Lainey found herself trapped by his gaze. His eyes were making it crystal clear that he hadn’t forgotten one single second of their less-than-proper encounter that morning. But the man was a professional, she argued. Certainly her very average body and less than sparkling wit hadn’t driven him to the boundaries of
his control … as his hands had driven her?

  She snapped her gaze away from his and turned around, suddenly fascinated by the display of tiger shrimp and not feeling the least twinge of guilt over the pretense. Being straightforward wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. At least not where Tucker Morgan was concerned.

  She glanced over her shoulder. “My mother-in-law would be thrilled to hear that anyone thought me proper. Despite exhaustive attempts to mold me, she swore that ‘proper’ was an adjective that would never be used in conjunction with Madelaine Marie Maitland.”

  Instead of the expected chuckle, his gaze sharpened further. She swore that she could feel the heightened alertness in the air. Fish fumes, she told herself. Toxic fish fumes.

  “I thought you said you weren’t married.”

  “I’m not,” she said, returning her attention to the black-and-gray-striped shellfish. “Divorced. I’m plain old Lainey Cooper again.”

  “There is nothing remotely plain about you. And you’re molded just fine, if you ask me. Your former mother-in-law must not be too fine a judge of character.”

  A vision of the horrified expression that would have marred Agatha Maitland’s scrupulously maintained and dignified manner upon hearing that personal indictment had Lainey stifling a laugh. Dismissing the compliment, but intrigued by the absolute certainty of his pronouncement, she abandoned her fascination with the shrimp. She straightened and turned around. “And I suppose you are?”

  “It was more or less my business.”

  “Knowing a person’s character determines how you go about massaging them, Mr. Morgan?”

  “Tucker. And I wasn’t talking about massages. I told you, you were my first client. Ever. It’s a, uh, recent career move for me.”

  “That’s right, you’re here to help out Lillian.” Swapping verbal volleys with Tucker could be as much fun as it was with Sam, providing she didn’t take him too seriously. Although the adrenaline pumping through her veins at the moment felt entirely different from the rush she’d gotten over getting a dollar off a pound of orange roughy. “So what career did you move from that required you to make snap judgments on people’s characters?”

  His grin was all together too disarming. She felt her wagon pick up speed, and she struggled to keep a firm hold on her seat. Although, her little voice argued, if he was only there temporarily, what harm could there be in a little simple flirtation?

  Simple? She smothered a self-deprecating chuckle. Hadn’t she just finished deciding there was nothing simple about flirting or anything else when it came to Tucker Morgan? Her gaze flitted to the stuffed shark mounted on the far wall. A very visual, not to mention timely, reminder of why she shouldn’t play with the big fish.

  “I guess you could say I was a professional bodyguard,” he answered.

  Bodyguard? Oh, but that’s too good, her hormones chimed in. Her mind betrayed her, too, providing full color Kevin Costner-Whitney Houston flashbacks as her wagon careened wildly out of control. She crossed her arms over her suddenly exquisitely sensitive and likely very noticeable nipples.

  “Bodyguard?” She made a discreet attempt to clear the rasp from her throat. “You protected people?” It proved impossible not to look over the body that he’d used to protect them with. His blue eyes were twinkling when hers found their way back to his face. There was no way to hide the blush she felt creeping up her neck.

  “Yep,” he said. “They paid me and everything.”

  “What made you quit? I mean, why did you go from protecting bodies to massaging them?”

  It might have been her imagination, but his eyes seemed to lose a bit of their shine, and his smile suddenly looked more forced than natural.

  “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “That’s none of my business.”

  He shrugged, the flicker of hesitation gone. “Hey, you wanted to know, you asked. You were being direct, right?”

  “It’s being direct without being rude that sometimes trips me up.”

  “Now we’re back to what’s proper. Perhaps that was why your ex-mother-in-law had so much trouble passing on the concept.”

  “Oh, she had rude down to a science. But she managed to convey it ever-so-properly, so there were few who would dare to call her on it.”

  “I take it you were numbered among that few.”

  She gave a short laugh. “That was me. One of the few, the proud, the disowned.”

  “You seem to be doing all right without the formidable Maitlands.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion,” she said darkly, then grinned. “I, however, happen to agree with you. I’ll ignore the fact that you don’t know me very well.”

  “Which brings us to your earlier question. Or should we say, direct request?”

  Her eyebrows furrowed. “Which was?”

  “You asked me why I was here. I’m here because I don’t know you very well and I’d like to remedy that situation.” He raised his hand to stall her response. “I know you’re busy, that’s why I came to Sam’s.”

  “To get to know me while I buy fish?” She paused as another thought struck her. “And how did you know I’d be at Sam’s, anyway?”

  Good question, Tucker. He could hardly tell her the truth. Not at this point, anyway. Yet their discussion about the virtues of being direct had him shifting uncomfortably at the idea of telling her an out-and-out lie. “I mentioned to Lillian that I was going to stop by Minerva’s for lunch, and in the course of our conversation she mentioned something about you buying fish at Sam’s today.” Not exactly the truth, but bottom line, Lillian was his source of information about Sam’s, so he didn’t feel too much like pond scum.

  “So you came down here to … what?”

  To question you on your relationship with a man who appears to be involved in something shady with your aunt. That might be the direct response, but he was pretty certain it would also not get him the information he needed. And in the spirit of being straightforward, at least with himself, it wasn’t the only reason he’d followed her down there. He liked plain old Lainey Cooper. A lot.

  “To spend a little free time with a woman who intrigues me. How’s that for direct and forthright?” He added, “No pressure, Lainey. I mean, we’re at a fish market.”

  “But isn’t there some code or something about professional masseurs and their clients?”

  “You mean getting to know a client away from work?” He was beginning to wish he’d never agreed to help Lillian, much less in the role of masseur. It was only his first day, and already he was getting too tangled up in the deception. Of course, he wouldn’t have met Lainey—at least not in such an interesting manner.

  She nodded.

  He had no idea what the code of ethics was. “Were you planning on scheduling regular appointments with me?”

  He tried not to smile as her skin flushed a deep, delightful shade of red. He was finding himself very drawn to the sexy way she shifted back and forth, at one point gutsy then the next modest. He never knew how she’d react, which was half the fun of provoking her. On second thought, he might owe Lillian a thank-you. He suspected that if he’d met Lainey Cooper through any of the normal, more acceptable social channels, he wouldn’t have seen these multifaceted elements of her personality. At least not quickly enough to become so intrigued.

  “No, I hadn’t really planned to—” At his feigned hurt expression she hastened to add, “Not that it wouldn’t be wonderful. I mean, I told you how much I enjoyed it.” If it was possible, her neck grew even splotchier. She groaned, then looked away. He thought he heard her mutter something about “understatement” as she turned her back to him.

  He closed the distance between them and laid a hand on her shoulder, making her jump slightly. She stilled but didn’t turn around.

  He hadn’t realized how badly he needed to touch her again. Even a light touch on her shoulder set off rockets of awareness in him. “Lainey,” he said gently. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. If it would make you f
eel better, I could explain in great detail exactly how I felt about our morning session.” Or, for that matter, how he was feeling right now, he added silently.

  She whirled around, having to back up a step when she collided with his chest. He caught a fleeting glimpse of what that brief contact did to the front of her T-shirt and worked hard at keeping his eyes trained directly on hers.

  “No, really, that isn’t necessary.” She took a breath and stepped back, but came up short against the display case. “What I mean is, even if I don’t ever see you again professionally, I don’t think it’s … appropriate for me to … for us to …”

  “You wouldn’t feel comfortable seeing me because of how we met, is that it?”

  She sighed in relief. “That’s exactly it.” She laughed self-consciously, but he could see her relaxing. “I’m glad you understand.”

  “Can I ask you one thing?”

  Her relaxed expression tightened a bit, but even as it did, he saw her eyes take on that hint of determination that clued him in to another facet of her character. He watched in fascination as she straightened her shoulders and her grin grew more confident. The bold Lainey was back.

  “Only if you take about three steps back.” She fanned a hand in front of her chest. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are a bit, well, intense.”

  He laughed. “No one has ever mentioned my intensity to me before.”

  “Well, I’m sure they thought it. Take it from me, you’ve got it nailed. I imagine it served you well in your former career. You’re going to be very successful in your new line of work too. But can I make a suggestion?”

  You can make anything you want, he wanted to say. “Shoot.”

  “After you leave Lillian’s, you might want to think about getting a position where the clientele is a bit younger. Not that the older ladies won’t love you, but their hearts aren’t what they used to be, you know?” She folded her arms, apparently satisfied that she’d protected both herself and senior women everywhere from his potentially lethal clutches. “Now what was it you wanted to ask me?”