Yours for the Night

by Samantha Hunter

  “We have to help him—he’s in real trouble,” she said, just when something made a noise in the alley behind them, and Tiffany saw a shadow move.

  “There’s nothing we can do now, not without blowing—”

  Suddenly, out of the dark, a man rushed at them, swinging something. Unable to stop herself, Tiffany shrieked, ducking as something swished by her ear, and she tried to see who was coming at them, and hoped it wasn’t more than one.

  No such luck. Someone grabbed her arm painfully, and she yelped, but Garrett was clearly busy taking care of the first assailant.

  Hard to make out who was who, all she heard were grunt and groans, the sounds of fists hitting bodies.

  Her own captor was dragging her back, and she managed to fumble in her bag, grabbing her gun.

  “Let me go or I’ll shoot,” she said, only to be met with a grunt as she lost her shoe.

  Aiming upward, she closed her eyes and pulled the trigger, the blast firing and echoing in the alley. Everything seemed to take movement—her captor, shouting in surprise, dropped her on the spot. She landed hard on the damp alley floor. Some voices somewhere shouted, and other indiscernible noises surrounded her. God, where was Garrett?

  Getting to her feet, she walked gingerly, taking a mini-flashlight that was supposed to have the power of a full Maglite from her purse, holding it in one hand, her gun still in the other. The small flashlight lived up to its promise, illuminating the alley at least ten feet in front of her, and she located her shoe, thankfully. When someone grabbed her arm, she shrieked again, and a hand went over her mouth.

  “Shhh, it’s just me, Garrett. Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said, and she whimpered in relief that it was him, and that he was safe. Making their way out to the street behind them, they waved down a rare taxi and slid in the back.

  “Oh, my God, I was petrified,” she said, settling in as she looked at him in the low light of the taxi, giving the driver directions back to her house. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine, but you scared the life out of me when I heard the gunshot,” he said.

  He was dirty, his face bruised, probably from where she had hit him, but he’d obviously had more of a scuffle with their assailants, now bearing a torn shirt and a bloody cut near his brow.

  She lifted her hands to touch it. “You’re hurt,” she said.

  He touched the spot, seeming mildly surprised. “Didn’t even feel it.”

  She couldn’t stop staring at him. He was so damned sexy, even now, covered in alley dirt, bruises and blood. Maybe even more so. He was raw male, his eyes still dark with aggression from the fight.

  “You should come up, let me clean that up for you,” she said, surprised at the sexiness of her own voice.

  “I probably should,” he agreed. “Then what?”

  She smiled, leaning in to kiss him. “Then we have to make pies.”

  * * *

  TIFFANY HAD HAD some strange days in her life, but the last twenty-four hours topped them. She’d chased down Freddie, had the skirmish in the alley and then baked pies with Garrett until the wee hours of the morning. The range of activities left them both exhausted—and bruised. Garrett’s rough-and-tumble look, including the cut by his brow and the bruise where she’d hit him, just made him even sexier.

  Maybe he was tired, too, or something had gotten to him, because he’d been more distant, quieter, since they returned from The Dice. Maybe she was just imagining it, as she was awfully worn out herself. She didn’t know him well enough to know his moods, really, regardless of how intimate they’d been. They’d known each other less than a week, and since they had crawled out of bed that morning, he felt more distant than ever.

  Waking up late, she didn’t have too much time to think about it, getting dressed to go to her parents’ house. She spotted numerous bruises of her own, probably from the alley.

  It was going to be hard to explain all that without either telling a complete lie or the whole truth. By the time they arrived there, she’d made up her mind.

  “Listen,” she said, placing a hand on Garrett’s arm before they walked in. “I think I have to tell my family that I’m doing this private investigation thing. You were right. And I don’t want to lie to them anymore, which will be really difficult considering we look like we just got into a brawl,” she said.

  Garrett nodded, but she read the apprehension in his face. “You know, this sounds like it’s a family discussion, and a family event. Maybe you should drop me back at the hotel,” he said, but she cut him off.

  “I will, if you want, but I’d love the moral support, and basically, my mother will kill me if you don’t show up,” she said with a smile. “And, I think they have already spotted us from the window. Honestly, the bruises are going to be tough to explain otherwise,” she said, not wanting him to think she was trying to involve him in her family issues.

  “Makes sense, and good for you for deciding to tell them,” he said, smiling and giving her hand a squeeze. It meant a lot, as she was beginning to wonder why he had been so aloof all morning.

  Tiffany braced herself as they walked into her parents’ house carrying the pies that they had made together. It turned out Garrett was no stranger to the kitchen, and they had had a lot of fun, tired as they were.

  “You made it!” her mother declared happily as they entered the living room to the sound of the TV blaring the Macy’s Parade, the aroma of turkey and other delicious items wafting in from the kitchen.

  Then her mom stopped short, and her father’s greeting was cut off, too, as they both took in the bruise on her arm as she handed over the pies.

  “What happened?” her sister Ruby asked, crossing the room and getting right to the point. “Are you okay?”

  Ruby eyed Garrett accusingly, and Tiffany frowned.

  “Ruby, back off, this isn’t Garrett’s fault.”

  “That had better not be the case,” her father said, clearly outraged as he studied her face and then pulled her in for a hard hug. “No one hurts my baby.”

  “Please, stop. As you can see, Garrett took the worst of it, and part of that was completely my fault,” she said.

  “Especially this bruise right here,” he said with a smile, touching his lip where she had smacked him, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

  “Anyway, if you want to sit, I can tell you all what happened,” she said, and looked at her family, who were all looking back at her. “Now’s as good a time as ever,” she said.

  “What do you mean?” her mother asked.

  Her family members were clearly apprehensive, but Tiffany sat on the sofa and accepted the soda someone handed her.

  “I’ve made a career decision,” she said.

  “Another one?” Jewel asked, but with a smile that took the sting out.

  “I’ve been working on another career track while I was at the store…something I wasn’t sure about, so I didn’t want to tell you until I knew it was going to be the thing for me, but I really think it is.”

  “Just spit it out already,” Ruby said.

  “I’ve been training to be a private investigator. I’ve only had a few cases, but I really love it, and I think I could be good at it. I’ve been checking into the jewelry store robberies, and, well, we had a bit of a scuffle down in the Tenderloin last night, hence the bumps and bruises,” she said.

  Her mother turned a little pale, in contrast to her father’s face going red as he looked at Garrett in disbelief.

  “What kind of bodyguard are you? Letting her go down there after dark?”

  Tiffany bit back a groan. “Dad, please. First of all, Garrett didn’t even know I went. I found a lead, and I went on my own. He tracked me down there, to help. We had some trouble, but it was okay. I can handle myself. That’s one of the things I’m learning,” she said.

  She held her breath, letting it sink in. Her family was silent, staring at her in blank surprise. Still, Tiffany was bolstered by Garrett’s hand enclosing hers ti
ghtly.

  “I know you all don’t know me from Adam, but I work with a lot of P.I.s. Tiffany is new to this, but I think she’ll be very good at it,” Garrett added, much to her appreciation.

  “This just takes the cake,” her brother Nick said. “Getting lost in Yosemite was one thing, and then the deal with Brice, but now you’ve been hurt and you’re getting in fights downtown at night? You are not serious about this?”

  “Very,” Tiffany said, holding her brother’s gaze. “It’s not a lark. I got my license, and I’ve been training in self-defense, marksmanship and working basic cases. I came up with real clues that have helped the police work the robbery, and I might have some more.”

  “But, honey…this is all so…unsavory. For a woman. Isn’t this a man’s profession?” her father asked, drawing a marked glare from her mother.

  “Three of the P.I.s we work with in Philadelphia are women,” Garrett broke in again. “Women make logical connections that men often don’t, and they are also often better at getting people to talk to them. They’re also really good shots.”

  “You have a gun?” her mother asked, shocked.

  “It’s not your sister who’s putting herself in front of bullets or being assaulted,” Nick said before she could respond to her mother, glaring at Garrett.

  “Actually, Garrett and his brothers spend their time in dangerous situations all the time. They’re bodyguards, so shows how much you know, Nick. Anyway, this isn’t up for a vote. I like it. I think I could be good at it. It’s what I really, really want to do, and I was hoping you would be supportive of that,” she said, almost pleading. “I’ll be stopping my work at the store to do this full-time, once we’re past the holidays. I know you need the extra help there right now.”

  Tiffany didn’t often rock the boat with her family, but it was as good of a compromise as she could offer. This time, she had to make them see that being a P.I. was her calling. She felt it in her bones, and as she told them, all doubt faded away. It was another step in her taking-

  the-bull-by-the-horns lifestyle.

  “Honey, we’re all just worried. This is very new, and you were hurt, and you are talking about dealing with some dangerous people,” her mother said, breeching the gap. “It doesn’t mean we don’t want to support you, but we also don’t want anything happening to you.”

  “Bad things happen to people every day, Mom. We never know what’s going to take place on any given day. Maybe, if I learn to do this job well, I can help a few less bad things happen in the world, you know? And learning to protect myself is part of the bargain. I won’t always have my own personal bodyguard,” she said with a grin, but as she realized the truth of her words, it stung a little.

  “But can’t you…look into cases on the side, and still work at the store, where things are more stable?” her mom asked.

  “I know it’s a risk, but I need to do it. I need to put one hundred percent of my time into this if I want to be good at it and really make a go of it. I can’t do it part-time. In fact, if I had been training more regularly, I might not have had such a struggle in that alley last night.”

  “Alley?” Ruby said, her tone rising several notes.

  “Um, yeah. But, anyway. That’s most of it. I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure, and I am. I have to do this.”

  They all continued to stare, making her wonder if she was talking gibberish. Even Garrett was looking at her, his brow furrowed in concentration, as if trying to absorb what she’d said.

  “I think it’s wonderful,” her younger sister Jewel finally spoke up, coming forward with a hug. “I can’t wait to tell my friends that my big sister is a private investigator.”

  Tiffany laughed. “Thanks.”

  “Okay, for today, it’s a holiday,” her mother said, clearly wanting to set this aside for later, and Tiffany was fine with that, having said her piece. “Dinner will be ready at four, and until then, there is a lunch buffet in the kitchen, a boccie game in progress in the backyard and the parade running, so let’s just enjoy Thanksgiving,” she said. “And be thankful that Tiffany is safe, and that she’s found a career she’s obviously excited about.”

  Tiffany felt her eyes sting slightly at her mother’s approval.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Everyone seemed more than willing to return to the normal holiday groove, and Tiffany collapsed back into the sofa. She was glad to have revealed her secret, but wondering how it would all pan out.

  “You okay?” Garrett asked.

  “Yeah. I guess. Though the pressure is on now, isn’t it? If I fail at this—”

  “You won’t,” he said, slanting a slight smile in her direction, but he didn’t touch her again.

  She hated that.

  “It was brave to tell them all, and the right thing to do,” he added.

  “Thanks. And thanks for backing me up.”

  “I only spoke the truth. So what now?”

  “I beat you in boccie and then we eat way too much?” she suggested.

  “Sounds like a plan,” he said.

  Tiffany was still picking up a strange vibe from Garrett, and noticed that while they joined her family in fun and games out in the yard, and he sat next to her at dinner, he barely touched her, and when he did, only in the most casual of ways. She planned to ask him about it later, when they were in private.

  Maybe he was just being discreet around her family, but they were an affectionate bunch, and after they had caught them making out in the jewelry store, Tiffany figured they knew the score.

  It was something else, but she didn’t want to pry. As they enjoyed the day, and stuffed themselves with her mother’s amazing food, she let it be.

  For now.

  11

  GARRET HAD THOROUGHLY enjoyed the day; Tiffany’s family was wonderful, but by the end of it, he needed some time alone.

  He needed to think and to sort out what he was feeling. When he asked Tiffany to drop him back at his hotel—bag of Thanksgiving leftovers that her mother had packed for him, and all—he should have explained to her why. She’d asked him if anything was wrong, but he wasn’t even sure what to say, so instead he just kissed her and tried not to let his body’s demands take over. He couldn’t get enough of her, and that was part of the problem.

  Moreover, shortly before waking up that morning, Tiffany curled sweetly into his side, and it occurred to him it was the first time in six years he hadn’t set aside the day Lainey died. He usually spent it alone, remembering their time together. In fact, he hadn’t thought of her at all in the past few days with Tiffany.

  He’d spent the morning of the anniversary of his late wife’s death with Tiffany at the shore, and then going home to make love to her.

  Always the anniversary of her death had been a day that marked the years passing more for him than any other holiday or anniversary, but this year, his mind had been elsewhere.

  All of his focus had been on Tiffany, who smiled at him even as her eyes were full of questions—and maybe a little hurt—as she parked in front of the hotel.

  Tiffany, whom he had known less than a full week.

  Who made love like a goddess, and who had a decent left cross.

  Who had been bruised in a scuffle in an alley less than twenty-four hours before. What if he hadn’t been there? What if both men had come at her?

  The thought froze him to the marrow.

  “Whatcha thinkin’ about?” she asked as he hesitated before getting out of the car. He swallowed hard, looking at her, emotions a tangle inside.

  “You.”

  She smiled. “Oh. Want me to park the car and come up?”

  Garrett wanted nothing more, but…

  How could he fall this hard for someone he’d known less than a week, and for someone with whom he had no future unless he uprooted his life, or she uprooted hers? Someone who was going to be putting her life in danger on a regular basis?

  And maybe that was the root of it—could he be with her and not f
ear every single moment going through what he’d been through with Lainey?

  It wasn’t a decision that he could make based on a short-term affair.

  “I was just thinking about how well your family took the news. And how things could have gone much, much worse.”

  She nodded slowly. “Guess I’d better get on those self-defense lessons,” she said with a smile.

  He didn’t respond. What he wanted to tell her was to find a different profession. Something safe, where she didn’t need weapons or self-defense, or end up in alleys or pool halls in shady sides of town.

  He wanted to at least explore the option of having more with Tiffany, but he couldn’t do that, not if she was putting herself in danger every day.

  He couldn’t lose her like he’d lost Lainey. He couldn’t go through that again. It wasn’t fair, and it didn’t qualify him as an enlightened male, but the fear in his gut dictated his common sense. He wouldn’t always be there to protect her.

  “What’s this about? What’s going on? Is this just because you’re worried about what happened last night?” she pushed, clued into his mood.

  “No.... Yes, in part. I remembered this morning, that this was the first time I’d forgotten. About my late wife, the anniversary of her death.”

  Garrett was unable to get a fix on his feelings or thoughts. He didn’t know how to deal with this. He’d always lived his life in a straight line. College, work, marriage, starting the business. Losing Lainey had thrown him a curve, but he’d thought that he had gotten back on his feet.

  Tiffany had him thinking in circles.

  “Oh. Oh, my God,” she said on a hushed tone. “I’m so sorry. But that has to be a natural thing, a progression. You shouldn’t feel guilty—”

  “I don’t feel guilty, which is part of the problem,” he said, trying to express what was going on inside, and doing a poor job of it.

  “Then what is it?”

  “I don’t know. Just…” He shook his head, unable to find words to express it all.

  She put a hand on his arm. “I get it. You lost your wife this week, six years ago. You feel responsible for that, in part, not being able to save her, and you’re transferring those feelings to me, after what happened in the alley last night,” she said, carefully measuring her words. “But I’m not her.”