“I wondered how long that was going to take.”
She didn’t bother to pretend to misunderstand. “You noticed?”
“Now you’re blushing.”
“I am not.” Shrugging to cover her embarrassment, her voice dropped to a whisper so that Wesson, hopefully, wouldn’t hear her, “I don’t think we need to talk about what happened . . .”
“No, we don’t need to talk about it,” he agreed. Then he grinned an adorable lopsided grin and added, “But I’ll bet we’re both gonna be thinking about it all day long.”
He was staring at her mouth, and so she stared at the floor.
“Let’s go,” he said.
Nodding, she brushed past him. On the way down the stairs, he said, “I want you to stay directly in front of me, and don’t worry, I’ll slow down to keep pace with you.”
She laughed. “You’ll slow down? I don’t think so.”
“I’ve been running almost every morning since I joined the FBI. We agents have to keep in top shape,” he told her.
“Uh-huh,” she agreed. “Then how come you told me you weren’t a runner?”
“No, I didn’t say that. I told you I hated to run.”
“You said it was bad on the knees and that you were going to complain the entire time.”
“It is bad on the knees, and I do plan to complain.”
“And how many miles do you run every morning?”
“About a hundred, give or take.”
She laughed. “Is that right?”
Joe was standing in front of the living room window, looking outside through the crack in the drawn drapes.
“Nick, I think you better have a look at this. We’ve got a situation here. You might want to reconsider running today.”
Laurant beat him to the window. She peeked out and then said,
“It’s all right. It’s just the boys waiting for me. We run together every morning.”
Nick looked over her head and saw seven young men cluttering the sidewalk in front of her house. There were two more jogging in place in the middle of the street.
“Who are they?”
“High school kids,” she answered.
“And they run with you every day? Why the hell didn’t you mention them to me?”
He sounded incredulous and angry. “Don’t get upset. It’s no big deal. I’m sorry I forgot to mention them. The boys are on the track team at Holy Oaks High School . . . well, some of them are,” she explained. “And they don’t really run with me, at least not around the lake. They all peter out by the time I hit the path. Then they wait for me to come back and . . .”
“And what?” he demanded. Before she had a chance to answer, he muttered, “Wesson, are you getting this?”
“I’m hearing you loud and clear,” came the staticky reply.
“And what?” he asked Laurant again. “They wait for you to come back around the lake, and then what?”
“And they jog home with me. That’s all. They want to stay in shape during the summer so that when school starts, they’ll be in top form.”
Nick glanced outside again and noticed another boy running down the street to join his friends.
“Oh, yeah, they’re serious runners all right,” he remarked sarcastically. “Especially the kid eating the donut. He’s definitely headed for the Olympics.”
Joe got a glimpse of himself in the hall mirror. His hair was sticking up every which way. He hadn’t bothered to comb it since he’d gotten out of bed, or rather, since he’d gotten off the sofa, and he self-consciously tried to pat it down as he said, “Uh . . . I don’t believe any of those boys dragged themselves out of bed and came over here to run, Laurant. No, I’m pretty sure running isn’t on their minds.”
“Then what did get them out of their beds this early in the morning?” she asked, exasperated.
Nick answered. “Hormones, Laurant. Raging hormones.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. At this time of day? Boys their age have a whole lot more on their minds besides sex.”
“No, they don’t,” Nick argued.
She looked at Joe who sheepishly nodded. “They really don’t,” he agreed with Nick.
Nick jerked his thumb toward the window. “At that age, I didn’t think about anything else but sex.”
Joe nodded. “I’d have to agree with Nick again,” he said. “It’s all I ever thought about. Mostly I thought about how to get it, and when I finally did get it, then I thought about how to get it again.”
She didn’t know whether to laugh or be angry. The conversation was ludicrous. “You’re saying that every second of every waking hour that’s what you both were thinking about when you were teenagers?”
“Pretty much,” Nick said. “So we know where they’re coming from and what they’re after. Maybe I ought to go outside and have a little talk with them.”
“Don’t you dare.”
Nick came up with a better idea. He’d intimidate them. He pulled his T-shirt up over his gun and tucked the material behind it so that the weapon was clearly visible.
Joe watched him. “That ought to discourage them.”
As Nick was opening the front door for Laurant, he smiled and said, “Maybe I ought to shoot a couple of them.”
Laurant rolled her eyes as she went past him, ignoring his scowl. Waving to her entourage, she jogged across the street and introduced Nick to the boys. She told them that he was her fiancé. The kids all noticed Nick’s gun, of course, but they gave it only a cursory glance before returning their full attention to Laurant’s considerable assets. They didn’t even look at him when Laurant explained that Nick worked for the FBI.
It all came down to spandex versus a loaded weapon, and spandex won.
Nick stayed right behind her as she ran. The boys fell into step around the two of them, taking turns trying to engage Laurant in conversation.
Donut boy was the first to fade. Three others quickly followed. Laurant gradually picked up the pace, her long legs eating up the pavement as she gracefully glided forward. She’d been right about her fan club’s endurance. By the time they reached the entrance to the park, the last two boys were doubled over and panting for breath. Nick heard one of them gag and got an inordinate amount of pleasure from the sound.
Laurant loved this time of day. It was so peaceful and quiet and lovely. For an hour she forced herself to forget about everything and concentrate only on the path. The rain last night had left the leaves damp, but she knew that by noon, they would all be dried out again. A drought had hit Iowa hard, and the weeds and scrub were brown. As she rounded the bend around the blue water lake, the entrance to the nature preserve was on her right. There were a good ten acres of tall brown prairie grass. Like wheat, it swayed in the gentle morning breeze.
She passed the abbot’s cabin and had the feeling that Agent Wesson was watching her, but she couldn’t see him because the blinds were drawn. The dock to the right of the cabin and behind was sitting up high out of the water, another sign of the lack of rain.
Sweat trickled down the back of her neck and between her breasts by the time she’d made a complete circle around the lake. She slowed down, then stopped, doubled over and took long deep breaths. She could hear Nick panting behind her.
Standing there, they were easy targets. He did a quick survey of the dense forest and overgrown brush around them, and moved closer to her. His T-shirt was covered with sweat. With the back of his arm he wiped his forehead. She could catch her breath when they were back home. “Let’s get out of here. Do we walk or run home?”
“We jog.”
The boys were waiting at the park entrance. Grinning like idiots, they once again fell into step around Nick and Laurant.
“Wimps,” Nick muttered as Laurant waved good-bye to the boys and sprinted up the front walk.
Once the door was shut behind them, Nick relaxed. “Damn, it’s humid out there.”
“What did you think of our lake? Isn’t it beautiful?”
> “I saw it yesterday,” he reminded her. “When we went to see Wesson.”
“But isn’t it lovely? It’s a fisherman’s paradise. You can actually see the fish in the clear, rock-bottomed water.”
“Yeah? I didn’t notice.”
She had her hands on her hips and was still panting a bit. “How could you not notice? What were you looking at?”
“All the places the bastard could hide. He could have had you in his sights from the moment we entered the park until the moment we left, and I never would have spotted him. I can’t let you do that run again. You hear me, Wesson? The unsub could have been hiding anywhere. There’s too much territory to cover.”
Her mouth went dry when she tried to speak. “You think he’ll use a gun to . . .”
“He’s an up close and personal kind of guy,” Nick said. “He might try to wing you to slow you down though.”
“There were other agents keeping both of you in their sights all the while you were in the park,” Joe added as Laurant passed him on her way to get some bottled water. He followed her into the kitchen and continued. “You both were safe.”
Laurant returned to the living room, tossed Nick a bottle of Evian, and opened her own. She took a big drink and headed for the stairs.
“I’m going to take a shower.”
“Wait,” Nick said as he went up the stairs ahead of her. He looked in the bathroom to make sure there weren’t any surprises waiting.
He was being overly cautious, and she was thankful for it.
“Okay, go ahead.”
“You could shower in the other bathroom down the hall,” she suggested.
“I’ll wait.”
Nick was sitting on the bed talking on the phone when she came out of the bathroom fifteen minutes later. Her hair was dripping down her back, and she was wearing a short cotton robe that had seen better days. He took one look at her and promptly lost his train of thought. He knew she was naked under that thin material, and he had to force himself to turn away so he could concentrate on his conversation.
“Look, Theo, we’ll talk about this when I get back to Boston. All right?” He hung up the phone and slowly turned his head to get a glimpse of Laurant out of the corner of his eye. He watched her open the dresser drawer and take out two little wisps of lace. Immediately, his mind went to visions of her wearing them.
Get a grip, he told himself. She was off-limits, and he had no business fantasizing about her. What the hell kind of a friend was he to lust after Tommy’s sister?
Berating himself didn’t do any good. He wanted her. Simple as that. There, he finally admitted the obvious. Now what was he going to do about it? Nothing, he decided. Not a damned thing. Even if she weren’t his friend’s sister, he wouldn’t get involved with her. A relationship between the two of them was impossible. It would never work out, and she’d end up hating him. She wanted what she had never had, a family and kids, lots of kids, and he didn’t want any of that. He’d seen too much to ever let himself become that vulnerable. Even though he came from a family of eight, he was still a loner, and that’s the way he liked it.
He never should have kissed her. Bad idea, he decided. He hadn’t been prepared, hadn’t realized how good it was going to be. God, he was arrogant. He actually thought he could remain distant and professional, but when she wrapped her arms around him and he felt her soft lips, thoughts of being professional went flying out the window, and he’d turned into one of those perverted teenagers outside. All he could think about was getting her flat on her back.
Maybe Morganstern was right after all. Maybe Nick was too close and personal for this assignment. His boss had been referring to his friendship with Tommy though. What would Pete think if he knew that his agent was lusting after the friend’s sister? Nick already knew the answer to that question. Pete would have his hide.
The phone rang again. Nick answered it, listened for a minute, and then said, “Yes, Monsignor. I’ll be sure to tell him. Thanks for calling.”
Laurant was standing in the closet doorway, shifting from bare foot to bare foot as she searched through the clothes crammed together on the single, bowed rod.
When Nick hung up, she asked, “Was that Monsignor McKindry?”
“What? Oh, yeah, it was. Tommy left his Daytimer in the kitchen, and Monsignor said he’d mail it to him.”
“Did he mention when Tommy and Noah left?”
“Yes,” he answered. “At the crack of dawn. Laurant, for the love of God, put some clothes on.”
She kept sorting through her clothes as she answered him. “As soon as you give me a little privacy, I’ll be happy to get dressed.”
He could hear the embarrassment in her voice. “Okay, okay,” he said, feeling like an idiot. Heading for her shower, he added, “Don’t leave the bedroom until I’m dressed, and keep the door locked.”
“Joe’s downstairs.”
“Yeah, well, I still want you to wait for me.” His voice didn’t leave room for argument.
She ran after him. He was peeling his T-shirt off as she reached behind him to grab her hair dryer and brush from the counter behind the sink. Her hand accidentally rubbed against the base of his spine, and he reacted as though she’d just burned him with her curling iron. He flinched.
“Sorry,” she stammered.
He sighed as he tossed the T-shirt into the sink. “I made you feel awkward again, didn’t I?”
They were standing toe to toe, facing each other. She clutched the robe to her chest with one hand and gripped the hair dryer and brush with the other hand.
“Is Mr. Wesson listening?” she whispered.
He shook his head. “The pin’s on the dresser with the earpiece.”
“I don’t want it to be awkward, but it’s just that we kissed. I know we were supposed to, but I . . .”
“What?”
Shrugging, she said, “It just made things awkward again. That’s all.”
“We both got . . .”
“What?” she whispered.
“Hot.”
She’d been staring at his toes until he’d said that word. Her eyes flew to his.
“Yes, we did. What do we do about it?”
“Get past it,” he suggested. “I know one way.”
The sparkle in his eyes should have been a warning. “How?” she asked.
“Take a shower with me. That should get you past your shyness.”
She was so shocked by the suggestion she laughed, which was exactly what he wanted her to do. The tension vanished. His grin was comical. “You’ve got that leer down perfectly,” she told him as she turned around and left the bathroom.
Because the mirror was still clouded with steam, and the bathroom was sweltering, Nick told her to leave the door open. She waited until she heard the shower running, then hurried to get dressed and dry her hair. Since they were going shopping for an engagement ring, she decided to dress up a little, and she put on her white pleated slacks and a peach silk blouse. Then she found her white canvas slip-ons in the back of the closet.
Nick made the bed while she brushed her hair. The coverlet was all lopsided when he was finished, but she didn’t criticize his effort.
Nick wore jeans and a white polo shirt. He clipped the leather holster to his belt. Then he pinned the red disc back on, added the earpiece, and shoved his wallet in his back pocket.
“Okay, so what’s the schedule?” he asked after he gave her a quick once-over.
“Some breakfast first because I’m starving, then the grocery store for Joe. After that, I want to check on my store to see if they’ve started on the floors yet. If they haven’t, I’ll work there all afternoon.”
“Then the jewelry store,” he suggested as he slipped on a pair of leather loafers.
“I’ve got to pick up the bridesmaid dress too,” she remembered. “And I should spend an hour or two at the abbey. I’ve got to get started on the attic.”
They spent the morning doing errands. It was all so ordin
ary, tasks that couples did together all the time, but there wasn’t anything ordinary about their situation. She was constantly looking over her shoulder, even when they were in the grocery store getting supplies for Joe. Laurant was stopped by a friend or neighbor on almost every aisle, and each time, she introduced Nick as her fiancé.
He put on quite a show. He was attentive and affectionate, and it was all so natural, she had to remind herself that it was just an act.
She relaxed only when they were inside the car. She felt safe then. Nick drove through McDonald’s to get breakfast and headed home again. He turned on the radio, and they listened to Garth Brooks croon about a love lost and found again.
She was eager for Nick to see her store. She helped him carry the groceries inside, and left them in the hall for Joe to put away. Then they got back in the car again. Since they were going up to the abbey after they purchased an engagement ring, he decided to drive to the square.
He stopped at the fountain so that he could see all the buildings ahead of him. None of them were historical treasures by any means, but the old structures were charming. Most of the facades needed work, but nothing major.
“Do you see what it could be?” she asked.
“Yeah, I do,” he agreed. “Why would anybody want to tear this down?”
“Exactly,” she said enthusiastically. “Years ago, this is where everyone did their shopping and their socializing. I want it to be like that again.”
“Sprucing up the stores won’t be enough,” he said. “There’s got to be something inside to draw the people in.”
“The president of the college is considering moving the bookstore into the corner building on your right. It’s more than big enough, and they’re running out of room on campus. The kids would have to come into the square to get their books.”
“That will help.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “And they can walk. The campus is only a couple of blocks away. Let’s go,” she urged. “I want you to see my store.”
Her enthusiasm made him smile. He parked in the center block, near the jewelry store. He put his arm around her as they walked along the street.
She couldn’t show off her store after all. The first coat of polyurethane had just been applied to the floor. Since the windows were coated, Nick couldn’t even look through to see the lovely marble countertop. He would have to wait at least four days until the second and third coats had been applied and dried.
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