Читать книгу Something's Gotta Give - Teresa Southwick, Teresa Southwick - Страница 8

“Excuse me?” Jamie’s eyes grew wide with surprise. “‘Not so fast’? This is my office and I can do things at any speed I choose. And I choose for you to hit the road. Don’t let the door hit you in the fanny on the way out.”

“I’d like nothing better than to shake your hand, say, It’s been nice but I’ve got places to go and people to see, you should have a good life.”

“But?”

“But I can’t. And there are two very good reasons.” Sam watched her gaze narrow.

“Such as?”

“Number one—no matter how unfair it is, I’m under a court-mandated sentence to perform community service.”

“And number two?” she asked.

“Your parents believe there’s a threat to your safety.”

“My parents believe I’m at risk unless I’m with them or at home with padlocks on the doors and windows.”

Funny, he thought. Her parents had told him she’d be stubborn. And she was. But they’d neglected to mention that she was beautiful. And she definitely was.

Brunette curls brushed her shoulders and framed her oval face dominated by big hazel eyes with thick, dark lashes. She wasn’t very tall, maybe five-one or-two and slender, which tapped into the protective streak he tried to ignore. He’d protect her, but it wouldn’t get personal. And he didn’t even want to get started on the slight indentation in her chin that might be a shadow but begged for a more-thorough investigation. Exploration of that particular area, or any area for that matter, wasn’t going to happen.

He stared down at her. “If I learned anything as a cop, it’s not to take any threat too lightly.” The lesson had been costly. His best friend’s sister had paid with her life. If he made the mistake again, what happened to her would all have been a waste, and he could never find a way to live with that.

“Look, Sam, you’re right about my parents. They’re lovely, caring people. But if you’re their daughter, those qualities are a double-edged sword.”

“Oh?”

Here it comes, he thought. Lawyer spin. He folded his arms over his chest and rested a hip against her desk, settling in for the long haul. At least the view was good, he thought, letting his gaze trace the defined curves and fullness of her mouth.

She cleared her throat. “When I was a kid, I practically had to get a dispensation from the pope to go out on a date, and even then, until I was over eighteen, my father either came along or shadowed us in his car.”

“You don’t say.”

“Then I insisted on going away to college, thinking I’d leave and find some independence.”

“And you didn’t?”

“A little. But they rented an apartment near campus and one or both of them were there a lot of the time. If they didn’t have a restaurant to run, they’d probably have gone to class with me.” She sighed. “I adore my mother and father, but their meddling reached the saturation point. And I’m sure they’d have followed me to New York if they could have found a way.”

“New York?” He noticed something about her. A subtle change.

“After law school, I went to work for a firm in New York.” She shrugged. “It looks good on a résumé.”

Uh-huh. As a detective, he’d done more interviews than the Human Resources Department at a Fortune 500 company. He’d found body language as revealing as dialogue. And when Jamie mentioned moving to the Big Apple, a look in her eyes, tightening around her mouth, told him there was more to it than beefing up her work history. It was personal. And he wanted to know about the guy, but he let it go. For now.

Besides, she was preaching to the choir on this overprotective thing. As far as the Gibson family looking out for her, he was an innocent bystander who’d got sucked in. Well, maybe not lily-white innocent, but almost. He didn’t even care that the money paid for his community service was going for a good cause. He intended to do his time and get the hell out of town. No harm, no foul.

“Are you finished?” he asked. “With lawyers, sometimes it’s kind of hard to tell.”

“I could be.”

“How will I know?”

She picked up a pen and tapped it on the pile of papers in front of her. “Are you convinced my folks are overreacting and that I have no need for a bodyguard?”

“I’m convinced that your family went to considerable trouble and expense to make sure nothing happens to you for the next thirty days.”

“Okay, so you get it—”

He held up his hand and straightened to his full height. “I also know for a fact that I assured Roy and Louise that on my watch, I will do everything humanly possible to find out who’s harassing you.”

She stared at him for several moments. “Was I talking to myself? We don’t know there is anyone harassing me. So any investigation would be a waste of time.”

“But it’s the court’s time, purchased by your parents.”

“Without my knowledge or consent.”

She stood and stared him down—eye to eye. Well, not technically. He towered over her, but the glare she was giving him canceled out any height advantage.

“So, what we have here is a standoff,” she said.

“Stalemate. Deadlock, draw, impasse,” he agreed. “I’d say something’s gotta give.”

“I’m not going to blink.”

“Me, neither.”

She put her hands on her hips. “When this happens in court, we go to mediation.”

“I’m not going in front of Uncle Harry again, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Her mouth twitched as she fought a smile. “I was thinking we should go in front of my folks at the restaurant.”

“And do what?” he asked suspiciously.

“Get them to give you absolution. Release you from this obligation.”

It would be a waste of time. Jamie got her stubborn gene from one or both of them. He knew that because he’d tried to tell Roy and Louise he wasn’t the right man for this job. They refused to believe him after Hayden Blackthorn’s glowing reference. But he was getting nowhere here. So…

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay,” she agreed.

He waited for her to gather up her jacket, purse and briefcase before they left and locked her door. At the end of the hall a man stood in an office doorway.

“Jamie, are you leaving?”

“Hi, Al. Yeah. Something’s come up.”

Al considered Sam. “Is he a friend of yours?”

“Sam Brimstone,” Sam said, holding out his hand.

“Al Moore.”

The guy had up-and-comer written all over him. Young, good-looking, a firm aggressive handshake. And Sam didn’t like him.

“Al’s an attorney here at the firm,” Jamie explained.

“I thought we were firm friends, too.”

“Of course,” she said, shaking her head at his pun. “You’re always there for me.”

“Good to know.” He looked at Sam. “People make the job, and friendships are what make the long hours tolerable.”

“Isn’t that the truth?” she agreed.

Al grinned, the effects of his white strips so bright, Sam was tempted to whip out his shades. And again he picked up a whole lot of unspoken communication from body language and what Slick didn’t say. This guy wanted Jamie, and there was nothing friendly about it. Lust—pure and simple. It glowed in his eyes, and the tension was there in every muscle in his twenty-four-hour-fitness toned body.

Sam really didn’t like this guy.

It wasn’t jealousy, he told himself. He barely knew Jamie, certainly not well enough to be jealous of her coworker. And he didn’t want to know her better because a detective should never get personal with a person involved in a case.

She looked at the watch on her wrist. “Well, we have to be going.”

Al slid his hands into the pockets of his tailored slacks. “So where are the two of you headed?”

“Dinner,” Sam said, putting his palm at the small of her back, the gesture intimate, but only to urge her forward.

The guy’s smile disappeared faster than you could say “teeth bleach,” and Sam felt a surge of satisfaction that told him he really had to work on that SOB thing. And he would. Real soon, he thought, escorting Jamie to the elevator.

Jamie drove to the restaurant with Sam on her tail in his sleek, black Mustang. They went into The Homestead through a back entrance, and she knew Sam was following her, this time on foot. Even if she hadn’t heard the heavy sound of his boots behind her, she could just feel him. His presence raised the hair on the back of her neck and tingles everywhere else. Back in her office, she’d sworn he was staring at her mouth. But she was probably wrong. He’d stopped in town to say hello to a friend, and her family had turned his life upside down. Why in the world would he be thinking about kissing her?

She turned a corner and poked her head into the room her folks used as an office. As usual, paperwork was scattered around the computer on each of the two desks facing each other from opposite walls. Two desks, two computers, and neither of her parents was anywhere in sight.

“They must be out front working,” she said.

“Do they always leave the back door unlocked?”

His body was so close behind her she could almost feel his chest against her back and the vibrations of his deep voice. There was no mistaking the disapproval in his tone.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“Anyone could have walked in and helped themselves to anything in here, including the picture of you that your parents told me was stolen.”

“Even if it was locked, this place is so busy at lunch and dinnertime that it would be easy to slip back here unnoticed.”

“I need to have a talk with them about security.”

Before she could respond, there were footsteps in the hall. Sam moved farther into the room and stood beside her, just before her parents appeared in the doorway.

“Jamie.” Her mother held out her arms, and Jamie went into them.

“Hi, Mom.” She gave her father a quick, hard hug. “Dad. You already know Sam.”

“Louise. Roy,” he said.

They shook hands, Sam towering over the other man, Jamie noticed. Roy and Louise Gibson were like a matched set, one complementing the other—both small and round and solid and comfortable. Her mother’s short brown hair was shot with red highlights to cover the gray. What hair her father had left encircling his head was gray. He always said he’d earned every single one worrying about his only daughter. They were both dressed for the evening crowd—her father in a navy suit and red tie, her mother in a long-sleeved black knit dress and matching low-heeled shoes.

“I see you and Sam have met,” her father said.

Jamie huffed out a breath, then leaned against her mother’s littered desk, folding her arms over her chest.

Before she could say anything, her mother asked, “So, why are you upset?”

“Let me count the ways,” she mumbled.

“What?” Her mother’s expression grew wary.

Jamie shot Sam a look that said this was all his fault, then cocked a thumb in his direction. “You guys have some explaining to do.”

Her mother sighed. “We have a nice quiet table in a cozy corner. How about we sit down, have something to eat. Maybe a nice glass of wine. We can talk.”

“I don’t want food. I don’t want wine. I want some answers.” She glanced at them both. “So?”

Louise shrugged, clearly unapologetic. “So, we bought him at the auction.”

“What were you thinking?” Jamie asked.

Roy moved beside her and put his arm around her shoulders. “He’s a detective from Los Angeles.”

“Used to be,” Sam clarified.

In the doorway, he casually rested a shoulder against the door frame, as if he was holding it up. As wide as his shoulders were, he almost could. A man in the prime of his life, yet he’d left LAPD. Why? Jamie wondered.

“Whatever,” her father said. “L.A.’s loss is our gain. For thirty days we don’t have to worry about our little girl.”

Jamie struggled to keep the irritation from her voice. “You don’t have to worry about me at all. And I’m not a little girl.”

She made the mistake of looking at Sam as she said that. Something sparked in his eyes, a very male response that confirmed he agreed she was all grown-up. It was almost enough to distract her, but not quite.

“You’ll always be little to us,” her mother was saying. “We’re your parents. We changed your diapers—”

“Okay.” Jamie held up a hand. On the upside, at least all the naked baby pictures were at their house. “No one’s arguing about the family connection. But you guys have got to stop treating me like a china doll.”

“We’re just concerned. Maybe he can figure out who’s harassing you and make them stop,” Roy said. “He finds perps. It’s what he does.”

“Used to,” Sam said again.

“Dad, you’ve been watching too many cop shows on TV.” Jamie sighed. Maybe she should approach this from a different direction. “So why didn’t you guys tell me what you’d done?”

The folks exchanged a guilty look. “Didn’t your receptionist tell you I called?” her mother asked.

“Yes. But—”

“You could have called back.”

“You could have tried my cell. Since when do you go through the switchboard?”

“I think maybe cell phone reception isn’t so good in your office.”

“Since when?” Jamie demanded.

“I tried,” her mother said. “Apparently you were busy today.”

“I’m busy every day and I always get your calls. You guys aren’t very good fibbers. You’re so busted.”

“Okay.” Louise met her gaze. “We went ahead and bid on him at the auction, but we knew you’d say no.”

“And just turned him loose on me without warning?” she scolded, then met Sam’s gaze. He’d been a victim in all this, too. Although the humor glittering in his eyes didn’t make him look very victimlike.

“We didn’t want to hear how you don’t need anything and can take care of yourself.” Louise looked at Sam. “She’s our miracle child. We tried for years and couldn’t get pregnant—”

“Mom—”

“He should know how we feel,” she defended. “Just when we gave up trying—to have a baby,” she clarified. “We didn’t give up sex.”

“Too much information, Mom.”

Just shoot me now, Jamie thought, her cheeks warm with humiliation. Then she made the mistake of looking at Sam again. Amusement cranked up several notches in his eyes. At least someone was having a good time here.

“That’s when it happened,” her mother continued. “We were pregnant. Then she was born. Our little girl. Our very own miracle.”

“Look, guys, I don’t need a bodyguard. Everything is normal—”

“Did you tell Sam about the hang ups in the middle of the night?” Louise asked.

“Yes. And for the record, I’m sorry I ever mentioned it to you guys,” Jamie mumbled.

“If that were the only thing,” Roy said, “we’d chalk it up to kids. But someone took her picture. I don’t like it.”

“Any idea who’d do that?” Sam asked.

Roy shrugged and shook his head. “Lunch and dinner are usually pretty busy at The Homestead. Anyone in town could have slipped in and out of this office without being seen.”

“Or through the back door,” Sam said.

“What?” Her father tensed.

“We walked right in the back,” Sam explained.

Her parents looked at each other. “It’s supposed to be locked all the time,” Roy said.

“Maybe we’ve been a little careless about that,” Louise admitted. “We’ll be better. But your father is right. We don’t like it. And just because you’re not a little girl, that doesn’t mean you don’t need someone to look out for you.”

Jamie sighed. “Look, you guys, I’m fine. You don’t have to be concerned about me.”

“It’s what fathers do, sweetheart.” Her dad gave her shoulder a squeeze. “They watch over their children and make sure they’re all right. Always.”

Jamie happened to be looking at Sam and saw the “yeah, right” expression on his face. What did that mean?

“I know you can’t help being protective, Dad, but I don’t need Sam hanging around. The police checked everything out and there’s no problem anymore.”

“It’s out of our hands,” Louise interjected. “The auction is his community service.”

“Thanks to Uncle Harry,” Sam said dryly.

Jamie didn’t want to debate that issue. “I’m sure there’s another way for Sam to do his community service.”

“It’s a done deal,” Louise said. “We paid the auction people already.”

“That’s right,” Jamie said, snapping her fingers. “You bought and paid for him. How about he does his time working for you here at the restaurant? Maybe he can dust that empty frame for fingerprints and figure out who stole the photo.”

“No way.” Louise shook her head.

“Or he can beef up the security,” she suggested.

“We bought him for you, sweetheart,” her father said.

“What if I don’t want him?”

“Way to make a guy feel warm and fuzzy,” Sam said, one side of his mouth quirking up.

“She’s not always so ungrateful,” Louise apologized. “Usually she’s gracious and considerate.”

“Usually I don’t have bodyguards showing up unannounced in my office,” she said defensively. “Really, Mom, Dad—”

Suddenly Roy put a hand to his chest and began to massage the muscle.

“Dad? Are you okay?”

“Just a little pressure. It happens.”

Sure it does, she thought. Her father was like the Rock of Gibraltar.

“He’s not getting any younger,” Louise said, looking worried. “And life is full of stress. Sometimes it’s worse than others and you learn to deal with it. We found a way to help you and at the same time do some good for the town—”

“The town that lives up to its name,” Sam cut in.

Jamie didn’t miss the sarcasm. “Listen, you guys, just—”

“No,” Roy said in his I’m-the-dad-and-this-is-the-last-straw voice. “You’re young, Jamie. Your mother and I know what’s best. We have more life experience. You moved away once, against our better judgment, I might add. We never liked Stu, but you wouldn’t listen. And we weren’t there to watch over you. And all you said when you moved home was that things didn’t work out with him. So now you’re back and we could watch out for you except you bought a house outside of town and you’re all alone there.” He took a breath as he continued to absently rub his chest. “Either you take Sam for the time we bought, or you move home and save your mother and me the stress of worrying that you’re all right.”

Her father was giving ultimatums. He did that when he got really upset, and Jamie felt a twinge of guilt. She had moved away to be with a guy she’d believed loved her and she’d done it in spite of her parents’ disapproval. Turns out they’d been right about him. But she’d survived and picked up some of her own life experience.

She loved her folks, overprotective and all. She wouldn’t hurt them for the world, but she simply couldn’t move back home and start fighting for her independence all over again. She’d told Sam she wouldn’t blink, but apparently she’d spoken too soon. Something had to give and apparently it was her.

“Okay. Bodyguard it is.”

She met Sam’s gaze and felt a flush on her face that spread clear through her. The thought of him guarding her body sent a shiver down her spine that was…excitement? Anticipation? Thrill? After the life experience she’d gained, she hoped and prayed it wasn’t any of the above. Otherwise the next thirty days were going to be hell.