by SJ McCoy
She laughed. “Yes, it will.” She got up and planted a kiss on the end of his nose. “Don’t worry, you couldn’t be too sweet if you tried. You’re too much of a guy for them to take your Man Card away.”
He laughed. “To me, that’s a compliment, and I’m going to take it that way whether you meant it or not.”
She gave him a mischievous smile over her shoulder as she went inside to get her laptop. Leaving him to hope that she had meant it that way and wondering if she’d deliberately avoided the question of where she was going on her time off.
When she came back out, she set up her laptop on the table, and he went to sit beside her. “Was Grace pleased with the article?”
“She was. You can read it, if you like. There’s nothing about you in there, other than naming you as one of the bachelors.” She didn’t look up as she spoke; she was logging in and searching through her files.
“It’s okay. I trust you.”
She turned and planted a kiss on his lips. “Thank you. I’d like you to read it anyway. Tell me what you think?”
“Okay. But show me Terry first.”
She was clicking through photo albums, and he smiled when he saw Terry in his tux. She clicked on the thumbnail, and he grinned when he saw the full-size picture. “That’s awesome. He looks great, and he looks so happy.”
Dani nodded and clicked through a few more. “This is the picture for the article. I thought he’d like to see it in the magazine.”
TJ shook his head and tried to hide his smile when he saw it. Terry was kissing Barbara Holmes’ hand at the bottom of the steps when they’d come down from the stage. He was looking up at her, and she was beaming down at him. “Damn! You might have a point about a romantic happily ever after. I never thought I’d see the day, but it’s right there.” He nodded at her happily. “Terry’s in love! And so’s Barbara.”
“You think you can tell from just a photo?”
“Absolutely! Don’t tell me you can’t see it. Look at the way he’s looking at her—the way she’s looking at him. They might not know it themselves yet—but even I can tell.” He gave her a dark look. “And no, that doesn’t make me sweet, just observant.”
She laughed. “I wasn’t going to say it.”
“Good.” He looked at her, wondering if she had a problem. She seemed wary about something, but maybe it was him? Maybe his inner cynic needed to stay out of it. He slung his arm around her shoulders. “Thanks for showing me these. You made my day.”
She nodded. “I’m glad you liked them.”
~ ~ ~
Dani closed her laptop. She’d had half a mind to show him the photos of the two of them. Alan had given her permission to download as many as she liked. She didn’t know whether she wanted TJ to see them or not now. Would he see what Alan had when he looked at them? Would he see two people who were besotted with each other? And how would he react if he did? He’d been so happy to see Terry and Barbara look like that. She didn’t think she wanted to know if he’d be as enthusiastic if he could see it in the photos of the two of them. That was a big if, though. Maybe she’d show them to him another time.
He kissed her cheek and then nibbled his way down her neck.
They had more pressing things to do right now anyway.
Chapter Fifteen
“Are you ready?” TJ was waiting by the front door. Dani was still in the bedroom, and at this rate, they were both going to be late for work.
She hurried out looking harassed. “Sorry. You go on without me. I can take a cab. I don’t want to make you late.”
He went to her and closed his arms around her. She felt tense. “Relax. It’s okay.”
She looked up into his eyes. “Sorry. I don’t think I can relax.”
He hugged her closer. “I don’t want to think that I’m the cause of your stress, but I have to ask—am I?”
“No! It’s not you. It’s me.”
He pursed his lips. “We just spent the last two nights together, and you’re already going to feed me that line?”
She sighed. “I don’t mean it like that. You’re not the source of my stress. I have a big interview today—for that makeup line I told you about?”
“I know, but I thought it was more of a pain in the ass than a worry.”
“It should be, but I hate it. It makes me want to give my notice in before I go away.”
“You still haven’t told me where you’re going.”
She made a face. “We’re going to be really late if we get into that now. Come on, I’ll tell you on the way. Are you sure you don’t want me to take my car?”
He shook his head with a smile. She’d stayed here with him on Wednesday night, and he’d invited her to come back again last night. She’d driven here and could just as easily take her car as ride with him, but he liked it. “I can wait. It’s not a problem.”
She was quiet as they set out. He had to wonder if she was avoiding telling him about her time off again.
Eventually, she turned to look at him. “I haven’t told you where I’m going, because I don’t know myself yet. It’s Matt’s anniversary the week after next. Each year, since he died, I’ve taken a few days off to think about him. To go and be somewhere quiet, and …” She shrugged. “It probably won’t make sense, but it does to me, and that’s what matters.”
He reached across and took hold of her hand. “It doesn’t need to make sense to anyone but you. But for what it’s worth, it does make sense to me.”
She nodded, and he glanced across at her. There were tears shining in her eyes.
“But you haven’t made up your mind where you want to go?”
“No. Last year I just got in the car and drove. I ended up in Arizona, in the Superstition Mountains. It was right.”
“Do you plan to get in the car and drive again this time?” He didn’t like that idea, but he knew it wasn’t his place to say so.
She shrugged. “I wanted to go somewhere farther afield. I was going to make a plan and scout out somewhere where there are few to no people and lots of nature.”
He nodded. He had an idea of the perfect place for her, but he didn’t know what she’d make of it.
She squeezed his hand. “I hope that’s not a disapproving look?”
“No. I had a thought, and I’m going to put it out there. Take it or leave it.”
“What?”
“I told you I have a house in Montana. It’s half an hour from Yellowstone in Paradise Valley. It’s beautiful, peaceful—you can hike, ride, visit the park, or just hang out at the house. There’s a deck over the river.” He glanced over at her.
“That’s sweet of you, TJ. It really is, and I’d love for us to go there sometime. But this is about me being alone. I need it.”
“And that’s what I mean. I wasn’t suggesting we go. I mean, you can have the house, if you want.”
“Oh!”
“Bad idea?”
“No. It’s an amazing idea. And so sweet of you. Thank you.”
He cleared his throat and spoke in the deepest voice he could muster. “Just being neighborly, ma’am.”
She laughed. “I think I need to keep calling you sweet. I love it when you talk like that.”
He laughed with her. “How about I just talk like that all the time and you can stop calling me sweet?”
“Aw, but you are. You’re like a big teddy bear.”
“No! Take that back. That’s going too far.”
She shook her head adamantly. “I won’t take it back, and you can’t make me. In fact, I might have to start calling you Teddy.”
Did she know? She must. “Okay, that’s below the belt. Who told you?”
“Told me what?”
She did a good job of playing the innocent. She almost had him doubting.
“You know what I mean.”
“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” She laughed indignantly. “All I said was that I’m g
oing to start calling you Teddy and … oh!”
Shit! She hadn’t known, but she’d figured it out now.
She laughed. “That’s your name, isn’t it? You’re Teddy by name and a teddy bear by nature. That’s awesome. So, you’re what, Edward? No! Theodore. Please, tell me it’s Theodore.”
He pursed his lips and nodded as he focused on the road.
“Oh my God! That’s so perfect!”
“Why?”
“Because you’re a teddy bear.”
He tried to hide his smile. This wasn’t funny, but it was hard to be grumpy in the face of her delight. “I am not a teddy bear. And even if I were, why would a Theodore bear be better than an Edward bear?”
“You don’t know?” She sounded shocked.
“I have no clue, but I’m sure you’re about to enlighten me.”
“Heathen!” she said with a laugh. “The teddy bear is named after our twenty-sixth president—the one and only, Theodore Roosevelt.”
“Get out of here!”
She blew out a sigh. “Please tell me you can read and write? I can’t believe that an educated person in this country doesn’t know the story of how teddy bears came to be.”
He smiled through pursed lips. “Go on. I know you’re dying to tell me.”
“Okay. You know Roosevelt was known to be a big hunter?”
He kept quiet. History had never held much interest for him.
“Ugh! You didn’t even know that, did you?”
He smirked. “It doesn’t seem like particularly useful information.”
She slapped his arm. “Well, he was. I’ll give you the very brief version because you need to know. Theodore!”
He shot her an evil look. “If I wasn’t driving, I’d put you over my knee and spank you for that.”
“Ooh! Maybe later?”
He shook his head.
“In 1902, Roosevelt went on a bear hunt in Mississippi, and the people he was with tied a bear to a tree for him to shoot.”
TJ scowled.
“Ha. You’re just like your namesake. He disapproved, too, and refused to shoot it. When the story about him refusing to shoot the bear made it back to DC, the Washington Post ran a cartoon about it. A couple in New York who made stuffed toys saw it and had the idea to make stuffed bears. They even got Roosevelt’s permission to call it a teddy bear. They started mass producing them, and people loved them. And that is how the Ideal Toy Company was born.”
He shook his head. “How do you even know that?”
She laughed. “I thought everyone did, but maybe I’m just a mine of useless information.”
“Nah. You’re a smart woman. I’m just a dumb grunt.”
“Don’t you dare say that about my boyfriend.” She went quiet when she realized what she’d said.
He couldn’t hide his smile. “So, I’m your boyfriend, huh?”
She nodded. “I guess you are. If that’s okay with you.”
“Yeah. It is. I like it.”
She leaned across and planted a kiss on his shoulder. “Good. Me too.”
They were almost to her office now. The drive went by so quickly when he shared it with her. The traffic had been bad, even for a Friday, but it hadn’t mattered. Not while she was in the car with him—educating him about teddy bears!
“What time do you want me to pick you up?”
“I’d guess at five, but I can call you this afternoon and give you a better idea. Or I can take a cab and meet you at your place. Traffic’s going to be horrible this afternoon.”
He smiled as he brought the car to a stop. “I’ll be here. Just let me know when. I don’t like the idea of my girlfriend having to take a cab.”
She leaned toward him with a big smile on her face. “Thank you.”
He planted a peck on her lips. “I’ll have to save the rest for later. If I kiss you now, we’ll both be late.”
“I can wait—and just so you know, I’ll be waiting to hear what the J’s for, too.”
He frowned. “The J? You lost me.”
“TJ!”
“Oh.”
She reached for the door handle. “See you later, Theodore.”
He had to laugh. “Don’t look so pleased with yourself. I’ll get you back.”
She got out and closed the door, cutting off the sound of her laughter as she walked away.
He shook his head with a rueful smile. It wasn’t like he was ashamed of his name, not like he had been when he was a kid. Back then, it had a been a pain in the ass. These days he didn’t even feel like Theodore was his name. It was just a reminder of a grandpa he barely remembered. He’d been TJ since he was eight. It’d given Dani a giggle though, and he was good with that—as long as she didn’t plan to start calling him Teddy for real!
~ ~ ~
“You’re late.” Alan greeted her with a scowl.
“Only by a few minutes and she’s not coming in till ten anyway.”
“Do you think you’ll ever learn to just say sorry and not talk back?”
She shrugged. Probably not, but she thought better of telling him so. “You know Sara would love to do this interview. She’s your makeup girl.”
Alan’s expression grew darker. “Is that so? And just what story would you like to cover? Maybe you think I should shuffle everyone around to suit you? If you’re too good to cover makeup and perfume stories, what exactly is it that you would like to write, Miss Walsh?”
She blew out a sigh. “Don’t be like that. I’m sorry. Okay?”
He shook his head. “You’re pushing your luck, you know. I don’t need the hassle. You’re right, I could put Sara on this. She’d do fine, and more importantly, she’d be happy to do it and wouldn’t give me all this back-talk. I only keep you around because you write great articles—when you’re interested. So, come on. Tell me what story you’d like to write.”
She eyed him warily, not sure if he was serious, or just mad at her and being sarcastic.
He waited. “What, so you don’t want to write about makeup, but you don’t have any ideas of your own?”
“I do, as a matter of fact.” Damn! Why had she opened her mouth?
“Fire away. I’m all ears.”
“Well, we did the piece about the center, but it was really a celebrity gossip piece, wasn’t it?”
He didn’t answer, so she ventured on, unsure if she was about to get herself fired.
“The center is so much more than Oscar and Grace. You should see all the programs they run. They help single moms and give kids a place to go after school. The seniors use it as their gathering place, and then, there’s the vets.”
Alan’s expression changed, but she didn’t know what he was thinking.
“Most of them don’t have anywhere to go, you know. I hate the hand they’re dealt when they come back. They put their lives on the line for this country, and yet when they come back …” She shook her head.
Alan blew out a sigh. “We don’t do political.”
“It’s not about politics, Alan!”
They were both surprised at the vehemence of her tone.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It wasn’t really at you; it’s at the injustice of it all. There’s not enough help for them. I mean, I know there are services, but those services are all so overwhelmed that they can’t keep up.”
Alan nodded. “You’re right, Dani, and I feel like a real shit saying it, but that’s not what we do here. We’re a gossip magazine. We don’t address real issues. We provide light entertainment.”
She sighed. “I know, but like you said before, I can’t compromise on what’s important to me.”
“Could you write something with an upbeat angle to it?”
She made a face. “What’s upbeat about men and women coming home broken and being abandoned because they can’t cope with everyday life? What spin could I put on heroes sleeping on the streets, becoming alcoholics, and
in so many cases, ending their own lives?”
Alan shook his head. “Don’t take it out on me. I understand. But we can only do what we can do. I’m not asking you for a positive spin on a desperate situation. I’m asking if you can find me a human-interest story—something that will make people care. The bachelor auction wasn’t about that. Like you say, it was a celebrity gossip piece at its core. Can you give me something that the public can get behind?”
She grinned as an idea hit her. “TJ’s been telling me about a book drive they’re starting. One of the vets had the idea. All the addictions that they fall into, they’re just a means to escape. And he said—and I agree—that reading is one of the best escapes you can find. And it’s a lot healthier than most.”
Alan smiled. “There you go. We have your story. You get to work on that. Can you have it ready for, say, not next week but the following week?”
“No. I’m off then, remember?”
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t think.” He looked so uncomfortable, it was obvious he remembered why she was taking off. “Have you spoken to your folks lately?”
She shook her head. “I don’t like to call them at this time of year.”
Alan sighed. “They love you, you know.”
“I know.” She couldn’t stand to get into that. Not here. Not now. “So, would it work if I did it a couple of weeks after I get back? I know they plan for it to be an ongoing appeal.”
“Sure.” He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he changed his mind and smiled. “Now get to your office and get set up. This doesn’t get you out of the interview this morning.”
“Ah, well. It was worth a try.” She smiled back at him. It was like they were agreeing to a truce. They’d edged too close to difficult territory, and had both conceded a little rather than going any further.
Alan put a hand on her shoulder. “I know your mom and dad struggle still. Marie and I are here for you if ever you need us, you know.”
Tears stung behind her eyes. He was a kind soul, and she must be a pain in his ass. “Thanks, Alan. I don’t deserve you, you know.”
He chuckled. “It’s funny, I’ve been known to say the same thing about you.”
She laughed. “Yeah. I’m sure. I’ll make this article a good one for you, I promise. I’ll do it so it’s entertaining. Better yet, I can make it engaging—get the readers to care, and to donate their old books and feel involved.”