The Man Next Door

by Gina Wilkins

  “You liked my performance?” she couldn’t help asking.

  His eyebrows rose. “Fishing?”

  Her cheeks warmed, just a little. “No, I—”

  “Because I loved your performance, Dani. You have one of the most beautiful and unique voices I’ve ever heard, and I could listen to you sing for hours. I wasn’t the only one in the audience who felt that way. I don’t know why you chose not to pursue a vocal career, but surely you knew it was a viable option. You’re that good.”

  A little more of her resistance to him crumbled. Apparently, she was still a little shallow when it came to her music. But she hadn’t craved his approval, she reminded herself quickly. She’d been just fine when she thought he hadn’t cared for her singing.

  He brushed her cheek again. “Don’t look so serious. You don’t have to make any decisions right now. I just wanted you to think about it. You should be used to men feeling this way about you, so there’s no reason for you to get all freaked out about it.”

  “I’m not freaked out,” she denied immediately, her pride piqued again. “I just haven’t decided what I want to do about it.”

  He nodded. “You let me know when you make up your mind.”

  He turned then toward the staircase. “Get some rest, Dani. We have a long drive ahead tomorrow. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  That was it? She watched in bewilderment as he climbed the stairs without even looking back at her, his limp hardly noticeable now. He wasn’t going to try to charm or seduce her? No practiced lines or masculine pleading? Just a flat-out statement that he wanted her, if she was interested in strictly a “friends-with-benefits” situation. And that nothing needed to change between them if she decided that wasn’t what she wanted.

  While she supposed she appreciated his candor, she wasn’t sure how she felt about what he’d said. She took her time setting the security alarm for the night and turned out the downstairs lights, mentally replaying the highlights of their conversation.

  No strings. No past. No future. Just now. It was exactly what she had sought from the few men she had dated for the past year and a half. Since Kurt.

  But she wouldn’t think about Kurt now. Teague and Kurt were nothing alike, other than both being strong-willed, hardheaded Alpha-male types. But where Kurt had been possessive and controlling, Teague seemed almost the opposite. Kurt had been deceptive, Teague was almost compulsively honest. Teague would be no easier to control than Kurt had been, which gave her reason for concern, but maybe she wouldn’t have to worry so much that Teague would take over her life if she wasn’t careful, as Kurt had tried to do.

  Teague didn’t want to own her. He just wanted her. For now.

  But what if that was only what he said because he’d thought that was what she wanted to hear? She bit her lip as she slowly climbed the stairs. What if he changed once he thought he had her where he wanted her? What if, like Kurt, he had a talent for keeping his real self hidden behind a charming facade?

  Not that Teague had ever tried to charm her, she thought wryly, glancing at his closed bedroom door as she entered the one in which she had been sleeping. Kurt had flattered and romanced her from the beginning, playing directly to the weaknesses and vulnerabilities he had sensed in her. Teague had been blunt, sometimes distant and occasionally even terse.

  Maybe he had sensed that she was more vulnerable to that approach now than to being romanced. Or maybe she was thinking about all of this entirely too much, she thought with an impatient shake of her head.

  She had changed since the debacle with Kurt. She would never allow herself to get into a mess like that again with any man, Teague included. She was in charge of her life these days, and she liked it that way. If she wanted a man’s companionship, she would accept it. She wouldn’t go out of her way to please him, and she wouldn’t go to any special effort to hold on to him. When she wanted it to end, it would end. And if he was the one who left first, that was fine, too. His loss, not hers.

  Nodding in satisfaction at that agenda, she slipped on her favorite dark-green silk nightgown and brushed her hair until it fell in soft waves to her shoulders. She wondered if Teague was asleep yet. He certainly hadn’t lingered after making his wishes known. He’d said it was up to her what happened next. That he would give her plenty of time to make up her mind. He probably wasn’t expecting her to do so tonight.

  Without conscious planning, she opened her door and stepped out into the hallway. Teague’s door was still closed. She stood outside it, frowning at it, one bare foot poised to take her back to her own room, one hand ready to knock on his door if she ever made up her mind to do so.

  The door opened suddenly without her doing a thing or making a sound. Dressed only in dark-blue plaid pajama bottoms, Teague stood in the doorway, searching her face. “Are you coming in, or were you planning to just stand there all night?”

  Her terms, she reminded herself, stiffening her spine. “I was thinking about coming in,” she said, her voice even and steady. “But this is only about now. Tonight. Once we get back to Little Rock, everything will probably go back to the way it was between us.”

  He shrugged, his gaze roaming now, down her body and then slowly back up to her face. She felt almost as if it had been his hands making that leisurely journey of exploration. Heat pooled deep inside her, giving her the impetus to take a step forward even as he said, “If tonight’s all we’ve got, then let’s not waste any more of it just standing here staring at each other.”

  But he was so nice to stare at, with his tanned skin, lightly furred chest, well-defined muscles and flat, firm abdomen. Deciding he would be even better to touch, she reached out to him. “Who’s wasting time now?”

  He pulled her into his arms and covered her mouth with his in a kiss that made her bare toes curl. She knew right then that this night was going to be spectacular, no matter what happened between them afterward.

  Dani woke just before dawn. The very faintest gleam of daylight seeped through the curtains, letting her see Teague lying all tousled and sprawled beside her.

  He lay on his back, his face turned toward her, his lashes dark against his still-faintly bruised cheeks. A stubble of morning beard darkened the lower half of his face, and his lips—those beautifully shaped, oh-so-talented lips—were slightly parted in sleep. The sheet lay low on his belly, baring him to the navel.

  She reached out to lay a hand flat against his chest, feeling his heart beating steadily against her palm. Her own pulse quickened.

  Teague’s eyelids flew upward at her touch, his gaze clear, his voice only slightly husky when he asked, “Again?”

  She smiled and draped herself over him. “Again.”

  His fist clenching in her tumbled hair, he kissed her deeply, then murmured against her lips, “I was right. You are high maintenance.”

  “Is that a complaint?” she asked, undulating against him.

  He arched upward, his voice hoarse now. “No, ma’am.”

  Smiling against his mouth, she laughed, the sound quickly smothered by another thorough, probing kiss.

  They had breakfast with Dani’s mother and grandmother before they set out on their long drive home.

  “Did y’all have fun with Dani’s friends last night?” Grandma Lawrence asked as she buttered a homemade biscuit.

  Teague nodded and sliced into the thick western omelet Gillian had placed in front of him. “Yes, we had a very nice time.”

  “They’re all kind of flaky. Dani always did hang out with the party crowd.”

  “They’re my friends, Grandma,” Dani complained, though without any real heat in her voice. She seemed to be arguing more out of habit than offense. “They’re perfectly decent people.”

  “Didn’t say they weren’t,” her grandmother retorted. “Just said they’re flakes.”

  “Mother,” Gillian said repressively. “Don’t start anything on their last morning here. Let’s just have a nice breakfast.”

  “I’m trying to have
a nice breakfast,” the older woman replied indignantly. “Just making conversation with Teague, that’s all. Trying to find out if he’s had a good time.”

  “I’ve had a great time,” Teague answered without looking at Dani. “The best Thanksgiving I’ve had in years.”

  That made both Gillian and her mother beam at him as though they took full credit for his good mood, which almost made him laugh.

  “I’m so glad,” Gillian said. “We’ve enjoyed having you here with us. It’s just a shame not to have any family during the holidays. What will you do for Christmas?”

  “Mother.” This time it was Dani who muttered the warning.

  “If I’m not working, I’ll probably fly to Florida to see my stepmother,” Teague answered easily. “I try to see her a couple of times a year, but it’s hard to plan even that far ahead when I don’t know what’s going to crop up next on the job.”

  “I can imagine.” Clucking her tongue, Gillian shook her head. “Have you thought about a more stable career, dear?”

  “Teague, if you’ve finished your breakfast, we really should get on the road,” Dani said abruptly, reaching for his almost-empty plate. “We have a long drive ahead.”

  Looking startled, her mother protested, “There’s no need to rush him out the door, Dani. Maybe he would like another cup of coffee or another biscuit.”

  “I told you we could only stay for a little while,” Dani reminded her, rising.

  Playing along, Teague spared only one regretful glance at the remaining homemade flaky biscuits before pushing himself away from the table. “We really should be on our way,” he said, earning himself a quick, grateful glance from Dani. “You know how dangerous it is to drive too tired.”

  He had—rather masterfully, in his own opinion—chosen the one argument they couldn’t counter. Neither Gillian nor Grandma Lawrence would argue that Dani and Teague should linger at the risk of their very lives.

  Fifteen minutes later, after a few last goodbyes and random bits of maternal advice, Dani was again behind the wheel, Teague once again in the passenger seat. Dani turned on a modern rock radio station and cranked up the volume, precluding immediate conversation. Figuring she needed to unwind a bit, not to mention that she had been visibly on edge since they’d left her sister’s house that morning, Teague sat back in his seat and waited until she was ready to talk.

  She drove to a service station just at the entrance to the freeway, some ten minutes from her mother’s house. “I need to fill up,” she said, the first words she had spoken since starting the car.

  “Let me do it,” he said, reaching for his door handle. “I’ll get this tank.”

  “No, you paid last time,” she argued, shaking her head firmly, her own door already open. “I’ve got this one.”

  “Look, you and your family have put me up, fed me, entertained me. The least I can do is buy gas.”

  “I’ve got it, Teague,” Dani said, an edge to her voice that warned him not to push her. “Just wait here, okay?”

  Thinking that he would fill her tank next time if it meant tying her to the steering wheel while he did so, he frowned and sat back in his seat.

  He was looking out the passenger window when he heard a man’s voice on the other side of the car call out Dani’s name. He glanced idly around, wondering if it was someone he had met. He didn’t recognize the dark-haired, broad-shouldered, bodybuilder type approaching the vehicle, but something about the way Dani stiffened got his attention.

  “I didn’t know you were in town,” the guy said, apparently not aware of how clearly his voice carried into her SUV. “Who’s the guy?”

  Dani’s reply was softer but still audible to Teague. “That’s none of your business, Kurt. And I’m really not interested in chatting with you, so why don’t you get lost.”

  Teague had seen Dani be cool, discouraging, even rude occasionally, but he’d never heard this much unadulterated hostility in her voice. He unsnapped his seat belt.

  “C’mon, Dani, you aren’t afraid to talk to me, are you?” Kurt asked silkily.

  “I’m not afraid. Just annoyed. I told you I never wanted to see you again, and I meant that literally.”

  Kurt leaned an elbow on the hood of her SUV and chuckled with a patronizing indulgence that made Teague reach for his door handle. “Now, honey, we both knew you didn’t mean it then, and you don’t now. We had a great thing until that little spat.”

  “Little spat? You son of a bitch, you gave me a black eye.”

  Teague opened his door.

  Chapter Ten

  Kurt winced ruefully in response to Dani’s furious accusation. “I know, baby, and I apologized over and over. I was frustrated, you were so mad you were out of control and everything just got out of hand. I would never let anything like that happen again. And, anyway, Deb and I are officially divorced, so she’s no threat to you now.”

  Shoving the gas nozzle back into its holder, she turned to twist the gas cap back onto her car. She was already angry that he’d had the nerve to approach her as if nothing had ever happened between them, but that “you were out of control” comment made her blood boil. It had taken her too long to convince herself that being struck by him had not been her own fault. She wouldn’t let him start blaming her again now. “This conversation is over, Kurt. I’m leaving.”

  He smiled. “Back to Arkansas? I heard that was where you ran to after we broke up. I understood why you did it—and I got the message, loud and clear, which is why I finally left Deb. I knew you’d be back when you cooled down. I heard you sang at the club last night. I was sorry I missed it. You probably thought I would be there.”

  He lowered his voice enticingly. “So what do you say you and I go have a drink somewhere and talk? We’ll remember all the good times, think about what we could have again…”

  Dani shook her head in utter disbelief. “You are absolutely the most delusional, self-absorbed, arrogant man I’ve ever had the misfortune of knowing. Get away from my car, Kurt, or risk having your feet flattened by my tires when I drive away.”

  Kurt took a step closer to her. “Dani. Sugar—”

  Teague was between her and Kurt before either of them even knew he’d gotten out of her car. “You heard her, Kurt. This conversation is over.”

  Mortified by the possibility that Teague had overheard any of this conversation, Dani grabbed his arm. “I’m handling it, Teague. Let’s just go, okay?”

  He moved his arm, very subtly, but somehow dislodged her hand. Balancing on both feet, he studied Kurt with the air of barely suppressed danger that Dani had sensed in him from the beginning but never really seen this close up.

  Kurt had never been known as a particularly intuitive type. All he saw was that Teague was slightly shorter than himself, and several pounds lighter. Not as obviously muscle-bound. He straightened away from the SUV and crossed his arms over his chest, making sure his biceps bulged. “This is a private conversation.”

  “Great,” Dani muttered. “Let’s just turn this whole debacle into one big cliché. Get in the car, Teague.”

  Maybe he would have if Kurt hadn’t moved into his path.

  “You’re going to want to move now,” Teague advised quietly.

  Kurt smiled, and Dani realized in chagrin that he was just spoiling for a fight. That was something she hadn’t learned about him until it was almost too late: his practiced charm hid a streak of violence that he usually kept well under control but that occasionally got away from him.

  “Looks to me,” he said, “like you lost the last fight you got into.”

  Teague laughed softly, the sound more threatening than a growl, as far as Dani was concerned. “Yes, well, there were four of them. And I didn’t lose.”

  “I’m getting in the car,” Dani said, reaching for the door handle, her stomach turning at the mental picture of Teague in a fight with four gang members. “And then I’m driving away, with or without you, Teague.”

  Reaching around Teague, Kur
t caught her arm. “Honey, wait. We need to talk.”

  Dani tried to pull away, but his fingers dug into her skin. “Let me go.”

  Teague moved so fast. So silently. Like a…like a snake striking, she thought, numbly falling back on clichés. Kurt was spun around, shoved against the hood of her SUV and had his arm twisted behind him before he could make a single move to defend himself. The few bystanders around gasped and froze as if wondering whether to get involved or call for the authorities.

  “Teague!”

  Teague leaned over to say something into Kurt’s ear, so softly that Dani couldn’t hear him. But Kurt obviously heard. He stopped his struggling and blustering, going very still. When Teague released him, Kurt gave Dani one seething look, then turned without another word and stalked toward his car.

  “Want me to drive for a while?” Teague asked as if nothing at all had happened.

  “No,” she growled, jerking her door open. “I do not want you to drive. Just get in the damned car.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  They had driven nearly thirty miles before Dani spoke again. “I could have handled him.”

  “I know.”

  “Regardless of what has happened between us, I don’t need you, or anyone else, fighting my battles for me. I take care of myself.”

  “I know.”

  “My family still treats me like I can barely walk and chew gum at the same time. I spent the whole visit trying to convince them all that I’ve changed. That I’ve got my life under control.”

  “Yes, I realized that.”

  She shot him one quick, suspicious look. He sat comfortably in his seat, looking as innocent as a schoolboy, meekly agreeing with everything she said. “Next time I tell you to back off and let me handle my own problems, I expect you to do it.”

  “Mmm.”

  That wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear. “I mean it, Teague. If you and I are going to remain friends, you’re going to have to respect my wishes.”