The Man Behind the Pinstripes

by Melissa McClone

  The employee, an older man with gray hair and wire-rimmed glasses, walked away with a proud grin on his face and standing two inches taller.

  “Do you know every single person who works here?” she asked.

  “No, but everyone wears a badge,” Caleb said. “That helps with the names.”

  Considerate of him, even though he’d accused her of trying to steal from Gertie. “The employees seem to appreciate your effort.”

  “They work hard.” Caleb opened one of the double glass doors for her. “It’s the least I can do.”

  “Thanks.” His manners had impressed Becca the first time they’d met. She was impressed now in spite of his accusations. But she wouldn’t allow herself to be taken in by him. Caleb Fairchild was no different from any other rich guy. She walked outside into bright daylight and stifling heat even though it was after seven at night. “The temperature hasn’t dropped at all.”

  Two construction workers wearing paint splattered coveralls and carrying hard hats, walked toward them with tired smiles.

  Caleb removed his suit jacket and draped it over his left arm. “Welcome to summer in Boise.”

  A fluorescent green food truck idled curbside with a line of customers waiting. The scent of garlic and rosemary filled the air. Becca’s mouth watered. She stared at the plate of noodles and pork being dished up through the window.

  “Hungry?” Caleb asked.

  “A little.” She hadn’t eaten lunch. “Whatever they’re cooking smells good.”

  “It does.”

  A siren wailed.

  Goosebumps covered her skin in spite of the heat. She hated sirens. The sound brought back too many memories, memories she wanted to forget.

  Hearing the handcuffs lock around her wrists. Being shoved into a police car. Feeling the heartbreak of betrayal.

  Becca crossed her arms in front of her chest and forced herself to keep walking.

  She wished she could forget. She wished others could forget, too. She wished people would trust her.

  Not just people. A person. Caleb.

  The realization disturbed her as much as the siren.

  Caleb’s opinion didn’t matter. And if she kept telling herself that she might finally believe it.

  Stop thinking about him!

  The sound faded into the distance.

  With a deep breath, she lowered her arms then pointed to a white sign about ten feet in front of them. “This is where I catch the bus.”

  Caleb looked around at the few people waiting. “Let me drive you to the Park & Ride lot. I can follow you back to Grams’s place and we can have dinner.”

  Becca’s breath caught in her throat. She opened her mouth to speak. No words came out. She tried again. “Thanks, but there’s no need for you to go to so much trouble.”

  “I need to eat, too.” He whipped out his cellphone. “I’ll see if Grams has eaten or not.”

  Dinner with Gertie, not a date with Caleb.

  Becca should be relieved, not disappointed. The guy had serious doubts about her. He was everything she didn’t want in a man. He was likely asking her to make amends for making her come here tonight. Of course, she’d never said yes to either the ride or dinner.

  Caleb flashed his phone, showing her a text exchange. “Mrs. Harrison was going to warm something up for Grams, but she would rather have pizza. Does salad and a pepperoni pizza with mushrooms sound good?”

  “Sounds great.” The words escaped before Becca could stop them. Darn, she knew better. On the bright side, Gertie would be thrilled to have her grandson there again and Becca wouldn’t have to worry about making dinner tonight.

  He typed on his phone. Messages pinged back and forth. “We’re all set. Grams will have the pizza delivered.”

  Becca glanced at the bus stop, then looked at Caleb. “Back to Fair Face.”

  “My car is in the parking lot of the building next door,” Caleb said.

  “Gertie said there was parking available beneath Fair Face.”

  “There is.”

  This wasn’t making sense. “Why aren’t you parked there?”

  “I prefer to let the employees and visitors use the closer spots.”

  Becca didn’t want to be more impressed. She didn’t want to like him, either. But she was. And she did in spite of a growing list of reasons she shouldn’t. The guy took his responsibilities seriously.

  She sneaked a peek at his profile. So handsome and strong and determined.

  Maybe he took things too seriously.

  A few minutes later, Caleb opened the door leading to a bank of elevators, blasting her with cool, refreshing air.

  She stepped inside and waited for him to join her. “Please don’t think you have to add me to your list.”

  “What list?”

  “The list of people and things you have to take care of.”

  His eyes widened. His lips parted. Shock turned to confusion followed by a blank expression. “What do you mean?”

  Maybe he was better at poker than she thought. If Becca hadn’t been paying attention, she would have missed the play of emotion across his face. “Seems like you’re the one responsible for taking care of your grandmother, your sister, Fair Face and your employees. I wouldn’t want you to think I need taking care of, too.”

  “I didn’t think that,” he said. “You seem capable of caring for yourself.”

  She nodded. “But it makes me wonder.”

  “What?”

  “Who takes care of you?”

  His eyes clouded. His posture stiffened. “I take care of myself. I also know Ty has my six.”

  “Your friend in the navy.”

  “Best friend,” Caleb said.

  “I wish I had a best friend like that.”

  “You don’t?”

  “I haven’t had a best friend since I was in seventh grade.” Cecily Parker had lived in the trailer park for six months. The best six months of Becca’s childhood. She and Cecily did everything together—rode the school bus, ate lunch in the cafeteria, had sleepovers. “Her mom met some guy online and moved to Cincinnati. Never heard from my friend again.”

  “What stopped you from getting a new best friend?”

  “No one wanted to be friends with the kid who lived in the trailer park.”

  “You don’t live in a trailer now.”

  “No, but making friends is different when you’re older.”

  “That’s true.”

  But some things hadn’t changed.

  Becca hadn’t spent the last few years trying to get her life back together to make the same mistake again with Caleb. He wasn’t Whit, but Caleb was rich, handsome and powerful, the kind of man who could get away with anything. The kind of man who wouldn’t think twice about breaking her heart.

  She needed to be smart about this, about him.

  She’d agreed to a ride and dinner, but that was all. He could advise them. Help them. But keeping her distance from him would be her smartest move. Even if that was the last thing she wanted to do.

  * * *

  After dinner, Caleb walked out onto his grandmother’s patio. Becca Taylor intrigued him. He didn’t need a PhD to realize she didn’t want to spend one more minute in his company.

  Her not saying a word on the drive to the Park & Ride lot had been his first clue. The way she’d sat at the opposite end of the table, as far away from him as possible, had been his second clue. The way she’d scarfed down her pizza and salad, as if a bomb was about to explode if she didn’t eat fast enough, and excused herself without wanting dessert had been his third and fourth clues.

  No other woman had been so blatant in their dislike of him.

  A door opened behind him.

  “I thought you
were heading home,” Grams said.

  Him, too. But something had stopped him from leaving. Not something. Someone. “I thought I might check on Becca first.”

  “She seemed preoccupied over dinner,” Grams said.

  He felt responsible. “Telling me what happened wasn’t easy for her.”

  “But she did.”

  “Becca was very open about it.” More so than he would have been if he’d been the one asked to explain.

  “Do you still think she’s trying to fleece me?”

  You still have doubts.

  Earlier this evening, the hurt in Becca’s voice had sliced through him, raw and jagged and deep. But she was correct. He still had doubts. Becca was a stranger, an unknown quantity.

  “People have ulterior motives and hidden agendas.” Both his ex-fiancée and his mother, the definition of a gold digger, had had them. “That’s human nature.”

  “Becca wouldn’t hurt me or anybody.”

  Caleb wished he had Grams’s confidence. But that was a lesson he should have learned from his father’s mistakes. Instead, it had taken Cassandra to teach him that trust was something to be earned, not given freely to a stranger. “Maybe I’ll feel that way after I get to know Becca better.”

  Though she knew him well enough. She understood him better than his family. Better than Cassandra. Better than everybody else in his life with the exception of Ty.

  That bothered Caleb. If the wrong people knew too much, they could use that to their advantage. They could hurt you.

  “I’m sure you will.” Grams touched his arm. “It’s getting late. Check on Becca, then head home.”

  “Will do.” He hugged his grandmother. “And before I forget, thanks for the pizza and the cake.”

  Grams beamed. “This is your home. You’re welcome anytime.”

  Being here brought back good memories and feelings of contentment. “Thanks.”

  Caleb followed the lighted path away from the patio. Stars filled the dark sky. Satellites circled above. The moon hung low.

  A beautiful night. One he would have been spending alone in his loft working if not for Becca. Sure, he could have seen the sky from the twenty-foot windows, but he much preferred being here.

  A cry filled the air. Not a human. A dog. In pain.

  Adrenaline surged. Caleb broke into a run.

  Becca.

  The moans continued. Barking from other dogs, too.

  Caleb knew it was a dog hurting, but his heart pounded against his ribs.

  What if he was wrong? What if she was hurt?

  He quickened his pace, his breath coming hard and fast.

  Only the porch light was on at the guest cottage. He continued to the kennel.

  The door was open, the lights on.

  He ran inside.

  Dogs stood at the front of their kennels barking and agitated.

  He glanced around.

  Becca sat on the floor, her legs extended. A stethoscope hung around her neck. She wore an ivory-colored lace-trimmed camisole that stretched across her chest. Her suit jacket covered the dog lying across her lap. The animal was the one who’d shed all over Caleb.

  What was the dog’s name? Morris?

  No, Maurice. The Norwegian elkhound.

  Caleb kneeled at Becca’s side. Touched her bare shoulder. Ignored her soft skin and warmth beneath his hand. “What’s going on?”

  “Maurice.” She rubbed the dog. “His stomach is distended. He’s gassy and in pain.”

  The dog looked miserable. The other dogs wouldn’t stop barking. Maurice wouldn’t move.

  “Is it serious?” Caleb asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m not sure what’s wrong,” she said. “The staff only uses products Gertie’s made or approved, so I’m not worried about chemical poisoning. But if Maurice ate too much, there’s the risk of bloat. His stomach could flip. Elkhounds aren’t as prone as other breeds, but his pulse is high. Heart rate, too. I gave Gertie a call, but she didn’t answer.”

  “She was on the patio with me.”

  “I’m going to take Maurice to the animal hospital where I work. I’d rather not take any chances.”

  Becca spoke calmly and in control, but worry filmed her eyes. He wanted to kiss it away. Hell, he wanted to make the poor dog feel better, too. “I’ll let my grandmother know.”

  About to reach for his cellphone, Caleb realized he was still touching Becca’s shoulder. He hadn’t noticed. The gesture felt so natural, so right. Maybe because she was so different from other women he’d known, especially Cassandra. Maybe that was why Becca felt...safe. He lowered his arm then pulled out his phone.

  “Tell Gertie not to worry,” Becca said. “The door to the food cabinet door was ajar. Maurice might have gotten into there and gorged himself on whatever he found.”

  The dog released a groan that sounded as if someone was rolling his innards through a pasta machine.

  The other dogs barked. Two howled.

  Becca made soothing sounds and kept rubbing Maurice. “I bet you got into the food. Is that what happened, boy?”

  The dog’s gaze didn’t leave hers.

  Caleb thought that was one smart dog. Well, except for overeating.

  “It’s okay,” Becca said. “You’re not in trouble. Not at all.”

  Her soft voice was like a caress against Caleb’s face, even though the words were for the dog’s sake, he wished they were for him.

  “You’re going to have to go to the vet.” She kissed Maurice’s head. “You won’t like that, but I’ll be with you.”

  Caleb touched the dog. “I’ll drive you.”

  “Thanks, but I’ve got a crate in the backseat. I need to move my car closer to make things easier on Maurice.”

  “I’ll stay here with him while you do that.”

  “He’ll shed on you.”

  “It’s only dog hair,” Caleb said. “And you have a lint roller.”

  The corners of her mouth curved in an appreciative smile. She stood. “Thanks. Be right back.”

  He took her place. The dog didn’t seem to mind.

  “It’s okay, boy.” He rubbed Maurice’s head. “You’re in good hands. Becca’s going to take care of you.”

  Two brown, sad eyes met Caleb’s. The look of total trust and affection sent the air rushing from his lungs. It was as if the dog understood.

  Maybe Maurice did.

  Caleb took a breath then leaned over so he could whisper in the dog’s ear. “You’re one lucky dog. I wish Becca liked me half as much as she cares for you.”

  But she didn’t and wouldn’t.

  For the best, he told himself.

  Too bad a part of him wasn’t so sure.

  * * *

  Becca parked outside the kennel, left the engine idling then opened the car’s back door.

  Maurice was going to be fine. Just fine.

  Repeating the words over and over again, she ran to the kennel.

  If anything, she was wasting her time, gas and Gertie’s money. Becca would be happy to waste all three as long as Maurice was okay.

  She entered the kennel. Froze.

  Caleb sat on the floor, in his designer suit, with Maurice’s head resting on his lap. He rubbed the dog, talking in a soft voice.

  Her mouth went dry.

  The tenderness in Caleb’s eyes as he stared at the dog sent Becca’s heart thudding.

  Her pulse rate kicked up a notch, maybe two.

  Wait a minute. This was the same man who didn’t trust her, who didn’t like her, who wanted her fired.

  But she couldn’t help herself. He’d cranked up the charm without even realizing the affect this would have on her. Best to dial that down ASAP.

&nb
sp; She cleared her throat. “How’s he doing?”

  “Not feeling too well, are you, boy?”

  The sweet way Caleb spoke to the dog tugged at her heartstrings. Ignore it. Him. “Thank you for sitting with him. I can put him in his crate now.”

  Before Becca blinked, Caleb was on his feet. He picked up the dog easily, helping out both her and Maurice. “I’ll carry him.”

  At the car, they loaded Maurice into the crate. She double-checked the latch to make sure it was secure. All set.

  Caleb opened the driver’s door.

  “I appreciate your help.” She hadn’t known what to expect from Caleb, but his assistance with Maurice hadn’t been it. “Tell Gertie I’ll call as soon as I know anything.”

  “I’ll check on the other dogs, then wait with Grams until you call. She wants to go with you.”

  “It could be a long night.”

  “That’s what I figured,” he said. “She opened the food cupboard to get dog treats earlier. She feels awful for not double checking the door was shut.”

  “Tell her not to worry. We’ll get Maurice fixed right up.”

  “If not...”

  “Let’s not go there.”

  Their gazes met. Held. The same connection she’d felt the first day they’d met. But this wasn’t the time to analyze things. Not with Maurice in pain.

  Caleb kissed her cheek.

  More of a peck, if she wanted to be technical, a brush of his lips over her skin. But her heart pounded. Warmth rushed through her.

  “For luck,” he said.

  Becca resisted the impulse to kiss him back, only hard on the lips. She couldn’t afford the distraction. Maurice needed her. She forced herself into the driver’s seat then buckled her seat belt.

  This wasn’t the time or the place for more kisses. Most importantly this wasn’t the man she should be kissing.

  Not tonight. Not tomorrow night. Not ever.

  * * *

  Four hours later, Becca pulled into the guest cottage’s driveway. Every muscle ached from tiredness. Her eyelids wanted to close. But she wasn’t going to sleep much tonight.

  Not when she needed to watch Maurice.

  She glanced in the rearview mirror. “We’re home, handsome.”