Tease Me Page 7

  She searched his eyes. He didn’t blame her for being wary, for looking for reassurance. Her lips parted, but she said nothing. Tucker drew closer, moved his head a fraction of an inch closer, then stopped. Don’t push, he schooled himself. Don’t rush. Hasty decisions. Impatience. Bad judgments. Not this time, he vowed, not with him.

  “Lainey, I—”

  The abrupt movement of the swinging doors had them all but leaping apart. Minerva bustled in, and if she was surprised to see the two of them behind the counter, she didn’t show it.

  On closer inspection, he noticed her eyes were on full twinkle. Tucker’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. Just who had been eavesdropping on whom?

  “I thought I heard you out here,” she said to Lainey. “Betty Louise is having another one of her spells.”

  “I’m sure a slice of your yogurt chiffon pie put her to rights,” Lainey said with what looked to Tucker like a relieved smile. She was relieved he hadn’t kissed her?

  And, oh, he wanted to kiss Lainey Cooper. If he were completely honest, he’d admit that kissing was only the beginning of what he wanted to do for, to, and with Lainey Cooper.

  “Well, I thank you both for holding down the fort out here for me,” Minerva said as she moved the coffeepot back to the warmer and rinsed out the pickle-juice bowl in the sink. She dried her hands on a fresh towel as she turned to face them both. “Of course, I have no idea what you’re doing in here on your day off,” she said to Lainey, then turned her warmest, most grandmotherly smile on Tucker. He resisted the urge to stand straighter. “She’s such a dear, but she has no idea how to relax.” Lainey sputtered, but Minerva talked right over her. “According to Lillian, neither do you,” she added, quelling Tucker’s smug smile and earning him a smirk from Lainey. “So why don’t you both do yourselves a favor and go out and enjoy the sunshine? You’ll have plenty of time to stay indoors when you’re old and wrinkled like me.”

  Before he could figure out how to stop her, Tucker found himself standing next to Lainey on the sidewalk in front of the café.

  “We’ve been evicted,” he said.

  “I’d say more like hornswoggled.” She glanced back at the door. “I adore my aunt, but sometimes she’s a wee bit pushy.”

  “Lainey, a handcart is a wee bit pushy. Your aunt Minerva is a bulldozer. But you gotta give her points on style.”

  “You’re too forgiving, believe me.”

  “She’s forever in my favor on the merits of her blueberry muffins alone.” He rubbed his stomach with remembered reverence.

  Lainey gasped in mock horror. “She tortured you with muffins? My God, man, I can’t blame you for caving.” She clasped a hand to her chest and leaned closer. In a dramatic tone she whispered, “Did you tell all?”

  Chuckling, he shook his head. “Saved by Betty Louise Strickmeyer.”

  “Well, it’s nice to know the woman’s spells are good for something.”

  She’d said it teasingly, but Tucker had heard the underlying irritation. His mind jumped back to the you-know-who situation. “Yeah, she seemed a bit wired when she rushed in. I guess every circle has to have their drama queen.”

  “Please, whatever you do, spare us all and don’t ever let her hear you say that.”

  He crossed his heart. “You have my solemn vow.”

  She smiled and nodded, but the silence grew from a brief pause to an uncomfortable lag. “Well, enjoy the rest of your day. Hope your hand is okay.”

  Tucker didn’t want her to go. His reasons had little to do with the mystery he was in charge of solving, but it was as good a reason as any to keep her around. Whatever had caused Betty Louise’s “spell” apparently involved Lainey, which meant she was tied up in this somehow. He wasn’t sure if he should explain everything to her yet, but until he was, the best plan would be to keep her with him. “You in a hurry to go somewhere?”

  Her expression sobered, and she shifted from one foot to the other. “Well, there are some things I should be—”

  “There’s a park near here, isn’t there?” he asked, not giving her time to come up with an excuse.

  “There’s one two blocks from here, by the water-front.”

  “Do you have time to show me?”

  “It’s straight ahead that way,” she said, pointing down the street behind him.

  He gave her his most winning smile. “I get lost easily.”

  She propped her hands on her hips, but a smile kicked around the corners of her mouth. “There’s a big body of water at the end of the street. It’s called the Gulf of Mexico. You can’t miss it. The park is right in front of it. If your feet get wet, you’ve gone too far.”

  “I appreciate that, but I still need you to come with me.”

  “Why do you need me to go with you?”

  An amazing list of reasons why he needed her by his side sprang easily to mind, but he offered the one that was most likely to get him what he wanted.

  “How else are you going to find out what I was really doing behind Minerva’s counter?”

  FIVE

  He had her there, Lainey thought, her curiosity piqued despite her internal alarm system, which was telling her to vacate the premises immediately before she did something rash and foolish instead of doing the sensible thing, which was finding out what had caused Betty Louise’s spell.

  Had Betty Louise seen her talking to Damian? she wondered with renewed frustration. He’d cleaned up nicely since their days in college together, but he was still a weasel under the expensive clothes and polished speech.

  She’d had another heart-to-heart with her aunt the previous day, and Minerva had finally admitted that she had become an investor in a land deal she’d heard about while catering a luncheon at the hotel several weeks earlier. Bernice and Betty Louise had been with her and had also decided to get in on the deal. Minnie hadn’t wanted to discuss it because the window of opportunity had been small, and the three had decided to keep it to themselves so that no one’s feelings would get hurt over not being included.

  She hadn’t discussed it with Lainey, because, after the incident with Charlie, she hadn’t wanted to worry her niece unnecessarily. Lainey’d tried to question her further about the specifics of the deal but had gotten nowhere. Minerva had reassured her that it was a sound deal that would make her more comfortable in her retirement and to not worry about it any longer.

  But Lainey was worried. Then she’d spotted Damian in town again and warning bells had gone off in her head. Minerva hadn’t mentioned his name in conjunction with the company she’d dealt with—something Lainey had planned to track down that afternoon—but when she’d tried to get some answers, he’d smoothly evaded her questions and more or less politely warned her to back off.

  “Lainey?”

  She snapped her attention back to Tucker. She really didn’t have time for this right now. Still … what had he been doing behind the counter?

  Almost kissing you, that’s what. Her body grew warmer at the memory of the intent way he’d focused on her mouth and how she’d felt when he’d started to move closer, his intentions clear in his dark blue eyes. She swallowed a sigh. Of relief? It should be, she scolded herself. She had no business thinking about, much less participating in, a kiss or anything else with Tucker Morgan.

  She’d sworn to start being more practical, less impulsive. Her reaction to Tucker was all the proof she needed that she wasn’t even close to achieving her goal. Her aunt and her friends needed her, and she needed to be calm and levelheaded if she was going to help them. She couldn’t seem to be either around this bodyguard-turned-masseur.

  “If you really have things to do—”

  She almost jumped when he touched her arm. “I …” I really have to go, she prompted herself to say, but what came out was “I guess a short break won’t hurt.”

  Any remorse she felt over her continued failure to rehabilitate herself was extinguished by his brilliant smile. The man was certainly not difficult to look at.

&nb
sp; Conrad hadn’t been either, she reminded herself. Yeah, but Conrad, sweet, rich, and rebelling against his family’s stuffy attitudes—which had been a large part of why she’d impulsively decided to elope with him after a one-month whirlwind romance—had turned out to be a spineless wimp who quickly reverted to his mother’s domineering control. So what if he happened to clean up nicely? He’d had the carte blanche help of his mother’s charge accounts, New York City’s finest personal tailors, and the entire staff at Estée Lauder. Despite the fact that her romantic bubble had burst shortly after the honeymoon, Lainey had stuck it out for seven years. Yet all of those things combined hadn’t been enough to transform her into the proper society matron that Conrad and his mother were determined the wife of Conrad Maitland III must be.

  Whereas Tucker … He only demanded that she be herself. And there was nothing remotely wimpy about his spine or anything else. He’d look good in a burlap sack. Or out of one for that matter. She abruptly shut off that train of thought and turned around. “Well, what are we waiting for?” she said a bit more briskly than she’d intended. “The gulf beckons.”

  She felt Tucker’s gaze drilling into her back, but she refused to look at him or stop. If she were smart, she’d start running and never look back. No, if you were smart, her inner voice countered, you’d be in the café right now politely grilling Betty Louise over yogurt chiffon, then tracking down that weasel Damian and finding some way to convince him to put an end to this mess.

  Instead she faced at least an hour at the park with the man she’d sworn to herself, not once, but several times, that she should stop spending any time with. Not doing so good on this impulse thing, are you, Lainey?

  “Are you coming,” she called out, irritated with herself and Tucker, “or are you going to stand there all day staring at my backside?”

  He caught up to her easily. “Not that watching your rear end isn’t an entirely worthy pastime, but I’d prefer your charming company instead.”

  She made a harrumphing sound worthy of Irma’s best and strode on. She could see the sparkle of water in the distance. Almost there. She’d use the walk to plan her strategy, point out one or two points of interest to Tucker, then bail out and go back to the café. There, she felt better already. Maybe she had grown. Maybe she could handle Tucker after all. This was actually a good way to prove how much she’d changed.

  He kept up with her accelerated pace while managing to keep his own stride loose and easy. “Call me old-fashioned, but I sort of imagined a stroll to the park.”

  “That’s what we’re doing,” she answered between breaths.

  “No, this is definitely not strolling. This is more like stomping. Or striding with fierce determination.” When she scowled at him and sped up, he reached for her arm and forced her to slow down. “You know, I think your aunt is right. You have no idea how to relax.”

  Lainey stopped abruptly. Tucker almost dragged her another two feet before he managed to switch gears and stop too.

  “I can relax just fine,” she said, pulling her arm from his grasp. “I simply can’t relax around you.” She hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud, and his intent expression told her it was a mistake she was about to pay for dearly.

  Eyes bright with heightened awareness, he stepped closer. She made herself stay where she was. She could resist him and his charm. She would. Had to. In fact, this challenge would be her personal gauntlet, she decided. Madelaine Cooper was going to prove once and for all that she could control her impulses and let her head rule her heart. And her hormones.

  “And why do you think that is?” he asked. “What am I doing to make you tense up? We’re just walking. Or trying to.” He took another step.

  Lainey stood straighter and held her ground, feeling like a gunslinger at high noon who was facing down the last fast gun. “It probably has something to do with the fact that we met under very unusual circumstances and I am having a hard time adjusting to … to …” He stepped closer. She swallowed hard. Even gunslingers got ten paces.

  “What is there to adjust to, Lainey? You put one foot in front of the other, and before you know it, you’re walking.”

  His too-amused expression rankled. She raised her chin. “This isn’t about walking. You’ll have to forgive me, but I’m not used to being nearly naked with a man one day—professionally naked that is,” she added hurriedly, when something that wasn’t close to amusement sparked in his blue eyes, “then dealing with him on a social level the next.”

  Proud of herself, she mentally blew the smoke from her steaming pistol.

  He stepped even closer, angling his body so that he was directly in front of her, blocking the sun, which cast his face in deep shadows. “Exactly how many days, then, do you need?” he asked in a slow drawl that would make any fast gun proud. “Between being naked with me—professionally naked, that is—and being social?”

  It was possible, she thought shakily, that she’d reholstered her gun a bit too quickly. Or perhaps her aim had been off.

  “Nearly naked. I was nearly naked,” she corrected, the distinction minor but for some reason crucial. “And there aren’t enough days to make it okay. I thought we had this all settled back at Sam’s.”

  “ ‘All this’ being?”

  “You know.” She waved her hand in a jerky motion in the tiny space between them. “This. Us.”

  “We’re an ‘us’?”

  Humor flickered in his oh-so-charming baby blues, along with what, to anyone else, probably looked like desire. Hot, deep, not easily quenched desire. But she wasn’t fooled, no, not her. He didn’t really desire her. It was the game, the chase. He was toying with her, she told herself. Yes, that was certainly it. And he had to be stopped before he … before she … Well, he just had to stop, period.

  “No, we’re not an ‘us,’ ” she countered. “That’s the whole point here. I’m a client and you’re a … a …”

  “Masseur?”

  “A service professional,” she corrected hastily but firmly, ignoring the instant visuals the mere word masseur brought to mind. “And service professionals shouldn’t confuse a client with a potential date.”

  “There is only one thing I’m confused about.”

  The space between them was rapidly shrinking, figuratively and literally. Her shots had gone wide. “What?” she asked, feeling the figurative pistol slip from her grasp. Oh, how did she get herself into these things?

  “Do you plan to book future appointments with me?” he asked.

  She saw the trap immediately. Hah, she’d show him. “Yes,” she said on impulse, “in fact, I do. I—I was just telling Aunt Minerva this morning how wonderful you—That is to say, how professional you were and how skilled your hands—” She stopped and drew a short breath. “I’m still technically a client,” she finished, clinging to one last scrap of pride.

  “Then, as your service professional, I recommend a nice stroll to the park. A perfect way to relax tense muscles.”

  She blew out the breath she’d been holding. She’d never had a chance. “Sure. Why not.” She stepped around him, focused her attention on the water ahead, and determined not to stop until she was ankle deep in it. Just because she’d lost the showdown did not mean she’d failed her gauntlet test. She’d gotten him to admit that their relationship was strictly professional, which was, the way she saw it, a point scored for her. Feeling better, she smiled.

  He caught her arm before she’d gone even a foot. “Stroll, Lainey. Like this.” He slid his hand along her shoulders as smoothly as if he’d been doing it for years. She fit against his side just as easily. He reached behind him with his free hand and tugged at her elbow, which was wedged between them. “And like this,” he said, sliding her arm around his waist.

  “This doesn’t seem very professional to me,” she said, but didn’t quite manage to pull her arm away.

  He slanted a glance at her. “I’m teaching you how to relax. Professional to client.”

  Sh
e eyed him warily.

  “Think of how pleased Minerva will be.”

  Oh, she’d be pleased, all right, Lainey thought crossly. Despite her aunt’s outward approval of Lainey’s decision to abstain from a social life until she’d established some new boundaries for herself, she knew that, in Minerva’s old-fashioned heart, her goal—along with half the citizens of Sunset Shores, it seemed—was to see Lainey happily married. Of course, even Minerva would have to agree that Tucker Morgan wasn’t suitable means for achieving either of those goals. Wouldn’t she?

  Lainey slanted a quick look at Tucker’s face. His expression was as easy and open as he was. Friendly. Handsome. Funny. Honest. And, she recalled, her arm tingling along the smooth sway of his waist, he had a really nice butt. He was solid and warm and … reassuring. Minerva probably loved him. And the fact that he was a personal friend and protégé of Lillian’s had probably sealed her fate.

  “What was that sigh for?” he asked. “Is this really bothering you?” He stopped and turned her to face him, holding her shoulders in his big, very capable hands. His teasing manner was gone. In fact, he looked remarkably sincere. “Okay, no more word games and subtle evasions. I enjoy your company, Lainey. In fact, I went to the café in the hopes of seeing you.”

  “I thought we—”

  “Shh. Let me finish. A professional-client only relationship is not what I want, but I learned as a child that I don’t always get what I want. I can take it, Lainey.” He flashed a quick grin. “Okay, so I might pout and whine a little, but all us guys are little boys at heart. You’ll have to cut me a little slack on that.”

  “Little boys at heart.” He’d hit her biggest problem square on the nail head. Teasing grins. Sheepish explanations. Adorable pouts. Wheedling requests. They never failed to tug at her heart. Conrad had mastered them all. Which was why it had taken her so long to figure out how little he truly cared for her. Charlie had been smoother in his delivery, but she’d still been suckered right in.