She’d spent too much time and energy trying to improve her reputation and fit in this one-horse town to throw it all away by causing a scene now. Too many of those present were no different than the Cardellos, uppity types who’d always judged her and found her lacking because of her troubled past. Most were only waiting for her to mess up so they could say, “I told you so.”
Jack let go of her arm and held out his hand. “Would you like to dance?” His voice held a challenge, as did that all-knowing smile. “It’ll take their attention off your attempt to spy.”
Lucy felt trapped, with no way out. Her gaze then wandered to the couples on the floor and most of her annoyance died. Old people knew how to dance in each other’s arms. They looked so romantic and graceful out there, flowing to the slow beat. She’d never danced before this job. The fast dances had been easy enough to bluff her way through, but with two left feet, slow dancing was another matter entirely…especially with the man in front of her.
She glanced back at Jack, whose hand remained extended in invitation. Her focus then lifted to his face.
“Well?” His brow quirked higher when their stares connected. “Though you don’t deserve it, I’m giving you another out. I’d take it if I were you.”
Lucy took a deep breath and threw her shoulders back, staring up at Jack through slitted eyes. No way could she ignore his taunt. Grinding her teeth together to keep her smile intact, she held on to every bit of dignity she possessed and nodded curtly. The moment she stepped into his arms, she regretted her decision. She should have just walked away and gone outside. Now she was stuck, at least for the duration of the dance.
How long could it be?
Oh Lord, too long, she thought, noticing heat from the palms of his hands warming her body where they touched, one just above her waist and the other gripping her hand. When his spicy scent rose up, reminding her of their earlier encounter, she tripped on her dress.
“Sorry,” Lucy murmured, feeling blood rush to her face as those hands steadied her. She’d never worn anything this long and silky besides a nightgown in her life. Hell, before yesterday, she’d never even known that Spanx existed.
“Relax and just follow my lead.” Jack’s smooth voice slid over her like satin.
“I don’t follow leads easily.” Lucy hoped he couldn’t hear the rapid beating of her heart, and if so, prayed her confession would camouflage the real cause. This situation was so uncomfortable for her. Jack was used to women who were into this scene, so it could only make her look more pathetic. Like she was trying to be something she wasn’t.
“Why am I not surprised?” He chuckled. “But in this instance, I’d highly recommend it.”
“Oh?” Forgetting all about her discomfort, Lucy spared him a glance. “Is that a threat?”
“Would you like it to be?”
His teasing voice and sappy smile elicited a nervous giggle. She couldn’t help it. He looked so unlike the intimidating man who’d warned her about liars, and now, after everything that had transpired, he had to suspect that she’d lied to him. It must be the reason he asked her to dance. She took another misstep and froze for a split second.
“You’re stiffening up again. Relax.” His hand moved higher, rubbed over her back, skin on skin, and spread warmth in its wake. “If you don’t,” Jack whispered near her ear, “you might get stepped on, and trust me—my big feet on those strappy nothings you’re wearing will hurt.”
A warm fuzziness swept through her system, sending her senses on overload. Lucy averted her gaze and stared at his neck. It was easier, and safer, than looking into his laughing blue eyes, when suddenly she wanted to respond to his flirtatious teasing…more than anything. He’d obviously changed tactics and was now using charm to soften her up so she’d talk.
Lucy wasn’t going to talk, nor was she about to forget the past.
She had never fit in with his crowd growing up and doubted she ever would. More importantly, after years of mental pep talks, she damned well didn’t care.
Relaxing her shoulders, she concentrated on getting through the next few minutes without any more missteps, letting the music flow through her. In turn, dancing started to feel natural.
“That’s better. You move really well when you’re not thinking about it.”
Jack’s voice drew her gaze. The engaging grin he still sported tempted Lucy to pretend…just until the end of the dance…that he really didn’t have an ulterior motive for asking her to dance. That he really did find her interesting, and no longer thought of her as that messed-up kid.
“It is easier than I thought.” Lucy laughed and decided to play along. After all, nothing could happen in such a short time and she was good at pretending. She dropped her eyelids to half-mast, going for coy, and smiled. “But I’m guessing that’s due more to you than me.”
His quick burst of laughter zinged through her insides, and when he pulled her an inch closer, she forgot to breathe and almost stumbled again. Okay, can the flirting. He was definitely more adept at this sort of game than she, and if she persisted in playing, she’d only do something stupid that would highlight her ineptitude.
For the rest of the song, Lucy continued following his lead, but being in his arms and swaying to the romantic beat was the most uncomfortable minute of her life. The second the music ended, she exhaled the breath she’d been holding and stepped back.
“Wait, what’s your hurry? How about another dance?” Jack glanced at her with eyebrows raised, his tone, as well as his expression, daring her.
Lucy’s cell phone started ringing, the song indicating the caller. Relieved for an excuse to get as far away from Jack as possible, she smiled up at him. “Sorry. That’s Gerald Duncan’s ring. Gotta take it.” She shrugged. “I mean, he is the boss.”
She slipped completely out of his hold without tripping, thank God, and headed toward the closest exit. On the way, she opened her bag and reached for her phone. Sensing Jack’s interested gaze watching her retreat, Lucy didn’t dare glance back. Instead, she slipped out the French doors and stood on the wraparound veranda that surrounded the house.
“Maddox,” she said, after punching the On button and bringing the phone to her ear.
“What in the goddamned world have you been doing? Get your ass out of there. You’re off this job as of right now.”
She stiffened. Her jaw dropped, and for a moment she was too stunned to say anything more than an incoherent, “Wha—” before Gerald Duncan cut her off.
“You begged me for this job. I let you work tonight and this is how you repay me?”
Lucy remained silent. Obviously, the GOB network had been busy while she’d enjoyed herself in Jack’s arms, she thought, as a guilty twinge settled between her shoulder blades.
“I warned you, Lucy. Apparently you didn’t listen, so let me make myself perfectly clear. One more screw-up and you can clean out your locker. Understand?”
Anger flared, his ultimatum wiping out a huge chunk of her guilt. She figured her employer would be a tad upset if he ever learned of her recent activities. But she never thought he’d toss her aside so easily. Not when she’d worked her butt off for his company—for five long years—and during that time had put in too many double shifts to count, some even unpaid, on jobs no one else wanted.
“You can’t fire me,” she shot back. “I’m a good investigator. One of your best.”
“No one is irreplaceable, especially you, not when you suddenly become a liability to my business. I expected more from you, girl. I gave you a chance when no one else would, and after giving me your promise to behave tonight, you’ve not only proven me wrong, you’ve fucked me over, as well.”
Lucy should have broken into the judge’s house later and not involved Gerald or his company. She saw that now. “Look, Gerald, I’m sorry.” Her apology hit deaf ears and only brought about more yelling.
She hung up the phone when he severed their connection after reiterating his threat, along with a few more choi
ce swear words. Gerald was creative; Lucy would give him that. The guy could write a book with all the inventive ways he told people to F-off. Not that she didn’t deserve to be yelled at.
But fired? He wouldn’t really fire her. Would he?
Her boss must be totally pissed. Lucy’s shoulders slumped as remorse filled her for letting him down tonight. She hadn’t thought about his position or what her actions might do to his company. Not one damned bit. Just used him and the job to get inside Cardello’s house. Just jumped in and did what she thought was right, no different than how she’d reacted in her past, as thoughtlessly as others had accused her of being all her life.
She stashed her phone in her evening bag and set the bag on the railing in front of her, keeping a protective hand on it. Then staring off into the dark night, she leaned into the intricately carved wood post, recognizing the dominance of the ornately carved features of the house, like many of the other Victorians in the neighborhood that made Oakmont famous. So what if she could recognize details like that? The knowledge hadn’t done a damn bit of good when nothing had really changed in all these years. Lucy saw that so clearly now.
She thought back to the few moments spent in Jack’s arms. He’d made her feel special…like maybe she finally belonged. But after Gerald’s call, she realized what a farce it was to believe she could reach for something so unattainable. No matter how educated she’d become or how hard she’d worked, she’d always be that waif who’d had to fend for herself, skirting the law in order to eat and be warm. She couldn’t undo the past or realign Oakmont’s thinking. People in this small-minded town would always view her as Lucy-goosey, the crazy, mixed-up street kid. She’d always be on the outside looking in with longing.
Tears clouded her vision and she blinked them back. She was a survivor who never cried, and always faced things head-on. Still, a few errant drops seeped out anyway, trickling down the sides of her face. She brushed them away to keep from ruining makeup she seldom wore, as anguish, more agonizing than any physical pain she’d ever endured, stabbed her heart for what would never be. Spilled milk, her grandmother would call it if she were here to hug her, which she wasn’t and hadn’t been since her fatal stroke right before Lucy’s fourteenth birthday when her life had flipped upside down.
She had stoically buried her grandmother without shedding a tear. Even after being left totally alone in the world and becoming a non-person, a ward of the state within six months of Gram’s death, she didn’t cry. If she hadn’t cried for Gram, she damn sure hadn’t wasted a drop of sympathy for her alcoholic father who’d died from liver disease, or for her mother who’d left her in the first place with a man who’d cared more for his liquor than his own daughter.
“Lucy?”
Oh Lord, just what she needed. Mr. Perfect to see her licking her emotional wounds. She wiped her eyes and tried to sniffle without sounding like she was crying her heart out. Thank God the porch wasn’t lit and the surrounding shadows hid the worst of her tears’ effects.
“Yeah.” Lucy turned around and smiled brightly.
“Are you crying?”
“Hell, no.” Though water still blurred her eyes somewhat, she angled her head higher. “Why would you think that?”
Jack shoved a hand into his pocket, and watching her, he mulled over his answer. “No reason.”
“Um, look…” She cleared her throat. “That was Gerald on the phone. Seems I’ve caused a problem and he wants me gone. Will you tell Mike I had to leave?”
She lifted her satin skirt and started toward the steps, wanting only escape. Her strappy sandals tapped a quick staccato beat on the wood. By the time she hit the concrete walkway, her pace had increased to a light jog. Thankfully, she didn’t trip once.
Lucy was more than halfway down the block when Jack’s, “Wait up,” registered.
“You forgot your purse.”
“Oh my God!” she said under her breath, halting in mid-step. How could she have been so careless as to leave it on the ledge? She pivoted and waited for him to catch up with her.
“I’m glad I found it.” Jack held out her evening bag.
“Thank you.” As nonchalantly as possible, she gripped the fabric beading, searching, then exhaled a relieved sigh when she felt the rectangular shape beneath her fingers. Cassie was still missing and Lucy had nearly lost the means to help. Her resolve stiffened. Gerald could go ahead and fire her. No matter how much the thought scared her, she couldn’t stop now. Like Lucy, Cassie had no one else to go looking for her—no one but Lucy to care if she fell off the face of the earth.
“Thanks again. I can’t believe I left it behind.” She spun around and continued walking. As her pace increased, she felt the heat of his gaze on her naked shoulders.
“You’re walking?” Jack hurried up behind her after she tried and failed to put half a block between them.
“Good deduction, Sherlock.” Mike had given her a ride earlier, so Lucy had no choice.
“It’s late. You shouldn’t be out on the streets alone.”
Lucy bit her tongue to keep from laughing outright. Surely Jack wasn’t serious? She’d spent a third of her teen years on the streets…alone. “I’m fine. It’s only a couple of blocks.”
“I’ll escort you.” It wasn’t a question. More like a command and if Lucy hadn’t felt so emotionally drained, she’d have told him to go to hell.
Instead, she shrugged. “Suit yourself. It’s a free country.”
They walked the rest of the way in silence. Thank God he left it at that, didn’t ask questions she wasn’t about to answer or irritate her with idle chitchat.
She stopped right in front of the rental house she shared with her cat. “Thanks for the escort.” Lucy smiled dismissively, retrieved her key from her bag, and turned to head up the walkway. “Good night.”
A warm hand on her bare shoulder told her Jack wasn’t about to be brushed off so easily.
“I’ll see you inside safe and sound.” He held out his hand, palm up, clearly expecting her to hand over the key.
Lucy glared at him. “You really are pushing this overprotective male thing, ya know?”
“What can I say? Blame it on my mother.”
“Your mother?” She wasn’t well acquainted with Mrs. Finnegan—they didn’t run in the same circles—but in Lucy’s book, she was a nice person who’d always treated her with kindness, the complete opposite of her son.
Jack shrugged and threw out another engaging grin. “According to her, it’s my duty as a gentleman to ensure a lady makes it home safely.”
He didn’t consider her a lady and they both knew it, but Lucy let the comment pass. Obviously, he only wanted information. That’s why he was being so gentlemanly right now.
Yet Jack seemed different from the person she remembered. Maybe working in Louisville had changed him. Why had she never noticed how much a smile transformed him into…well, someone nicer than she’d always thought he was?
Lucy forced out a laugh and followed him up the walk, trying not to let that smile affect her. Nothing had changed in the short walk. She still had to find Cassie and the only way to do that was to get rid of him so she could see what was on the thumb drive.
When he opened the door, her cat shot out, staying clear of Jack. But the white ball of fur with a tail straight as an arrow eyed him warily while snaking around Lucy’s feet, rubbing and purring loudly. Then sensing he must be okay, Sadie started working her way between Jack’s legs.
“I’m sorry. She thinks she owns the place and anyone who comes near it.”
Jack handed over the key and bent to pick up the cat. “That’s okay. I happen to love cats.”
“Figures,” she said under her breath, as her opinion of Jack reluctantly climbed another notch. It seemed almost a sacrilege to continue hating a fellow cat lover. And as for Sadie? Lucy swallowed a smile at her cat’s total defection. “How quickly they forget who found them outside and starving.” She had a soft spot for animals left to fe
nd for themselves.
“She was a stray?” Jack held her up, gave her a once-over, then settled her in his arms and began stroking. “You’d never know it to look at her. She’s a beast.”
“Yeah, but try to tell her that now.” Fickle girl. Usually, Sadie couldn’t be bothered with strangers, especially men. Yet she seemed as enamored with Jack as he was with her, eating up his attention like it was her due. “Sadie was part of a litter. The mother died. I’d have kept all four but according to my lease, I can only have one. So I had to find homes for the others.” Lucy might even be jealous, if she was so inclined, to want the same kind of attention from him. Which she wasn’t. “Careful, you’ll end up with a jacket covered with fur.” Nor was she about to offer one of her sticky rollers. That would take too much time.
“Don’t worry about it.” Jack stroked Sadie’s fur and kissed the top of her head before putting her down. “I have two fur balls myself. I carry a brush in my car.”
Lucy nodded. “Good. Looks like you’ll need it.”
Jack chuckled and brushed at the few hairs that had caught on his black jacket, as Sadie scampered back inside, clearly happy with her conquest. Lucky cat.
She shook the thought and refocused on her mission. “Well, tell your mother thanks for the escort. I think I can manage from here.”
“Wait,” he blurted out when Lucy moved to follow Sadie. Jack pulled out a card and pen from his jacket pocket and wrote a number on it. “This is my cell. I’m sure I’m the last person you want to talk to, but if you need anything, call me. Okay?”
Lucy took the card and tapped the side of it with her fingernail as she peered at his face. Why was he being so nice? Noting only earnest concern in his blue eyes, which seemed bluer in the dark…more intense, she nodded. “Thanks.”
Intrigued, she went inside and closed the door. She’d never seen this softer side of him. Of course, their run-ins had always been as adversaries, on different sides of the law. Tonight, Jack actually acted as if he cared about her. Wouldn’t that be something? She leaned against the cool wood, dreamily wondering what it would feel like to have someone like him care for her.
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