The Man Next Door
Page 4
He digested that with a thoughtful nod. “So, how’d you end up in Little Rock?”
“I needed a change of scenery.” Which was all she intended to tell him about that. Her college scholarship, the money her grandmother had given her to fund the move and help her get set up in the piano-lesson business, the reasons she’d felt the need for that change of scenery—all of that was more than a casually friendly neighbor needed to know.
Something about the way he looked at her let her know he’d read a lot more than she’d intended into her nonanswer, but he let it go. He stood and carried his plate, glass and cocoa mug to the sink, where he rinsed and stacked them. “Thanks for the food,” he said. “I needed the boost before I go out again.”
“You’re going out again tonight?” She tilted her head, listening to the rain still hammering against the windows. “In this?”
“No choice,” he said with a shrug. “Working a case.”
“At the risk of sounding like Mrs. Parsons, you really shouldn’t work so hard.”
He grinned and chucked her chin lightly with his knuckles. “Trust me, you look nothing like Mrs. Parsons.”
Wondering how to take that, she followed him to the door. “So, should I advise you to be careful tonight?”
“Sure. It’s always nice to have someone express concern.”
“Okay, then I will. Be careful.”
He paused in the doorway, one foot out in the hall. “Worried about me?”
She waved a hand in a negligent gesture. “You’re a decent neighbor. Quiet. Handy with furniture crises. Since you never know what you’re going to get with neighbors, I’d just as soon not have to deal with a new one.”
He laughed. “Trust you to keep my ego in check.”
Because that was so close to the things she’d thought about him, she laughed, too.
He took another step out. “See you around, Dani.”
“Teague?” His name left her before she’d planned what she was going to ask.
“Yeah?”
Oh, what the heck. It was going to drive her nuts if she didn’t get this cleared up. “You aren’t going to ask me out, are you?”
His grin widened. “Nope.”
“Not your type?”
He looked rather smugly delighted that she’d asked. “Too high maintenance.”
Surprised, she lifted an eyebrow. “You think so?”
“Honey, I know so.” He turned and strode down the hallway toward his door, saying over his shoulder, “Thanks again for the cocoa and the sandwich.”
Rather bemused, Dani closed her door and turned the lock. After a moment she started to laugh.
Chapter Three
Dani met her newest neighbor a little more than a week later. They crashed into each other—literally—when Dani stepped out of her apartment just as Hannah Ross stumbled out of the elevator, her arms piled so high with books that she didn’t even see Dani coming her way.
“I’m so sorry,” Hannah said, her fair cheeks almost as red as the curly hair she’d pulled back into a low ponytail. “I wasn’t paying attention. I hope you aren’t hurt.”
“No, I’m fine. Are you?” Dani bent to gather a couple of the thick textbooks scattered on the ugly green hallway carpet.
“Sure, I’m okay. I’m Hannah Ross, by the way.”
“The medical student. I know. Mrs. Parsons told me.”
Hannah smiled, her amber eyes lighting up. “She’s a sweet woman, isn’t she? She reminds me of my great-aunt.”
“Yes, I’ve grown very fond of her. I’m Dani Madison, as she probably told you.”
“Piano teacher and music student,” Hannah murmured, proving that Mrs. Parsons had been chattering to her, too. “It’s nice to officially meet you.”
They’d nodded and exchanged greetings in the past, but this was the first time they’d bothered to introduce themselves. Dani had thought the other woman was shy, perhaps. Or maybe one of those women who took an unreasonable dislike to Dani on sight—as a few women had. Now she was back to the shy theory, since Hannah’s smile looked friendly enough.
Dani, herself, had been so absorbed with work and studying that she hadn’t really thought to make friends with her neighbors, other than Mrs. Parsons, who didn’t really give anyone a choice about being her friend. Teague hadn’t given her a lot of choice, either, she thought with a slight smile. She might as well get to know Hannah while she was at it.
“It’s nice to meet you, too.” Standing, she set the books she’d gathered on top of the pile in Hannah’s arms. “Looks like you’ve got a long night ahead.”
Hannah nodded gravely. “I have a gross-anatomy test next week. They’re killers.”
“I can imagine. My brother-in-law is a doctor, specializing in geriatrics. He’s talked about how hard medical school is, especially that first year.”
Hannah sighed. “They keep telling me it gets easier. I just hope I survive that long.”
“You will. So, good luck on your test.”
“Thanks. Um, maybe you want to get a pizza or something sometime? I’ve only lived in this city a couple of months and I haven’t met many people my age yet. As for single guys—I don’t think they exist around here.”
Dani laughed. “They exist. It’s just that the pickings seem pretty slim at times. And yeah, give me a call sometime when you’re taking a break from studying and we’ll order pizza and watch chick films.”
Hannah smiled. “That sounds like fun. It’ll give me incentive to keep studying for this test.”
So now she had another potential friend in the building, Dani thought as she stepped into the elevator, tucking her big tote bag more snugly beneath her arm. An old woman, a frazzled med student and a sexy fed. A diverse group, that, and she didn’t know which one was the more surprising as a friend.
As for which was the more disturbing—well, no question there. Only one of them had an uncomfortable habit of showing up unbidden in her daydreams.
Pushing that errant thought to the back of her mind, she moved to the back of the car when a young woman and her infant got on the elevator on the second floor. Nodding a greeting, she reflected on how her life had changed since she’d moved away from Georgia. She’d had dozens of friends there. An active social life. A growing reputation as a club singer. Family.
Now, with some distance behind her, she could see that former life a bit more clearly. Many of her friends had been of the fair-weather variety, hanging around only for the good times, notably absent during the bad. Her social life had consisted of a series of empty, unsatisfying relationships that had eventually led to a nearly disastrous affair with a man who’d almost destroyed her pride and self-esteem—and had once even resorted to physical violence. The clubs had been where she had met the string of losers and users she’d dated. And her family, while loving and well intentioned, had made it much too easy for her to continue her self-destructive ways by always bailing her out of trouble.
She had spent the past year trying to make a better life for herself. Pursuing a degree. Paying her own bills with money she made from her piano students, learning to deal with her own problems. Dating rarely, and then only on her own terms.
She didn’t really miss the people she’d hung out with, since she had stayed in occasional contact with the real friends in the group. She missed singing in the clubs sometimes. Frankly, she had enjoyed the applause. Though she knew she had talent, she had never particularly craved a career in the entertainment business. And she still sang quite often in the music department at the university, but she made little effort to take any starring parts.
She had finally, belatedly arrived at the conclusion that she didn’t need a spotlight to make her feel good about herself. Just as she didn’t need a man’s approval to validate her self-worth. She had been fortunate to figure that out at a relatively young age, and after only one painfully dysfunctional relationship. It took some women years to come to the same conclusion. Others, unfortunately, never go
t there, drifting from one bad situation to another, looking to others for something they could never seem to find within themselves.
And she was falling into psych-student-think, she realized with a grimace, climbing into her vehicle on her way to several scheduled piano lessons. It was typical of the average psychology student to either try to identify everyone around with some exotic neurosis, or to try to self-diagnose those same problems. Maybe she should just concentrate on her schedule for the rest of the day. Her life was on track now, and she intended to keep it that way.
Dani opened the back of her miniature SUV and studied the wooden rocking chair angled precariously inside. She’d barely been able to fit it in, and then only after several tries and assistance from a couple of helpful—and flirtatious—teenage boys. She smiled, remembering how cute they’d been with their swaggering and posturing, and then felt a bit old for thinking of them that way.
Reaching into her vehicle, she got a good grasp on the chair, preparing to haul it out.
“Hang on a minute.” Teague spoke from right behind her. “Let me help you with that.”
While she hadn’t minded accepting help from the teenagers, doing so from Teague was a little different. “I can handle it.”
“I’m sure you can, but you said I was handy with furniture, remember? When you listed the reasons why I made a pretty good neighbor. I don’t want to risk my rep.”
After a very brief mental debate, she stepped back, deciding that accepting his assistance with this relatively minor task was hardly admitting helplessness. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He worked the chair carefully out of the SUV, taking pains to do no damage to either. “It almost didn’t fit in there, huh?”
“It took some effort,” she agreed.
“Nice chair.”
“I bought it at a garage sale down the street. I love rocking chairs, and when I saw it sitting there, I had to stop.”
“It’s in really good shape. Looks comfortable.”
“Yeah. I was lucky to spot it before someone else did. The lady I bought it from said she forgot to set it out earlier. It could stand to be refinished eventually, but I think it looks fine for now.”
Carrying the chair toward the building entrance, Teague asked, “Do you shop at garage sales often?”
She shrugged, following him to the elevator. “I’ve found a few bargains that way. I don’t have a lot of extra money for decorating right now, so garage sales are a good resource.”
“Your apartment looks nice. Wherever you shop, you choose nice things.”
“Thanks.” The offhanded compliment pleased her more than it should have. “My sister’s the one with the decorating talent. Maybe I picked up a few tips from her along the way.”
“Or maybe you have talent of your own,” he suggested, hauling the rocker into the elevator.
She laughed when he set the chair down and took a seat as the elevator rose. “Comfy?”
“Mmm.” He yawned and rocked slowly. “I could probably take a nap right here.”
“You do look tired,” she commented, studying the shadows beneath his closed eyes.
“Thanks a lot,” he murmured without lifting his lids.
“I haven’t seen you around for the past week.”
“Been working out of town. Got back late last night.”
He looked really good sitting in her rocker with his eyes closed, his jeaned legs stretched out in front of him, hands crossed on his stomach. She had to clear her throat silently before asking, “Where have you been?”
“Oh. You know. I could tell you, but then—”
She rolled her eyes. “You’d have to kill me,” she said, completing the tired, overused joke.
“No. I was going to say, but then you’d have to pretend to be interested,” he said, opening his eyes with a smart-aleck grin.
She laughed as the elevator doors opened. “So, when you’re finished with your nap, would you mind bringing the chair to my place?”
He sighed heavily and lumbered to his feet, hoisting the rocking chair up again while she held the elevator doors open.
“Where do you want it?” he asked when she opened her apartment door.
“Just set it in that corner,” she said, pointing. “I’ll decide exactly where I want it later.”
“No problem.” He deposited the chair, then headed for the door. “See you later, Dani.”
“Can I offer you a soft drink or anything before you go?” she asked. “As a thank-you for bringing up my chair?”
“I’ll take a rain check, if you don’t mind. I’ve got plans for tonight and I need to clean up first.”
“Okay. Well…thank you.”
He shot her a smile. “You’re welcome.”
He let himself out.
Dani sat in the rocking chair, stroking her hands down the worn-smooth maple arms. It was only her imagination, of course, that the seat was still warm from Teague sitting in it.
She wondered about his plans for the evening. Was he working again? Or socializing? Was he seeing someone? Someone he considered less “high maintenance” than her? Someone who could enjoy his company without worrying about getting too deeply involved, or losing herself in a one-sided relationship?
She released a long, slightly wistful sigh, then pushed herself to her feet. She had a small steak in the fridge. She’d bought it on sale yesterday, and she had planned a special dinner for herself tonight. The steak, a baked potato and a crisp salad—a real treat considering her limited food budget. A feast for one, of which she intended to savor every bite. Without once thinking about Teague.
Okay, so maybe the latter was improbable, she thought ruefully, opening the refrigerator door. But she’d try to enjoy her meal anyway.
“Great party, huh?”
Looking up from the single can of beer he’d been nursing for the past half hour, Teague nodded in response to Mike’s shouted question. Then he leaned closer to his friend to ask, “Does it mean I’m getting old if I say that I wish they’d turn the music down a little?”
“Yeah. That’s exactly what it means,” Mike said with a laugh, leaning against the arched doorway that separated the living room from the formal dining room of the home in which the party was being held. The house was owned by Pete Schram, a lawyer who did some work for the FBI, and Pete’s girlfriend, an up-and-coming fashion designer who answered only to the name of “Z.” Z liked to entertain, and Pete indulged her by cohosting parties at least once a month. Teague had dropped in on a few, finding them always loud, frenetic, cheerful, exhausting. More so the latter tonight, since he was already tired, anyway.
He shouldn’t have come, really. Not after the week he’d put in on the job. But he’d found himself contemplating an evening alone in front of the TV, followed by turning in early, and that had made him feel even older than his wish that someone would turn the music down. Besides, if he’d sat at home, he’d find himself thinking too much about Dani, which was a bad habit he’d gotten into lately. He really needed to spend some time with another woman.
“Hey, isn’t that Kelly Something-or-other over there? The one you went out with a couple of times last spring?”
Looking in the direction of Mike’s nod, Teague spotted the curvy blonde smiling back at him from the other side of the room. “Callie, not Kelly. And yeah, she and I have been out a few times.”
Memorable times, he added silently. Callie’s one goal in life was to have a good time, making sure everyone around her did, as well. He’d always had fun with Callie, but that had been the extent of their relationship. She had a well-known aversion to permanent commitments, and he hadn’t been looking for anything more than someone to relax with between assignments. They had served each other’s purposes quite well while they’d been together.
Maybe tonight was the time for them to reconnect. He had a couple days off, and she looked amenable. Callie would keep him too occupied for a few days to think about…well, anyone else.
“So, aren’t you going over there?” Mike prodded.
“I don’t think so tonight. I’m just back from that mess in Texarkana. I’m thinking about going home and crashing.”
“Oh, man.” His friend studied his face with a frown. “You’re thinking about her, aren’t you? The princess.”
It wasn’t the first time Mike had brought Dani up since Teague had carelessly mentioned her that afternoon at the office. Mike seemed to think Teague was developing a thing for Dani, despite Teague’s assurances that he wasn’t that masochistic.
“I’m just tired,” Teague argued. “Didn’t you just agree that I’m getting older?”
“Not that old. And you haven’t been acting quite right since that day I caught you grinning to yourself about something the princess said.”
“Stop calling her that, okay?”
“You were the one who described her that way,” Mike reminded him. “Hot, but high maintenance, I think you said. Have you changed your mind?”
After a momentary pause, Teague shrugged. “Well no, not exactly. But she’s not so bad, really.”
“Oh, yeah?”
Teague gave his friend a repressive frown. “This isn’t junior high, Ferguson.”
“And yet you’re still standing here mooning over the hot girl. So the difference would be…?”
Teague made a suggestion that would have gotten his mouth washed out with soap, had his stepmother heard it. Mike merely laughed.
“Hey there, sexy. It’s been a while.”
Both men turned in response to the throaty drawl. Callie had strolled to their side of the room, accompanied by a tall, slender brunette who was eyeing Mike in blatant approval. Cleavage prominently displayed, Callie touched Teague’s shoulder with a perfectly manicured hand. “So where have you been?”