Stalking Earth for epub

by Bonnie Vane

“That new Italian restaurant at Harbor Center has opened, Blaine. What say we go out for a romantic evening on the town. Dinner, maybe dancing? I’ve seen so little of you this week, I’m going through withdrawal.”

  “Ordinarily that would sound great. But I’m taking care of a sick friend.”

  “Really? Which friend?”

  Uh oh. Couldn’t you have thought of a honest-to-goodness lie, Blaine, old boy? “It’s someone from work.”

  The long pause on the other end of the phone was a dead giveaway. “You mean that Maxie person? If so, that’s a lame excuse, Blaine, even for you. You’ve only known her for a few days. How could she be a friend? And what’s the matter with her?”

  “She broke her ankle, remember. Make that I broke her ankle, with my car. Part of my court-ordered duties is to be her chauffeur, and when she wasn’t feeling well, I had to drive her home from the library. That’s all.”

  Not a lie, a part-truth. He shuddered to think of what might happen if word got back to Tanya from mutual acquaintances of theirs who might have been at the bar and seen Maxie and Blaine there.

  “You picked a fine time to become the Boy Scout type, Blaine. Why all of a sudden?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Tanya laughed. “You’re not called the Tannahill Terror for nothing. What happened to the party animal I know?”

  “Maybe he’s partied out.”

  “That’s as likely as the devil liking angel food cake. Come on,” Tanya whined. “Let’s go out tonight. That Maxie person can take care of herself. She has family, doesn’t she?”

  Blaine sighed, thinking of her father earlier today. “Yeah, I guess. Fine, we’ll go out to eat. Happy?”

  “Ecstatic. I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes.”

  He was too tired to argue that he needed more than that to get home and get cleaned up. Fine, she wanted to go out, she could wait a few minutes. He noted the white cat hair all over his pants. Would serve her right if he showed up like this.

  He tiptoed to the bedroom to peek in on Maxie, who was breathing deeply, her chest rising slightly like one in the middle of sound sleep. He hadn’t been lying when he told her she was beautiful. Even in her alcohol-fueled, less than fresh state.

  But Tanya was right, wasn’t she? He was the “Tannahill Terror.” Hardly the type for Maxie or she for him. Yes, she’d been a bit uninhibited at the bar earlier, but that wasn’t her true nature.

  What had put the bug in her ear to go on a wild tear like that? Her father’s visit? Or was it that Sidney person? Blaine’s mood darkened when he thought of the man. He didn’t like him. Didn’t like how he fawned over Maxie, the way he touched her like he owned her. Who was that creep? Maxie had never mentioned him before.

  With a heavier sigh, he made sure Maxie’s place was locked up properly and tore himself from her and her comfy house to get ready for his date with Tanya. And why did Tanya always want Italian?

  Blaine hated Italian, something he’d told her once before. Guess she hadn’t been paying attention. Since he was driving, it wasn’t like he could sample any wines, the best thing about Italian cuisine. There was no way he’d have a repeat of his blunder the other night. He doubted even his father’s attorney could get him out of an accident a second time, especially if he really was drunk.

  He put both hands firmly on the wheel and grimly made his way to his house. He tried not to think of Maxie in her bed and how much he wished he was the one curled up next to her instead of her cat.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Maxie blinked away the daggers of sunlight streaming through the gap in her bedroom curtains. She looked at the clock, which said seven a.m., and moaned. She only had an hour to get ready for work. But when she sat up suddenly, she realized that wasn’t a good idea. Her head throbbed like a rock band was playing away inside with the subwoofers turned up.

  Looking down at her attire, she saw she was in her day clothes. What in the world had happened? She shook her head to clear out the cobwebs, but that only made her head hurt worse. Then she saw the glass of water and the little bottle of aspirin on the nightstand with a hand-written note, Thought you might need these when you woke up. Blaine.

  Snippets of the evening before came back to her. She’d made Blaine take her to a bar, wasn’t that it? Where there were crowds of people and beer and ... a pole? Oh God, she hadn’t. Had she? And there was a live band, unlike the one in her head, playing something and she singing. What else had she done?

  She looked over at Greta, who’d popped up and looked at her expectantly. Poor Greta. Maxie had come home and gone straight to bed and poor Greta was left to fend for herself.

  Maxie grabbed her crutches that she hadn’t remembered putting by her bed and hobbled to the kitchen, expecting empty bowls. But they were half-filled. She peered into the fridge, where the can of cat food from yesterday was gone, and she spied the empty can in the trash. How in the world had she managed to get inside, feed Greta, and still manage to get into bed in her clothes?

  Oh. More snippets from yesterday came streaming back into her conscious, and she realized she hadn’t done any of it. Blaine had carried her in, put her on the bed, taken off her shoes, and apparently fed Greta. She was so never going to live this down.

  She patted her clothing, making sure. Same outfit she had on yesterday. So Blaine really had tucked her in and not taken advantage of her drunken stupor. She relaxed, although part of her wondered if maybe he didn’t find her attractive?

  Somehow, she managed to get showered and dressed. She fed Greta, but the only thing she felt she could keep down herself was some toast. Truth be told, this was her first real hangover. She had a drink every now and then, but never anything like this. Hadn’t Blaine said something about alcohol and pain meds being a bad idea? Boy, was he right.

  When Blaine stopped by around eight to pick her up, she drew herself up to her full height and beamed at him. No reason to let him know how right he’d been and how miserable she felt right now.

  “You look well rested,” he said.

  “Naturally. I can party with the best of them. And keep up with you, apparently.”

  The corners of Blaine’s lips turned up into a small smile. “Well, I saw a different Maxie Cottrill yesterday.”

  “Which one did you like best?”

  “I like the one I’m with. I like you just as you are.”

  “That sounds like a politically correct statement if I ever heard one.”

  “If the truth is PC, then I’m PC. Did you get breakfast?”

  She held her stomach. “Toast. And the aspirin you thoughtfully left for me.”

  “Need anything else?”

  “I wouldn’t mind going by the drugstore. Maybe pick up something for nausea.”

  He dutifully drove her to the nearest store, where she popped in to study the gastro meds. Perhaps her situational awareness was a bit off still because she didn’t notice a woman approaching her until the woman spoke to her. “Maxie? Maxie Cottrill?”

  Maxie peered at the woman with her honey-colored hair and ice-blue eyes. “I’m sorry. Do I know you?”

  “No, but I know you. I’ve seen you at the library. That’s where Blaine Tannahill was sent for his punishment, wasn’t it?”

  “Punishment? I don’t know if you’d phrase it quite that way. He’s a big help.”

  “He might be putting on a show. I’ve known him for some time. You have to be careful around that one.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “A total womanizer. Can’t keep his hands off any woman he sees. They’re all fair game to add to his list of conquests. But I guess you’re safe since he feels sorry for you.”

  “Sorry for me?”

  “Your family not having a lot of money. He took pity on you so that’s why he agreed to this little punishment of his. ‘That mousy little Maxie,’ I think he said. Well, that, and the fact he wants to do anything he can to keep your father from suing him. I’m sure his own powerful father had so
mething to do with that. Probably arranged the whole thing.”

  “I’m sure you must be mistaken, Miss—”

  “I heard it straight from the mouth of the wives of one of the Tannahill attorneys. Just thought you might like a friendly warning. Stay as far away from that Blaine Tannahill as you possibly can. He’s left a trail of broken hearts in his wake.”

  “Thank you, Miss—”

  “Tanya.” The other woman waved to her and headed out the back door. Maybe her car was parked back there?

  Suddenly Maxie couldn’t concentrate on the packages of anti-nausea meds lining the shelves. With a shaking hand, she snatched one of the bottles and paid for it before returning to Blaine’s car.

  “Get something helpful?”

  She didn’t look at him. “More than I expected.”

  She could sense the sudden turn of his head and saw him staring at her out of the corner of her eye. He didn’t say anything else, and they drove to the library in silence. Maxie cranked up the country music station on the radio so she wouldn’t have to talk to him.

  Once at the library, she hastened back to her desk, with him trailing, as usual, and started barking out orders to him. He shot her an odd look but obeyed her instructions. After several hours of her barking and him following orders, he finally pulled her aside. “Are you okay, Maxie? You seem pissed with me for some reason. If it’s because you’re embarrassed about last night—”

  “I’m not embarrassed. I’m great. Just great.”

  “Oh really?” Blaine turned her around so she could look at him directly instead of the avoidance tactics she’d been using all day. But she still wouldn’t look into his eyes. “Why don’t I believe you, Maxie?”

  “Believe what you want. I’m just a poor, mousy little thing you took pity on.” She didn’t add the bit about his wanting to avoid a lawsuit. Maybe she was too hasty to condemn her father for wanting to sue the Tannahills.

  “You are not poor and you are certainly not mousy. And I don’t pity you at all. Where in the world did you get such ideas? Why now?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe all that beer cleared some things up.”

  “It’s usually the opposite.” Then Blaine frowned. “Why did you use the word ‘mousy’?”

  “It’s true, isn’t it? ‘Mousy little Maxie’?”

  “I’ve only heard one person call you that, and it wasn’t me. It was a girl named Tanya.”

  Finally, Maxie looked into his eyes. “Tanya?”

  “Tanya Ambler. She and I ... we’ve sort of been dating.”

  “Sort of dating?”

  “She calls it that. I’m not sure what I call it. Company, I guess.”

  “She seemed, well, nice.” That was most definitely a lie because nice wasn’t at all the word Maxie wanted to use.

  “Where did you meet Tanya? Was it at the drugstore?”

  Maxie licked her lips. “I guess.”

  “That drugstore is well out of the way from her house. I find it highly unlikely she just ‘happened’ to be there the same time we were.”

  “You mean she followed us?”

  Blaine shrugged. “Wouldn’t put it past her.”

  Maxie felt a tightness in her chest. “I wouldn’t want to come between you and your girlfriend. I can assure you I won’t get in the way. Our relationship will remain purely platonic.”

  Blaine cupped her face in his hands and pulled his head closer to hers. He kissed her on the lips, a long, slow, lingering kiss, then said, “Now do you think we should keep it purely platonic?”

  Maxie gaped at Blaine as Tanya’s words, her father’s warnings, and Sidney’s attempts to get back together with her swirled around in her mind. Her head was saying “run, run, run,” but her heart wanted to grab him and kiss him back even harder than he had her.

  Blaine added, “Tell you what? Why don’t you take a break this weekend and come with me to rest and recuperate in beautiful mountain surroundings? It’ll be a change from the shore and be good for your soul. You won’t have to do anything at all. Nothing you didn’t want to do. If you want to sleep all weekend by yourself in your own bedroom, that’s fine with me. Or read books. What do you say?”

  As the mental videos of Tanya, her father, and Sidney continued to play loudly in her mind, she had a sudden moment of clarity. She was tired of it. Screw everyone else and the ways they were always trying to manipulate her and tell her what to do.

  She replied, “What time do we leave?”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  When Blaine stopped by Maxie’s house Saturday morning, he half-expected her to tell him she’d changed her mind. Instead, he found her waiting outside on her crutches with an overnight bag at her feet. As he helped her into his car, he asked, “What about Greta?”

  “My friend Nellie is taking care of her.” Maxie settled in and fastened her seatbelt. “I want to thank you for taking care of Greta the other evening when I was ... well—”

  “Drunk as a skunk?”

  Maxie giggled. “You might say that. Did you know skunks can become intoxicated by eating fermented fruits and berries fallen from trees?”

  “You’d be good at Trivial Pursuit.”

  “Child’s play for any librarian. Don’t suppose you have the game at the cabin, do you?”

  “No, but there’s chess, checkers, cards. And I think one box of Chutes and Ladders.”

  “Chutes and Ladders? For a boy at heart?”

  “More like for the kids of a cousin of mine. We let other family stay at the retreat from time to time.”

  Blaine pointed at a section in the car’s center console. “Speaking of entertainment. There might be something in there you’d enjoy.”

  He waited as she pulled out several CDs with music by Blake Shelton, Miranda Lambert, and Keith Urban. He was rewarded with a small squeal. “Did you buy these just for me?”

  “I might have had them lying around somewhere,” he lied.

  “Really? So who’s your favorite performer? And don’t tell me it’s Keith Urban.”

  “Gray Gem, actually. They’re kinda my idols. But I listen to all kinds of music.”

  She put in the first disc and they listened to the music while they carried on small talk during the two-and-a-half-hour drive. He was enjoying the trip so much, it felt more like half an hour to him when they finally entered the long, winding driveway that led up to the top of the mountain. He helped her out with the crutches and watched as she took in the scenic views looking down on Charlottesville and the surrounding hills. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Told you it’d be restful and relaxing.”

  She turned around, and her jaw dropped as she saw the cabin. “That’s a cabin? I was expecting some little, rustic wooden thing.”

  “With an outhouse?”

  “Maybe not that rustic. But this is a mini-mansion.”

  He took her on the grand tour of the interior, pleased to see she was enjoying the two-story stone fireplace with the wall of windows to the side. He guided her into the kitchen, where she exclaimed over the modern appliances.

  “This is better than my house,” she said, as they continued to the twelve-seat dining room table and on to the den with the walkout to a large deck in back.

  “Where are the bedrooms?” she asked.

  He felt a warmth creeping along his face and wondered if he was turning red. “There are three bedrooms upstairs, but seeing as how you have the crutches, decided I’d put you in the master bedroom downstairs. Um, it’s right through here.” Blaine carried her bag down the hall to the room and laid it on the dressing table.

  Maxie studied the room, her smile growing broader. “A four-poster bed. And a sitting area, too. I don’t know who your decorator was, but I approve. It’s contemporary but country at the same time.”

  She fingered the turquoise-and-navy quilt on the bed. “Blue’s my favorite color, too.”

  Blaine indicated a door to the side. “That’s the bathroom. It has a tub and a shower, so
I think you’ll be okay with the crutches.”

  She giggled again. “You were worried you’d have to help me bathe, too?”

  “It never crossed my mind.”

  “Liar,” she replied.

  Once he’d made sure she was settled in, he offered to make her lunch with some of the groceries they’d picked up on their way into town. He whipped up some grilled Panini sandwiches made from challah bread and mozzarella and feta cheese. As they sat at the kitchen island munching on the sandwiches and a mixed-berry salad, she asked nonchalantly. “How many women have you brought here?”

  “Counting you?”

  “Counting me.”

  “One.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Are you telling me I’m the first woman you’ve ever invited here? Or the first woman who ever agreed to come?”

  “Both.”

  Maxie took a swig of ginger ale and stared at him for a moment. “I think you’re telling me the truth.”

  “Look, Maxie if those things Tanya said to you, whatever they are, are still bugging you—”

  “They’re not. I mean, you never invited Tanya here.”

  No, he hadn’t. Not even when she kept hinting that she wanted to see the place, having heard about it from Cash. She still brought it up every now and then, and he had found a legitimate excuse every time. If she ever found out he’d brought Maxie up here, he might be missing some of the family jewels when she showed him her displeasure. But after the ugly things she said to Maxie, served her right.

  After they finished eating, they wandered into the great room where Maxie went over to study some of the guitars hanging on the wall. “Tannahill specials?”

  He nodded. “Oh, and there’s one that doesn’t hang there. I’ll go get it and be right back.” He strode into the den, snagged his prize from the closet and brought it in to show her.

  She gazed at it and smiled. “An acoustic guitar. I didn’t think your family made these.”

  “We don’t. But we keep one here in case of power outages or if any guests might want to play it. Since you’re my guest, would you like to take it on a test run?”

  He carried it over to a chair until she got herself and her crutches situated and then handed it over.