Читать книгу Family Found - Bonnie Winn K. - Страница 12

THE WEATHERMAN HAD predicted a thunderstorm, but it hadn’t struck the city yet. The sky was graying and the air had cooled enough that the storm wasn’t an empty threat. The wind picked up errant leaves and showered them over the streets like chocolate-colored raindrops. Even though Laura liked nothing better than a stormy, windswept day, she scarcely noticed the changing atmosphere. Her mind was too full.

Had she taken the right course in hiring this cowboy detective? Or should she have taken a more conservative approach? Filled with worry, she leaned a bit longer on the doorbell than she’d intended.

The door was yanked open suddenly and Rhoda stared at her. “Is the house on fire?”

Laura managed a wan smile. “Sorry. I guess my mind was on other things.”

Rhoda studied her. “That’s understandable with all the strain you’re under. Come in, child. I’m brewing some chamomile tea.”

Tea. Her aunt Rhoda’s solution for everything. Yet there was comfort in the familiar. Laura recognized that the routine was as soothing as the actual liquid.

Trailing her aunt, she entered the kitchen, a large high-tech room. However, despite a recent, costly remodeling the room was no longer warm and inviting. While the kitchen typically represented the heart of a home, this one needed just that. It had no heart. Before renovation, Rhoda’s house had seemed cozy; now it looked as though it belonged on the slick pages of a glossy magazine. But Laura knew the house was a point of pride for her aunt. She had struggled for many years and only recently had been able to afford to improve her lifestyle.

Rhoda placed thin, fragile bone china cups on the oak table. Laura recognized them as the antique cups that had once belonged to her grandmother, cups that had been in her family for generations. That same familiar spurt of disbelief struck her. How was it that she wasn’t the product of this family? It seemed the same blood must run in her veins. Otherwise, how could the connection be so intense, so real?

“Any news?” Rhoda asked her as she filled the creamer.

“No. Actually, that’s why I’m here.”

The crash and shattering china distracted them both. Laura jumped to her feet, then knelt beside the broken pieces. “Oh, Rhoda. The creamer that came by wagon train.” Carefully, she retrieved the largest fragments. “I’ve heard about specialists who can repair broken china so that it scarcely shows a trace of the break.” Gently she handed the pieces to her aunt. “I guess we’re all feeling the strain.”

“Uh, yes, of course. Don’t worry about the creamer, Laura. It’s just china.”

Laura eyed her aunt in concern. Family heirlooms rated near the top in importance for Rhoda. Apparently, her aunt was so worried by the seriousness of Alex’s condition that the heirlooms had lost some of their importance. “Still, let’s save them.”

“All right.” Rhoda rattled around the cupboard, before settling on a small silver creamer. “I guess I can use that tea almost as much as you.”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

Rhoda stilled her movements. “What was that?”

“About how I should hire an attorney rather than a hotshot detective.”

Slow and deliberate, Rhoda crossed the room. “Isn’t he accomplishing what you expected?”

Laura shrugged. “I want him to have the answers yesterday and I know that’s not possible, but I just want to make sure I did the right thing in hiring him.”

Frowning, Rhoda studied her tea, adding a bit of sugar. For a few moments only the clink of the silver spoon punctuated the silence. “I realize I suggested a lawyer, but if you’re satisfied with your young man’s methods, then you should stick to your decision.”

“He’s hardly my ‘young man,’ Rhoda.”

Thin eyebrows arched in inquiry. “You could do worse.”

“And have,” Laura admitted. “But that’s not the point.”

“I wasn’t sure what I thought about him at first.” Blunt by nature, Rhoda seldom minced words. “He seemed awfully sure of himself. But I remember once liking that in a man. Mitch Tucker could be a keeper.”

Laura rolled her eyes. “I’m worried about saving Alex, not snagging a man.”

“I’m not suggesting anything less, dear. But you don’t have to blind yourself to the obvious.”

“Dare I ask what that might be?”

“A handsome, confident man who knows his own mind.”

“Right now I need to be sure of my own mind first. What if I’ve done the wrong thing in hiring him? Suppose I’m wasting time? Time we don’t have to waste. Maybe I should meet with the attorney, at least talk to him—”

“Laura.” Rhoda placed one hand atop hers. “You can’t go off scatterbrained in a dozen different directions.”

“But—”

“I know you want to do everything within your power, but going crazy won’t help Alex. You’ll be dividing your energies in so many ways, you’ll exhaust yourself. Laura, trust your instincts. And allow yourself enough time to see if this will work.”

“But we don’t have time!” Laura reiterated. She heard the despair in her voice and lowered her head.

“Laura, don’t give up on Alex.”

“I’m not!”

“You have to trust that he can hang in there as long as it takes.”

For a brief moment Laura considered her own denial and the quiet understanding in her aunt’s expression. “You’re right. I guess I just sort of panicked. I keep thinking that Alex’s fate rests in my hands. If I don’t make the right choices, he’s the one who’ll suffer.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Laura. His fate is in larger hands than yours. You’ll just have to trust in that.”

“I do. But I’ve always felt I had to be the strong one, in charge, sure of what I was doing.”

“It doesn’t hurt to lean. You just haven’t had anyone strong enough to lean on. Maybe that will change.”

Shocked, Laura drew back. “Surely you don’t mean Mitch Tucker.”

“It may be premature, but I’d like you to drop your defensive shields and be open to possibilities.”

“That hasn’t worked too well for me in the past.”

“And this is today, Laura.” Rhoda shrugged, but her hands moved nervously as her gaze appeared to settle on something far beyond Laura. “It’s wise to learn from your mistakes, not to wallow in them.”

Laura winced. “That was candid—and I appreciate the concern. But I can’t allow myself to become involved with another ladies’ man.”

“Isn’t that a rather quick conclusion?”

Laura’s smile was tinged with wise regret. “I guess experience makes me a quick learner. But right now I don’t need to worry about romance. I need answers.”

“Then believe in yourself. The rest will follow.”

Laura wanted to accept her aunt’s words, yet she couldn’t miss the betraying nervousness of Rhoda’s manner, the subtle but skittish movements she tried to disguise. It seemed neither of them was all that assured. And that sent the fear spiraling.

MITCH INHALED the ripe smell of incoming rain. It would be another drencher. Houston didn’t bother with gentle rain. Instead the skies opened, dumping water over the landscape, much like upturned buckets. The uninitiated were often shocked by the deluges. But the natives took it in stride. And Mitch was native to the skin.

Crossing the parking lot, he heard the squeal of an approaching car. Briefly closing his eyes, he emitted a groan. He could guarantee without looking who was driving the car. And it was too late for a clean getaway.

“Tucker!” Laura called out as she pivoted sharply into an adjoining parking stall. In seconds, she scrambled from the vehicle, then slammed the door and headed toward him.

Mitch had dealt with difficult clients in the past, but he’d never had one who had become glue. He wouldn’t be surprised if she welded the bumper of her car to his so she wouldn’t miss a move.

“Tucker!” she repeated as she reached him. “I almost missed you!”

“And that would be a tragedy,” he replied, pulling keys from his pocket.

“What?”

He sighed. “Nothing. I’m on my way out, so if you don’t need anything urgent—”

“Good! I was afraid I wouldn’t catch you.” She pulled open the passenger door of his car. “Where are we going?”

He withheld an additional sigh. It would be easier to rid himself of his own skin. “To hospitals.”

She frowned. “What are we hoping to find?”

“First, how many females were born in each one on the same day you were. Once we learn that, we find out which doctors and nurses were on duty the same day.”

“Ones who might know something about my birth mother?” Laura questioned. But her voice began to cloud. “How can they possibly remember something that happened so long ago?”

“We won’t know until we try. And we need to explore the possibilities until we receive your birth certificate.”

“What if we can’t get my actual certificate, only the adopted one?”

“Even more reason to do this now. Because our next stop will be contacting each of your relatives to see what he or she might know.”

She slumped in her seat. “The more I learn about this, the more overwhelming it seems.”

Seeing her pain, Mitch ignored his usual reserve and covered her hand. “That’s why I suggested you let me do this on my own. I realize you want to do everything in your power to speed things up, but for someone who’s not familiar with the search process, it can be pretty overwhelming, especially when it’s this personal.”

He could see her struggle, then her face softened subtly. “I suppose so.” She turned in the seat, leaning toward him, her body, face and voice all earnest. “But I can’t just sit by. Can you understand that?”

“Too well. But you’ll have to trust me to direct the investigation.”

“Funny.”

Starting the car, he glanced over at her. “What is?”

“That’s the second time today someone told me to trust.”

“Then maybe it’s time to listen.”

“Mmm.”

But he could feel she wasn’t convinced. Good thing that wasn’t his job. It was one assignment he didn’t think he wanted to tackle. Convincing Laura Kelly of anything other than what she wanted to believe would be a mammoth challenge. And one he didn’t need.

HOSPITAL RECORDS departments all appeared similar to Laura. Dry, boring places with seemingly endless supplies of paper. To think that buried within those reams of paper might be the solitary document they needed frightened her. The task of finding it felt nearly hopeless. But that didn’t deter Mitch Tucker. Efficient and capable, he didn’t appear intimidated by the sheer volume of information or the red tape it took to wade through it.

Still, Laura couldn’t ignore the ticking of her internal alarm system, one that was counting down the time they had left to learn the truth. Yet they managed to visit three hospitals.

Leaving St. Mark’s Hospital, Mitch drew in a deep breath of the humid air. “Can’t abide the smell of antiseptic. Don’t know how people can work in it all day.”

Laura shrugged. “They’re probably used to it. A person can get used to most anything after a while.”

Mitch didn’t look convinced. “Mmm. Why don’t we call it a day. We’ve—”

“What?” Halting, she pivoted to glare at him. “Tucker, you don’t understand. This isn’t like some of your other jobs. We have a pressing deadline! One that’s more important than your playtime.”

He held open the car door for her, his expression and voice remaining even. “We’ve been at it all day. I thought you might like to go and check on that little deadline.”

She blinked, then glanced at her watch. “It’s after six o’clock. I didn’t realize…”

“We covered a lot of ground today, Laura. It’s dinnertime. Why don’t you go home and I’ll head back to the office.”

“The office?”

“I want to check the national database search again, see if I missed anything. Then I need to follow up on some calls and go through the mail. Hopefully, there’ll be some solid leads.”

The breeze kicked up around them, straggling remains of the morning’s storm. Wind tugged at Laura’s hair and she pushed wayward strands away from her face. “But you need to eat dinner, too.”

“I’ll grab something.”

“A hamburger, no doubt,” she said, feeling guilty for her outburst. “That’s not a proper dinner after a long day.”

“I’m used to it.” He drew his brows together as he cocked his head, studying her skeptically. “Don’t tell me you’re concerned about my dining habits?” He shook his head slowly. “Or my welfare?”

Uncomfortable with his scrutiny and her own harsh words, Laura tossed back her hair. “Of course not. But I’m the one demanding the long hours.”

“Feeling guilty, Laura? That doesn’t sound like you. But then, I don’t suppose I know you well enough to say, do I?”

Uncomfortable, she edged back a bit. Ridiculously, ever since her disastrous divorce she had unplugged her radar for dealing with men. It felt safer to exist as a sexless nonplayer than to deal with any more hurt. Mitch Tucker was probably so used to the male-female dance that the motions were as automatic as breathing for him. She doubted he was even aware he was doing them. Laura was certain he’d be amazed to learn how ill at ease she was.

Edging even farther back, she all but fell into the car. “You’re right. We should be going.”

He still looked skeptical. “Did I say that?”

But he took the hint, closing her door, then crossing to the other door and sliding inside the vehicle.

When they reached Laura’s home, she hesitated. “Why don’t you join us for dinner.”

“With the formidable Mrs. Plummer?” He smiled. “Not really my style. But you and the little tiger have a good one.”

Once in the house, Laura shut the front door and leaned against it. Mitch Tucker’s presence was so intense she felt a moment’s relief. Then, oddly, the relief segued into letdown. It was absurd, she knew, yet she couldn’t easily shake the feeling.

Straightening, she gazed down the dimly lit hallway. While the house was as welcoming as it could be without the personal touches it needed, it had never seemed quite so lonely. Aggravated with herself, Laura shook her head. Her life was hardly lonely. She had Alex and even Mrs. Plummer. No, she wasn’t alone.

An interior door opened softly and crepe-soled shoes quietly approached. “I thought that might be you,” Mrs. Plummer greeted her. “I was checking on dinner—we have a nice roast.”

“Just for us?” Laura questioned, realizing she had little appetite.

“I always had a small family, and let me tell you, roasts are not only for crowds. Just because a body doesn’t have a dozen children, that’s no reason to skimp on dinner.”

“Did you ever regret having only one child, Mrs. Plummer?”

A bleak look flashed in the woman’s eyes. “Despite what people think, the number of children isn’t what counts. Like little Alex, one is perfect.”

Laura couldn’t prevent a smile. “Do you suppose all mothers of onlys feel this way?”

“I can’t speak for all mothers, but I know my Linda was perfect, just like your Alex.”

“You’re right, Mrs. Plummer. And since we almost had company for dinner your choice sounds a lot better than a frozen diet dinner or a can of soup.”

“Company?”

Laura half waved away the words. “No, I mean yes. Well, sort of. Just Mitch Tucker.”

“That investigator?”

Somehow Mrs. Plummer made the name sound faintly repugnant, and disapproval flavored her tone.

“That would be him. I made him work late, so I felt a little obligated to invite him to dinner.”

“A gentleman shouldn’t ever make a lady feel obligated.”

Laura held a twitching smile in place. The generation gap was showing. In fact, it was waving like a banner. “That’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Harrumph.”

“I think I’ll check on Alex. He’s awake, isn’t he?”

A warm smile transformed Mrs. Plummer’s face. “Yes, the little angel. I’ll put dinner on the table.”

Smiling, too, Laura headed for the nursery. At first, Alex didn’t hear her approach. His head was bent forward as he concentrated on the plastic blocks he held. A swatch of soft, dark hair fell across his forehead and his chubby face was furrowed as he tried to fit the plastic cubes together.

Laura’s heart constricted with love and she tried to banish the fear that crept in, as well. She had once heard that no one could understand the depth and enormity of love for a child until it was experienced. Now she knew that to be true.

Alex, sensing her presence, lifted his head, his face immediately creasing into a smile as he awkwardly crawled forward, reached for the top border of the playpen and pulled himself up.

“How’s my best boy?” she asked him, scooping him into her arms. She took his answering chortle as a greeting and bent to nuzzle his cheek.

After carrying him over to the rocker, she settled in, knowing it wasn’t long until his bedtime. Each day, each hour, was so incredibly precious. That this time might come to an end was inconceivable. While she wanted to spend every second on the investigation, she didn’t want to sacrifice one moment with little Alex. As the lump in her throat grew, she painfully acknowledged that she didn’t want to ever look back on this period and regret having not spent it with her son.

It was always during the later hours, in the night, that the doubts were the strongest. They sneaked in with the shadows when the absent sun could no longer banish them.

The rocker’s quiet creaking faded into the background as Laura recited a bedtime story. She had chosen a book from a nearby shelf, knowing it was one of Alex’s favorites. He loved to hear about animals—especially the rabbit.

As she often did at the end of storytime, Laura plucked a stuffed toy from the same overhead shelf, delighting Alex as she made the bunny’s ears wriggle. His laughter was pure joy for them both.

A wave of regret struck her, making her wonder yet again how her ex-husband could have simply walked away. Having such a child as Alex was like winning the greatest lottery of life, yet Kevin had dismissed him as though he were of no consequence.

She should almost have expected it, though. Kevin was an adventurous big talker, but a weak man. His charm had convinced her he was what she had been seeking all her life: a permanent connection, her soul mate.

That was why she had married him. She had wanted to believe him, wanted to think they would be together forever. But his actions had proved to be as empty as his words. Kevin was restless, easily bored. Seeking out “companionship” to relieve that boredom hadn’t taken him long. Laura’s marriage had been filled with humiliation and heartbreak.

The lesson had been hard learned, but she knew she would never trust another adventurer, especially one who attracted the ladies—like Mitch Turner. No, if there ever was a next time, she would find someone solid and reliable. Even then, however, she intended to keep standing on her own, not depending on anyone else again.

Laura gently rocked Alex, wondering anew how something so wonderful had come out of something so terrible. That it had made her feel eternally grateful. Alex snuggled closer, and if possible, Laura’s heart melted even more.

Mrs. Plummer’s sudden presence in the room seemed like an intrusion. “I have your dinner on the table,” she announced, moving nearer. Before Laura could protest, the older woman plucked Alex from her arms. “I’ll get this little one ready for bed.”

“I appreciate the concern, Mrs. Plummer, but since I’ve been away all day, I’d rather do that myself.”

The older woman sniffed. “That roast will be tougher than I am if we reheat it one more time.”

“I’ll risk it, Mrs. Plummer.” Gently, Laura retrieved her son. “I know you went to a great deal of trouble, but I’m really not that hungry.” She hitched Alex up a bit on her hip, brushing the top of his head with her chin. “And I don’t want to miss a minute more with this one than I absolutely have to.”

Mrs. Plummer’s expression softened slightly. “Can’t say as I blame you, my dear.” And she left them alone.

Laura treasured the moments with her son, even after Alex nodded off. She watched him for a while, enjoying the apparent normalcy. But finally she rose.

Unsettled and at loose ends, Laura roamed through the quiet house. Mrs. Plummer was staying late to use Laura’s computer. Poking her head into the refrigerator, Laura saw the evening’s meal tucked efficiently into plastic containers. But she didn’t feel like heating up anything. Truth was, she didn’t feel like eating alone. Impulsively, she glanced at her watch. It wasn’t late…yet.

Refusing to question her motives, she pulled out the roast and a loaf of fresh bread. To prepare two roast beef sandwiches and wrap them in foil took only a few minutes. After spotting the moist chocolate cake Mrs. Plummer had baked, she cut two generous slices and wrapped them, as well.

The bounty tucked into a canvas bag, Laura trotted down the hall to her study. “Mrs. Plummer, do you think you’ll be a while?”

The baby-sitter turned toward Laura. “Do you need to use your computer? I can finish this another time.”

“No, not at all. Actually, I’d like to run out for about an hour or so, but I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“Take as long as you want, Laura. This computer’s a lot for me to manage and I’d like to get a good start on organizing my recipes. I can work for several hours if you don’t mind.”

Although the possible sacrifice pained her, Laura smiled. “I can stay and help you with the computer.”

“No. If I don’t do it myself, I’ll never learn.”

“If you’re sure…”

“I am,” Mrs. Plummer replied firmly.

Unwilling to risk another offer that might be accepted, Laura retreated quickly and grabbed her car keys and purse.

Houston’s streets were never empty, but now the cars were no longer crammed end to end on the unyielding concrete. The giant city sprawled over more than four hundred square miles, so it was lucky Tucker’s office was located close by. That hadn’t been a consideration in choosing him, but it had been an unexpected bonus. She remembered thinking that it was fate’s hand that he was practically in the neighborhood. Now she wondered if fate was mocking her, sending her out in the night. Still, she didn’t turn around.

When she pulled into Tucker’s parking lot, the light was still on his office—as she’d suspected it would be. But she hadn’t expected the door to be locked. Perhaps he’d simply forgotten to switch off the light when he left, she decided, preparing to leave.

Before she took more than a few steps, the door burst open.

Startled, she dropped the canvas bag.

“Laura? What are you doing here?” Mitch’s exasperated voice washed over her.

Suddenly, she felt incredibly foolish. And beneath the glare of the overhead lights the white of the canvas bag gleamed between them.

Mitch crossed the threshold. As he passed through the doorway, she scrambled to retrieve the dropped dinner, but he was faster.

He held the bag out toward her, his eyes questioning her presence.

She accepted the bag, then swung it lightly. “This is going to sound really stupid, but I was worried that you wouldn’t eat a decent dinner, so I brought you a roast beef sandwich.”

He glanced at the oversize bag. “That must be one big sandwich.”

Laura was grateful for the darkness that camouflaged the telling warmth in her cheeks. “Actually, I brought enough for two.”

“Concerned about Morgan?”

“Who?”

His lips eased into an offhand grin. “My bird. He’s not much on roast beef, though.”

She strove for lightness. “No, but I am.”

Surprise flickered over his features, then faded. “Saving me from a life of burgers and pizza?”

Laura shrugged. “Do you need saving?”

For a moment the silence pulsed between them, tension building in the quiet dark. Then a sudden screech broke the mood. “Hello,” Morgan squawked.

Laura laughed, grateful for the bird’s interruption. “I brought chocolate cake, too. Mrs. Plummer’s finest. And a thermos of coffee.”

“You’ve convinced me.” He held open the door.

Self-conscious, Laura slid by, feeling the brush of hardened muscles, the taut measure of long legs. For an instant she considered lingering, then rushed on. She’d only made him a sandwich, she reminded herself. Nothing to get so riled up about.

Still, her stomach churned as she wandered inside the office, and she felt uncertain now that she was here. Mitch, however, was as relaxed as she was uncomfortable.

He swept the papers from a scarred coffee table, which rested in front of an equally disreputable-looking sofa, and they both sat down.

She frowned. “I hope those weren’t important.”

“Not nearly as important as home-cooked roast beef.”

Laura’s expression brightened. “So, I’m not intruding?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Chagrined, Laura grabbed for her purse.

But Mitch’s hand stopped hers. “I’m still misreading you, I see. I thought you could take a little joke. So where’s this world-famous roast beef?”

Laura released her grip on her purse, realizing once again how badly she was out of practice in dealing with men. “I didn’t say it was world famous, simply home-cooked.”

“In my book, one and the same.”

“Don’t tell me you’re lacking in attention,” she scoffed.

His grin was again easy and mocking. “Depends on the kind of attention you’re talking about.”

Some of her humor faded. Yet she knew he was a charmer, a man who loved women as much as they loved him. It shouldn’t prevent her from sharing a simple supper with him. Keeping that in mind, she shored up her smile. “I don’t think you and Morgan lead a solitary existence. No doubt you have more attention than you need.”

“You might be surprised.”

The words startled her and for a moment she saw past the usual nonchalance in his expression. Within seconds, though, his easy smile was back in place, and she wondered if she had imagined the earlier change. Unwilling to explore the thought further, she opened the sack and pulled out the sandwiches, fussing over them more than necessary.

Mitch played along, digging into the impromptu dinner. “This beats the pizza I’d planned on ordering.”

Laura nodded. “I guessed as much.” Remembering the coffee, she took out the thermos from the bag. “Oh, I forgot to bring cups.”

“I’m not completely without creature comforts. There should be something to drink out of around here.” Mitch rose and searched for cups, tossing aside a box of petrified doughnuts. The mugs he retrieved looked a bit worse for wear, but Laura decided she needed the bracing warmth of some coffee. He sat down again and twisted off the lid of the thermos, and in an instant the tang of fresh coffee filled the small space between them.

Mitch poured coffee into the mugs, then sampled the brew. “I get so used to my own sludge, I forget how good coffee tastes. Mrs. Plummer must really be a treasure.”

Laura shifted on the sofa. “Actually, I made the coffee. Mrs. Plummer’s coffee tastes like it has part of the pot in it.”

He laughed. “I should have remembered. I’ve had your coffee before.”

Instantly Laura remembered the morning in his apartment. She also remembered his casual threat about disturbing him again before breakfast. Squirming, she shifted even farther down the couch.

“You keep that up and you’ll end up on the floor.”

Laura blinked. Then the absurdity struck her and she couldn’t contain an embarrassed giggle. “I guess you could say I’m not real comfortable around men.”

“No kidding.”

So he’d noticed. Laura clasped her hands, stopping their nervous motion. Silent moments passed, but finally she spoke. “You know from what I’ve told you that my ex-husband was a jerk.”

“That’s a mild term,” he commented. “I wouldn’t be so generous.”

She grimaced in agreement. “So don’t take it personally.”

Mitch abandoned his interest in the sandwich. “Don’t take what personally?”

Laura gestured vaguely. She knew it wasn’t an answer, but damn, how had she cornered herself this way?

“I don’t read shrugs,” he countered.

She sighed. “This is silly. I shouldn’t have even said anything, especially since we’re only working together.” Meeting his eyes, she saw that he was waiting for further explanation. “I’m just not comfortable with certain types of men.”

“Oh?” Although his voice was still mild, a new note had crept in, one she couldn’t completely decipher.

“It’s just that because of my experience I’m not comfortable with men like…” From the expression on his face, Laura realized her words were a mistake, yet she couldn’t recall them.

“Me?” he said flatly, completing her sentence.

Stomach sinking, Laura wished she hadn’t broached the subject. “As I said, don’t take it personally.”

“You know another way to take it?”

Laura pushed her half-eaten sandwich away. “I’m sure you know a bevy of women who are far more than comfortable with you.”

“Bevy?” he questioned in disbelief.

She squirmed anew. “I don’t know about you, but I was really enjoying our dinner until I opened my mouth.”

“It would be hard to enjoy the dinner otherwise,” he commented, his light tone signaling acceptance of her proffered olive branch.

Laura smiled, noting again the wealth of charm the man possessed. No wonder so many women were interested in him. She ignored the lump in her stomach the thought caused. To find him attractive was natural, she supposed. After all, they were spending a lot of time together. And proximity was an influential factor in many male-female relationships. Laura nearly laughed aloud. As though she knew much about that. Then her gaze caught his and the laughter died away.

Busying herself with the remainder of the sandwich, Laura was startled when Mitch’s hand closed over hers, though not nearly as startled by the movement as by the reaction it caused.

Catching her breath, she stared at his strong, tanned hand.

“Laura, relax. A man and woman can spend time together without anything more exciting than a sandwich between them.”

“Oh,” she managed to croak.

“Unless you count the chocolate cake,” he added with a mocking leer.

Laura remembered to breathe, but she still felt shaky. “And Mrs. Plummer’s cake is pretty darn exciting.”

“Thank God. I thought this was a ploy to get me to work all night.”

Sobered, Laura stared at him. “Did you really think that?”

“Hell, did you have your humor surgically removed, Laura? I’m trying to lighten the mood. In case you hadn’t noticed, it got pretty heavy in here.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

He tipped up her chin, meeting her eyes. “Then work with me. Laugh a little.”

Once again, Laura had to control the nervous motion of her hands. “There hasn’t been much to laugh about lately.”

“Yeah, but that’s what we’re going to change, isn’t it?”

Laura’s throat tightened. “This has been a solo battle for so long, it’s nice to have someone else on my team.”

He saluted sharply. “And I’m a hell of a team player.” His gaze roved around the run-down office. “This place may not look like it, but you’ve got the best investigator in town.”

“Humble, too, Tucker?”

“That’s the Laura I know.”

She laughed, a shaky but genuine sound. “I’ve been kind of pushy, huh?”

He paused, and a kind light shone in his eyes. “Not so that it shows.”

Pleased, Laura again concentrated on her sandwich, and for the next few minutes they shared a companionable supper. She was surprised but pleased by the easy silences and the equally easy conversation.

“This cake is wicked,” Laura declared, nibbling at the crumbs.

“Agreed.”

Glancing up, Laura saw that Mitch was wearing some of the frosting on his lower lip. Giggling, she pointed out the errant chocolate. When he swiped at it and missed, she brushed her fingers over the spot.

Mitch’s eyes met hers.

She froze.

It was a little thing, really. Just a dab of chocolate frosting on his lips. Lips that beckoned beneath her touch.

Mitch’s head bent toward hers and she anticipated the taste of those same lips.

The strident ring of the phone made her bolt.

Mitch was cursing beneath his breath even as he rose to answer the call.

“Yes.” Annoyance was clear in his tone as he answered. He listened, then passed a hand over his hair. “Sorry, Christie. Nah, nothing’s wrong. Just working late.”

Laura stiffened. Of course the caller was a woman. What had she expected? Mitch Tucker was a connoisseur of the opposite sex, and it wasn’t wise to ever lose sight of the fact.