Which meant that he had to get a grip on his fantasies right now.
Tess thrust a cup into his hands and sat down at the table. “Try that for coffee,” she challenged, her eyes glinting.
He took a gulp. Chocolate and cinnamon, he thought as the white froth on top teased his lips. “Not bad,” he admitted.
“Liar. That’s as close as anyone can expect to get to paradise in this life.”
His eyes narrowed. “Oh, I can think of a few different ways.” Flipping a chair around, he straddled it and rested his forearms on the back.
For a moment, just a moment, color filled her face. Then she swung around to fill her own cup.
There was something oddly intimate in sitting across from Tess at the table while sunlight streamed through the open windows, leaving sparks in her coppery hair. As her knee brushed his, T.J. swallowed hard and tried to control his short-circuiting nervous system.
“Do you always pay catering bills in your sleep?” he asked, giving her time to wake fully before telling her about his conversation with Andrew.
“Sometimes.” Tess toyed with her coffee. “Things get intense during a big project. Sometimes I can’t turn my work off. My boss is very supportive, but he gives me lots of responsibility, and that makes for high pressure and stress. Lately we’ve branched out into the high-end cruise business, and on top of that I just received an international chocolate account. But a good PR campaign helps a client focus on their unique skills as well as their long-term planning. We have to help them see where they want to go and exactly how to get there.” She sat back with a sigh. “Now, aren’t you completely bored?”
“Don’t apologize because you care about what you do.” T.J. lingered over her smooth, rich coffee. “Or because you’re good at your job.”
“How do you know that?”
He saw her hands tighten. McCall realized his answer mattered deeply to her. “First, because you think fast on your feet. Second, because you seem to genuinely like people. Most of all because you love to ask questions—the more irritating, the better.”
Tess colored slightly. “Hello? Have I just tuned into the Psychic Network?”
“Simple process of deduction, Duchess. You make people feel special when you listen to them.” T.J.’s smile faded slowly.
“What’s wrong?”
He had played and replayed this conversation, but somehow the preparation didn’t help. He couldn’t delay telling her the things she needed to know. “I talked to your brother this morning, Tess. He’s had some news.”
“Have they traced the money?” she asked stiffly.
T.J. shook his head. “Andrew says they’ve isolated two similar account transactions. One was in Seattle, and one in Atlanta. They’re digging for more details, but they don’t want to tip their hand too soon, in case they send warning signals.”
T.J. rose to pace the room. “One of the transfers went to a man in Atlanta. He got a surprise in his account, too—only his deposit was for ten million dollars.” T.J. rubbed the back of his neck. “The fool went on a spending spree and left a trail a mile wide when he did it.”
Tess’s hands tightened on her coffee cup. “Where is he now?”
“There’s no use in jumping to conclusions.”
“Where is he?”
T.J. braced his palms on the table in front of her. “The man vanished last night. No one has been able to contact him.”
But it was just a matter of time until he was found, T.J. thought grimly. More likely dead than alive.
Tess looked down, stirring the froth in her coffee. “What happened to the person in Seattle?”
“Nothing so far. He’s still under constant surveillance. Andrew didn’t want to put you through that so he convinced the authorities to let you stay here—as long as you’re under my protection.”
“And that means I’m safe?”
“Safe enough.”
Tess gave a shaky laugh. “You seem to be going to a lot of trouble to convince me there’s no real problem, but I’m not buying it. You’re a poor liar, Sheriff. Your eyes go all flat when you say something you don’t believe. That’s how they look right now,” she whispered.
T.J. hesitated, then covered her hand with his. “It doesn’t mean anything, Tess. The man in Atlanta could show up tomorrow, good as new.”
“He could also show up good as dead.”
“There’s no way to know that.”
“Don’t lie to me, T.J. Never lie to me.”
“Okay, you’re right. It’s a bad sign.” He drew a raw breath. “We won’t know exactly how bad without more information.”
Tess pushed back slowly from the table. “I want to talk to my brother right now.”
T.J. started to protest, then realized she had every right to more information. “Be my guest,” he said, pointing to the cordless phone on the counter.
But he didn’t leave as she dialed, or even later while she bent over the pine table in the dining room, her eyes narrowed. T.J. saw the strain that filled her face and the small tapping movements she made with her hand on the polished wood. She asked Andrew a few questions and listened intently, then hung up.
“So, that’s the long and short of it. Man reports finding millions of dollars. Man vanishes.”
“You left out one major point. Man spends a big part of the money,” T.J. said flatly.
“I spent a good deal of my money, too,” Tess reminded him grimly. “In the wrong quarters that could be a cause for unpleasantness.”
“No one is getting past me, Tess. Just remember that. You aren’t alone in this.”
“I feel alone,” she said softly. “I keep wishing the whole problem would go away. But it won’t, will it?”
“No.”
Tess stared at him. “Tell me the rest.”
“Chances are that things will get worse. But nothing will happen to you. I give you my word on that.”
“I don’t frighten easily, T.J. I’m an organized person and I’m usually disgustingly optimistic.”
“You will be again,” he said.
“Will I? This place has left me wondering who I am. Part of the problem is the strange dreams I’ve been having. They disrupt my sense of order and good sense.”
“What kind of dreams?” T.J. asked carefully, remembering her odd behavior in the old jail.
“It’s as if I were here, but in a different time.” Her voice trailed off as she shook her head. “They don’t really seem like dreams, yet what else could they be?”
“Any number of things,” he said. He’d had his share of strange dreams, too, but he figured they were part of the general turmoil Tess had caused in him since the moment he’d first seen her. He decided it would be a good idea to change the subject. “And what’s the other part of the problem?”
She shrugged. “You. You make me edgy. You also make me want things I’ve never wanted before.”
“What kind of things?”
“Quiet dinners. Cooking.” She swallowed. “Maybe more than that.”
As she spoke, a wave of wanting hit him. So much for changing the subject.
McCall wondered why he’d ever thought she was stiff or aloof. There was nothing aloof about Tess. She was all soft skin and lingering perfume, and the sight of her mouth made him think of ripe raspberries. He wanted to skim his way down her neck, then explore lower—
He cursed softly, knowing that touching her would be the worst thing he could do.
No doubt about it. The sooner Andrew got this mess straightened out so Tess could go back to her warp-speed life in Boston, the better.
12
When T.J. walked down the hall, he found Maria standing in the kitchen with her hands on her hips.
“Señor McCall, you should not be awake so early on your day off. And why did you not call me to make your breakfast?” Maria tied her apron, giving T.J. a chiding look, followed by an accusing glare at Tess. “You were up worrying all night, I think. Always you worry, as you did
over my son when he gets involved with those smugglers and goes to jail. You worried until you went down to Mexico and brought him here—I still do not know how you managed to take him from that terrible place.” She shook her head as she pulled eggs, vegetables, and tortillas from the refrigerator. Then she fixed Tess with another glare, the story a warning.
“Maria,” T.J. warned.
“No, do not tell me to stop. The señorita does not know how you stay awake for many nights when you worry. She does not know how far you go to do right.”
So that was it. Maria thought he was up early because of this woman sleeping under his roof. She was in mother-hen mode, wanting to protect him from a conniving female. But then, Maria had been there when T.J. had been involved with a journalist and damn near ran himself into the ground traveling back and forth between Almost and L.A.
“Where is your son now, Maria?” Tess asked gently before T.J. could interrupt.
“The señor sent him to school. Now my son owns six grocery stores in New Mexico, and I have four beautiful grandchildren,” Maria said proudly.
T.J. swiped the back of neck, avoiding Tess’s raised brows. She didn’t seem to be surprised by the news.
“Smooth your feathers, Maria,” he muttered, annoyed at being cornered by two females in his own house. “Ms. O’Mara’s brother is a friend of mine. He sent her down here because she might be in danger. No one you don’t know personally is to be allowed in the house and Tess will be with either me or one of my deputies at all times. If you have any questions you should call me immediately.”
“The señorita is trouble, I am thinking,” Maria said, shaking her head.
“Aren’t all women?” T.J. countered.
Maria threw up her hands and rushed out as the bell clanged in the outer courtyard.
T.J. scowled at his watch, wondering who could be downstairs at this hour. He had his answer even before Maria ushered in his guest. The low, off-key whistling could only be Grady’s.
“If this isn’t a certifiable emergency,” T.J. drawled, “I just might have to shoot you.”
Grady chuckled. “Nice words for a colleague and old friend.” He grinned at T.J. “Maybe you’re feeling poorly because you didn’t sleep too well last night. On account of your visitor and all.” He nodded in greeting to Tess.
“I slept just fine,” T.J. lied. “Now, do you want some coffee or are you going to stand here jawing?”
“I’ll take the coffee, but only if Tess or Maria made it. That brew of yours isn’t fit to feed a cow.”
In the kitchen, Maria frowned at Tess’s cappuccino machine, studying it from every angle. “You are out of luck if you want coffee from this, Señor Grady. No one comes into my kitchen when I cook.” Picking up her simple percolator, she filled it with water, added coffee to the basket, and plugged it in. “You will settle for my coffee, which will be finished in a few minutes.”
“Good enough. Just so it doesn’t get up and walk around, I’ll be happy.” Grady frowned at Tess. “You look worn out. He didn’t do anything to you, I hope.”
T.J. gave a disgusted sigh. “I didn’t do a thing to her, Grady. She had a long drive and then she suffered heatstroke, remember?”
“I’m fine,” Tess said, sounding distracted.
“I guess you’re right. There was also that excitement with your man friend who got himself arrested.”
“You want to run that past me again?” T.J. said, sitting up straighter.
“She told me the fellow she was involved with turned out to be a criminal, and that’s why she had to go on the run. Not that I’d dream of mentioning the truth to anyone else. She told me it was a strict secret until the investigation is finished.”
Maria mumbled something under her breath and shook her head as she cracked eggs into a bowl.
“She told you all that, did she?” T.J. said, intrigued.
Tess regarded him with a level stare and a closed mouth.
Grady nodded, helping himself to a chocolate doughnut from a carton beneath his arm, then pushing the box across to T.J. and Tess.
What had made the woman concoct such a damned fool story? And if there was even a grain of truth to it, he’d find the man and tear him into tiny pieces.
He looked up to find Grady studying him intently. “What?”
“Just wondering, that’s all.”
T.J. took a gulp of his coffee and grimaced. “Wondering what?”
“Why you two were kissing inside the old jail last night.”
“We weren’t kissing.” McCall and Tess spoke in unison.
“I’ve got six witnesses who say you were.”
“Doc Felton being one, I suppose.” T.J. ran a hand through his hair. “The man can’t see across a room with his bifocals on. Mae isn’t much better.”
“That would explain two. Tom Martinez tells me you were snuggled up mighty close last night before you left the office.”
“His shirt was caught on my dress,” Tess said quickly.
“Must have been a trick of the shadows.” T.J. said at exactly the same time.
Grady sat back, measuring the general uneasiness. “So what exactly is going on between the two of you?”
Maria slammed down two cups of coffee on the pine table. “Yes, you will please to tell me what is going on also.”
T.J. gestured toward Tess. “I’m the sheriff; that little lady there might be a possible target of a crime. Other than that, nothing’s going on, and I’d appreciate it if you’d stop digging for news where none exists.” He eyed the brown paper bag Grady had set on the table with the box of doughnuts. “What’s in there?”
Why was Tess so quiet, he wondered. He’d expected a sharp comeback—in fact, he’d wanted one.
But she simply gave him a tight smile.
“Mae’s cheesecake,” Grady said around a swallow of coffee. “It’s chocolate pistachio swirl today. She put in some barbecue ribs left over from the café last night. She thought you two might be hungry.”
T.J. rubbed his jaw, anticipating another glare from Maria if he so much as peeked inside the bag and sniffed. “Maybe for lunch. I’m primed and ready for Maria’s huevos.”
“Hmppph.” Still sniffing, Maria carried in plates mounded with omelettes, biscuits, gravy, and sausages. Whisking the bag away, she muttered in Spanish about unhealthy breakfasts and how typical of a man to eat such things in the morning. “You will die young if you are not careful, and this would be a great pity,” she added in English.
T.J. was too distracted by Tess’s calm to comment. Why was she so damned quiet? And why hadn’t she denied that she’d been involved with a criminal?
Personally involved.
T.J.’s fingers drummed on the table. She smiled at him and took a bite of omelette and chiles.
The whole story was a product of her imagination—it had to be. But suddenly T.J. seemed to have lost his appetite. He rubbed his jaw and pushed away from the table, ignoring Tess and Grady as he strode outside.
T.J. was still pacing the courtyard ten minutes later when Mae’s bright red pickup truck rumbled over the wash. T.J. had visitors at the ranch once or twice a week, but now he was starting to feel suspicious. He went to the gate, his hands on his hips.
“If you’re looking for Grady, you just missed him.” He gestured to the dirt blowing over the narrow, curved road.
“I’m not looking for Grady.” Mae shot a glance over T.J.’s shoulder toward the house. “Just thought I’d check to see how things were going. And I forgot to send you some potato salad with those ribs.” She held up another brown paper bag.
“Things are fine,” he muttered. “Any reason they shouldn’t be?”
“None that I know.” She studied T.J. keenly. “How does Tess like the ranch?”
T.J. noted that Mae, too, was on a first-name basis with Tess. “How about some coffee?”
Her eyes brightened. “You happen to have one of those cappuccino things that Ms. O’Mara makes?”
&n
bsp; “Afraid not.”
“Still asleep, huh?” Mae gave him a measuring glance. “Busy night, I guess.”
“Not the way you’re thinking.” T.J. walked back through the courtyard and sat on a bent twig rocker. “And for your information, Tess is in the breakfast room right now, eating me out of house and home. Maria made enough for an army, as usual.”
“And I’ll bet you haven’t eaten at all.” Mae handed him a container of potato salad and a plastic fork. “I hear you two were standing awfully close inside the jail last night.”
T.J. clamped down hard on his temper. “My blasted badge got caught on her dress. I was trying to work it free. Nothing else was going on.” He ripped the lid off the container and stabbed the fork into the salad.
“Is that a fact?”
“What’s that’s supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re a damned poor liar, Jackson McCall.” Mae paced through the courtyard, then turned to stare at him, long and hard. “I saw what I saw. So did a whole lot of other people.”
T.J. crossed his arms in irritation. “Don’t tell me you’re a one-woman ethics committee sent here to find out my intentions toward our newest visitor. If you are, forget it. Maria beat you to it. But she was questioning Tess about her intentions toward me.”
Mae smiled tightly. “So are you feeling guilty about something?”
“I might, if anything had happened, which it didn’t.”
“You’re a moral man, Sheriff. That’s a good thing. But that’s a fine girl you’ve got sleeping beneath your roof. You might not want to be too moral.”
T.J. stared at her in mute shock. “Too moral? Are you saying that Tess O’Mara and I should—”
“Damned right I am. Life’s too short for regrets or apologies. Be sure to give my regards to the young lady. If she has some free time this afternoon, maybe she could drop by the café for a chat. I’ve got some ideas about those chile products, and I’d like her professional advice. After that the head of the 4-H club would like to talk to her about her lecture. She wants to know if Tess prefers to speak before or after the demonstration of cattle-castration equipment.” Mae strode past him to the gate. “Give my regards to Maria, if you will. And you might want to close your mouth now, Sheriff, or stuff it with some of that salad. Otherwise you’ll be catching flies.”
2000 Kisses Page 14
