by Hoff, Stacy
“I’m sorry if I look smug. I’m just trying to get you to see your company for what it is—crap.”
“They’re not all crappy.”
“Oh, right. You mentioned Stephanie. I wasn’t including her because you said she quit.”
“Taking this job was my chance to be her.” Ana scooted herself closer to the stove and farther away from him.
“Why do you want to be her?”
She scowled. “Are you a wannabe lawyer, or what?”
“A lawyer?”
“Yeah. I can see your face on the back of a bus. The ad says: ‘Dial 1-800-DEPOSITION’”
Redd laughed. “Nah. Too many letters.”
“Okay, leave off the ‘ION’ for ‘AggravatION.’”
He laughed harder before calming down. “I’m not trying to aggravate you. I’m trying to get to know you.”
“There’s a change of pace. Now you’re interested in talking? And about personal things no less? Why?”
Good question. “Let’s say you inspire me. So answer me. Why would you want to be anybody else? Even if it is your best friend?”
Ana scooted another inch away. “To prove a point,” she said softly.
“Go on,” he prodded.
“Everybody back home thinks I’m a flake. That I’m too off-beat and wacky to follow through with anything serious.”
“Do your parents think that, too?” he asked, taken aback.
“No. Yes. A little, maybe. Okay, probably. But they do love me.” Her voice trailed off. “Lovable, wacky, Ana . . .”
“Who else thinks that about you?”
“Everyone, I guess. The whole neighborhood in Brooklyn I grew up in.”
“You must be exaggerating.”
“Nope. I’ll always be the girl in fifth grade who insisted on being my Girl Scout troop’s treasurer. Only to promptly lose the dues money. I went crazy, looking all over the place. Then, almost as soon as I confessed to losing the troop’s money, crying to everyone about it, I found it. I had unwittingly stuffed the cash into my own lunch sack. Of course, the money was now translucent from mayonnaise grease. The whole troop died laughing. They said they didn’t know whether to spend it or eat it.” She frowned. “I’m still not sure how I did that one.”
“Hardly a crime.”
“If stupidity was a crime, I would have been convicted.”
“A little hard on yourself, don’t you think?” he said softly.
“I wish. In middle school I was part of the band. I played the flute. We had a winter concert where we had to play outdoors. The weather was very cold that day, and we couldn’t wear a coat because it would hide our band uniform. I made sure to wear thermal underwear and bring my scarf and hat. I was so caught up in not forgetting any of this stuff I forgot the one thing I really needed—my uniform.”
Redd seemed to choke a little but graciously said nothing.
Ana felt like choking, too. But somehow she forced out her words. “By the time I realized my mistake, I was already at school. The kids were getting into their uniforms. I told the teacher about my screw up, and he leant me the only extra girls’ uniform left. About ten sizes too big. The jacket ballooned on me and the skirt started to slip past my butt. I had to stop playing every five minutes to hike it up. It got to the point I tried walking funny—my hips swinging wide—to prevent it from falling down. It didn’t work. The people around me laughed so hard during the performance the teacher had to signal to them to stop.”
She was surprised Redd didn’t laugh, too. She tried another one. “And then there was my junior year in high school. My parents thought it’d be a good idea to get some exercise, since I had a tendency to gain a few pounds. They made me try out for the basketball team. I wasn’t the best athlete, but the coach liked me so he let me on the team. I was a benchwarmer. The last game of the season my school was way ahead in points so he let me play. I was desperate to prove myself and wanted a basket so badly.”
She swallowed hard and shut her eyes. “The other team took a shot. I saw it was going to miss. Me and one of the girls from the other team reached for the ball at the same time. I caught it, but somehow got turned around in the process and ended up throwing the ball in the air. It went in, but the wrong basket. I wound up scoring—for the other team. Good thing my school was up by so many points, my flub didn’t cost us the game, or I might have been a whole lot less popular. My friends just laughed it off saying, ‘That’s our Ana.’”
She opened one eye to gauge Redd’s reaction. His face, however, had retained his usual neutral expression. “Go on,” he said.
“As I got older, things got better. But it wasn’t until I started working for Stephanie that things really improved for me. She loved not only my work-product, but my feedback as well. I finally started seeing myself as somebody competent. Smart. Valued.”
“I’m glad you had the chance to work for her.”
“Me, too. I only wish the old neighborhood would give me the same chance for success Stephanie did.” Ana sighed. “I haven’t screwed up in the neighborhood for years, but the reputation stuck. Even at Teleworld I feel like I’m still that kid back in high school. Wanting to prove I’m more than a benchwarmer. Hoping the ball makes it into the basket.”
“Your co-workers seem to have faith in you. If the problem is your neighborhood, why don’t you move?”
“I’m trying. Winning this money will help. I negotiated fifty thousand dollars just for agreeing to do this damned show, hoping I could use it as a down payment. I don’t need any place fancy. You’d be surprised how much a million dollars doesn’t buy. But no matter how small the apartment is, I can finally prove to my frenemies I’ve achieved success after all.”
“Frenemies?”
“You know, friend-enemies. The ones who put you down while pretending they think you’re great and you’re friends.”
Redd nodded. Her description hit close to home. It sounded just like his father. Pretending to be Dad-of-the-Year while not doing a damned thing at all.
“Er, maybe I wasn’t supposed to tell you this,” she said.
“I won’t reveal your secrets. I’m impressed you were able to get your deal for fifty thousand up front. Now if I lose, on the other hand, Teleworld won’t give me a dime.”
“What do you want the money for?” she softly asked.
He felt the muscles in his back tighten up. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. You just interrogated the hell out of me and now you’re clamming up? So much for my inspiring you.”
“Your question is too personal.”
Her hands were on her hips, her mouth pursed angrily. “And what you asked me wasn’t?”
“Let’s compromise. You can ask me another question.”
She let out a huff of air. Instead of answering him immediately, she stared sullenly into the fire.
Maybe she’s picturing me burning instead of the wood.
“Okay, here’s another question. Why do you want to be called Redd?”
Hmm, I wasn’t expecting that one. “My hair is black now but when I was born, it was bright red. Between my hair color and the last name of Redding, the nickname stuck.”
“You can un-stick it by introducing yourself as Will or William.”
“No dice.”
“You should use your real name for the show.” She let out a grin, “How’s this for a good slogan? Where there’s a Will, there’s a way.”
He rolled his eyes. “I like Redd. It’s sentimental to me.”
“Why?”
“What difference does it make?”
“Look, buddy, it’s quid pro quo.” Her hands were back on her hips.
He sighed. Ooh, Lord, how the tables have turn
ed. “Because my mom and little sister used to call me that,” he answered quietly.
A faint smile played on her lovely, impertinent, bossy little mouth. He fought back the urge to kiss those lips.
“I like knowing that about you,” she said. “It makes you seem more . . .”
“Human?”
She laughed. The sound of it was lovely. “Sure. Let’s go with that.”
They both fell silent, listening to the crackling embers and enjoying the heat finally working its way into their bones. He hoped her muscle aches eased as much as his.
“I’m glad you’re with me,” Ana said out of the blue.
“Thanks. I’m glad you’re with me, too.”
She blinked a few times. “Do you really mean that?”
“The people you know back home may think you’re a flake, but I don’t.”
“You’re just trying to make me feel better.”
Her lower lip jutted out in such a way he wanted to reach out with his tongue and lick it. God, where are these thoughts coming from? It’d be best to forget them if he wanted to focus on the conversation. “Ana, do I strike you as the kind of guy to say some sweetsy thing to a woman just to make her feel better?”
“Um, no.”
“Right you are. I’m more of a ‘say what I mean’ type of guy, right?”
“Assuming you talk at all, yes.”
“Right again. So I’m not going to waste words on bullshitting someone. I don’t have the patience.”
He watched her play with her shoulder-length dark hair. Wrap her index finger around a thick strand. He hadn’t noticed before her hair was still damp. Now he noticed each detail about her. A single drop of water squeezed off her hair onto her fingers, the drop then falling onto her collarbone. Her neck was delicate, long and thin, like some sort of tropical bird. Exotic and immensely attractive.
Not liking where his thoughts were going again, he coughed and cleared his throat. “You must be famished.”
“Yes.”
She was looking at him like he was some kind of wilderness God. Since Redd was normally one to shun accolades, he was surprised to find he was embracing this. Back in his military days, any woman who made big eyes at him was out the door. He had no tolerance for those who wanted to see him as some kind of James Bond. But with Ana, any hero-worship she had toward him seemed genuine. Better still, she was not in denial of who he really was as a person. Moody. Particular. Pissy. And usually bossy, too. Then again, she often displayed the exact same traits. Maybe that was part of her allure.
He was the kind of guy women shouldn’t want to spend time with, let alone worship. At least he hoped so. The carefully crafted persona was one he’d tried hard to cultivate. But something about Ana made him want to cast this falsehood aside and show more of who he really was. With luck, he’d be able to snap out of it.
Ana started to get up.
“No. Sit. I’m in better shape than you after our ordeal. Let me cook for you, okay?”
One look at her almost-dreamy expression made it clear Ana’s hero-worship thing was setting in hard and fast. If she kept it up, snapping her out of it wasn’t going to be any easier. Emotionally, he knew this was not good. Yet physically, his body was sensing the attraction and beginning to respond in a serious way. He wrapped the towel around him tightly, hoping to cut off circulation south of the border.
Without further conversation, he took the stored fish and dumped it into their only pot. “Brace yourself,” he warned.
“Why? Oh!”
With a cold whoosh, he opened the cabin door wearing nothing more than reindeers and a towel. He swept a heap of snow into the pot and slammed the door back shut. “We’ve got no oil,” he explained. “So it’ll have to be fish soup. Hope it doesn’t turn out too watery.”
“Good idea. I take it you know how to cook?”
“I’ve done some cooking in my day. I may not be an Iron Chef, but I can get the job done.”
“Where did you learn? The Marines?”
“No, I learned from my mother.” When his words sunk in, he felt his lips press together. He knew what was coming. Stupid! Walking right into a trap . . .
“Tell me about your mot—”
“Oh no you don’t. Not again.”
And then Redd knew what he had to do. A twofold move that would not only quench his desire for her, but shut her up in a very efficient way. He placed the pot on the stove, bent down, and kissed her.
Chapter 18
Ana made a brief protest from surprise and then quickly melted into Redd’s arms. For a man who didn’t want to say much, he sure had a way of saying a hell of a lot. She was only too glad the message he was sending out now was one she badly wanted to hear.
His grip was firm against her back and waist. Yet his kiss was gentle. It was as if he was holding back until he knew she wanted him, too. When she parted her lips, he pressed his mouth to hers with an intensity that shook her to the core. She placed her hand against his chest, whether to pull him forward or push him away, she had no idea. Good thing her hands didn’t need any directions from her brain. Her fingers felt the soft hair on his broad, masculine chest until her hand slipped down to his waist. The response from him was immediate. His kiss deepened until she no longer knew where his tongue stopped and hers began.
Her head was spinning. Even more now than when she was dizzy from exposure. Her own mind, a swirling storm. Caught up in a blizzard of sensations. It took a second for her to notice he was moving away. Leaving her lips barren and wanting more. She tried to grab him tighter but he stepped back.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
The wave of desire that had surged through her instantly turned into one of self-doubt. “I’m sorry, too,” she said softly. Sorry you don’t think I’m worth getting involved with.
“Let me get dinner on.” He turned his back on her and walked away.
Damn it. I certainly screwed that one up, Redd thought with disgust. He couldn’t have shut Ana down faster if he was a switch board operator. When he was in the military, he always achieved his goals. Now that he was out of the military, he was sure to screw up his game plan altogether. Somehow his apology had managed to offend her. He was only trying to say he shouldn’t become involved with his partner. And, in all likelihood, shouldn’t become involved with anyone. His head hadn’t been screwed on right since Hailey died. It was all part of keeping Ana safe. This time, safe from him.
What he hadn’t meant was that he was sorry he kissed her. Hell, it had been the best thing he’d done in ages. In his past, one-night stands had been his go-to plan. The thought of kissing a woman he actually cared about had been as realistic as flying. But he was really getting to know Ana, and he liked what he saw. She was beautiful. Plucky. Unbelievably honest. Dead blunt. Very caring. Determined as all get-out. All great features in his book. Even her relentless quest for answers was as endearing as it was annoying.
But now the woman he was admiring was avoiding him like the plague. She sat on the floor as far away from him as possible, draped under the blanket while finishing her fish stew. For once, chatty Ana was silent. No doubt contemplating why he would kiss her with such passion, and then drop her cold. He bit back a sigh. He was truly no longer Special Ops. Spoiled Ops, perhaps. But definitely not “Special.”
He tossed aside a tin mug and tied his towel tighter around him. Maybe he’d feel a little less awkward if he got dressed. Wore some body armor, maybe. “Ana? You still talking to me?”
“Sure.”
“Doesn’t seem like you are.”
“I’m eating. My mother taught me never to talk with my mouth full,” she said in a clipped tone.
He let the silence linger and then tried again. “I said I’m sorry, okay?”
“Yes, you did say that already.” She was looking everywhere except at him.
She’s pissed, all right. He breathed deeply, garnering patience and tried again. If he didn’t get this right he’d only make her madder. “I’m sorry I kissed you because you’re my partner. I don’t want to create an awkward situation.” When she remained silent, he prompted again. “Why don’t you use some of that trademark bluntness of yours and tell me what you’re thinking?”
“I liked it when you kissed me,” she answered softly. “I thought you did, too.”
“I did like it.”
“Then why would the situation be awkward?”
What was it about her questions that put such a different spin on things? “I don’t want to get emotionally attached. We’re in a survival situation. Worse, almost everything we do is being taped for the whole country to watch. I don’t like having to put myself out there like this.”
“You want to remain a lone wolf. Do I have that right?”
He let out a hard breath. “That about sums it up.”
“What’s made you this way?”
“Again, I don’t like people in my business.”
“When you kissed me, you invited me into your business.”
God, the woman is tenacious. He braced himself, shut his eyes and tried to find a happy place inside himself when he spoke. “My sister died several years back.”
“Oh no! I’m so sorry to hear that. What happened?”
“Leukemia.” Bile gripped his throat. He could only hope the fish soup stayed down. He needed the energy and more food would be hard to come by.
“That’s terrible.” She slid over to him and put her hand on his arm.
“Yeah. It is.” Suddenly his story tumbled out, a snowball that triggered the avalanche. “It was up to me to take care of her. But I joined the military instead. We needed the money. Momma worked as a truck stop waitress, and my father would never help us out. He’d left us when my sister and I were toddlers. He decided to move up here to hunt for gold. I grew up thinking my dad was more interested in money than us.”
