by Jeanne Adams
“So, you’re the attorney, eh?” Dev said, eyeing Paul. “The one that was the best man, right?”
“That was a long time ago, Dev. Water under the bridge.”
“There are some long bridges, where I come from, cher cousine. Plenty of time to dip some water.”
“No, there isn’t,” Torie said flatly. She was not going to referee some stupid male dominance battle, nor let her cousin defend her over long-ago slights. Much as he obviously wanted to, which was sweet. Hadn’t she already dredged up enough of the past, shouting at Paul? “I let the water flow, Dev, and I’ve moved on.”
“Hmmm.”
She glared at him. “Water. Under the bridge. Done. Over. My battles, Dev. Remember?”
“Yeah, yeah, cher. I read you loud and clear,” he said with a laugh. He shot Paul an amused look. “She defends you pretty good, counselor.”
Paul nodded, but didn’t respond. He nodded at Pam. “Pam, long time, no see.”
“All the better,” Pam managed without a smile.
“Pam, you said it was urgent.” Torie redirected the budding blowup. She knew Pam and, new beau or not, she’d always wanted a chunk of Paul Jameson’s hide. It had been Pam who had helped her pick up the pieces of her college life, Pam who had made sure she survived the heartaches. Pam was the one who had introduced her to Todd.
Instantly contrite, and distracted from Paul, Pam responded. “Oh, it is. He got away. I don’t know how.”
“Where’s Carlos?” Now Torie was deeply worried.
“Out hunting him.”
“How did he get out?”
“It was a mistake. He’d been doing so well.” Pam was pacing now, her worry prompting her to move. “I wasn’t ready to move him yet. I don’t have a home lined up.”
“The family in Harrisburg fell through?”
“Yeah, they paid more to someone else, but they got reliable merchandise, you know?”
“But this boy is reliable. We know that. You can’t do all that, and oh…” Torie wanted to cry all over again. It was bad enough that her life was totally screwed. She hated that this little project was going to hell in a go-cart as well. “I had so hoped that home would work and work quickly. Carlos has done so much.”
“Carlos hasn’t minded the work. He used to be a tech, you know?” Pam replied. One part of Torie’s brain noted that she was pitching her voice like Dev’s, and using the same rhythm and speech pattern that her cousin used.
Bad sign.
“Stop.”
Torie turned to Paul, reacting as much to his firm, irritated tone as she did to the word.
“What?”
“What are we doing here that’s a matter of life and death? Who is Carlos, and what or who is he hunting?” Paul ticked the points off on his fingers. “Oh, and last but not least, what the hell do you have to do with it?”
Torie looked at Pam, who managed to look sheepish. Dev had crossed his arms over his chest and was looking amused, but was apparently just as interested in the answer as Paul was.
When she shot a questioning look Pam’s way, her friend shrugged. “I hadn’t had a chance to explain to Dev either. I just told him where to meet me. Carlos nearly took Dev out with a baseball bat before we got him to listen.”
“I thought you said he was reliable?” Torie was aghast. First her cousin was attacked because of her, now this.
“He is, but he’s nervous now. There’s been a lot of…” Pam glanced at Paul. “Snooping around. Neighbors and stuff.”
“Torie, who the hell is Carlos, why is he looking for someone out in the dark, and why are you—” he turned a hot, angry look toward Pam—“involved in finding someone a home? For money?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“I sure as hell hope not, because what I’m thinking could get you twenty-five years in jail.”
“No, it’s—”
There was a banging from the back of the house, and within seconds, the door to the living room burst inward. An excited Carlos bounced into the middle of the fray. Torie barely recognized the suave restaurateur in the mud-covered, wild-haired man standing before her.
“Pam, you must, oh—” He stopped at the sight of Paul in his city lawyer suit, and Torie in her business attire.
“Carlos, this is my friend Torie, the one I told you about. And this is her…friend, Paul.”
“You, I recognize you.” Carlos looked at Paul. “You’re a lawyer.”
“Yes.”
“I hate lawyers.”
“So do I,” Paul said, his tone flat, with no hint of humor.
Carlos stood for a moment, considering. Then smiled.
Then laughed.
So did Dev.
Pam rolled her eyes, but Torie smiled. Male bonding was weirder than anything women came up with.
“Where is he?”
“Come, I’ll show you.”
She moved to follow, but Paul blocked her way.
“You are not going anywhere until you answer my questions.”
“I’ll back you up on that,” Dev said, stepping up beside Paul. “I think we’d better hear this story from the beginning.”
“There’s no time,” Torie said, attempting to push past them.
“No.” Paul’s voice was stone hard, and she could see Dev taking on the same stance.
Chapter Eight
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Torie began.
“It’s a dog,” Pam snapped. “Now get out of the way.”
Together the two women pushed passed the gaping men to follow Carlos through the house, out the back door, and into the darkness.
“Well, damn,” Paul said. He turned to Dev. “Did all that cloak and dagger talk sound like they were talking about a dog?”
“Hell, no.”
“Jesus, she drives me insane. You coming?”
“No.” Dev grimaced. “Not this mission, Kemo Sabe. I’ll do more harm than good.”
Paul grinned, suddenly struck by Dev’s posing for Pam. “Not all that well yet, huh?”
Dev read exactly what Paul meant, and laughed. “Good enough for some things, eh? But not for chasing wily animals in the dark, you know? The stitches don’t come out till next week.”
“Got it. I better go if I want to keep up,” Paul said as he was moved toward the door.
“Luck, brother.”
“Thanks. With this caper, we’re gonna need it.”
Pushing open the back door, Paul was engulfed in darkness. Three bouncing lights were already at the back of the property, pausing at a large gate.
“Hang on,” he called, moving quickly toward them. They waited, then went through the gate and into a long stretch of wild grass. The power line easement stretched out before them, rolling for miles as it meandered through neighborhoods and out into the countryside.
“He’s holed up in a shed over on the other side of the easement,” Carlos said. “Some kids found him and came and let me know.”
“Kids?” Torie asked, amazed.
“Yeah, they know stuff. They keep me posted.” Paul could see the flash of his grin in the dark. “I know everything going on in my ’hood, ladies. Everything. Kids see a lot more than anyone thinks, you know.”
“I know,” Pam muttered. The way she said it was striking. Paul, used to listening to jurors and clients for the meaning behind the words, had to wonder what might have happened to Pam, or what she’d heard as a child.
“Is he frightened again?” Torie asked, oblivious to the byplay.
“No, I don’t think so, but the kids, they shut him in. I think he’s just stuck,” Carlos explained.
“Okay. Do the property owners know he’s there? Should we tell them?”
“Naw. Those people are never home.”
“As long as we don’t get shot at again, I don’t care,” Pam muttered.
“Shot at?” Paul growled. “Torie.”
“Later, Paul. I’ll explain it all later. For now, we’ve got to get to Bear.”
�
�Bear?”
“The dog.”
“What is he, a Chihuahua?” His buddy in high school had named his Chihuahua Rambo, so he figured it might fit.
“No. He’s a Rottweiler, and maybe an Australian Cattle Dog, crossbred with a Labrador retriever. Could be some Newfoundland, too, as big as he is.”
“Holy shit.”
“Big motherfu…sorry,” Carlos aborted what he was about to say. “He’s huge.”
“Great.”
They reached the other side of the cleared area, and Carlos took the lead again. A narrow dirt path opened up to a cement sidewalk, and they were able to move more quickly.
“Let me go in—he knows me.”
“He’s gonna be scared,” Carlos temporized. “You sure you want to do that?”
“He knows me. I got him into this mess.”
“Torie,” Paul started.
“Shut up, Paul. Don’t start with me. My life is so out of my control, I can’t bear it. This, I can do. So shut up and let me.”
The three waited five endlessly tense minutes for Torie to return. When she did, she was leading the biggest damn dog Paul had ever seen. The beast was pressed firmly to the side of her leg, eyes darting furtively around. When he caught wind of their presence, he didn’t bark. He just stopped. Torie, caught off guard, stumbled to a halt as well.
“It’s okay, Bear, they’re with me.”
Her voice, cheerful and pleasant, was like a live wire to the dog. Without warning, Bear bounded forward again, dragging Torie with him. He ignored Pam and Carlos, whom he knew, and focused on Paul.
Two enormous, dinner-plate sized feet planted themselves on his lapels. For several heartbeats, he and the dog stared at one another. There was the barest curl to the dog’s lip that made Paul wonder if he was going to lose his face. Instead, a moment later, the biggest damn tongue he’d ever seen wrapped itself around his jaw.
“Get down, Bear,” Torie managed, tugging on the lead.
Seemingly satisfied, Bear dropped down to all fours.
Pam let out a long breath. “Good Lord, I thought he was going to take your face off.”
They started walking, and Paul answered her. “Me, too, Pam. Me, too.”
When they finally arrived at Paul’s house, it was after ten. Paul plopped the fast-food bags on the kitchen table and flipped on the lights.
“So. What’s the story with the dog? Is that where you were with Pam? The night your place was…” Paul hesitated, not wanting to say torched, which was the first word springing to mind. “Damaged?”
Torie nodded. She was still standing in the doorway. She looked weary and a little bewildered. Asking about the dog brought a spark of interest to her eyes.
“He’s a sweet dog, really. The owner lives next to a friend of Pam’s. He chained the dog up short, only let him have water once a day or so. We’re not sure how often he fed him.”
“He’s that big and not getting regular meals?” Paul whistled in astonishment. “Holy crap.”
“Yeah.” Torie smiled. “And he’s sweet. We think the guy was trying to make him mean to use him in fights.”
“He’d make a killing,” Paul said, keeping his face poker straight.
Torie fired up, almost immediately. “You cannot tell me you would condone…” she trailed off, catching him in the lie. “I know you wouldn’t, so what are you going to say, smart-ass?”
“The other dog would die of fright.”
She laughed, as he hoped. Together they walked on through to the kitchen. He scanned the counters, glad to see he hadn’t left anything sitting out.
“It’s clean, I think. The housekeeper was here yesterday. I know there’re clean sheets on the guest bed.”
“That’s fine. Just show me where. I feel like I could sleep for a week.”
“Sounds good to me, too,” Paul said, setting his briefcase on the floor. “But we both need to eat. You especially.”
“Is that your way of saying I look like shit?” Torie retorted, as she plopped wearily into the chair at the table, and began rustling in the bags.
“No, it means you haven’t eaten today, not breakfast, and not lunch. You’ve been shorting yourself on sleep and food, Torie. That’s a bad combo. Believe me, I know.”
“Yeah,” was all she could manage.
“Here, let me help.” He pulled plates from the cabinet, and found two cold Sprites in the fridge. He kept them for his niece and nephew, but he needed something wet, decaffeinated, and nonalcoholic. Setting them on the table, he managed to get the hamburgers set out, and the steaming French fries heaped onto a communal plate. “There. It’s not haute cuisine, but it’ll do for tonight. Dig in.”
Together the plowed through the food. The appetite he’d always admired wasn’t up to its usual standard, but Torie held her own. However, when she’d eaten the burger, the steam left her.
“I could put my head down right here on this table, and sleep.”
“You’d get a crick in your neck,” Paul observed, pushing his plate away. He’d stopped eating to watch her, and the last of the fries no longer appealed. The familiar gnawing in his gut was making the ketchup a bad choice as well.
“You sound like my mother.” Torie’s muffled voice came from the crook of her arm as she put her head down on the table. “I was right. I could sleep here.”
Paul laughed and moved around behind her. “No way,” he rubbed at her shoulders a bit. “You’ll ruin my rep if anyone sees you at the table, asleep.”
“I’ll promise you anything if you keep rubbing my shoulders,” Torie said on a groan.
Under his hands, her tight shoulders relaxed, and as he moved to her back, she sighed. Everything in his body went on high alert. Her soft moan had him gritting his teeth in a vain attempt to focus on something other than the thought of Torie’s back, her body, what else might make her moan.
“C’mon, Tor,” he said softly. “Let’s get you to bed.”
She opened one bleary eye. “You haven’t called me that in…forever.”
He hadn’t. Damn it, now was not the time to slip up, with her in his house, close to him. She’d be sleeping in the other bedroom, for God’s sake.
“Time for bed, Torie. You’ll have to walk this time. I’m too frickin’ tired myself to carry you that far.”
She raised her head, and gave him a sleepy smile. It was the sexiest damn thing he’d ever seen, and his body responded. He could practically feel the blood pounding in his veins. It didn’t get any better when she stood up, stretching all those lithe muscles, arching her back and bending forward to pick up her purse.
Damn. She had one of the finest asses he’d ever seen. He’d lusted after her for that one attribute since the first moment he’d seen her, sophomore year.
“You carried me, from one bed to the next, didn’t you?” It was more statement than question, so he just nodded. Not trusting himself to speak.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” his voice sounded weird, tinny, and high, but Torie didn’t seem to notice. “Let’s get you settled.”
The thoughts running through his mind would have made a sailor blush, and it was all he could do to walk normally, switch on lights, and try to be a good host.
“Here. The guest bedroom. Uh, the bathroom’s across the hall here.” He turned on the light. “I think everything you need’s in the cabinets. My sisters are okay with it, so it’s been girl approved.”
“Girl approved?” She laughed. “Sounds good. I just want to wash my face and crawl under the covers.” Pausing, she looked uncomfortable for a moment, then dropped her eyes.
“What?” Had she seen how aroused he was? Damn it. He cursed his reaction to her, not for the first time either.
“I, uh, need something to wear to bed. The stuff I got today,” she began, remembering the shredded bags, the torn clothing. “Uh, and none of the things left over from the Suites included pajamas. Or anything I could sleep in.”
“I know. N
ever mind. I’ll get you a T-shirt. Some boxers. Will that work?”
A look of relief and a smile were his answer.
“Okay, you get your face washed and I’ll be right back.”
It took him a few minutes to find something suitable, but he unearthed a clean, long sleeved Temple T-shirt and a pair of gym shorts with a drawstring waist. He refused to think about how erotic it was to have her wearing his clothes.
Refused. Not going there.
“Torie?” He tapped on the door. “You haven’t fallen asleep on me, have you?”
She opened the door, her face freshly washed, the hair at her temples wet. A laugh sparkled in her eyes. He could watch that all day.
“I thought about it, but the bed seemed like a better idea.”
“It is.” He closed his eyes and winced. “What I mean is,” he began.
“Shhh.” She put a finger to his lips. “I know. You didn’t mean anything by it.”
Was there disappointment in her voice?
He wished he’d turned on the hall light. Now that she’d turned the bathroom light off, in the dim light coming from the bedrooms he couldn’t tell if she was serious or…
She leaned into him and he wanted to groan. Out loud. She brushed his cheek with a kiss.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “For being kind. I’m sorry I shouted at you earlier.”
She took hold of the shirt and shorts, but he didn’t let go.
“Paul?”
“I’m not that kind, Torie. I’m…” He didn’t finish. He didn’t know what he was.
“You’re?”
He looked into her eyes and forgot about their argument, forgot that he’d wanted to justify his need to protect her. He couldn’t see their expression, but he could see her lips and he wanted them. She was close enough for him to smell the soap she’d used to wash her face. He could smell the faint scent of dog, from Bear. And grass.
“You smell like grass,” he murmured. “And moonlight.”
Where had that come from? He didn’t know, but it was true. There was a wild night perfume that was driving him to speak, to act.
“Paul?” Torie whispered his name. But she didn’t move away. Didn’t retreat this time. He shoved the past away and focused on the now.