Angel in Disguise

by Patt Marr

  The promises he’d made to Lisa hadn’t been enough to hold her. Without meaning to love her less than she needed, he’d failed. A man couldn’t fail if he didn’t try.

  Chicken. That’s what he was. A scaredy-cat chicken.

  Afraid to go after what he wanted, playing it safe, letting the real world pass him by. But he’d never been a risk taker. At restaurants, he ordered steak and potatoes, nothing exotic. He didn’t jump out of airplanes or dive into unknown waters. What he couldn’t see, he didn’t trust.

  There it was: trust.

  A couple of weeks ago, when Sunny talked about trusting God, he’d thought she was a little naive. Now he knew she’d been right on the money. How long had she been a Christian? Maybe with time, a person got better at trusting, though he couldn’t see himself bungee jumping or anything stupid, no matter how close to God he became.

  “Pete?”

  The bloodhound? Not again. Her voice came from the beach. Ignore it. Maybe she’d go away.

  “Pete?” She’d reached the steps to the deck.

  Go away? In his dreams.

  “What are you doing here, Pete?”

  He groaned and peeled himself up off the lounger, marching toward the house. Meggy padded barefoot behind him.

  “Answer me!” she demanded. “What are you doing here?”

  Whirling, he jabbed a finger at her. “How did you get here?”

  “I followed you.”

  “You followed me? I didn’t see your car.” He had checked his rearview mirror for it, several times.

  She grinned. “That’s because I borrowed a van. Gotcha!”

  He ought to be furious with her, and he was. Unfortunately he couldn’t stay mad nearly long enough when she was this happy with herself. Yanking a lock of her hair, he said, “Sisters!”

  “Brothers!” she retorted with a kiss on his cheek.

  He wiped the kiss off, scowling, hoping she’d back off.

  But she beamed. “Are you house-sitting this place?”

  Since it looked like his hideaway days were over, he might as well come clean. “The house is mine. It was the last one Dad and I built before he died.”

  Meggy looked shocked. “You bought a house in Malibu Colony? What bank did you rob?”

  “You knew there was a settlement from the accident.”

  “I didn’t know you got this kind of money! You didn’t act like it, and you live like a pauper. You let me rent you a truck when you could afford a place like this? Shame on you, Pete!”

  “Renting the truck was not my idea.”

  For once she had no comeback. She sighed in contentment looking around the deck with its containers of flowers planted by good neighbor Bev. “This place is great.”

  Pete grinned, the happy pride of ownership making him glad to have someone to share his place with, even if it was his nosy sister. “Want a tour?”

  “Sure, especially if it comes with a cold drink.”

  Pete stood aside, letting her precede him into the house.

  “Good grief! It’s a gym!”

  It was, almost. Instead of filling the living room with furniture, he had splurged on exercise equipment to help his recovery. He hated those gyms where single women hung out, and he sure didn’t fit in where guys were in love with the mirrors.

  “Diet cola okay?”

  “Sure.” She followed him into the kitchen. “I see now why you didn’t have a cooler,” she said, laughing at herself.

  He opened the refrigerator door and she peered over his shoulder. Only a miracle would save him from another lecture.

  “Uh, Pete…”

  No miracle today.

  “I know you’ve been in rehab, so I don’t expect leftovers, but where’s the food? Mustard, pickles, the standard stuff?”

  When he didn’t answer, she turned to the cupboards, finding them empty, slamming each shut a little harder than the last.

  He crossed his arms, not liking this one bit, but knowing there was no stopping tornadoes, hurricanes or snoopy sisters.

  “What’s going on? There’s not one dish, not even a broom.”

  “The cleaning lady brings her own supplies.”

  “Okay, but where’s the dishes? The dish soap? What about all your vitamins? And your peanut butter? You can’t make it without your peanut butter. It’s like nobody lives here.”

  “Nobody does.” He handed her a can of cola and carried one of his own into the living room.

  “You don’t live here?” She followed him like a shadow. “I thought you said you bought the place. I don’t understand.”

  “What’s to understand? I still live in Sylvan City. I come here to go to the beach and work out.”

  Her jaw dropped. Her blue eyes snapped. “You stay cooped up in that little house when you could be living here?”

  “Sylvan City’s good enough for me.” When had Meggy turned into a snob?

  “Good enough! What’s that got to do with anything? A roof over your head is ‘good enough’ as long as it’s paid for by honest work. We weren’t raised to judge people by things. The only one who ever gave a rip about ‘good enough’ was…”

  She stopped and stared at him, her eyes comprehending.

  “Oh, Petey, if you’re living at the old house to prove it should have been ‘good enough’ for Lisa, that’s just pathetic.”

  She could stow that attitude and keep her opinions to herself.

  “Don’t you know by now that nothing would have been good enough for that greedy two-timer?”

  It was true. Nothing had been good enough for Lisa. Not his job or the house. Not the amount of time he spent with her or the quality of life they’d had. He could still hear her voice, listing his shortcomings, justifying her reasons for leaving him. But he didn’t discuss that with his little sister, especially when she stood there with pity on her face.

  “There were a lot of things that bothered Lisa,” he said, wanting Meggy to leave it at that.

  “C’mon, admit it, Pete. Lisa was a pain. If you’re still clinging to an old address when you could be here, you’re just trying to prove a point. Unfortunately, the only thing you’re proving is how much Lisa still controls you.”

  Pounding anger ripped through his body. Meggy had no business butting into his life, no business at all. His know-it-all sister had crossed the line. To make things worse, it didn’t help realizing she just might be right.

  Behind the pulsing neon heart on the Dream Date set, Sunny waited with Pete for their cue, wondering what had happened to the easygoing guy who’d gotten her through their camera-chaperoned dates. Standing here, he was as standoffish as a little boy forced to share space with a yucky girl.

  Maybe he was nervous about going out there in front of the studio audience. That she could understand. The butterflies in her own stomach were having a party. Then again, maybe he was just here, doing his duty, helping her extricate herself from Bruce’s life, yet wanting her to realize this was it for him.

  If that was the case, so be it. Hadn’t they both said they weren’t ready for relationships? It wasn’t his fault she felt differently now. She’d made it alone before. She could again. Still, only yesterday, he’d sounded as if he thought of them as a couple with a future.

  “Are your girls here tonight?” he asked, breaking his silence.

  “Yes, though Mouse is miffed because I wouldn’t let her pick out my clothes. She says this looks like an old lady’s dress.”

  Her peripheral vision caught him checking out the dress she’d chosen from her pre-San Josita wardrobe. There’d only been one that was sexy enough for the character she was playing, yet a step up from the leather miniskirt. A designer label, the style emphasized her figure without being too revealing.

  “Mouse was wrong.” His lopsided smile made an appearance. “You look terrific.” His gaze lingered somewhere between her short hem and three-inch heels.

  It was just a stab in the dark, but if there was such a thing as a leg man, she�
��d say Pete was it.

  She returned the compliment. “You look nice tonight.”

  “Nice” was such an understatement. With his ebony hair freshly cut, his tanned, angular jaw closely shaved and his blue eyes just as kind and unconceited as ever, she could hardly keep her eyes off him. Dark jeans molded to muscular legs. A white shirt hung perfectly over his wide shoulders and powerful chest. The man was a genuine hunk.

  “Nervous?” he asked, his eyes skittering everywhere.

  “A little,” she admitted. “How about you?”

  “I’m so nervous, I’m about to be sick.”

  So that was it. How had she missed the tiny beads of sweat on his brow and the pallor around his mouth? “Are you going to be all right?” she asked.

  He nodded. “It’s the waiting I can’t take.”

  Meggy passed them, escorting the program’s chosen couple offstage. She must have known how Pete felt, for she patted his arm sympathetically and said, “You’re on next.”

  Pete knew he was about to be seriously sick. Like the last time he was here, giant willy worms crawled in his belly. His heart pounded crazily, and breathing was a voluntary task. How did they get people to go on this show day after day? Maybe Meggy had been desperate for a replacement when she’d begged him to help out.

  He sneaked another glance at Sunny. TV viewers would do a double take when they saw her in this segment. The first time they’d been on, she could have passed for a working girl on Wilshire Boulevard. Tonight she was still a knockout, but Rodeo Drive all the way. That dress probably cost more than he used to make in a week, maybe two. Light purple, the color of lilacs in the spring, it clung in all the right places and had a short skirt that showed off those fantastic legs. Her strappy high heels were a big improvement over her hiking boots, and her hair, shining like copper, curled softly around her pretty face.

  He’d told himself, after tonight he’d stay in his safe, familiar routine where he didn’t have to think, where he couldn’t possibly fail. Only, he didn’t feel like a failure with Sunny, and now that God was in his life, did he need the routine? Today had been rather boring. There had to be something better for him.

  He’d like to keep seeing Sunny, though she could sure do better than him. From her description of her parents’ place, his Sylvan City house could probably fit into their garage. She’d mentioned meeting the queen of England, the pope, even Clint Eastwood. Pete had seen them on TV. He and Sunny were worlds apart, a distance not even his current bank balance could bridge.

  She was closer to the backstage monitor than he was, and he leaned her way, as if he wanted to see the screen better. She shifted her body aside to allow him better vision, and he smelled her perfume, something fruity that made him think of sunshine, peaches and cream.

  On the screen Mike Michaels said, “A couple of weeks back, our audience matched a carpenter named Pete with a basketball coach named Sunny.” Across the monitor flickered an edited version of the show when they’d met. “As always, our producers had Pete and Sunny’s favorites in mind when they designed their dream date. Sunny said she liked to cook for her dates. Pete said he liked home-cooked meals. So, the first part of their date was Pot-Roast-At-Sunny’s-Place!”

  Pete watched himself drive up to Sunny’s condo and walk to her door with the rose in his hand. He felt even sillier now, watching himself on TV, than he had then.

  “Aw,” intoned the emcee, “Pete brought Sunny a flower.”

  They edited right to the first kiss, and Michaels said, “Now, that’s the way to greet a date, right, folks?”

  Sunny murmured, “That looked like a pretty good kiss.”

  “Pretty good, nothing. It was a great kiss.” It was the kiss that jolted him out of his solitary existence.

  “And here’s Pete helping out in the kitchen. He looks like he knows what he’s doing, doesn’t he?“

  “I’m glad one of us did,” she said softly with a giggle.

  He loved hearing her laugh.

  From Part Two of the date, they showed the playful peekaboo scene, their kiss under the big lodgepole pine and the helicopter landing on the hospital roof. He groaned, embarrassed at being portrayed as an invalid.

  “I had to have my way about that trail,” she whispered, her face drawn, her big eyes so sad, he couldn’t take it.

  “Hey, none of that.” He put his arm around her. “We’ve already had this discussion. Okay?”

  Her eyes searched his face. If his life depended on it, he couldn’t have looked away. He wanted her to look inside his heart and see how much he wanted her there, needed her there.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Mike said, “let’s welcome Pete and Sunny back to Dream Date.”

  The audience applauded and the stage manager cued them to go.

  He couldn’t move.

  “Take my hand,” Sunny whispered.

  Like a man clutching hope, he took it, and once again walked into blinding bright light. Only, this time, he wasn’t alone.

  “They’re holding hands, folks. That’s a good sign.”

  The audience applauded as they took the sofa beside Mike.

  “Tell me, Sunny,” the emcee asked, “was your date with Pete all you expected it would be?”

  “No, it wasn’t. Not at all,” she said, shaking her head, glancing at Pete apologetically.

  Whoa! He hadn’t expected that.

  “You can see that Pete is a very handsome man…”

  The audience applauded The Face.

  “But I really dreaded going out with Pete. My experience with handsome men had been awful.”

  It sounded like she was getting ready to burn him, but he knew better than that.

  “I assumed Pete was as conceited and full of himself as the last handsome guy I knew. That man—” she looked straight at the camera “—and you know who you are…”

  “Oooooh,” the audience responded, backing her up.

  “That man was a complete disappointment. When I got matched with Pete, I was ready for the worst.”

  “Uh-oh, I’m almost afraid to ask. How did it go?”

  “Mike, it was fabulous! Pete is the most wonderful man I’ve ever met.” She turned and blasted him with that thousand-watt smile.

  He swallowed hard.

  “This guy doesn’t have an ounce of conceit in his whole body. Unbelievable, isn’t it, ladies?”

  Applause burst from the audience. Pete felt hot color creep up his neck, but he didn’t mind. This was for the congressman, not him.

  “That’s not all,” Sunny continued. “Pete’s the most caring man I’ve ever met. The only thing that’s wrong with him…” She paused and glanced his way apologetically.

  He wasn’t worried. Much.

  “Pete just doesn’t realize how great he is.”

  “Ahhh,” the audience approved.

  His girl had poured it on pretty thick, but they seemed to be buying it. He slipped his arm around her, cuddling her, playing along. Playing along? What a lie. He loved holding her.

  Mike rubbed his hands together. “It’s looking good, folks, really good. Pete, was the date all you expected it to be?”

  Pete looked into Sunny’s soft, butternut eyes. He owed her a lot. Even before she’d said all those nice things, he’d planned what he was going to say. “My date with Sunny—” he paused, letting tension build “—was the best date I’ve ever had. In fact, she’s the best woman I’ve ever known.” That was for Lisa and the congressman.

  “Wow!” the emcee exclaimed.

  “Sunny’s everything a man wants in a woman. She’s intelligent, understanding, fun to be with, and you should have seen how she took care of me when I was injured.” He found the camera with the red light and said to her ex, “Any man who had Sunny’s love and didn’t cherish and appreciate her would be a real fool.”

  The audience applauded wildly.

  “Mike, you can see how pretty she is, but inside, where it counts most, Sunny is even more beautiful.”
>
  “Whew!” Michaels exclaimed. “That’s got me all choked up. I’m glad for you kids. At this time I usually ask if the date was a dream or a nightmare, but I think we already know. What was it, audience?”

  “A dreeeeeeeam.”

  Sunny looked at him as if he’d just hung the moon especially for her. Her eyes brimmed with tears, ready to spill any second. He bent his head, she circled his neck with her arms and he was smack in the middle of desire. The feel of her mouth, her arms, her sweet warm body—it was all he could ever want.

  Chapter Eleven

  Bruce smoothed the side of his hair where bejeweled fingers ruffled it. He didn’t like women touching his hair, but he had to put up with it. Too late he’d learned that Margo Price ratted her lovers out to her husband when they stopped making her happy, and too late he’d discovered her husband was a very scary guy. Everyone close to the senator knew Clive Price was on the staff because he’d do anything—snoop, steal, even worse.

  For now he was stuck with her, but Margo would have to leave him alone when he got back with Sunny. That almost made it worth the hoops he would have to jump through.

  “I hear Li’l Sunshine’s joining us today,” Margo said, angling her mouth on his.

  “Easy, woman, before I forget there’s not much privacy in a pool cabana. Let me get you a drink.”

  “Who needs a drink when I’ve got Brucey Daniels?” Margo giggled.

  He gave her a naughty wink. “Brucey’s not on the menu today, Margo. I’m saving myself for Sunshine.”

  “Then you should have gone to church with her.” Margo laughed at her own wit.

  “I’m not that desperate.”

  “Clive said she fell for that like a ton of bricks.”

  “I knew she would,” he said, giving himself a mental pat on the back.

  Margo touched up her lips. “After what she did to you, I can’t believe you want her back.”

  “What I want doesn’t come into it. Sam and Eleanor want her back! They treat me like the son they never had, but blood’s still thicker than water. They want a marriage.”