The Big Bad Wolf Tells All

by Donna Kauffman

  “I admire that you’re still handling the case in a manner that will best protect my grandniece. As for the rest, well, I’ve never presumed to interfere in her love life and I won’t start now.”

  It wasn’t exactly a blessing, but it beat the hell out of whatever else he might have had coming. Riley nodded, sincerely grateful. “You have my word that I’ll do my best to see her safe.” He looked to Tanzy. “Speaking of which, I believe we talked about opening the front door.”

  “I could see her through the doorpanes.”

  Riley merely ground his teeth, surprised he had any left. “Still, until this is over, I’d appreciate it if you’d do things as I ask.”

  Tanzy’s hands went right to her hips, knee cocked, obviously ready to let fly with all the reasons why she could take perfectly good care of her own self. So it was a surprise when she only snapped her mouth shut again, then sighed, and finally nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

  Riley wasn’t sure who was more shocked, him or Millicent.

  “Well then,” Millicent said, her quite clear-eyed gaze shifting from Tanzy to Riley, her tone shifting to something more . . . considering.

  Just what she was considering, Riley wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

  “Why don’t you go make yourself presentable and we’ll make some tea,” Millicent said, quite pleasantly. Almost too pleasantly.

  “That sounds great, Aunt Millicent,” Tanzy said, “but Riley really needs to ice his knee. He—”

  Riley did manage to cut her off with a glare before she blurted out any additional details. Minute or otherwise. He’d been mortified quite enough for one afternoon, thanks. “Old injury,” he cut in. “Rain makes it flare up.” He glanced through the front bay window and spied Millicent’s driver resting his hip against her car as he skimmed the afternoon paper. Riley relaxed a little then. It was doubtful anyone would approach the house with a block-long limo idling by the curb. And Wainwright might have had a career in the NFL himself had he been so inclined, he had the size for it.

  “I’ll let you two talk and be back down in a while if that’s okay,” he said, edging to the door, careful of his knee . . . and his towel.

  “Can you get upstairs all right?” Tanzy asked. “If you can manage that, I’ll bring up the ice while the tea is brewing.”

  Riley nodded, eternally grateful. “That would be great. You don’t have to save me a cup. I’ll make some coffee later.”

  Millicent raised her hand as he limped to the door. “Before you go, have there been any new developments in the case?”

  It took considerable will not to look at the table and the stack of papers presently beneath the art book. “We’ll hopefully have something more to tell you soon,” he said, deciding it was close enough to the truth. Now he just had to hope like hell they left the coffee table untouched during teatime.

  He was levering himself up the first riser when he heard Millicent make a tsking noise. Thinking she was going to lecture Tanzy privately about their relationship, he turned back, ready to defend her.

  Just in time to hear Millicent say, “Such a pity about his knee. If I’d had a gun, I think I’d have shot Hendrick myself for not using double coverage in his last game. I don’t know why Monk allowed Schilling to hire such an ineffectual ass as special teams coach anyway.” She sighed. “He really should have listened to us when we explained that Farber was the better man for the job.” Another tsk. “Men. Invite you to the owner’s box, but don’t want to listen to a thing you have to say.”

  Riley blinked. He might have gaped. He must have made some noise as well, because Millicent looked over and saw him standing in the open doorway.

  “What, you don’t think I hire a person strictly based on a recommendation, do you? Besides, Howard Waterston can be a real nitwit. Especially when it comes to keeping his pants zipped. But then, I suppose you know all about that.”

  Riley’s face reddened until he realized she was referring to his knowledge of Waterston, not him personally. “Yes, ma’am.” What else was there to say?

  “Howard’s recommendation brought your current line of work to my attention, but that wasn’t the sole reason for your employment. You had a hell of a college career. A shame what happened with Sacramento.”

  Completely nonplussed, Riley said, “You saw me play college ball?”

  She nodded sharply. “I thought you might have been the start of something good for the Pioneers.”

  “I don’t know about that, but thank you for the vote of confidence. I didn’t know you were a fan of the game.”

  Tanzy snorted. “Are you kidding? My great-aunt is the Yogi Berra of her peer group.”

  “Yogi played baseball,” Millicent and Riley said simultaneously.

  “Whatever,” Tanzy said with an unconcerned shrug. “I’m a total cliché. I just look at the uniforms.”

  Riley’s gaze narrowed. “So, you’re telling me you don’t wear that old jersey because you’re a diehard Niners fan?”

  Tanzy squared her shoulders. “I’m a fan of tight pants and thigh pads. I’m not too particular which team wears them.” She fingered her shirt. “I borrowed this from Sue’s brother when I stayed with her one summer, between sophomore and junior year in college. I never got around to giving it back.” She hugged her waist. “It’s comfy.”

  “So, let me get this straight,” he said, quite seriously, “you don’t watch the game at all.”

  Millicent sighed. “She wouldn’t know a field goal from a three-point jumper.”

  Riley swiveled back to Millicent, his expression lighting up even as Tanzy groaned. “You watch a little roundball, too?”

  Millicent sniffed, cleaned her monocle with a lace hanky she had tucked in the sleeve of her beautifully tailored floral dress. “I wish I could say the Lakers were overrated, but the fact is, as long as Mr. Bryant and Mr. O’Neal continue to play on the same team, I’m afraid the rest of the teams might as well take the season off. Play golf.” She sniffed. “Never did develop a liking for that particular sport. Too tedious.”

  Riley hooted. “My father gets Lakers tickets occasionally. From, uh, a friend of his.” Riley didn’t elaborate on who the friend was, or that she’d been a client once. A very thankful client. And not for Finn’s professional skills.

  Another snort. “Are you kidding? She’s got season tickets, fifty-yard line.”

  She didn’t even pause when Riley and Millicent both shook their heads pityingly and said, “Center court.”

  “Right behind Jack Nicholson,” Tanzy finished, then smiled smugly. “I know that much.”

  “If our schedules permit, perhaps we can take in a game someday,” Millicent offered graciously. But there was a definite twinkle in her eye. “However, I must have your solemn vow that we leave this one at home.” She nodded toward Tanzy, who put her hands up, palms out.

  “Trust me, you won’t hurt my feelings.”

  “I tried, honestly I did,” Millicent said with a resigned sigh. “But she’s beyond all hope.”

  Riley just grinned. He’d get her to a game. Or three. She was too competitive not to enjoy sports. He’d start her with hoops first. It was faster-paced. But they’d get to football. Eventually.

  “Thank you,” he told Millicent, almost reverent with sincerity. “I’d very much enjoy it.” And he realized he would, as much for the company as the courtside seats.

  He finally managed to leave the room, only to have Tanzy lean back into the hall and whisper, “And don’t think I didn’t see that gleam in your eye back there. Bigger men than you have tried to force me to understand sports, Mr. Rocket Power. All failed. Miserably.”

  Riley winced as he climbed the first few steps, but he was grinning, all the same. He looked back down to Tanzy. “Bigger, maybe. But not better.”

  Riley watched her struggle valiantly not to laugh. Her lips quirked anyway. “We’ll see, ball boy. We’ll see.”

  How is it we grow up and think we know everything about our loved one
s, and then are shocked to discover they have secrets? Just like the rest of us. I used to think life would be easier if families came complete with how-to manuals. But I suppose that would spoil the fun. Besides, no way would I want every detail in mine! I guess we learn things when we’re meant to, when we can put them to use. Or not.

  Chapter 19

  Millicent stepped out into the foyer as Tanzy watched Riley limp up the stairs.

  Millicent lifted her monocle and followed Tanzy’s gaze. “He does fill out a towel quite nicely, doesn’t he, dear?”

  When Tanzy’s eyebrows rose, Millicent merely sniffed. “The casing might be a bit worn out, but the engine still hums along just fine.”

  Tanzy decided this fell into the TMI category. Too Much Information. Certainly it produced a visual she could have done without. “Let me run some ice up to him and I’ll fix us some tea. You can just make yourself comfortable in the—”

  “Nonsense,” Millicent interrupted. “I can certainly get a pot of tea going while you take care of your man.”

  Tanzy paused. “He’s not my man.”

  Millicent smiled indulgently. “Whatever you say, dear.”

  Tanzy planted her hands on her hips. “I would think you of all people would find being patronizing most unbecoming behavior.”

  “So is fooling yourself and hiding behind old truths.”

  Tanzy’s hands fell to her sides at the same time her mouth dropped open. “Old truths?”

  Millicent gently took her arm and turned her toward the kitchen. “We can discuss this after you’ve tended to—”

  “Riley,” Tanzy interjected stubbornly.

  “Yes, dear.”

  She scowled but didn’t bother continuing the conversation. She took the stairs two at a time with the ice, expecting Riley to be sleeping with his leg propped up. Instead she found him on the second floor, in her office. At her computer. She cleared her throat from the doorway.

  He didn’t jump, nor did he turn around. “Hope you don’t mind. I needed to check on something.”

  She wanted to be at least a little miffed at the invasion of her most personal space. But he looked so damn good with his damp hair curling at his neck and her melon-colored bath towel barely hanging on around his waist, she found it hard to be surly. Horny, now that she could manage. With hardly any effort, as it turned out. She wondered absently how long that would last. His ability to run her pulse straight up by doing nothing more than, well, breathing.

  “You’ve been snooping around in my computer for weeks now, why should I mind?” She moved into the room, shifting the bag of ice as the chill began to sting her palm. “At least now you can take the direct route. I brought your ice.”

  “Thanks.”

  The fact that he hadn’t so much as glanced in her direction did manage to miff her, however. Men might have to compete for her attention when it came to her and her computer, but she’d be damned if she’d have to compete with it. She smiled as she walked up behind him, bent down, and pressed a warm kiss at the base of his neck.

  “Mmmm,” he murmured. “Nice.”

  “Uh-huh.” Then she planted the ice pack where her lips had just been, making him yelp and jump.

  “What was that for?” he said, grabbing the ice bag.

  She smiled sweetly. “You’re looking at me now, so it worked, didn’t it?”

  He gave her a calm, steady look. “Must you always be the center of attention?”

  She rolled his chair out and spun him slowly so he faced her, then very gently placed the ice on his knee. “Just with you.”

  He hissed at the contact, but clamped his hand on hers to keep her from taking it away again. “It takes a moment or two to get used to it.”

  She slid her hand free, all desire to tease him gone. “Is it really bad? You should have said something. We really didn’t need to—”

  He looked up at her. “Yes, we needed to. And we just might need to again. Later.”

  Now she found a smile. “I think we can be inventive enough to spare the knee, but not . . . well, anything else. Don’t you?”

  His lips quirked and he reached out and snagged her, pulling her across his lap before she could dodge him.

  “Your knee!”

  “Is numb. Now hush.” He made sure she did by planting his mouth on hers. He was grinning when he lifted his head.

  “What?” she asked warily.

  “I think I like having you fuss over me.”

  “I don’t fuss.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “You do. And you’re damn cute at it, too.”

  She merely rolled her eyes. But at the same time felt inordinately pleased by the compliment. Not that she was about to let him know.

  He stroked her face, her hair, the teasing light leaving his eyes. “We need to talk. When Millicent is gone.”

  She frowned. “Has something happened? Did Ernie email the list from the charity ball?”

  “Yeah, but I haven’t cross-checked it yet.”

  She felt her skin go clammy. “He sent another email, didn’t he?” She couldn’t help it, she shuddered.

  He tugged her closer, smoothed his hands down her arms. “Not exactly. But there has been contact.”

  “What? How?”

  He sighed. “I’m working on it. You go visit with your aunt. But if the phone rings, or anyone comes to the door, I don’t care who it is, just let me handle it. Promise me.” She must have looked as spooked as she felt, because he leaned closer and kissed her. This time it was gentle and reassuring. And still made her pulse race. “You really have to start taking this more seriously, okay?”

  “I am,” she insisted, but at his look, she sighed and said, “Okay. I promise. And I’m sorry. About opening the door, about worrying you. It’s just—” She paused, looked down at where his hand was stroking along her arm, and covered his hand with hers. “It’s going to take some getting used to. Having someone else worrying about me.” She smiled a little. “Fussing over me.”

  He touched her chin so she looked at him. “Get used to it. And I promise to do the same. Deal?”

  She smiled, ridiculously pleased at his proprietary tone. She could lie and say it was just because there was a threat against her, someone stalking her, and it felt good to have a big, strong body by her side.

  But it was more than that. And for the first time she realized she was afraid. Not of SoulM8, but of what would happen once there was no longer a threat. Would Riley stick around then, or would they drift apart when he inevitably moved on to another job? One that might consume as much of his time as this one had. She wished there was a guarantee, some absolute thing she could do to ensure that this wouldn’t end until she was ready for it to end.

  Which made her sound rather cold and calculating, didn’t it? Had she always been so controlling? She didn’t think so. Mostly because she was never with anyone long enough to worry about it.

  Riley blew next to her ear, startling her from her thoughts.

  “I was just blowing the smoke away,” he explained, then tapped her forehead. “From all those gears grinding up there.” His smile faded. “I shouldn’t have said anything until Millicent was gone. Please, go have some tea, enjoy her company. I take it she doesn’t usually stop by.”

  It was cowardly, but Tanzy took the out anyway. Besides, she wasn’t ready yet to lay her heart at his feet and risk having it trampled on. “No, no she doesn’t.”

  “Christmas is around the corner, maybe she wants to make plans.”

  “I didn’t even think she’d be here for Christmas, remember? Besides, we spend Thanksgiving together. That’s our holiday. She spends Christmas making the rounds. Friends, charities, a few parties. I usually do the same. Maybe I’ll ask her if I can help out this year, test the waters, so to speak.” She looked at him. “What about you? Will you and your dad get together? Do you have other family?”

  He shook his head. “It’s just the two of us. Some years Finn and I get together, most years
he’s out and about.”

  Tanzy noted that it wasn’t the first time Riley was less than specific where his father was involved. She supposed that was one other thing they shared. Less than stellar relationships with their parents. She couldn’t even call hers a relationship. At least he had that.

  She realized he was looking at her, his expression a bit . . . she couldn’t exactly say. “What?”

  “I want to ask you something.”

  “So, go ahead and ask.”

  “It’s not that simple.” He heaved a sigh when she merely gave him a look. “Okay. Let me get the whole thing out before you answer, all right?”

  Intrigued and a little bit nervous, though she couldn’t say exactly why, she nodded. “Promise.”

  Now he gave her the look. “Just do your best.”

  She jabbed him with her elbow, but they were both smiling. “Get on with it, already.”

  “Seeing as we don’t have any plans for the holiday, barring whatever Millicent might have up her floral-print, lace-hankied sleeve—”

  Tanzy snickered at the description, then shut her mouth tight when he sighed. “I can’t help it, you make me laugh,” she said, or muffled, through closed lips.

  “The truly scary thing is, I think I understood that,” Riley said wryly. He shifted her on his lap and pulled her closer. “Okay, here it is: I’d like to spend Christmas with you. Not because of the threat out there, though I’ll admit I’ll feel better if I know where you are, that someone is keeping a close eye on you. Someone trained to keep a close eye.”

  “I don’t know, Millicent is pretty formidable with nothing more than a monocle and cane.”

  Riley looked at her.

  “It wasn’t an answer,” Tanzy said in her defense, fighting back the laughter. “It was a defense of my poor great-aunt’s hand-to-hand combat skills.”

  Riley fought to keep a straight face, but lost the battle.