by Kenner, J.
She sucked in a breath of air, then slowly let it out. “So there you go. I’m not the woman you thought I was.”
“No,” he said softly, her stomach twisting with that horrible word. “You’re even more amazing.”
“What?” She couldn’t possibly have heard him right.
“To go through all that? To survive?”
“But I stole that money.”
“I know. Doesn’t change my impression of you.”
“I—” But that was all she could get out. She’d been living with the secret—the guilt—for so long that to have someone be so matter-of-fact completely threw her off her game.
“I’m not saying you can pull it out of the bank and start running around town buying cars and diamonds. But I am saying that there are a lot of mitigating circumstances involved in what you did. How much money are we talking about, by the way?”
“A hundred and twenty-seven thousand.”
“And how much do you have left?”
“A hundred and seventeen thousand. And change. All neat and tidy in a safe deposit box.”
He actually laughed. “Almost a decade and you’ve only spent ten thousand? What on?”
“I told you, I used my mom’s money first, and for all the stuff I had to do to get my fake IDs. I never, never wanted to touch my father’s money. But later, I needed tuition money. And a place to live. And I figured that my dad owed me as much. Hell, even if Beau had taken me, he’d have put me someplace to live.”
She flashed a wry smile. “Not that Beau would look at it like that. Or the cops for that matter. Oh. I mean … shit.”
His soft chuckle filled the air between them and his palm closed more tightly around her ankle. “Forget who you’re sitting with?”
“For a bit. Yeah.”
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to slap my cuffs on you. Not for the money stash, anyway. But I can think of some other uses—ouch!”
“Watch it, mister, or the next kick will be real.” She tried to sound stern, but she couldn’t hide her relief. “You’re really not going to, well, do anything?”
“I’m going to do a lot.” He lifted her legs, then shifted them both until he was sitting by the armrest and she was in his lap. For a moment, she studied his face, though without a moon, she could read nothing in his eyes. The night was too dark. And so she simply rested her head on his shoulder and let the cadence of his voice soothe her.
“I’m going to find that bastard, for one thing.”
“Good,” she murmured, her lids starting to get heavy now that the adrenaline rush had faded.
“I’m going to talk to a lawyer about working out a deal for you to turn what’s left of the money over to the Arkansas police in exchange for testimony against Beau and your father.”
“My dad’s already in prison. I looked him up once. He killed somebody outside of a liquor store. But if it’ll keep him behind bars longer, I’ll repeat the whole sordid story again.”
“The bottom line is that we’re going to get you clear.”
Tears clogged her throat as she nodded. “Beau trashed your house because of me. And yet here you are, doing everything you can to help me.”
He brushed her hair off her face, then gently stroked her cheek. “Well, in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m rather fond of you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said, then kissed her so tenderly that she almost started crying all over again. This time, from joy. Because for the first time, she truly felt like she wasn’t alone in this. And that felt just fine.
Chapter Thirteen
For the next few days, Landon didn’t let her out of his sight.
He told himself it was because he was afraid that she’d get spooked and leave again, but the warm, wonderful truth was that he didn’t believe that. So he told himself he was sticking close because he was afraid that Beau would find her on his parents’ property.
But that was bullshit, too.
No, the real reason that he stuck like glue wasn’t because he feared for her safety, but simply because he was a selfish man who wanted her beside him. He wanted to reach out and touch at his leisure. To hold her close at night. To walk with her, laugh with her. To simply be with her.
“She’s all I think about,” he confessed to his mom, and Gayle had just laughed. “Landon Ware, I can’t believe it. You’re finally in love.”
Was he?
He thought back to his days—and his nights—with Vanessa. The truth was, with his wife, it had been more about the nights. They’d had decent chemistry—though in retrospect it was nothing compared to the intensity of the connection between him and Taylor—but with Vanessa, it had been almost all about the sex.
Thinking back now, he couldn’t remember a substantive conversation with Vanessa that didn’t involve sex or her fears for her safety and his. With Taylor, in the days they’d been together they’d talked about everything from television shows to home renovations to the process of setting up a fake identity. And sex. Though that subject tended to lead to practical demonstrations instead of intellectual ponderings.
They’d also talked about the situation, and although they were staying at Landon’s parents, they’d made daily excursions into Austin, spending time on campus near the drama department and also downtown at The Fix. The idea was to draw Beau out—to reiterate to him that despite his real estate shenanigans, Taylor and Landon were a couple—but there’d been no sign of him for days.
Other reasons for Landon’s excursions into downtown Austin were to check in with his friends at the APD—no news there, either—and to arrange a meeting with Easton Wallace, a prominent local attorney who both Taylor and Landon knew from The Fix.
Now, Landon stood in the reception area of Easton’s office, frowning as his secretary explained that Easton was traveling, but would be back in the office before the end of the week. With that timeline in hand, Landon scheduled an appointment, asking that Easton please meet them in the back bar area at The Fix.
“Why not his office?” Taylor asked as they rode the elevator back down to the first floor.
“I want us to be as public as possible. Anything to catch his attention.”
She frowned, but nodded.
He kissed her forehead right before the elevator doors opened. “Scared?”
Her lips curved into an ironic smile. “Definitely, but I was thinking about all the non-public things I enjoy doing with you. Too bad we have to play out the public side of this charade at all.”
Her words lit a fire in him that only got hotter when they’d returned to Dripping Springs, and he’d taken her straight through the house to his old bedroom, then made love to her slowly for most of the afternoon.
Later, as they lay naked in each others arms, Taylor rolled over, then propped herself up, her elbows on his bare chest. “I liked doing nothing with you this afternoon,” she murmured, her eyes never leaving his.
He reached up and stroked her silky hair, enjoying the way it trailed over his body now that it was falling loose around her face and wasn’t tied back in her usual ponytail. “Me, too,” he admitted. Then he grinned. “I could get used to this,” he said, repeating the words he’d spoken to her after their first time together.
Only this time when he said it, what he meant was, I love you.
* * *
Up until the moment they actually met with Easton in a quiet corner of the small back bar section of The Fix, Taylor had been terrified by the prospect of revealing all her secrets to anyone other than Landon. But then Easton had arrived wearing an air of cool confidence and trustworthiness as prominently as he wore his perfectly tailored gray suit, and her hesitations evaporated.
She’d officially retained him earlier that day over the phone, and at the same time, he’d suggested that Landon retain him as well, ostensibly so that they could all three freely discuss any legal ramifications of Landon’s continuing to help her now that he knew about the stolen drug money.
; “Oh, God,” she’d said. “He’s like aiding and abetting, isn’t he?”
Easton had only chuckled and told her that at the moment, his only concern was letting them both speak to him with each other present without waiving the attorney-client privilege. “That means Landon needs to be my client, too,” he’d said.
Now at The Fix, he reminded them both that, “Anything you tell me is protected by the privilege. I’m like a vault. So you can tell me anything.”
It was the perfect thing to say to calm her nerves. Even more, the fact that he’d taken such care to make sure that Landon could be with her during this key conversation, ensured that Taylor was not only relaxed, but trusted him completely.
She had no idea if Easton knew the law, but he definitely knew people. And she figured that was half the game.
After that, it was easy to dive in and tell him the same story that she’d told Landon. He let her do most of the talking, only interrupting for clarification before he wrote a note on his yellow legal pad.
When she finally sat back, finished, Easton asked Landon about the results of the search for outstanding warrants.
“Several in Arkansas. Mostly drug related. But I got a text this morning. He’s got an outstanding warrant in Louisiana. A murder charge. Apparently the prosecution had an airtight case, but the judge let him out on bail before trial. He skipped.”
“You manage to catch him, then you can pretty much guarantee that between the Louisiana and Arkansas warrants, your buddy Beau will be going away for a nice, long time.”
“Exactly,” Landon said, then reached under the table for her hand and held it tight. “Hopefully so long his sorry face never sees the sky without there being bars or a fence between him and the view.”
“Cheers to that,” she said, then took a sip of the beer she’d ordered when they’d first arrived.
They moved on to the money next, and Easton’s thoughts pretty much tracked what Landon had outlined, only in a lot more detail. Still, the bottom line was that she returned the money, but didn’t end up with any dings against her because she’d also testify against him and her father. Not to mention Beau’s entire organization.
“What about the money I spent?”
“I’m hoping that they’ll consider your testimony valuable enough to call it even,” Easton told her. “He shifted his attention to Landon. “No sign of Harkness recently?”
“Nothing, and we’ve been coming into Austin and being very public together at The Fix and around campus for over a week now.”
Easton nodded slowly. “Could be he gave up and went home, but I don’t believe it. He’s biding his time. And you either wait, or you draw him out.”
“Not much luck there,” she said. “But I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do. Strip naked and frolic on Sixth Street?”
“Maybe something close to that,” Landon said.
She thought he was joking, but when she turned to shoot him a be serious look, she saw that he was looking through the open doorway into the main bar area … and right at the stage that hosted the Man of the Month contests.
“Perfect,” Easton said, without missing a beat. “Get Megan to include you in the flyer for this week’s contest. He’ll know exactly where you’ll be—and when.”
“And if I’m on that stage, then I’m not at Taylor’s side.”
“Exactly,” Easton said.
“Um, hello? Doesn’t this plan kind of suck for me?”
But Landon only grinned. “Trust me,” he said.
And since she did, she nodded and said the only thing she could. “Okay.”
Chapter Fourteen
Taylor sat cross-legged on the bed, her computer on her lap, wearing only plain cotton underwear and one of Landon’s APD T-shirts. It was two in the afternoon, and she hadn’t brushed her hair yet, much less thought about make-up.
Normally on a Wednesday, she’d be hurrying by now, getting dressed so that she could get to The Fix by five in order to set up with plenty of time before the contest. Tonight, though, she was playing the role of bait. Which was why Mina was once again stepping in as the stage manager—and Taylor was enjoying a lazy afternoon trolling the classified section of The Hollywood Reporter, checking out potential LA jobs.
For the last year or so, that had been her favorite mindless occupation—poking around and fantasizing about what sort of job she’d get right out of the gate in New York or LA after she graduated.
Lately, though—as in, post-Landon—she’d been less enthused by the New York and LA listings. Instead, the job postings from the Texas Film Commission seemed suddenly quite fascinating. There was even a job at the company where Mina had recently started working.
And, yeah, she was going to ask her friend for the scoop.
Or, maybe she wasn’t.
The simple fact was that her entire perspective on her future had changed. Before, it had just been her, alone in the world even though she was surrounded by friends. Leaving town would be easy.
Now, the thought made her stomach ache. She didn’t want to be just Taylor. She wanted to be Landon and Taylor.
Trouble was, she wasn’t sure if Landon wanted the same thing.
The attraction between them was real—no doubt about that. And she didn’t question that he cared about her. But how far did that go? Until they caught Beau? Until he went back to his day job?
Forever?
Please, let him want forever.
She needed to talk with him—she knew that. But when? Not today. Not when they were trying to catch a guy who probably intended to kill her once he caught and dragged her back to Arkansas. The last thing she wanted was to distract Landon with relationship stuff. He needed to be on-game. He was running the whole operation—all while strutting half-naked across a stage.
So when?
It was a question she didn’t find a quick answer for, but when he walked through the door moments later in the jeans he wore so damn well, his shirtless torso damp from a shower, her resolve ratcheted up a thousand-fold.
Tonight.
They’d catch Beau, she’d invite Landon to her apartment to celebrate, they’d have wine and make love, and as he held her close, she’d tell him that she loved him.
Assuming she didn’t die of nervousness before then.
“You okay?” He sat on the edge of the bed, his brows drawn in concern.
“Just scared,” she said, offering the truth and knowing he’d misunderstand.
He took her hand. “We’ll have ten plainclothes officers on site. And we don’t have to wait for him to make a move against you. Those warrants are cause. You see him, you signal.”
“He may not be there at all,” she said.
“It’s a possibility, but I’m betting he comes.”
She hoped so. They’d walked their legs off delivering three times the normal number of flyers around downtown. “Fingers crossed. And of course I’ll be looking. But your view from the stage will be better.”
He nodded. “True, but I’ve only seen photos. You’re our best hope since he’ll undoubtedly be wearing some sort of disguise. Hard for me to see through, but easier for you.”
She swallowed and nodded. He was right. Even after eight years, she’d recognize Beauregard Harkness even if he was disguised. His image was burned onto her soul.
“I asked Reece to move one of the tall cocktail tables near the stage,” Landon continued. “You can pretend to be so enamored of my awesomeness that you climb on top of your stool to get a better look.”
She grinned. “Like a groupie. Nice.”
He reached over and plucked at the shirt. “Looks like you already are.”
A wave of mortification swept over her. “I’m sorry. I wanted something oversized, and I just pulled open a drawer. I wasn’t thinking, and I—”
He silenced her with a kiss. “I like it.”
“Yeah? What exactly?”
He chuckled. “All of it. The way you look in my shirt. And the fact that y
ou’re comfortable enough to plow through my stuff.”
She bopped him with the small pillow supporting her knee. “There was no plowing. I was very neat.”
“I may not wash that shirt for months, you know. Once you take it off, it’s going to smell like you. The guys at work will wonder why I’m walking around with a constant hard-on.”
“Oh, no. No talk like that. We have to get ready. There’s no time for sex.”
“There’s always time for sex.”
She bent forward and kissed him, very slow and with a lot of tongue. “After you win the Mr. August crown.”
“Well, hell. Now I have to really try.”
“Landon? Your mom said you don’t date much since you and Vanessa divorced.”
Not surprisingly, his eyes widened at the sudden shift in topic. “My mother talks too much.”
“Your mother is amazing.” She wished she’d kept her mouth shut. Because she was edging very close to the very territory she’d just told herself she wanted to avoid tonight.
But the question of Vanessa had been bothering her, and dammit, it had just popped out.
He’d mentioned her almost in passing to Taylor one day when they’d taken a picnic basket into Austin’s Zilker Park. He’d been matter-of-fact, but she’d sensed real hurt beneath the words. And after talking with Gayle, she feared that he’d pretty much sworn off relationships.
And if he had, what did that mean for the two of them?
“Landon?” she pressed when he stayed quiet.
“Mom’s right,” he said. “Once bitten, twice shy, I guess. Plus, I’m in a hard profession. Tends to scare off anyone who wants stability. You know, sane people. And anyone who does get caught in the net ultimately tears themselves free and runs far and fast.”
She nodded, hating that she understood where he was coming from. And hating even more that his view of the world might be a view that didn’t have her on the horizon.
She blinked, aware of the tears filling her eyes. “It was like that with my mom,” she said, as much because it was true as to camouflage her tears. “You’re right. People don’t stick. Things get hard, and they fail you.” She drew a shaky breath. “But I really am sorry about your wife.”