Chapter THIRTEEN
AUSTIN RUSHED TO his laptop and tapped a few keys to make sure he’d caught Leah’s earlier phone conversation in her bedroom.
As he waited for the VLC—VideoLan—program to boot up, he glanced around the room to make sure nothing might give him away. At home, had he been waiting for some female company, he’d be looking for misplaced dirty socks and attempting to do a fast change of the sheets. He hadn’t been here long enough to leave out dirty clothes, and the bed wasn’t part of this equation. Tonight wasn’t about getting and giving mutual sexual satisfaction. But damn if the idea didn’t appeal to him. The vision of her nipples playing peek-a-boo behind her lace bra filled his head.
Damn it! Tonight was about getting information. Nevertheless, the anticipation low in his belly didn’t share his plan.
His eyes hit on the plastic baggie holding the gun on the coffee table. “Shit.” That would for sure have her asking questions. He looked at his watch. Nance, the makeshift delivery guy who would be transporting the gun back to his partners, should be here any minute. He found a plastic grocery bag and hid the gun inside. Knotting the top of the bag, he set it on the bar between the kitchen and living room. Easy reach if Nance showed up while she was there.
And if that happened, he’d improvise to explain who he was and what he was passing off. Suddenly remembering how well improvising had gone for him yesterday, he formed a plan… Nance, an associate of the guy he was working for, had left his wallet in Austin’s truck. Feasible. Believable.
He walked back to his computer and checked the screen. He’d set each bug at a different frequency, given them names, and had set his backup disk with a voice-activated program to save all the segments with sound. He already had several files in the program—most of which were from her living room. Then he saw a file saved as “bedroom, 17:24.”
Not wanting to turn the volume up in case she walked in, he looked around for the Best Buy bag, which held a set of headphones. Spotting the bag in the kitchen, he got up and saw the phone book opened to a local Italian place. He’d been planning on ordering pizza for him and Nance.
Not anymore. Hopefully, he would be having dinner with Leah. And if he ordered it now, she couldn’t say no.
Snatching the phone, he dialed the number as he shot into the kitchen to collect the headphones. He ordered a large pizza, and remembering her frozen mushroom pizza, he made it just mushroom. It wouldn’t be as good as his homemade pizza with pepperoni and all the fixings, but he’d take what he could get.
While he called out his credit card number, he used a knife to open the earphone package. He’d just gotten them out when his doorbell rang.
Crap. He wasn’t going to get to hear her conversation before she arrived. Resigned, he set the headphones down, changed his computer screen, and went to answer the knock.
Leah or Nance? He didn’t bother to check the peephole. He opened the door.
Turned out it wasn’t either one. He heard Leah’s door open.
Oh, shit, this wasn’t good.
Since Sara’s son had skipped his regular afternoon nap, he went down early. She stood by his bed and stared at his perfect little face, perfect little hands and toes. Awake, he was a handful. Asleep, he was an angel. Her angel. And moments like this, she accepted that whatever she had to sacrifice to keep him happy and safe was a small price to pay. If that meant she went to bed lonely, so be it.
Single moms date all the time. She remembered Leah’s words. Sara wasn’t stupid, she knew they did.
She also knew she shouldn’t feel guilty for wanting to be a part of that crowd. But wanting it and figuring out how to fit it into her life was different. Sure, she could find a sitter once a week and go out and get laid. And yes, Leah was right. She was horny. But she didn’t just want sex. She wanted… more. She wanted the fantasy. She wanted what the couple had in the ice cream shop. She wanted to be somebody’s everything. Wanted that wonderful gooey-feeling connection two people shared.
She recalled the strange phone call she’d had with Roberto. You weren’t wrong. The connection was there.
Had he been lying about that? No, she didn’t think so, which made it even worse. Her heart clutched thinking how it must have hurt him to lose a child. His wife, too. But a child; that seemed too much to overcome.
Moving into her bedroom, she fell back on her bed. Little Bit, her gray cat, came to collect some TLC. When the sound of the cat’s automatic feeder went off, the feline dove off the mattress, proving the animal chose food over TLC.
Wanting to chase away the blues, Sara reached for the romance novel—a loaner book from her mom, who was an avid reader—on her bedside table. According to her mom, a widow for nine years, if they couldn’t have the real thing, they could at least have the fantasy. Not that her mom hadn’t moved past just dreaming about it. In the last six months, she had started dating again.
Turning on her reading lamp, Sara found where she’d left off and got submersed in another world. And just when that fantasy got hot—the heroine’s bra getting unclasped—Sara’s phone rang.
She checked the bedside clock. Her mom. She called each and every night to say good night to Brian. Setting the book down, she picked up her phone. “Sorry, he’s already in bed. And so are the characters in the book. They’re about to do the deed. Bad timing.”
“Brian’s already down?” her mom said. “I missed him?”
“Sorry, I called you. He missed his afternoon nap and he practically fell asleep in the bathtub. I had to carry him to bed.”
“Poor fellow,” her mom said.
“Hey, I’d kill for someone to pull me out of the bathtub and carry me to bed.”
Her mom’s sigh filled the line. “Just keep reading. It’s a great book. Have you gotten to the hot tub scene?” Her mom giggled.
“No,” Sara said. “The heroine just burned dinner, and she and the hero are getting naked for the first time.”
A click came on the line. “Oh, I think that’s Harry,” her mom said. “He’s taking me to San Antonio to a hotel with a hot tub. I’ll call you back in one minute.”
Frowning, Sara dropped the phone in her lap. Wasn’t it in some rule book that a mother shouldn’t be getting luckier than her daughter? And in a hot tub? The images flashing in her mind weren’t pretty. Harry was… well, hairy. Sara didn’t mind a little body hair, it was masculine, but this man had locks of gray hair trying to crawl out of his shirt.
Oh, goodness, she wasn’t sure she could enjoy the book’s hot tub scene now. But after a second, she picked up the book again.
It took one line to pull her back in. The bra strap slipped off her left shoulder.
Moaning from yet another interruption, she snagged her ringing phone. “The panties are coming off. Can I call you back after the deed is done?”
“Say what?” Two words, spoken in that deep tone—that’s all it took for Sara to recognize his voice. Two words for her to feel like a complete and utter idiot.
Oh, sure, he’d said he would call her back, but she hadn’t believed it.
“I thought you were my mom.” She realized that didn’t sound much better than the first statement. “We were discussing a book and… she was calling me right back. Then you called and…”
He laughed. A masculine sexy laugh. A little rusty, as if he hadn’t used it in a while, but the kind of laugh that made a woman want to soak it up.
Or maybe she was just caught up in the scene. The line beeped.
“That’s my mom. I should…”
“Call me when the scene’s over.” He chuckled again.
Her face grew warm. She hung up. She didn’t say bye. Frankly, she’d already said too much.
Embarrassed beyond embarrassed, she debated not answering her mom’s call, but knowing her mom she’d just call back.
“So what scene are you on?” her mom asked.
“The first love scene.” Her face was still hot, but she was happy her mom didn’t want to discuss her upcoming hot tub weekend. She loved her mom and appreciated her no-topic’s-off-limit approach, but when it came to her mom’s sex life, the less Sara knew, the better. “Can we talk tomorrow?”
“You okay?” Leave it to her mom to pick up on her emotional cues.
“Fine. We’ll chat tomorrow.” She dropped the phone and buried her face in her pillow. While she could cry from the embarrassment, she started laughing instead. Wait until she told Leah this one. Or maybe she wouldn’t tell Leah. Oh, yeah, she would. They told each other most everything.
Call me back when… the scene’s over. His words floated through her head.
Not happening. He’d explained why he didn’t want to get involved with her. She could respect that. And the only reason he’d called her back in the first place was because… because their call earlier had been interrupted. Basically, there was nothing more to say.
Which was a shame. His laugh played in her mind. Yup, a shame. Especially if he was telling the truth about not having a criminal past, or being on any meds. He might have been one of the first good guys she was attracted to.
Austin stared at the blonde in his doorway, holding a plate of cookies in front of her oversized breasts. It was the same blonde he’d seen earlier today when he’d been bleeding. Leah’s apartment door opened.
“Hi,” the blonde said. Austin’s gaze flipped from Leah’s door to the blonde. “I’m Tina, your neighbor.” She shot him a sexy smile. “That eye looks bad.” She paused. “I saw you earlier…”
Leah, a bottle of wine in her hands, gazed at Blondie and frowned.
Oh, hell.
The elevator, a few feet down from his apartment, dinged. Nance walked out.
Leah put it in reverse, moving back into her apartment.
“No!” He looked at the blonde. “Excuse me.” He slipped the rest of the way out his door and caught Leah. “Please. Come on in.”
She frowned. “Why don’t—”
“No. Come inside.” Gently, he moved her past the frowning blonde and her cookies, and ushered her inside his apartment. He swung back to the door, purposely centering the threshold so Leah couldn’t slip out, and the cookie carrier couldn’t slip in.
He remembered Nance. The dark-skinned nineteen-year-old kid stood in front of the elevator, smiling, as if reading the scene all wrong.
Austin held up a finger to Nance asking for a second, then glanced back at the blonde. His gaze zeroing in on her exposed cleavage before he could stop himself. She might have been holding a plate of cookies that looked like Thin Mints, but she was no Girl Scout.
“What were you saying?” he asked her.
“I…” She looked at Nance and then back at him. “I wanted to welcome you to the apartment.”
“Thank you for the welcome and for the cookies.” He took the plate, offered one polite good-bye nod, then stepped inside and shut the door.
“One second,” he told Leah, who stood staring with a frown. “I gotta give this… the kid… the one out there. He left his wallet in my car.” He dropped the plate of cookies on the bar and grabbed the bagged gun. Smiling, trying not to react to the apparent chaos, he shot back into the hall and shut the door behind him.
His neighbor was halfway down the hall. Nance hadn’t moved, except to turn his head to watch the blonde as she sashayed off.
“Hey,” he said to Nance.
The kid’s head jerked back. Laughter lit up his brown eyes. “Two women. Did one of them give you that shiner?”
“No.” He tried to come up with a short explanation. Then quit trying. “Here.” He handed him the bag. “Get it to Dallas ASAP to give to his brother and see if we get a name on who owned it. Tell Dallas to call me as soon as he gets something.” He looked back over his shoulder. “And thanks. I owe you.”
Nance looked puzzled. “I thought you were buying me dinner.”
“Yeah. I need a rain check.”
The kid smiled. “Ah, hell, I’d do the same if I had a woman in my apartment. But I have to tell you, the one you sent packing got my vote. She looked more ready to… you know.”
Austin frowned. “This isn’t… I’m just…” Why ruin the boy’s fantasy. “Bye.” He turned for the door.
He grabbed the knob, then hesitated. He recalled Leah’s expression when he walked out. Several years back, he’d actually screwed up and invited two different women over. One left pissed off, and the other stayed only long enough to dump the chili he’d made for her in his lap.
Tonight might not go well.
Cautiously walking into his apartment, he spotted Leah sitting on his sofa smiling and talking on her cell. Who was she talking to? She glanced up. His shoulders relaxed when she didn’t frown or start throwing the fake apples in the wire basket on the coffee table at him.
“Yes. I know. But just to be safe.” She nipped on her bottom lip while she listened to the person on the other end of the line.
Austin studied her. She’d changed clothes. She wore a pink long-sleeve tee and jeans. Not skintight jeans like the ones the neighbor had poured herself into, but fitting enough to show off her shape. He remembered Nance saying he’d have preferred the blonde. The kid had no taste.
“I know,” she continued. “I love you. I will.”
Who did Leah Reece love?
“Later.” She ended the call. “My brother.” She looked relaxed for the first time since she came home. “He finally called me.”
Austin nodded, assuming it was her younger brother she spoke about. But he could be wrong. “Yeah, you were worried about him… being out of town, right?”
She nodded.
When she didn’t elaborate, he asked, “So everything’s okay?”
“Yeah.” Her gaze shifted to the bar, or rather to the plate of cookies, then back to him. “So you took my earlier advice, huh?”
“What advice?”
“To go meet the neighbor.”
He shook his head. “No. I didn’t… This was the first time… We saw each other earlier, but we barely spoke.”
“She brought you cookies.” Leah reached for one of the apples from the bowl.
She didn’t throw it at him though; she just turned it in her hand and then replaced it. He looked at the plate of cookies. “I think they’re store bought.”
“Just the cookies?” she asked, and grinned.
He laughed. “Probably those, too.”
She put a finger over her lips to hide the widening smile and then spoke behind the digit. “That was bad of me. I’ll bet she’s a nice girl.”
“Probably.” He couldn’t help wondering exactly what it was about Leah’s conversation with her brother that put her in a good mood.
“Are you ready for some wine?” He nodded to the bottle on his coffee table. And if they needed more, he had another bottle. “The pizza should be here shortly.” He stepped toward the kitchen to grab the glasses.
“Pizza?” she asked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”
He looked back. See, he’d known she’d fight him on this. “I already ordered it.”
She stood and tucked her phone in her pocket, her expression no longer playful. “I really think your head is fine now. I should—”
He stepped closer to her. “Don’t run out on me.” When she still looked about to refuse, he threw down his last card. “It’s the least you can do after I…” broke into your place and got caught by a real intruder, “… got this.” He pointed at his eye.
She hesitated; he continued. “Doesn’t getting a black eye earn a guy a couple hours of your company?”
She still didn’t answer, so he went for the kill. “I ordered mushroom, regular crust. I know you like mushroom because that’s what you got at the store.”