Stalking Earth for epub

by Bonnie Vane

  Realizing he wasn’t going to get rid of Tanya easily, Blaine acquiesced and let her pick a movie that he could halfway tolerate. She snuggled up to him on the couch and reached for his hand.

  Nothing. He felt nothing. Not one tiny little spark. Nothing like what he’d felt when his hand brushed Maxie’s. He was just tired, right? She’d simply come at a bad time when he was in a bad mood. He promised himself he’d find a way to make it up to her over the weekend. The thought made him shiver. Why did he feel like he was cheating on a woman he wasn’t even dating with the woman he was?

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Another morning, another ride to the library with Blaine. This was the fourth day of their forced co-existence, and Maxie was finding Blaine was a huge help. She was getting very used to having him around. Maybe too used to having him around. She didn’t want to trade a set of physical crutches for emotional ones.

  But she had to admit, he constantly surprised her. Like the time Allison was reading to a group of kids while Maxie was working on order with a distributor over the phone. When Allison had to pop up suddenly to smooth over a dispute at the checkout counter, Blaine had stepped in to continue reading to the kids. He was very good at it, and the kids hung on his every word.

  A little nagging voice at the back of her head kept trying to tell her the other shoe—or cast—was going to drop, but she pushed the voice away. Things were going well at the library, she was enjoying having Blaine around, and her foot didn’t hurt any more. That’s why she should have seen trouble coming but didn’t.

  The first clue was the booming voice of her father wafting its way from the front desk back to her office. Her heart sank because she knew what was coming. She had the brief notion she should shove Blaine out the back door, but it was too late. Her father strode into the office and plonked down a huge vase of flowers on her desk.

  “Hoped you might enjoy these. Maybe cheer you up. Can’t be easy hobbling around this library on that cast of yours.”

  Maxie tried to keep her father’s attention focused on her and her alone, but it didn’t take long for him to notice her companion. “Who’s this? New clerk?”

  Why hadn’t she told her father about Blaine and their little arrangement? She really should have. But every time she tried to, she’d chickened out. For the first time since she was a little girl, she contemplated lying to him. The lie “Yes, it’s a new clerk,” got hung up on her lips until she finally said, “This is Blaine, Dad.”

  Her father stared at her, then stared at Blaine. “It couldn’t be Blaine as in Blaine Tannahill because I know you have better sense than that. Consorting with the enemy and all. So who is this guy really?”

  Blaine must have felt sorry for her because he replied instead, “The name is Blaine Tannahill, sir. I’m helping out your daughter for a couple of weeks while she’s in her cast. It was arranged through the police and the traffic court.”

  Her father’s clenched jaw and narrowed eyes spoke volumes. Maxie steeled herself, waiting for his diatribe, and it wasn’t long coming. “Maxie Marie Cottrill. Are you honestly telling me that the police arranged this little charade and you agreed to it?”

  Maxie swallowed hard. “Yes and yes. Blaine was given the option of paying a fine and working with me instead. And he’s been an amazing help.”

  “Oh, I’ll just bet he has. Anything to forestall a lawsuit and negative publicity for the almighty Tannahills, eh? Well, damn the Tannahills and their money, I will still sue, you hear me, Mr. Blaine Tannahill? Sue you for everything you’re worth.”

  “Dad, I—”

  “And after suing the Tannahills, then I’ll head straight to the next legislative session and see about decreasing the budget for the county law enforcement. Obviously, they’re in bed with the Tannahills and maybe have some sort of little arrangement to protect them and keep them out of jail. Well, it won’t work with me. I’ll see to it.”

  Maxie wished a sinkhole would open up under her desk. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire, and she knew her face must be as red as the traffic light Blaine had run. Talk about being mortified. But no, not just mortified. She was angry.

  Why in hell was he acting like this? Dreams of a big payout from the Tannahills? It wasn’t like they needed the money. Jealousy, perhaps? That didn’t seem likely, because her father had relatively simple tastes and would probably be lost in a big mansion.

  Then she felt her anger deflate as she remembered her mother. Neither Maxie nor her father had really ever gotten over her death after being hit by that drunk driver. Was that why he was so upset? Maybe Maxie’s traffic accident had hit a little too close to home. And his hitting out at the Tannahills was some sort of misplaced revenge for the hit-and-run driver who was never charged in the death of Maxie’s Mom.

  Well, Maxie wasn’t a therapist, and this was no place for a trial. She grabbed her crutches and arose from her desk. “Dad, thank you for the beautiful flowers.” She headed for the door and motioned for him to follow. He hesitated, then with one giant glare back in Blaine’s direction, he and Maxie made their way to the front of the library.

  “I appreciate you coming, Dad, but I don’t want to discuss this subject anymore. Especially not here. I’ll call you later.” Later, as in maybe in a few days, but she wasn’t telling him that.

  He planted a kiss on her cheek. “I’m just looking out for your best interests, Munchkin.”

  “I know, Dad.” She watched to make sure he left the building, then hobbled her way back toward the front desk. She wasn’t sure what made her turn around for a peek, but she wished she hadn’t. Her father was still outside, but he wasn’t alone. He was chatting with another man Maxie hadn’t seen in months and was hoping she wouldn’t see anytime soon.

  The man finished up his conversation with her father, then charged inside and stopped when he saw her. “Maxie, it’s good to see you. Although I will say the cast isn’t your best fashion accessory.”

  Maxie gritted her teeth. “Hello, Sidney. What brings you here today?” Had he and her father set this whole thing up? Some sort of collusion to get back in her good graces?

  “Just came by to pick up some DVDs.” He moved closer to her, so close she could feel his breath on her face. She knew that look in his eyes. The same one he used whenever he was fudging the truth. The DVDs were an excuse to talk to her. Great. Just great.

  A voice at her elbow startled her until she recognized it was Blaine’s. He insinuated himself between her and Sidney. “There isn’t a problem here, is there, Maxie?” he asked.

  Sidney sized up the other man with a frown. “This a new clerk of yours, Maxie? Little old to be a college student. But I guess minimum wage is enough for guys who don’t have any ambitions.”

  “This is Blaine Tannahill, Sidney. Blaine, this is Sidney Orum. An old ... friend of mine.”

  Sidney asked, “Tannahill? As in the Tannahills?”

  Maxie sighed. “Yes, Sidney. He’s volunteering here at the library.” She looked at Blaine, her eyes pleading for him not to correct her terminology. After all, technically, he was volunteering. He’d chosen helping her over traffic school, right?

  “Volunteering? Guess when you have more money than you know what to do with, you get easily bored. But volunteering at a library is the last place I’d think of.”

  When Maxie cleared her throat loudly and glared at him, Sidney added, “But it’s a great calling as a career.”

  He put a hand on her shoulder. “Is there some place where we could chat for a few minutes?” He glanced at Blaine. “Alone?”

  Maxie sighed and nodded toward the glassed-in “quiet room” at one end of the library where people often studied. Blaine took a few steps like he wanted to come along, but stopped. When she and Sidney were inside the room with the door closed, Maxie propped herself on the edge of a table. No need to sit down, as she wasn’t about to let this going beyond the “few minutes” he’d asked for.

  Sidney smiled at her and put his hand on her
shoulder again. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Oh really? Sheila must have dumped you.”

  His eyes widened, but his smile didn’t waver. “I’ve thought about the way things ended with you and me, Maxie. I was a fool. Sheila and I were never right for each other. Call it an early midlife crisis or something, because I don’t know now why I ever broke up with you. The guilt’s been eating away at me. I know I can’t expect your forgiveness right away, but I want to make it up to you. Show you how right we can be together. Guess I’m just asking for another chance.”

  “Call me skeptical, Sid, but why should I expect things to be different this time? Along comes another pretty face, and you’re gone again.”

  “No, no, you’ve got it all wrong, Maxie. I know we can make it work. No relationship is perfect, right? We really had a good thing going, and I want that back. All I’m asking for is another chance. Will you give me that?”

  Maxie bit her lip. They had been good together. At least for a while. Good enough that those little nagging doubts she’d been having were never allowed to poke their up through her garden of happy denial. Could they make it work? Did she want to try?

  She glanced out the window and spied Blaine still hovering, not far away. He was obviously worried about her. And it was sweet having him serve as her unofficial bodyguard. But what to do about Sidney? She replied, “I promise I’ll think about it, but that’s all, for now.”

  Sidney grinned widely and reached over to give her a big hug. “That’s all I ask. I’ll look forward to hearing from you, then.”

  When she’d finally gotten rid of her second unwanted visitor of the day, she headed to her desk, trailed by Blaine, then stood, not knowing what to do. Could this day get any worse? Looking at the clock and seeing it was three-thirty, she made up her mind. She grabbed her purse and said to Blaine, “Let’s get out of here.”

  She told Allison she wasn’t feeling well and apologized for making Allison close up, but Allison took it with her usual good humor. “We’re only open for another ninety minutes, Maxie. Go home. Get some rest.”

  But once she was in Blaine’s car and he started up the engine, she told him. “I don’t want to go home.”

  He looked at her with concern. “Do you need to go to the doctor?”

  “Hell no. I want to do something wild and crazy, something out of the ordinary.”

  “Okaaay. Like what?”

  “Show me some of your party-boy tricks. Take me where you like to hang out. Maybe that bar where you were before you hit me the other night. Take me there.”

  “Maxie, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. You said you weren’t feeling well. Maybe it’s a reaction to the pain meds? Or a relapse?”

  “I’m fine. Really. Take me to that bar. I’d like to see it.”

  From Blaine’s knitted brow and the way he was sucking air through his teeth, she knew he didn’t want to do it. But she insisted, saying she wouldn’t get out of the car unless it was at the bar, so he acquiesced.

  It was a little early for happy hour, but she didn’t care. She started on a beer, teasing Blaine when he opted for a soda. “What happened to that wild party boy I’ve heard so much about? I’m expecting you to show me how it’s done.”

  He steered her toward a table in the back, but after her third beer and the crowd had picked up, she’d had enough of the stodgy Blaine. “I’m going over there,” she pointed to the pole, where she’d watched one girl do an impromptu dance.

  She laid her crutches against the bar and hopped over to the pole, swinging herself around on her good leg. “Wheeee,” she cried, staring to shimmy her body against the pole to the beat of the music, the way she’d seen the other girl do.

  Blaine kept trying to get her attention, but she ignored him. Silly, stodgy Blaine. She didn’t want him. She wanted party-hearty Blaine. When the band switched over to a song she knew, she rescued her crutches and joined them on the stage, grabbing a microphone and singing along. Maybe she wasn’t Taylor Swift, but she’d been told she had a good voice, so why not show it off?

  When the song ended and everyone applauded, she took her bow as best she could on crutches, then looked around for Blaine. He was surrounded by a bevy of girls smiling at him like a bunch of cats circling around a bag of catnip.

  Suddenly, she didn’t like party-boy Blaine at all, and hobbled over as fast as she could, pushing the group of girls away. “He’s mine, ladies. I own him, don’t I Blainey?”

  Blaine started coughing hard, so she thwacked him on the back. He grabbed her arm and guided her firmly through the crowd and out the door. “Where we goin’, Blainey?”

  “I’m taking you home, Maxie. I should never have let you drink, especially being on pain meds.”

  She whined and tried to jerk her arm out of his grasp, but he was strong, and she was feeling unusually weak. Of course, he was strong. All sexy in that wet T-shirt clinging to his muscled abs.

  Blaine’s mouth opened into a giant “O.” Had she said that aloud? Whatever.

  Blaine grabbed some coffee via a fast food drive-through window, which he made her drink. She grimaced but downed some of the hot liquid. “Could use some beer,” she giggled. What had started out as a bad day didn’t seem all that bad, after all. Nope, not bad at all.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Blaine looked over at Maxie to make sure she was drinking her coffee. The drive to her house felt like it was in slow motion, but the images from the bar kept streaming through his head at high speed. He should have listened to his gut and never taken her there in the first place.

  God only knew what side effects she might get from mixing alcohol and those pain meds of hers. Had it made her more susceptible to the beer? It certainly didn’t seem like Maxie was used to drinking that much, and she’d never impressed him as having a hidden wild side.

  But oh what a wild side! Although his protective streak was working overtime, he also had to admit seeing that side of Maxie had been a big turn-on. And had she really admitted she considered him sexy with that crack of hers about his “wet T-shirt”? Must have been the alcohol talking. He’d been there many times, saying things he didn’t necessarily mean when he was drunk. Part of him wished it were true.

  He’d been ready to slug Doug Randolph in the jaw when the guy started hitting on Maxie during that whole pole-dancing thing. She hadn’t seem to notice him. Probably the beer clouding her vision, as well as her judgment. She had a nice voice, another hidden talent of hers. How many more hidden talents did this woman possess? No, he didn’t want to go there.

  “We here already?” she asked in a sleepy voice as they pulled up in front of her house. When she just sat there, with a dreamy smile on her face, he grabbed her purse and fished out her keys. He had her lean on him since she was doubly unsteady between the crutches and the beer, but somehow managed to get her inside and onto her sofa.

  He didn’t have a lot of time to study her house, but he did note it had practical and comfortable furnishings, unlike the more grandiose oversized pieces at his father’s mansion. It looked homey.

  A white, furry creature jumped up beside Maxie, who stroked the animal’s fur. “You hungry, little Greta? Of course you are. It’s ... what time is it?” she looked around.

  “Nine o’clock,” he replied.

  “Waaay past your feeding time, Greta. I’ll have to do something about that.”

  When she didn’t make any moves to get up, Blaine sighed and asked, “Where’s the cat food?”

  “There’s half a can in the fridge. And crunchies in the cabinet.”

  Dutifully following her instructions, he found both wet and dry food and made sure Greta had plenty of both and some water. When he’d taken care of the cat, he went to rescue Maxie’s mail from the box by the front door and had barely managed to get inside when he saw a car through the window in the door as the car drove slowly by. He couldn’t get a good look at the driver, but the man resembled Maxie’s father a little bit. Great. How would they
explain this?

  He returned to the den to check on Maxie, who was in the exact same position as when he’d left her. She smiled up at him. “You think I’m pretty, Blainey?”

  He gulped and went through a mental list of potential replies. Not that she’d remember much of their conversation tomorrow. “Gorgeous. Model-worthy.”

  She giggled. “You’re just saying that.”

  “Technically, I did just say that. Make of it what you will.” He grinned at her. She was kinda cute when she was soused. But when she licked her lips at him and started unbuttoning the top button of her shirt, he added hastily, “I think somebody needs to sleep off their binge.”

  “Ooooh, sleep. That sounds good. You want to sleep, too? Bed’s plenty big enough for two.”

  They’d gone from yellow alert caution flags to ear-splitting, eye-popping red alert alarm bells. He reached under her, and like he’d done at the scene of the accident, he scooped her up and carried her to her bedroom. He sat her down on a chair long enough to turn down one side of the covers, then took off her shoes and tucked her into the bed. She was right—definitely big enough for two.

  He shook off that thought and went to the den to rescue her crutches that he leaned beside the bed so she could reach them. Then he returned to the kitchen to check on Greta, who rubbed around his ankles and reached up to put her paws on his legs. Squatting down, he scratched her head and ears until the purring was as loud as a small plane. Guess he’d made a new friend?

  He picked up the cat and carried her to the bedroom, where he placed her gently next to Maxie. When the cat curled up next to her, he decided his work was done and headed out to leave.

  The ringing of his cellphone made him stop and answer it as fast as he could so as not to wake up the sleeping duo in the bedroom. It was Tanya.