Pass Interference

by Desiree Holt

  Chapter 5

  Rafe was back the following day with her phone and not much good news about tracing the caller.

  “It’s a burner,” he told her. “We’re checking the serial number to see where it was sold. Maybe we can find something that way, but I don’t hold out much hope.”

  “Thanks for trying.” When he stood in the doorway, making no move to leave, she asked, “Was there something else?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes.” He looked at her as if he could see right through her, a look that made her shiver. “Your stalker called three times while I had the phone and sent another text.”

  “What?” Nausea rumbled up from deep inside her, and she swallowed hard. “Are you serious?”

  “As a heart attack. I answered them but without saying a word. I hoped we could get a trace, pinpoint a location, while the connection was open.” He shook his head. “No such luck.”

  She stuck the phone in her pocket, doing her best not to let him see how her hand trembled. And it wasn’t just the terror of the situation. Days later, her lips still remembered the feel of that kiss, the heat that sizzled through her, the electricity that snapped in the air. She needed to erase the memory somehow. This man was absolute poison to her, disdainful of her as he was. But oh God, between panic attacks about her stalker, she’d wondered what his body would look like naked and—

  “Tyler.” His voice burst her mind bubble. “Are you okay?”

  “What? Oh, yes. I’m fine.” She gave a slightly hysterical little laugh. “Well, as good as can be under the circumstances. Thank you for trying to get information.”

  “Have you done anything about getting protection the way you said you would?”

  She looked down at her feet. “Yes. I made some calls. It’s being taken care of.”

  “Liar.”

  “I said I’d take care of it,” she reminded him and forced a smile. “And again, you have my word I won’t bother you again.”

  He studied her for so long she wondered what on earth he was thinking.

  “Got your tires all taken care of?” he asked finally.

  Now that was the last thing she’d expected. “I did. First thing this morning. Just waved my plastic and made it happen the way you said.”

  “I apologize for that remark. You had a problem, and I was being a sarcastic idiot. Would it be okay with you if I checked them over?”

  Damn. What was with this nice act? She dealt with him a lot better when they were at odds with each other.

  She shrugged, hoping she looked nonchalant. “They’re just tires, but if you want to, sure.”

  She opened the inside door to the garage and stood there while he walked all around the car, crouching down to check each tire.

  “I got the correct ones, if that’s what you’re looking for,” she told hm.

  “I can see that. Just making sure.” He stood up. “And that’s not a sarcastic remark, by the way. Just habit.”

  Oh. Sure. Nothing special for the waste case Tyler Gillette.

  “Well. Uh, thank you. I guess.”

  When she stood aside for him to move past her into the hallway, he brushed against her and that wonderful Rafe Ortiz leathery scent teased at her. The pulse between her thighs woke up and began to drum the “Anvil Chorus” and her nipples beaded harder than they had the night before. And hadn’t that just been damn embarrassing. How could she have the hots for a man who wouldn’t be seen at the garbage dump with her?

  Rafe Ortiz was not a player. That had been the line on him from day one. He was a solid, substantial citizen, whose private life always flew under the radar.

  “Tyler?”

  She realized he was speaking to her and gave her brain a mental shove.

  “Sorry. My mind must have wandered. Thank you for checking the phone and for bringing it back.”

  “I meant what I said.” The look he gave her was intense, the blue of his irises now darkened to the navy of a storm-tossed sea. “You need to be careful. Stay out of trouble until we find this guy. Because I can promise you he is far from finished.”

  “Thank you for your concern, but it’s all good now.” If he thought so little of her, she’d make sure he didn’t have to waste one second of his precious time on her. “I have my phone, I’ll keep my doors locked, and I’ll be fine.”

  He scowled, opened his mouth as if to say something then just shook his head. “Be careful, Tyler.”

  Then he was gone. She set the alarm, then leaned against the door, wishing her world would stop spinning. She needed to get her life back, such as it was. A life that did not include Rafe Ortiz. She had been incredibly foolish in calling him to begin with. She shouldn’t have panicked when the massive mountain of man, Dewey, had cornered her in the ladies’ room. The bartender would have handled it if she’d just been a little patient. And why had her natural inclination been to call Rafe anyway?

  Because she had such a strong thing for him, it just wouldn’t let go of her. Now she couldn’t get the tantalizing scent of his cologne out of her nostrils or the imprint of his lips from her mouth. Sometimes without realizing it, she actually found herself rubbing her fingertips across her bottom lip.

  He was a man who had matured well. The older he got, the sexier he got. Not that she had that much occasion to interact with him. But there were the obligatory Hawks events she attended. She had always tried to flirt with him a little, but he was not having any of it. Ever.

  If only he wasn’t such a hard-ass where she was concerned. Had she thought reaching out to him the other night would make a difference? Yeah, that had turned out really well.

  Sighing, she pushed away from the door and headed to the kitchen. Coffee. That’s what she needed. And maybe a brain transplant.

  For the next twenty-four hours, she holed up in her town house, having her food delivered, and watching old movies on television. Both Betsy and Lynn were out of town, but they kept texting her to make sure she was okay.

  “Watching old movies,” she finally texted. “All is good.”

  “Make popcorn,” Betsy texted back on their three-way message.

  “Drink wine with it,” Lynn added.

  She hugged the phone to her body, warmed by their friendship and their concern.

  She hadn’t planned to go trolling at night again. Kept reminding herself of the episode with Dewey, of the hang-up calls, the text. The tires, for God’s sake!

  But she hadn’t had any calls since Rafe returned her phone, so she thought it possible the jerk, whoever he was, had gotten tired of his game. Maybe he knew Rafe had tried to trace the calls and decided it wasn’t worth the risk. And she was bored being closeted in the house by herself. She’d hate to let people know it, but she really didn’t like her own company all that much. It was time to put on her usual war paint and uniform and get back into her scene.

  When she took one last look at herself in the mirror, she was tempted just to say the hell with it, scrub her face clean, throw on some old sweats, and crawl into bed. But she was in such a turmoil over everything, and she’d been the Tyler the world knew for so long she was having trouble being anything different. So she’d just take the one she was coming to despise and drag her ass out into the night.

  Dressed and primped, she hauled herself to Mickey’s, another of her favorites on the south side of the city. But two hours on a bar stool later, she found herself wondering what she was doing there. She hadn’t even had a taste of alcohol tonight, shocking both herself and the bartender. Instead she sat there with her third fake martini, wearing her skintight black dress cut down to there in the front and there in the back and giving the automatic come-on to the guy sitting on the bar stool next to her.

  She thought this was how actresses must feel when they had played a part one too many times. She had the costume, she knew the lines, but the audience response just wasn’t doing it for her. When she was younger, it had been more fun to see how many button
s she could push, how much unfavorable publicity could fall on the mighty Kurt Gillette because of his daughter’s outrageous behavior. She’d made an art form out of pushing the envelope. But it seemed the wilder she became, the more he turned away from her. The Hawks were his baby, not her, and he’d made it known that she should have been a son to take over from him.

  She’d been ten when her mother had died suddenly and her life had turned upside down. Her father had dealt with his grief by burying himself in the team operations. But she’d had grief, too. Right? Why had he never seen that? She’d tried desperately to please him all the time she’d been growing up, to show him that she could be as important to him as a son. Nothing worked. He didn’t get angry with her. He didn’t get anything. He ignored her. Sent her away. Gave her money and told her to keep busy. The fact that she had—to his way of thinking—insulted him by being a daughter instead of a son only made things worse. He had even given her a boy’s name. Tyler. Who named their daughter Tyler?

  Her outrageous behavior was the only thing that had ever gotten a response from him. At least she had him tearing his hair out. She supposed that was better than nothing.

  Except she’d only wanted him to love her.

  Grow up, Tyler. Get over yourself. It’s a lost cause.

  Yes, it was. She’d literally destroyed herself and for nothing. Nothing.

  So here she was, in yet another seedy dive, looking to —What? What exactly was she looking for?

  Taking a sip of her drink, she tried to focus on what the guy next to her was saying.

  “So how about it?” Mr. Nobody asked, leaning a little closer.

  Tyler’s nose wrinkled as she inhaled the excess of cheap cologne. Obviously, she needed the alcohol to do this because cold sober she wanted to pick up the nearest heavy object and bash this guy over the head.

  “Hey!” He poked her shoulder with his forefinger. “You’re not smashed already, are you?” Then he gave a gravelly laugh. “Although I don’t know, some broads do it better when they’re drunk. Are you one of them?”

  She could have told him she had no idea, since she hadn’t “done it” for so long she wasn’t sure she could even remember how. But when she did, it certainly wasn’t going to be with the guy next to her. What was she doing here, anyway? Whoever the weirdo was that was calling her and slashing her tires could be watching her. Maybe he wasn’t through with her after all. Maybe he’d followed her from her town house. Was he in this bar even now, watching her, waiting to make his next move? An itchy feeling suddenly crawled up her spine.

  Tyler looked around the very dimly lit bar but no one popped out at her. How would she know it was him, anyway? This was crazy.

  Shit.

  Dumb, Tyler. Very dumb.

  Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea after all. She needed to get out of here. Grabbing her little purse and opening it, she took out a twenty, which she slid beneath her nearly full glass on the bar.

  “I think I’m done for the night,” she told the bartender.

  He winked at her. “Wish I could say the same. Take it easy out there.”

  As she slid off the bar stool, the guy next to her grabbed her upper arm. “Hey! Wait a minute, here. We was just getting started.”

  Tyler was tired and disgruntled and out of sorts, and not in the mood for his crap. Even though she had to admit, his crap was her fault. She just didn’t have the stomach for it tonight, so she took the flesh of his upper arm and pinched it as hard as she could.

  “Ouch! Hey!” He released her arm and rubbed his own. “You just had to say you weren’t interested.”

  “I think she did,” the bartender told him.

  “Yeah?” The guy scowled. “Well, maybe I’m not ready to take no for an answer after all.”

  Tyler eased quickly past him just as he slapped some money down on the bar and hitched himself off the stool. As she headed out the door, she grabbed her keys from her purse, holding them like a weapon between her fingers as someone had taught her a long time ago. Her skinny heels clicked hard on the painted concrete floor as she pushed out into the night and hurried toward her car. The sound of his footfalls behind her made her speed up even more, or as much as she could with her tight skirt and stupid needle heels.

  “Hey, wait!”

  She turned at the sound of his yell, ready to stab him with the keys, when a dark shape materialized from the other size of her car. In a moment, a sizable fist had grabbed the big guy by the front of his shirt and held him in place.

  “I don’t think the lady wants your company tonight.” Rafe’s deep voice bounced the words off the man he was holding. “You’d be best served if you just went right back on into that bar.”

  Tyler couldn’t believe her eyes. What was he doing here? She clutched her purse and her keys as she watched the scene in front of her unfold. She’d known from the way his clothes fit him that he kept himself in shape. There wasn’t an ounce of fat anywhere on that body. In the near dark of the parking area, he was an ominous presence. Apparently, the jerk from Mike’s realized it, too. He just nodded his head, made some kind of nasty remark, and headed back inside.

  “Good riddance.” Rafe said the words as if he were cursing.

  Tyler still stood there as if frozen to the ground. God! The timbre of that voice sent shivers dancing down her spine. It also kicked up her pulse and made her nipples tingle. The sight of him in his dark jeans that outlined muscular legs and a yellow, soft-collar shirt that emphasized his broad shoulders actually made her mouth water. Damn it all anyway. Would she never get control of her hormones where this man was concerned?

  She was just so damn glad to see him that she was ready to throw herself at him and see if she could steal another of those panty-melting kisses. But when he spoke to her all thoughts of sex fled from her mind.

  “Close your mouth,” he told her. “You’re catching flies.”

  She finally found her voice. “What are you doing here?”

  “Making sure trouble isn’t following you.” He glared at her. “It appears it’s a damn good thing I did. I can’t believe with a stalker on your ass you’re out in the same old crummy scene.”

  She was halfway between grateful he was there and pissed off that he was lecturing her. Again. And how on earth had he known where she was?

  “Are you now my appointed guardian?” She knew how bitchy she sounded, but she just didn’t want him following her around and spreading his disapproval everywhere. She never should have called him the other night from Tequila Sunrise. Or when her tires got slashed. She was used to taking care of herself. She’d done it all her life. Her panic was a momentary lapse and she needed to get over it. If she couldn’t entice him into bed, she needed to keep away from him.

  “It sure looks like you need one.”

  “I’m taking care of myself just fine.”

  “Is that so?” He snorted. “Doesn’t look like it to me.”

  Tyler glowered at him. What was that saying? Never let them see you sweat. Well, she wasn’t going to let Rafe High-and-Mighty Ortiz see her sweat. Ever again.

  “Look.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “This is my fault. I never should have called you the other night. I appreciate what you did, but you can go back to your regular life now. You don’t need to chase me around. I can handle things.”

  “Yeah, I can see how well you’re doing that.” He nodded toward her car. “Go on, get in, before someone else tries to join the party.”

  “You don’t give me orders.” She tried to pull up her best defiant posture. “No one does. I take care of myself.”

  He drew his brows together in a scowl. “So you’re not going home?”

  “I am going home.” She unlocked her car door. “But because I want to.”

  “Fine. Whatever. As long as you go.”

  She expected him to just watch her until she drove away, but instead he got in his car and started it up. When she pu
lled out into the street, he was right behind her, and stayed that way all the way back to her town house. She thought about trying to lose him, but he’d probably prove to be a better driver. Besides, why bother? She’d let him see she was safely home, then he could wash his hands of her and go back to—whatever he wanted to go back to.

  As she drove through the streets of the city, Tyler turned on her radio. She hoped music would smooth out the unsettled feeling that had crept up on her, the reason she’d boogied out of the bar. Nothing appealed to her, though, and about the time she finished searching for something, she was pulling into her driveway.

  How had he found her tonight? He hadn’t answered that question. Was he going to be there every time she turned around? Her evil brain whispered, Maybe you can convince him to have some fun. Unfortunately, she didn’t think Rafe wanted to have fun, at least with her. He was practically on her bumper while the garage door opened. When she got out of the car, he climbed out of his and came to stand next to her.

  “Before you say a word,” she said, holding out a hand as if to stop him from coming closer, “I want to know how you knew where I was tonight.”

  “Not important.”

  “So you say. Well, it is to me. Did you follow me to the bar? That’s really creepy, Rafe.”

  “No. I didn’t have to.”

  She glowered at him for a moment. “So how did you know where I was tonight?”

  He grinned. “If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.”

  “Oh, no,” she protested. “Not playing that game. Did you put something on my phone? On my car? I want an answer here. You’d better explain yourself.”

  For a very long moment, he said nothing. Then he heaved a long sigh. “When I checked your tires the other day, I put a GPS locator on your car.”

  Stars exploded in her brain as anger surged through her. “You what? Are you shitting me?”

  He shook his head. “Not a bit. You have a stalker, Tyler. It’s now official, as far as I’m concerned. You go looking for trouble, and it’s easier for me to bail you out when I find you than it is to search the damn city.”