B. G. McCarthy - A Thief At Heart

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B. G. McCarthy - A Thief At Heart Page 13

by A Thief At Heart (lit)


  “Hello, Riley?” asked Craig.

  She shook her muzzy head. “Sorry.”

  “I’ll give him a call. See if he wants to see a hockey game with me. We can discuss apartment hunting.”

  “That’d be great. Just don’t talk to him about me.”

  “Why not?” He was laughing at her again.

  “Because there’s nothing to talk about. We have nothing in common.”

  Craig’s eyes twinkled. “Yes, you do, Riley Jane. That’s the problem, isn’t it? You’re interested in the dude and that freaks you out.”

  “Whatever. Why don’t you apply this psycho-babble to your own demented life?”

  Craig laughed. “Maybe I should. Why don’t you come along to the game with us?”

  Riley sighed, reaching for her bag. “Don’t be a goof. I hate sports, with a passion. I should get going. I have a lot of things to get done before I leave.”

  “Are you coming out to Aggie’s to work on the porch?”

  “Oh, God. Is that this weekend?” she groaned.

  “Yep. Me and Ernie already knocked down the porch and cleaned up the debris. You handle a shovel pretty well for a chick. We need someone to help dig the foundation when you’re not helping Aggie get food on the table for us hungry men.”

  Riley smiled. “Okay, Neanderthal. I’ll be there.”

  ~ * ~

  Riley had seen Rob that week but had managed to avoid being alone with him. It was not an easy feat, but she imagined that maybe he was avoiding her, too. Perhaps even having second thoughts about giving her that kiss.

  That thought made her stomach twist into knots. Maybe she was inept at kissing or something. She’d gone stale in her old age.

  She kept telling herself not to think about it, but it was like poking a sore tooth with her tongue. Impossible to stop. It was a glorious kiss, probably the best one she’d had in years. The man was an expert. It was a wonder some woman hadn’t managed to get him to the altar.

  It had been a matter of days and she craved his taste like an addict.

  Splurging, Riley took a cab to Aggie’s house at seven on a sunny, warm Saturday morning. She was running late, had missed her breakfast and was dying for a cup of coffee. She looked like hell, wearing no makeup, an old jogging suit and a backwards cap, but she was working on a porch so she didn’t care.

  Aggie answered the door. The old lady seemed flushed and agitated about something. Her hand shook against the aluminum screen door. Riley considered asking if she was feeling okay, but knew that it would get her nowhere. Aggie would never admit that she was under the weather.

  “Hi, Aggie,” Riley said softly, giving the older woman a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Am I late?”

  “Believe it or not Craig was here at six.”

  Riley quipped, “Wow. He’s an eager beaver. He couldn’t have had his usual Friday night last night.”

  Aggie laughed. “That boy probably didn’t go to bed. It’s all going to catch up to him one day. Um... he brought a friend with him.”

  “A friend? You mean Ernie?”

  “Oh, no. This is a new friend. Craig say’s that Robert is a friend of yours as well.” Aggie peered up into Riley’s eyes. It was like she was expecting Riley to betray some sort of reaction.

  Riley’s heart sank in her chest like an anvil into a pit of doom. “I sort of know Robert.”

  “I was thinking that myself...” Aggie muttered absently.

  Before Riley could ask her to explain, they were in the kitchen. Aurora Taylor, known as Rory, Jenny Parker and Annika Lindstrom, all former foster children of Aggie’s, were hard at work in the kitchen. As Riley walked in the three women, all in their late twenties, were giggling like schoolgirls.

  Riley received warm hugs from the three women, all the cream of Aggie’s success stories.

  “So... what can you tell us about the hunk?” asked Jenny in her blunt way. She was pretty and athletic looking, with dark blonde hair and clear blue eyes, six feet tall in her stocking feet.

  “You’re not going to ask how I’m doing?” Riley teased.

  Rory guffawed, tossing back her gleaming swath of dark red hair. “He’s all we’ve talked about since arriving. It’s a big deal. Usually we just have Craig to look at and we all know what he’s like. Sexy as hell, but totally devoid of a heart.” Rory and Craig had always had a twisted relationship, had never seen eye to eye on much of anything. Rory was the only person in history Craig couldn’t charm.

  “Rob seems really sweet,” said the ethereal-looking Annika. Craig always said that Annika Lindstrom looked like she floated down off the top of a Christmas tree.

  Riley frowned at her. “He’s okay. What I know of him. But he’s looking for a woman with family money and social connections.”

  The three women stared at her for a moment--like she had three heads and carried a huge pointed stick to burst their bubbles. Finally Jenny laughed and said, “Guess that puts all of us mongrels out of the running. And how the hell do you know all that about him?”

  “He told me,” Riley said simply. “What can I do to help here?”

  Annika leaned closer, whispering in a soft Swedish accent. “Try to get Aggie to sit down and have some tea and a bagel. She doesn’t seem herself. When we got here she had the strangest look on her face, like she had seen a ghost or something.”

  “Sure. I can do that.”

  ~ * ~

  No way, thought Rob with a grunt, shoveling heavy cement into the wheelbarrow. He was being paranoid. Aggie didn’t know him. He looked too different. It was not probable that she’d know him after all these years, after all of the changes. She was an old lady and it had been a long, long time.

  Rob straightened and wiped his forehead with the back of his suede glove. He wasn’t used to this kind of physical labor. It felt damned good.

  He’d wanted to see Aggie again. He’d mulled it over last night after Craig had asked him if he felt like helping build Aggie’s porch because he was short one worker. All night Rob had tossed and turned, trying to decide. By the time Craig called in the morning he’d convinced himself that he wouldn’t be doing any harm. That it might be a good idea, satisfy the old longing to see her that had plagued him since he’d left.

  He knew he had made a huge mistake coming here today. Just another mistake in a long line of them. One look in Aggie’s eyes and he’d felt like he was sixteen years old with his snaggletooth smile, no muscles and that old mullet haircut. An open book.

  Rob had watched Craig and Eddie, both of whom had come after him by some years, hug the little woman like one would a mother; Rob had longed to do the same. Just once. Afterall, Aggie was Rob’s closest thing to a mother, too.

  Aggie had said nothing, but something about her silence was telling.

  He’d always felt guilty about the abrupt way he’d left--like a thief in the night.

  He’d told himself that he didn’t deserve to see her again after she’d put so much faith in him and he’d failed her. He’d failed her by joining up with people she’d tried to steer him clear of, activities that she’d warned him to leave behind him or risk destroying his life.

  Leaving Vancouver had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. It had been pounded into him as a kid that it was inevitable: he was born to be bad, a loser. He’d told himself back then that his reckoning might as well come sooner than later. What he’d done with Riley had been the final straw.

  After Rob had met Otis and had the opportunity to alter the course of his life by using some of his very specialized talents, he’d thought of coming back to see Aggie. He’d just never found the right time. Things were just too complicated, too up in the air. He’d told himself it was because he never knew when one job was going to end or when Otis needed him to go somewhere else.

  Having a normal life with friends, or people he thought of as family, had never seemed an option. Robin just threw himself into his new, exciting world--a world of make-believe, danger and intensity. He t
old himself that it was all he really needed. He’d begun to send Aggie money secretly, hoping she’d use it to give her a better life. He’d never wanted to know what she’d done with the money.

  Rob looked up.

  He was about to find out how Riley felt about his being here today. She was approaching him with her purposeful stride, her arms crossed over her lovely breasts. The wary body language was at war with the determined approach and made him want to tease her, but she’d likely pick up the shovel lying on the ground and whack him with it.

  “Hi, Jane. Or should I call you Riley Jane around here?” he asked.

  She was a little flushed. It was too early in the season to be from the sun. “I don’t use that name anywhere.”

  “Seems to be what everybody around here calls you.”

  Riley pressed her soft, peach-tinted lips together in a tight line. “Old habits die hard, I guess. It was nice of you to come and help Aggie, Robert.”

  “It’s no big deal. I like working outside. Beats the gym any day.” He mixed in another shovel of cement. She looked at his bare belly for a moment, then her eyes flitted away. It was obvious she liked what she saw and that made him want to strut around and crow.

  “There’s some iced tea or pop if you want some. Aggie’s really opposed to beer before four o’clock, unlike Mary.” She started to turn away.

  “Maybe you could bring me some of that tea and we could talk. I have to finish rinsing this cement mixer out.”

  She hesitated.

  “Afraid to talk to me?”

  “I could send one of the other girls. Rory would love to talk to you, I’m sure.”

  “The one with the red and black striped hair?”

  “She thinks you’re quite hot.”

  He smiled. “I’m flattered, but I think she likes Craig.”

  Riley raised a caramel colored brow. “What made you think that?”

  “He sprayed her with the hose. She was pissed but she glowed. Looked like sixth grade romance to me.”

  “She hates him. Believe me.”

  Rob shrugged as he picked up the hose. “I calls ‘em as I sees ‘em.” He began to rinse out the metal barrel of the miniature cement mixer.

  “She’s got a fantastic job,” Riley told him.

  “Cool.”

  “There’s no family money, though.”

  “Gee, too bad. She’s kind of sexy. Not as sexy as you are, but--”

  Riley’s lips twitched. He knew he’d gotten to her. “I’ll get you the tea,” she said smugly. “But I’m not going to talk to you.”

  She came back a few minutes later with two cans of tea and several pastries wrapped in a napkin. She told him that Annika, the Nordic blonde he’d met, had made them. “She’s the pastry chef at the Tudor Hotel. She’s getting really well known and wants to start her own business soon.”

  “How long did she live here with Aggie?”

  “About six months. Her older sister was raising her, but she died of cancer.”

  “Was that during the same time you were here?”

  She nodded. “I was on my way out the door. I’m older. Craig wasn’t supposed to tell you about my past.”

  Rob stared at her for a long moment. “Because you don’t want Mary to know about the way you were raised?”

  “I don’t want anyone to know. Having been in the system makes people think differently of you. They assume you’re not the same as they are. It’s just a given. I don’t want people wondering about me. Period. Or feeling sorry for me. Or thinking that I’m to be admired because I rose above my circumstances, pulled myself up by my little bootstraps. That condescension so sucks.”

  “From what I’ve seen this morning, you’re all pretty successful. People find that admirable.”

  “That’s all thanks to Aggie. And I don’t know how successful I am yet. I didn’t do as well as some of the others. I’m a late bloomer. I had to make a lot of stupid mistakes before I got on track.” She stared straight ahead, clutching the can in her hand.

  “You told me your mom had some problems once.”

  She nodded. “I did do that in a weak moment, didn’t I? She was really messed up. I was in and out of foster care. The only stability I had was when my gram was alive, then she died.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  She sat down on a hummock of grass, pulling at the tufts with her fingers. He sat down beside her.

  “Where did your sister end up?”

  “With her father. He didn’t want me... I wasn’t his kid and he hated my mom for what she put him through. I haven’t seen Grace since I was little.”

  He reached down and stilled her busy hand. She stiffened but she didn’t pull away.

  “Did you know your own father?”

  “No.”

  “As far as I can see, you did pretty well, Riley. You should be proud of yourself.”

  “Pride is sometimes my downfall.” She sighed deeply.

  Rob let go of her hand, reached for one of the pastries and took a big bite. He groaned in pleasure. “Wow. This cake thing is really wild.”

  Riley smiled. “Jenny coined a very pornographic name for those pastries she makes. You just proved it applicable.”

  “Want a bite?” he asked.

  “No.”

  Oh, yeah. She was so tough, denying herself pleasure. She just had to lick her lips, didn’t she? He stared at her moist mouth, felt his groin react.

  “How’s Todd doing?” He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the guy in days. It had been a lousy, slow week. Nothing was turning up and Otis was clamoring for information. So far it was all circumstantial, including what had been on the computer hard drive. He’d sent that material off days ago. There was nothing solid to link the Connors operation with Vasco. He was convinced they were barking up the wrong tree but Otis insisted he stay put.

  Riley seemed reluctant to talk about Todd at first. “I think he’s lying low. Brian, the chauffeur, told me he’d seen him a few times. He’s been taking all of his meals in the guest house.”

  Rob licked cream off his thumb. “Mary mentioned the other night that Todd had called her and told her he was planning to go somewhere for the long-weekend. He wouldn’t say where. You’re going somewhere, too, I hear?”

  “Not with him!”

  “I didn’t assume that.”

  “I’m off for a week or so, as it happens.”

  “You’re going to the mountains. Washington? Mary mentioned it to me.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Why?”

  She lifted her chin. “To be alone.”

  “You and Greta Garbo. What will you be doing?”

  “I’m writing the story of my sordid life,” was the slightly sarcastic reply.

  “You’re using the time to find your sister, aren’t you?”

  She stared at him. “Yes. I want to find her.”

  “I could help you. I know people with access to a lot of information. Insurance people have a lot of contacts.” He took a long pull from the can of tea.

  “I wouldn’t think of imposing on you that way.”

  “You wouldn’t be doing that, Riley. I’d be happy to help you.”

  She considered that for a moment. “I’ll think about it. I don’t want to stick my nose into things Grace wouldn’t want me to know.”

  “We’d keep our search simple.”

  Riley reached for the plate of pastry. “Like I said, I’ll consider the offer. Thanks.”

  “Where’s this cabin?”

  “Near Mount Baker.”

  Rob smiled. “You want company?”

  “Who? You?”

  “I like the mountains. Camping out. Living off the land. That sort of thing.” He’d think of some lie to tell Otis. He could swing a week in the mountains with Riley. He’d chase off bears, carry in the newly cut wood, build a roaring fire, chase Riley around the cabin...

  “No, thank you. And if you dare mention your coming along with me to Mary, I’ll
change my plans.”

  “I thought you’d say that. Are you still mad at me? I’ve given you quite a number of days to get over it.”

  “To get over what?”

  “That kiss. That kiss that rocked my world until that idiot Belinda walked in.” He stared at her mouth wanting to do it again.

  “I’m not mad at you for doing it, but--”

  “You liked it, didn’t you?”

  “I didn’t like it that much,” she sputtered. “It had been a while for me. It was... it was a novelty.”

  Rob actually guffawed at that. He caught her suppressing laughter of her own. “Gee, thanks.”

  She grinned. “You’re a really good kisser. And I’m man enough to admit that to you, Robert Murphy.”

  “You are all woman, Riley Jane Turner,” he breathed, looking at her beautiful mouth.

  “Listen... I don’t want to kiss you again.”

  He looked at her mouth. “Oh, yes... you do. It was great for both of us. We both felt it clean to our toes. You just admitted as much.”

  “I don’t get involved with men like you.”

  “That’s what I get for putting the rush on smart girls.”

  “I don’t do casual, Robert. I’m sorry.”

  “You don’t do casual? What does that mean, Riley?”

  “That’s what you’d want, isn’t it? Just sex? A good time while it lasts.” He didn’t know what to say to that, so he didn’t say anything. She went on in a rush. “I’d be looking for a serious relationship if I were looking. And I’m not looking at the moment. And there’s no chance in hell that I could meet your criteria in a bride--”

  “Oh, hell... Riley, I--”

  “Can we drop this, Rob?” she asked. “I just noticed that the others are staring at us and I wouldn’t want them to get the wrong idea.”

  He sighed. “Whatever you like.”

  “Listen... I don’t want to come off as a bitch. I like you, but I don’t think that I can be your temporary squeeze, Rob.”

 

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