Demar rolled his shoulders. “We’ll take our chances. It’s the best we have on the table right now.”
Callie said, “No, it’s not, that’s the whole point.”
Keefe said, “It’s the safest and most intelligent idea, how’s that?”
“Inaccurate,” Sally groused, and Keefe added, “Callie, you have a computer, and Ryan had this place wired for high-speed Internet when he was here. We’ll contact Perry right now and get going on this before the police get involved . . . except for the one who’s already involved.”
Callie sighed and stood. “I’m doing this under protest, you understand. It’s a terrible waste of a good lead because men think they know everything.”
She turned for the door, giving him a glimpse of very shapely legs and those damn pink shortie pajamas—except he didn’t need to be distracted. He needed to focus on this meeting and getting Mimi back and staying away from reporters in cute jammies.
Sally pursed her lips. “I’m bummed.”
Demar patted her leg affectionately. “It’s for the best, girl.”
Sally plucked his hand up as if it were a dead skunk and dropped it back on his own leg. “I doubt that, and you can just keep your paws to yourself.”
Callie came back outside and reclaimed her seat. She flipped open her laptop, hit the keys to bring her computer to life and pulled up her e-mail account. “Okay, any suggestions on what to say to this M. Perry person besides no person in their right mind will fall for this stupid hoax but I’m sending it anyway?”
Demar stood and paced. “Keep it simple.”
Callie said, “Since you’re hell-bent on this how about saying”—she typed—”We’ve seen the lady in the photo and know where she’s hiding out.”
Sally added, “Meet tomorrow at nine at Kerby’s on Peabody.”
Callie typed it in and said, “We should include that we know about her baby. That way Perry’s assured you’ve made contact with Mimi and know something about her and it’s not a wild-goose chase.”
Callie put in the information, then gazed at the others. “Anything else? Not that it matters because this idea is so doomed.”
Keefe huffed. “Will you just send it?”
“There,” she said after she hit the send key. “Done.”
Demar checked his watch. “It’s after three. We won’t get a reply till tomorrow, and we’ve gotten into enough trouble for one night.”
Callie sighed, moonlight playing in her hair making Keefe want to do the same. She said, “I’ll let everyone know as soon as I hear from Perry.”
Demar and Sally walked down the drive. Georgette and Digger left in his pickup while Keefe leaned against the porch post. “I think this is going to work.”
“I think you’re delusional or Perry’s dumber than a box of rocks.” She yawned and closed down her computer. “This is going to be the shortest night in history. We’ll both be dead tired tomorrow.” She stood. “What do you think are our chances of even getting a reply on that e-mail?”
“I think you’re so damn beautiful in the moonlight you make my teeth ache.” He ran his hand over his face. “God, I shouldn’t have said that, but you drive me nuts even when we don’t agree. I don’t know how to get over you. Callie, no matter what I try it doesn’t work.” And he snagged her around the waist, not ready to let her go. “God, I want you.”
He slipped the computer from her hands, put it on the settee, then took her in his arms, feeling as if this was exactly where she belonged. He looked down at her and kissed her, his mouth hot on hers, his tongue mating with hers, his body pressed tight to hers. He hadn’t meant for this to happen but wasn’t surprised it had.
He slid his hands into the robe, her warm, soft skin against his palms the most incredible sensation on earth. A little moan slid up her throat, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing herself closer still. He tasted every crevice of her mouth as he wedged his leg between hers, his thigh feeling the mounting heat of her sex as she spread her legs in response. He backed her against the side of the house, shielding her and what they were doing from the street and anyone making an early call at the docks. He ran his hands down her sides, into the waistband on her pj’s and cupping her wonderful hips.
Perfect. Not bag-of-bones skinny like so many TV types. Her pelvis arched against him, his erection throbbing as he slipped the waistband down, his hand nestling into the silk curls. His heart slammed against his ribs, and he gulped in air as her hot lips planted wet kisses along his neck and chin, her fingers struggling with his belt buckle . . . until Bonnie’s cry split the air.
Callie’s fingers stilled, and she rested her head on his shoulder. “What the hell are we doing? We’ve recited the litany of why we shouldn’t get together, and now here we are doing it again anyway.”
She stepped away, her breathing fast. He took a step back, trying to put distance between them, but it was only physical. Emotionally they were attached. He was falling for her, dammit. Falling hard and fast and . . . opening himself up to another career disaster. He said, “Least I’m not the only one doing the wanting.”
That hadn’t come out exactly as he’d intended. He’d meant it as a tease, but it didn’t sound that way. “I mean—”
“That’s what this was about? To prove a point? To show that I want you, the real you, and not Lex.” She adjusted her pj’s and gave him an eat-dirt-and-die look.
Hell, no! He didn’t play games—he hated them—except maybe this time he should. This misunderstanding was best left that way. She was ticked off just like he’d been when they did the deed in the gym and she said she thought of him as Lex. Ticked he could deal with; Callie more than willing to step into his arms could be career disaster. He needed time to get over her, and this would do it. It was the best for both of them. They were getting more involved at every turn, and there was nowhere for a relationship to go. Their careers didn’t exactly mesh.
He slapped on his Lex Zandor face and slid into acting mode. Her attempt to break them up hadn’t worked but his sure would. “Just wanted to see if you wanted me as much as I want you. That was one way of doing it.”
“You’re pond scum. Below pond scum, and I thought you were better than that. Mutual attraction is one thing we could try and get over together, but to do this to feed your ego is something else. I have a baby to tend to.” Callie jutted her chin and stormed off into the house.
Well, mission accomplished. No going back. She thought him an ass and wouldn’t have anything more to do with him, least on a romantic level. He’d killed any chance of that dead as a skunk on the four-lane. He should feel good because it kept his career safe, except he felt like . . . pond scum. What really got to him was that crack about being disappointed in him and in herself because she’d overestimated him. For some reason he didn’t want her to think badly of him. In fact, he realized he wanted just the opposite. Well, that was just too damn bad now because it wasn’t going to happen.
———
Callie lay back against the headboard, staring at the computer propped against her knees, the moon and the glow from the monitor the only lights in the room. After her little groping session with Keefe on the front porch that ended in total humiliation, how could she sleep?
She checked her e-mail again, looking for a message from M. Perry, but still no reply. She clicked back to solitaire to start another game.
She was furious with Keefe, the bastard. Getting her to respond to him just to puff up his male ego was something she’d never dreamed he’d do. She knew the soap set, least she thought she did. There were the actors who were self-absorbed and thought they were the second Tom Cruise on their way to the top, the playmates who were in it for the glam, the press hounds who loved seeing their names and pictures everywhere. But Keefe never fit into any of those categories. He seemed real. Till tonight. Guess that put him in the Tom Cruise category. She lost at solitaire again, checked her in box again, and there it was ... a reply from M. Perry.
This was a big step closer to finding Mimi. If Perry didn’t know something about Mimi, the people he worked for had to have a hunch where she was. Why else would they be advertising for her in Memphis? She should tell Keefe. No matter what their differences he needed to know about the note, even if it was the middle of the night, actually almost morning. He should make plans, and she needed to know what to write back to Perry.
Callie slid from the bed, pulled on her robe and tiptoed into the hall. She looked both ways to make sure Rory wasn’t around to get suspicious. Then she opened the door to Keefe’s room and went in.
Moonlight fell across Keefe’s bare back. Did it have to be bare? She tried to resurrect her thoughts of him as a bastard, but it didn’t help to see his skin. Lots of it. Didn’t the man ever hear of a T-shirt? The sheet just covered his butt. Eyes closed, breathing slow and steady. There was not one thing slow and steady about her right now. She should have never come. What was she thinking? She turned and started for the door, and he said, “Enjoying the view?”
See, bastard! She spun around. “You are the most arrogant, conceited, self-important, smug, high-and-mighty, stuck-up, vain, arrogant—”
“You already said arrogant.”
“Well, I’m saying it again because it’s double true.” He rolled over onto his back, taking the sheet with him. Thank the Lord for that! She didn’t need any more maleness to distract her; this was enough. “I came to tell you we heard from M. Perry. The meeting’s on. I thought you might like to know and what do you want me to reply?”
“So what the hell are you doing up at this hour?”
“What do you think, waiting for the darn e-mail, like I said. This is important. I need to reply.”
“Tell him to look for three guys in Atlanta Braves baseball hats. Now, what else do you need?” He winked.
“I need to beat you about the neck and shoulders.” She yanked the door open and resisted the urge to slam it as she left and crept back to her room. Her stomach churned, and she ground her teeth. How could she be attracted to such a jerk? She wasn’t; it was over. Two years of ogling and daydreaming about the man had officially ended tonight. Common sense had prevailed over primal lust. In fact, common sense should always prevail, especially in important matters.
And by late the next afternoon as she and Bonnie entered Slim’s, Callie was more convinced of that than ever. Sally waved her over to a table where she and Georgette sat, and Callie pushed the stroller in that direction. Dinner customers occupied about half the tables, including Eleanor Stick sitting in the back. Well, what brought that on?
Callie lifted Bonnie onto her lap, and Sally leaned across the table. “Did you see who’s graced our presence for dinner tonight? Eleanor’s working at the hardware store. Can’t seem to find baby-sitting jobs anywhere now that Keefe made a point of telling everyone on the Landing she’s way less than a great baby-sitter.”
Bonnie started to fuss, and Callie rocked her, but it didn’t help. She stood and paced and ran smack into Eleanor Stick. The old bat smirked. “Taking care of young’ns isn’t as easy as you think, is it, city-girl?” She harrumphed, then strolled off toward the door, nose in the air, shoulders back.
Bonnie yelled louder, and Callie said, “Now look what she did. That woman brings out the worst in this baby.”
Georgette sighed. “Oh, good grief.” She stood and lifted Bonnie into her arms. “Crying babies make me nuts. Let me have a go at this. I worked my way through college at a day care.” She put Bonnie to her shoulder, her cries gradually decreasing by several decibels.
Georgette slowly grinned, a real grin as if she truly enjoyed the moment. “She likes my earrings. One of my cousins was the same way, into the bling even at this age.”
Bonnie cooed as she played with the silver and gold dangles at Georgette’s ears, and Sally said, “Georgette, you’re a baby genius.”
“Just doing what needs to be done.”
Callie felt her heart soften toward Georgette. This was a genuine side of her Callie hadn’t seen before, and she liked it. “Bonnie wins everyone over, and maybe after tonight we’ll be a step closer to getting her mama back.”
Sally huffed. “Well, I doubt it. Three men in baseball caps? What the heck kind of disguise is that? That’s what happens to men; they never play dress-up when they’re growing up. They don’t get the fantasy concept. Perry’s going to recognize Keefe, someone’s bound to know Digger and Demar reeks of cop. The man might as well have I am the law written across his forehead. The meeting’s never going to come off.”
Callie said, “But what if Keefe and his merry men don’t do the meeting. What if someone else does . . . like us.” Her gaze fused with Sally’s, and she sat up straight.
Georgette sat down. “The guys already said it’s them and only them, and we weren’t invited to the party.”
Callie bit at her bottom lip. “Well, that was before I sinned.”
Georgette whispered, “Sinned as in little white lie or as in going straight to hell?”
“The hell one. I told M. Perry to look for three women in red boas at nine o’clock at Kerby’s. I had to keep the time the same because I mentioned it in the first note, and I didn’t want to do anything to scare him off.”
Sally put her fingers over her mouth to stifle a laugh, then said, “Honey, if three red boas don’t scare him off, nothing will.”
Callie said, “I had to do something. The guys’ idea sucked, and I suddenly decided I wasn’t in the mood to be dictated to by a . . . dick.”
This time Sally couldn’t contain the laugh. “Oh, boy, that must have been some fight you and Keefe had. So what’s your plan, other than to make Keefe madder than a cat in a thunderstorm?”
“I’ve been thinking about this, and the hooker disguise is the best idea and most believable.”
Sally scoffed, “Believable? Have you looked in the mirror lately?”
“We’ll have to dress the part, but who else knows the streets better than a streetwalker, huh? It’s perfectly logical. And the boas fit on Beale Street; the place is sort of nuts at night. No one will pay much mind.”
Sally said, “Bet the cops pay some mind.”
“We’re not doing anything, just looking like we could if we wanted to. Think of us as faux hookers. That’s not breaking any laws.”
Georgette patted Bonnie. “And I suppose you need my clothes, am I right?”
“And your presence,” Callie said. “Three is safer than two, and we don’t know M. Perry.” She studied Georgette. “So, are you in?”
She sighed. “The men aren’t going to be happy. You sure you want to tick them off like this? Maybe there’s another way.”
Callie said, “Like what? If we don’t intercede, we’ll never find out what M. Perry knows. All we have to do is reroute the guys, and we’re in business. I think if we tell them the time has changed, that M. Perry is meeting them at ten, not nine, that should work. Then we meet with Perry at the original time. The guys will be a little perturbed, but they’ll get over it.”
“By the next millennium.”
Georgette shook her head. “I got my doubts, but if you need me ... I... I guess I can do this. Callie tells Keefe about the time change. I’ll get to Digger. Sally clues in Demar. We meet at Hastings House in an hour, and we’ll get all hussied up and go.”
Callie stood and took Bonnie from Georgette, placing her in the stroller, then glanced at her watch. “I better get going. Keefe’s over at the gym doing play practice.” She smiled, gave a little finger wave and practiced strutting her stuff out the saloon while pushing the stroller. No easy feat.
The hardware store had already closed, and Betty Lindel locked up Burgers-n-Bait and told Callie to be extra careful of strangers as the streets would be deserted soon except for Slim’s. Callie agreed and
crossed to the high school, parked the stroller outside and took Bonnie in.
The cool interior felt good. She stopped at the back, watching Keefe on stage pointing to actors and giving directions, his deep voice a muffled echo off the concrete walls. The actors hung on his every word. They respected him, trusted him; she could tell that right away. Keefe O’Fallon may be a first-class jerk to her, but he knew the theater.
“Hi,” came a whispered voice beside her. “Is that Keefe’s sister?” A teenager flashed his boyish grin and nodded at Bonnie. “Did you come to watch the play practice? You’re Keefe’s girlfriend, aren’t you? That’s what everyone says.”
“Everyone’s wrong.” They should have been on the front porch last night or in Keefe’s room. That was enough to kill anyone’s notions of romance between her and Keefe. “I’m just the baby-sitter.”
They watched the stage for a few beats, and the boy whispered, “Keefe’s the best director we’ve ever had in this town. We’re so freaking lucky to have him, and we all know it. This is going to be a real kick-butt play. Mr. Leonard worked at the hardware store and built the stairs for the set. The rest of us are working on the frame and a balcony. Keefe gave me the part of Mortimer, do you believe it? Mortimer. That’s the lead part. Stanley told me I couldn’t act and wouldn’t even give me a walk-on part, but now ... I... I want to be an actor just like Keefe when I grow up. I don’t know how to thank him.”
Callie patted the boy’s shoulder. “I think you just did.” It was darn difficult to think evil thoughts about Keefe O’Fallon with a cheering section like this boy in Keefe’s corner. She eyed his baseball jersey. “What position do you play?”
He blushed. “I don’t. My dad thinks I’m going to baseball practice, but I’m coming here instead.” His eyes rounded. “You won’t tell my dad, will you?”
The Way U Look Tonight Page 11
