by J. Kenner
“Well, sort of. Since you showed up before they clobbered me.” She cocked her head. “Why did you show up?”
“Oh. I was just heading to my sister’s place, and I saw you back here. Guess we go home the same way.”
She nodded, but still looked confused. “From the road, you saw me?”
“Absolutely.”
“Even though this lot curves around behind the restaurant?”
“Must’ve been the angle.”
“So you were really just driving by?”
“That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.”
“Uh-huh.” The corner of her lip twitched as she fought a smile. “Well, where’s Elmer?”
Good question. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a good answer. “Still in my car, of course.”
“In your car? In this heat?”
“It’s a convertible.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “Aren’t you afraid he’s going to run away?”
“He’s trained, remember?”
“Uh-huh.” She didn’t look convinced. “So where is it?”
“Where’s what?”
“Are we playing twenty questions? Your car. Where’s your car?”
“Right. Of course. My car.” One heck of a long way away. He probably should have driven it. “Uh, it’s around here somewhere.”
“Okay. Well, how did you get here?”
“Here? American Airlines has plenty of regular flights from New York. I just caught one and voila!” A lie, of course. He’d come to L.A. under his own power. But since she wasn’t talking about that—and he damn well knew it—he didn’t regret the lie too much.
Her eyebrows lifted above the rims of her sunglasses, her foot tapping a rhythm in time with the whoosh, whoosh of the passing traffic. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”
“Oh.” He added the proper note of enthusiasm to his voice. “Oh! You mean here. In this parking lot. With you.”
“Yup.”
So much for stalling. Clearly he hadn’t thought this out well enough beforehand. Glancing around, he noticed the grocery store across the street. “I wanted . . . uh . . . lettuce. So I left after you. And then I pulled into the store and saw you. So I came over here to help.”
“A salad man, huh?”
He hated salad. “Absolutely.”
“Mmm-hmm.” She shielded her eyes and looked toward the Gelson’s supermarket. “Should we go get Elmer?”
“Oh, no. He likes the peace and quiet. Thrives on it, really.”
“Uh-huh.”
Enough of this. He took the tire iron from her hand. “Why don’t you let me change that flat for you?”
“Sure.” This time when she smiled, it seemed slightly shy, not confused. “That would be nice.”
Much better. Something physical he could do and do well. And it was a good thing, too; he obviously didn’t make the best liar on the planet. The only tricky part would be remembering that he had to change this tire like a mortal guy: no slipping off the lug nuts with his thumb and forefinger, no using super speed to have the new tire on in the blink of an eye. But even doing it the annoying, slow way, he still had her spare tire on and ready to go in well under five minutes. Finished, he looked up. “All done.”
“Bravo!” She clapped, looking completely enamored, and Hale decided there was something to all that cliched talk about knights on white horses and damsels in distress. “Listen—” he said.
“Could I—” she began at the same time.
They both laughed, and then he said, “Go ahead.”
Again, a shy grin flitted across her face. “I just thought that since you rescued me, the least I could do was buy you a cup of coffee. There’s a coffee shop right across the street next to the grocery store.” She glanced at her watch. “I can’t stay for too long, but maybe a quick one?” Immediately, her cheeks turned pink, and he realized she must be remembering her date with Leon.
All the more reason to spend some quality time with her. “That would be great. But I’m buying.”
“Why? Because you’re a guy?”
Holy Hera, she was priceless. “No. Because I want to.” Ten minutes later they were tucked into a corner booth at Jumbo Java, a slice of truly decadent chocolate cake on the table between them.
She nabbed a tiny bit of the cake with her fork. “So, tell me about being a cover model. Is it a fabulous life?”
“Sometimes.” He couldn’t tell her the full story of what he did, of course, but it was nice to be able to share a little piece of his life. “I enjoy it. The shoots, seeing myself on book covers. The fans.”
After she swallowed, she grabbed another forkful of cake. “Must be very glamorous.”
“Sometimes. Mostly it’s rush, rush to get to a shoot, a few hours under the hot lights in costume, and a lot of waiting. But the personal appearances are great. I love meeting the fans.”
“Sounds wonderful,” she said, and he stifled a grin as she forked up a huge bite of cake dripping with icing.
Behind her, a guy who looked like a reject from a rock band slid into a booth, his eyes scouring Tracy before he turned the other direction. Hale scowled, something about the green-eyed man flickering in his memory.
“Hale?”
He looked up, shaking off his random thoughts. “Sorry, I got distracted. It is wonderful, but it can be exhausting.”
“I understand exhausting,” she agreed. “Mel’s just getting Paws off the ground, so we’re both working a lot of hours.” Tracy took another bite, then smiled. “But I love it. I’ve always loved working with animals. In fact, about the only job I’d like better would be training animals at Sea World.”
The image of Tracy in a skintight wetsuit was enough to bring a smile to his face. “Really?”
“The ocean,” she said. “I love the ocean. The beach, the surf. I always have. It’s where I go to wind down.” She shrugged.
“Actually, it’s just as well I don’t work with marine life. If I lived and breathed the ocean, it would probably lose a lot of its mystique.”
Hale nodded, understanding what she meant. He loved the ocean, too, but he’d never bought a beach house. Somehow, escaping to the shore was more enticing than simply being able to walk out his back door into the sand.
“I know exactly what you mean,” he said.
“You do?” she asked, sounding pleased. When he nodded, her smile broadened. “Guess that’s one more thing we have in common,” she said.
“One more?”
“Yeah,” she said, the corner of her mouth twitching. “I really love salads, too.”
Hale laughed, enjoying this outing with Tracy more than he should be for a simple seduction.
“Tracy?” A male voice said, and Hale fought a wave of irritation at being interrupted. “Tracy, I’m so glad to see you again.”
A blond guy, about six feet tall with football-player shoulders, joined them at the table, a steaming to-go cup in his hand.
“Hi, Walter.”
While Walter looked ecstatic, Tracy appeared less than thrilled. “What’s up?” Her voice was polite enough, but underneath, Hale thought he detected a note of irritation. Under the circumstances, he was pretty annoyed himself. At the moment, he had absolutely no interest in sharing Tracy with anybody.
“Listen,” Walter said. “I’m sorry about yesterday. Of course I recognized you. I’d just . . . uh . . . drunk too much coffee. Moving back to town and all, I’ve been living on Diet Coke and coffee. Caffeine high, you know. And I was distracted. That girl I was with . . . uh, she wasn’t a girlfriend. No. She was, uh, a rep. For an air-conditioning company. My new apartment is so hot—”
“Uh, Walter? I’m kind of in the middle of something here.” She nodded toward Hale.
“Oh. Right.” The guy took a few steps backward. “Well, I’ll just get going, then.” He fished in his coat pocket. “But call me, okay? Here’s my card.” He plunked a business card down on the table, then slinked out of the coffee shop. Hale couldn’t rememb
er the last time he was so glad to see someone go.
“Friend of yours?”
“Sorry.” Her cheeks flushed pink. “Ex-boyfriend. I bumped into him yesterday and he didn’t even recognize me.” She shrugged, then grabbed some more cake with her fork. “Weird. Especially since yesterday I was wishing that he had recognized me—and wishing that he’d fawn all over me because his life had become such a shambles since he left me.”
“He left you?”
Tracy nodded.
“I find that hard to believe.” What Hale didn’t find hard to believe was Walter’s little love-Tracy-fest just now. She was wearing the belt, after all. And that was some pretty potent magic.
“Anyway, I don’t want to talk about him.” She smiled, an expression meant just for him. “What were we talking about?”
“Jobs. Tell me about your job.”
“I love it, but it’s definitely not glamorous. Not like yours.”
“Don’t knock it. Every job has its downside.” In Hale’s case, those personal appearances that he loved had made his face recognizable. Hale couldn’t do the anonymous superhero routine, and his Council assignments had been chosen accordingly. At first, he’d resented his mortal job. Now, however, he’d meshed the two lives. And, frankly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Yeah.” Tracy’s mouth twitched, and he knew she was fighting laughter. “The downside of my job’s tiger poop. Or maybe that’s an upside.” She lost her battle and erupted into a fit of laughter. “Sorry,” she said, after a few heaving breaths. “I just had the most bizarre day yesterday. Walter wasn’t even half of it.”
“Want to fill me in?”
She shook her head. “Nope.” The laughter in her eyes changed to something else. Something softer. “But maybe another time. I think you’d be fun to swap stories with.”
He took her hand, his gaze meeting hers. “Sweetheart, I promise you. You won’t find many men with better stories than me.” That, of course, was the understatement of the year.
“Really?” One of her eyebrows went up, matching the note of interest in her voice. “So don’t keep me in suspense. Share.”
After a second, he nodded. What the heck? She wouldn’t believe him anyway. “You already know about my day job—”
“You mean there’s another?”
“Absolutely. I may seem like just a mild-mannered cover model, but by night I’m Super Hale, protector of the weak. Defender of the innocent. Leaper of tall buildings.”
Her mouth twitched. “I thought you were eccentric when you talked to your ferret. I guess I should learn to trust those first impressions, huh?”
“Always trust first impressions,” he told her. Not bad advice. Except that his first impression of Tracy had been more than he wanted to think about.
“So, you’re just passing through? Or are you here to rescue some diplomat or something?”
“Nothing as small as that, this time. I’m here to save the world.”
“I guess I should feel honored you spent some time rescuing little old me.”
“Not at all. You’re the key to everything.”
“Oh?” Her eyebrow rose again. “I’m the key to saving the world? Careful. You’ll give me a big head.”
“A pretty one, though.”
“Mmm-hmmm.” She cocked her head. “Okay. I’ll bite. How am I the key to saving the world?”
“Protecting you protects the world.” As would getting that belt off her waist. But that part he couldn’t mention without pushing his luck. Reaching across the table, he took her hand, working to make his voice teasing. “Protect you from harm, and the world just transforms into a better place.”
“I didn’t know I ranked so high in the universal hierarchy.”
“Sweetheart, don’t ever underestimate yourself.”
The shy grin was back. “So I’ve got a date with a superhero, huh?”
“Lucky you.”
She leaned over the table toward him, her eyes dancing. “Anything I should know about the care and feeding of superheroes?”
“Be sweet to us.” He traced his fingertips over the palm of her hand. “And never say no. It’s not good karma.”
A blush crept up her neck, turning her ears a delightful shade of pink. “Thanks for the tip. I’ll keep that in mind.” Their eyes met and held, locked together by a force he’d never quite experienced before. For a few minutes, they just held hands, and then she blinked, her gaze drifting to the tabletop as she pulled her fingers from his. The moment vanished, but he knew in his gut they’d taken a big first step.
“Wow,” she said, nodding toward the empty plate. “We managed to finish it all off.”
Hale just nodded and agreed. The woman was perfectly adorable. So why point out that he hadn’t even taken one single bite?
13
If she weren’t driving, Tracy would have hugged herself, she was so happy. As it was, she considered pulling off to the side of the road so she could do that very thing.
Not that hugging herself was what she truly wanted. No, she wanted Hale to hug her. To hold her close like he had after those thugs had harassed her. As it was, he’d kissed her cheek after walking her back to her car. She might never wash that particular spot again.
That impromptu date she’d just left had been absolutely fabulous. He might be a famous cover model, but he was also down to earth, sexy as all get-out, and one hell of a knight in shining armor. Plus, he made her laugh.
In other words, he was perfect.
And those little quirks like talking to his ferret, they only seemed more endearing now.
Smiling, she remembered his concocted story about being a superhero. The man was a goofball—and, she had to say, she liked that in a guy.
Besides, in her book, he was a superhero. He’d sure as heck rescued her.
Shivering, she recalled the nasty gleam in those creeps’ eyes as they’d stared at her. Odd, because her purse had been in the car. What was it they’d wanted? The only thing she’d been holding was the tire iron, and unless they’d been fired from the Auto Club and were holding a grudge, she doubted that was what they were after.
Which left only one thing. Her.
Ick. Major, big-time ick.
Thank goodness Hale had showed up when he did. Maybe she’d acted like a frail little flower of a woman, but that didn’t change the fact that when he’d held her tight in the circle of his arms, she’d felt safer and more wonderful than she’d ever felt before.
And what a nice feeling.
All the nicer since he’d seemed content to hold her forever. And when they’d gone to the coffee bar, he hadn’t wanted to leave. Finally, she’d had to pull the plug so she’d have time to get ready for her date with Leon.
Sighing, she squirmed in her seat, delighted by the truth that had been so very apparent. He liked her. Hale really and truly liked her! She was certain of it, and the feeling warmed her to her toes.
Cover model Hale and TV heartthrob Leon Palmer. Both wanting her. Amazing. All it had taken was a little shot of confidence, and suddenly she had famous dates for the whole weekend. Mentally, she thanked her grandmother.
Digging her cell phone out of her purse, she turned into the mall. Confident, she might be. An educated consumer, she wasn’t. And since she’d spent her date-prep time with Hale, she had about three seconds to blow in, get enough makeup to try to turn herself into a glamour queen, and get out again.
“I need help,” she said the second Mel answered the phone.
“Undoubtedly. But I’m not a licensed psychotherapist.”
“Ha-ha. That’s not what I need help with.”
“Trust me,” Mel quipped. “It is.”
Tracy took the phone away from her ear just long enough to scowl at it. “Not helpful. I’m at the mall now, and I’ve got about fifteen minutes to get inside, get to the cosmetics counter, and figure out what I’m supposed to be buying.”
“You’re braving a department store cosmet
ics counter? By yourself? You do need help.”
Tracy rolled her eyes as she turned into a parking place and killed her car’s engine. “I told you. So, are you going to help, or are you just going to tease me?”
“Just tease, I’m afraid. I’m still in the meeting. We’re on a break, I’ve got about five minutes.”
Tracy slumped. “Damn. I really need advice.”
“That’s what they’ve got salesgirls for. What store are you near?”
Tracy told her.
“Lower level, near the shoes,” Mel—a walking encyclopedia of malls—said.
“Gotcha.” Tracy entered near the men’s clothing, made a right turn at evening wear, and ran smack-dab into shoes. Like Mel had promised, just a few yards ahead glistened rows and rows of gleaming glass cubicles filled with beauty products that were sure to transform even the ugliest duckling into a swan. At least that’s what Tracy hoped.
“Okay. I’m in,” Tracy said, feeling a little like an undercover operative.
“What are your choices?”
“Clinique. Prescriptives. Estee Lauder. And about a billion more.” She proceeded to rattle off the brands that were camped out at the various stations. “We could pretty much make over the world from this one store.”
“Start with Clinique and work your way down.”
Once again, Tracy glanced at the phone, her eyebrows raised with disbelief.
“Trace?” Mel’s voice filtered through. “Where’d you go?”
“Are you insane?” Tracy asked, pulling the phone back to her ear. “I’ve got less than a half hour.”
“Well, then,” Mel said, the hint of a laugh in her voice. “I guess you’d better get cracking.”
“Henchmen!” Zoe knew her voice was squeaking, but she couldn’t help it. “Hieronymous sent Henchmen? To the San Fernando Valley?”
“ ’Fraid so.” Hale’s voice came through crystal clear on the Council-issued cell phone. “And they’ve already located Tracy.”
“Well, heck,” she said, fighting a shiver.
A low laugh from the other end of the phone. “My sentiments were a little more strongly worded, but essentially the same,” Hale said.