She ignored the gloating. “I plan to make Dr. Burke our regular vet.”
“You won’t be sorry. Hey, do you have plans tomorrow night?”
The question was so abrupt, she almost missed a step. Gripping the polished wood banister, she thanked God her reflexes had kicked in before she face-planted in the stairwell. Her mother would never forgive her if she showed up for a blind date tomorrow with a swollen nose and black eye.
Apparently, Jack hadn’t noticed her close call with mortification. “A bunch of us, including Juliet and her husband, are going to dinner at this place with indoor bumper cars and high-tech, virtual-reality video games. We’re a very sophisticated group,” he deadpanned. “And if you’re not busy...”
Thanks a lot, Mom. After chiding for months that her oldest daughter needed to get out more, Sheryl Kendrick had sabotaged the one invitation Riley actually wanted to accept. Disappointment curdled inside her. “Sounds like fun, and I wish I could go. Unfortunately, negotiating with my parents to indefinitely board my dog required my sacrificing a Friday night. I promised my mom a favor. She’d never let me live it down if I backed out.” Dammit. “You know how moms are.”
His expression tightened. “I guess.”
They rounded the corner and went up the next flight in silence. Mental note: Jack doesn’t like talking about his mother. It was awkward, walking together with nothing to break the stillness besides their footfalls on the steps. Unable to stand it, she ventured hesitantly, “Are you closer to your dad?”
“He died before I was born.”
She was so taken aback by his icy tone that she didn’t even offer her condolences. Riley kept her mouth shut until they stepped through the doorway on the fourth-floor landing. She couldn’t part ways without saying something.
“I really do wish I could go with you and your friends tomorrow,” she said as she fished her apartment key out of her purse. “Ask me again sometime?”
“Sure.” He punctuated the agreement with a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. It barely reached his mouth. Then he disappeared into his apartment.
She opened her own front door, feeling that any shot she might have had with Jack Reed had died a swift death in the stairwell. No, that wasn’t true. We were shotless long before I stuck my foot in my mouth.
A casual invite to blow up virtual bad guys with a group of buddies wasn’t necessarily a prelude to anything more. Jack didn’t want romance. And she wasn’t entirely sure she could kiss a man good-night without reflexively clutching her pepper spray. Still, if things were different...
Steamy images tumbled through her mind—the smoldering look in Jack’s eyes before he kissed her, the erotic contrast of his dark hair against her pale breast.
Maybe it was for the best that Jack’s aloofness put a wall between them and that she wasn’t free to join him and his friends tomorrow. Blurring the lines between platonic reality and naughty dreams could lead to something she really regretted in the long run. No matter how blissfully orgasmic it might be in the short run.
* * *
THREE AND A half hours couldn’t possibly be a world record for longest date ever, yet to Riley, tonight had certainly felt like it. Worse, because she’d caved to her mother this afternoon, the date wasn’t technically over yet. They had another awkward five minutes before they reached her apartment. I knew I should have taken my own car.
Her mother’s call earlier had startled Riley out of work, catching her off guard because she’d lost track of time while troubleshooting a connection string. When the phone rang, Riley experienced a guilt-stricken moment of panic that she was already late. Sheryl had explained that Mitch still needed a gift for his friend’s wedding and that she’d directed him to a department store near Riley’s building.
“He’ll just pick you up on the way back,” her mom had decreed. She’d ignored Riley’s protests about not wanting Mitch to go to any extra trouble. “Nonsense. He’s happy to do it, and the store is so close, practically around the corner.”
“Know what’s even closer than around the corner from my place? My actual place. Where my car is parked. It’s silly to send him back out to drive me home later.” Of course, her being dependent on Mitch gave her mother assurance that Riley couldn’t make any excuses to flee during dinner.
Sheryl had sighed. “But then I have to worry about you out at night, driving alone.” It was difficult to tell if she was being sincerely protective or just manipulative—knowing her, probably both at once. In the end, Riley had capitulated.
And now she was kicking herself, counting the seconds until she and Mitch reached her building.
“Nice neighborhood,” he said. “I mean, I noticed earlier. Before it was dark out. Savannah is really nice, too. Have you ever been?”
“Nope.” Which she’d told him when he asked her at the dinner table while regaling her parents with descriptions of Savannah’s charm.
Sheryl had kicked off the evening by saying Riley and Mitch had a lot in common because they were both “marketing experts.” Riley designed sites to help her customers best promote themselves, and Mitch leased billboard space for freeway ads. That had led to a few minutes of small talk, but hardly the instant connection Sheryl seemed to expect. It turned out, they were both pet owners. Mitch had two snakes and proudly showed her pictures on his phone. She’d smiled politely, but frankly, she found the idea of snakes around the house far creepier than Jack occasionally visiting the morgue as part of his law-enforcement career.
Riley hadn’t appreciated Mitch’s attempts to bond with her by getting Mags to like him. He kept baby-talking to the dog in a way that became embarrassing to listen to and giving her scraps of food, even after Riley pointed out that some human foods were downright dangerous to dogs. Even Jack, who didn’t like dogs, had taken care not to give Mags risky treats.
And of course, no matter what a dog ate, overfeeding was a bad idea—a point illustrated when Mags barfed on the cream carpet. Sheryl had glared daggers, as if the dog was responsible for killing a romantic mood.
When they rolled up to the parking-lot gate, Riley was so relieved she almost threw herself from the still-moving vehicle. “Well...thanks for dropping me off, and have a wonderful time at the wedding tomorrow.”
“You know, just because I didn’t RSVP with a plus one doesn’t mean—”
“I myself,” she babbled, “will be working all day. Work, work, work. I’m afraid I got behind this week trying to track down whether Mags had an owner, taking her to the vet, shopping for dog food and leashes.”
She managed to evade being invited to the wedding, but she couldn’t dissuade him from walking her to her apartment. Just to my door, she vowed to herself. Not a single millimeter farther. If he or her mother thought for one second she was inviting him in for coffee—
“Wait, don’t you want to take the elevator?” he asked when she automatically headed for the stairs.
The elevator would be faster. And in the entire time she’d lived here, it had only malfunctioned once. “Right.” She followed him inside and punched the appropriate button. As soon as the door closed, she was assailed by memories of being stuck in the elevator with Jack last weekend—his genuine concern when he asked if she was discomfited by small spaces, the wry humor in his voice when he’d proclaimed himself her crisis buddy. His wicked, teasing tone when he suggested she practice her strip poker skills.
Before she knew it, the elevator dinged and the doors parted again. Mitch put a hand at the small of her back and gently propelled her forward. Given that she hardly needed his help navigating her own hallway and that they’d only met a few hours ago, the gesture seemed overly familiar. She used sliding her purse off her shoulder as an opportunity to step away from him, her movements purposeful but not urgent. Progress! She didn’t experience any jitters at his touch, no panicky sense of her pers
onal space being invaded.
She hadn’t retreated because a man got close. She’d retreated because it was the wrong man. Her gaze shifted toward Jack’s door. How differently would this night have ended if she’d been free to accept his dinner invitation?
* * *
AS JACK ROUNDED the corner for the last set of stairs before the fourth floor, he couldn’t help thinking about last night, when he’d been here with Riley. He wished he had that conversation to do over again. When he’d seen her in the mailroom, she’d been all smiles and flirty glances. The way she’d been looking at him had been flattering—and hot as hell—but what he’d liked most was how different she’d seemed from the night they’d met. There’d been no trace of haunted wariness in her eyes.
Of course, then he’d pushed her away by withdrawing faster than an agoraphobic turtle. By the time they’d said their good-nights, her expression had been pinched with regret. Nice going, dumb ass.
Why hadn’t he handled his brief talk with Riley better? As much as he hated discussing his parents, mothers and fathers came up in conversation every day. Tony talked about his family constantly, and Jack managed not to turn cold and surly with him. It wasn’t as if Riley could have known his father was killed in a car accident. Or that thinking about his mother, and his inability to help her change, caused acid and anger to churn in his stomach.
He’d meant it when he told Riley he cared about her opinion. Even though he hadn’t known her long, he valued her friendship. It ate at him that he might have torpedoed it in the early stages. The good news was, she only lived across the hallway. Inevitably, their paths would cross again. When that happened, he’d figure out how to make up for yesterday’s stilted encounter.
At the top of the stairwell, he swung open the door, surprised to see two figures in the hall. Riley stood in her doorway with a tall, skinny man leaning toward her. Both their heads turned at the sound of the door. Riley’s eyes widened, but Jack couldn’t read the expression in them. He was, however, close enough to hear her “Well, good night, then!” at an octave higher than her normal speaking voice as she ducked into her apartment. She didn’t exactly slam the door...more like she closed it with emphasis.
The man stood immobile, as if he wasn’t sure how to process this dismissal. Then he cast a disgruntled glance in Jack’s direction before stalking toward the elevator. Had Jack interrupted the end of a date? As close as they’d been standing, it seemed a logical conclusion that the lanky guy had been about to kiss her until Jack had destroyed the moment.
Try as he might, he had a hard time feeling sorry about that.
* * *
RILEY HAD CHANGED clothes and was washing her face when she thought she heard a knock over the running water. She turned the faucet and waited to see if the sound came again. Oh, hell. What if she’d left something in Mitch’s car? Then he can keep it. They’d already endured one awkward goodbye; she wasn’t suffering through a second.
Another knock sounded, accompanied by a muffled voice. “Riley? It’s Jack.”
Surprise coursed through her. She grabbed a robe to throw on over her high-cut shorts and thin pajama top. She’d told Jack she couldn’t go out with him tonight because she was doing a favor for her mother. She hadn’t wanted him to know it was a blind date. When he’d seen her with Mitch, had he thought she’d blown him off for another guy?
After the way Jack had ended their last conversation, would he even have cared?
She darted through the small living room, which was something of an obstacle course. Although she wasn’t messy, she worked in an environment of controlled chaos. Notebooks and coding manuals covered the surface of her coffee table, barely allowing room for her laptop. A second computer sat on a TV tray, and there was a whiteboard behind her couch. She’d been sticking random visual cues to it with magnets, everything from pages torn out of magazines to paint swatches, to get inspired for a color scheme for a new client. And, of course, there were at least two bras visible in the room. She had a habit of shrugging out of them if she was working late.
“I’ll be right there,” she called, shoving the nearest bra under a sofa pillow as she passed. Before she took the chain off her door, she paused to tighten the belt of her robe. It was purple chenille and practically dragged the floor—hardly the most flattering garment she owned, but she hadn’t been dressed for company.
She unlocked the dead bolt and opened the door. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight. Not again, anyway.” When he’d emerged from the stairwell earlier, she’d experienced a slew of conflicting feelings. She’d already known she would have rather had dinner with him than Mitch, but actually seeing the two of them side by side had been brutally unfair to her date. Few men could measure up next to Jack.
He ran a hand through his hair, looking rueful. “Should I apologize? For running off your...friend?”
“Apologize? I may send you a fruit basket in gratitude. He’s not a friend. He’s the nephew of one of my mom’s neighbors. An awkward dinner with him at my parents’ house was the price of their watching Mags for me.”
“Ah. Good.” He rocked back on his heels. “He wasn’t the guy for you.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re basing that on twenty seconds in the hallway?”
“Guess I just didn’t like the look of him.” He glanced away, taking a deep breath. “I do owe you an apology, though. Not for tonight, but for yesterday. You probably figured this out, but I... I’m not good at discussing my parents.”
“Yeah,” she said softly. “I got that.” Sympathy squeezed her heart. She wouldn’t pry into his past, but it was clear he hadn’t shared the kind of happy childhood she and her sisters had enjoyed.
Riley hadn’t realized, even into adulthood, how sheltered she’d been. No one in their immediate family had faced any serious illnesses or divorces. She’d only lived in two different houses before going away to college; both her sisters and her parents were close enough to be a regular part of her life. She was blessed. And she supposed that, subconsciously, she’d always assumed bad things happened to other people. Until the break-in last year. The entire time that man had his grip on her, beneath the paralyzing terror had been an almost manic disbelief. This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.
Something in Jack’s expression told her that, even if he hadn’t gone into a job that made him hyperaware of crime, he’d already understood that people were capable of terrible things.
He cleared his throat. “Anyway. I just wanted to tell you I was sorry. Good night.”
“Night, Jack.”
He walked away, but just as she was closing her door, he paused. “We’re okay, right?”
“Better than okay. You’re the one who helped me smuggle a dog into the building, and you helped me put an end to a lousy blind date. I owe you big time.”
“Riley Kendrick owing me a favor.” His eyes glinted with humor, and something about his smile made her feel deliciously nervous. “I like it.”
“Is there, um, something specific you have in mind?”
“Not yet. But I’ll think of something.”
6
NOBODY COULD POSSIBLY be expected to stay indoors and work on a Saturday like this one. For the first time in recent memory, there was no hint of rain in the air; the sky was gloriously blue, and bright sunshine gilded the city. Riley could feel its warmth even through her living room window.
When she’d told Mitch last night that she was behind on work, it had been the truth. But she took the weather as a sign that today was the perfect day to follow through on her promise to visit Wren’s new job. She could get some fresh air and make her sister look good. Win-win.
The lingerie shop, Vivien’s Armoire, was one of the retailers in a picturesque open-air mall. A horseshoe of twenty to thirty stores followed a curved, red brick pathway, dotte
d with fountains and benches. In the center of the U were restaurants and parking spaces. The lot was crowded—obviously Riley wasn’t the only one who’d been coaxed out by the glorious weather. She parked by a bookstore at the far end of the complex and enjoyed her stroll, window-shopping at a boutique and inhaling appreciatively as she passed a coffeehouse.
Wren, working on a window display, spotted her before Riley even entered the store and waved so excitedly she almost knocked over a faceless mannequin.
They met just inside the door. Wren was beaming but kept her voice low enough that nearby shoppers wouldn’t hear. “You made it! You are my favorite sister, you know that?”
“Only until Rochelle comes by and spends more money than me.”
“Naturally.” Wren watched two women walk toward the register with their selections. “You look around while I ring up these customers.” Nodding toward the back of the store, she added in a whisper, “We keep the really naughty stuff around the corner.”
“Uh...good to know.”
Riley meandered through the shop, wincing at a few of the price tags on exquisite lingerie. Maybe she should cross the aisle; the display of candles and luxurious scented lotions might be more her speed, budgetarily speaking. There was no question the merchandise was high quality, but how could she justify spending so much money on dazzling undergarments no one else would see anytime soon?
Then again... Frowning at the memory of opening her door in unflattering lumpy purple chenille, she stopped by a rack of silky robes. There was one in deep blue, with a bit of lace detailing at the collar and sleeves. Classy, but still sexy. Unfortunately, she only saw two sizes—one that would be almost too small to cinch around her waist and another that would swallow her whole. She’d have to ask Wren if they had more in the back or another shipment coming in soon.
After helping a rapid succession of customers check out, Wren was free. For the moment, the store was empty. She put her elbows on the counter and propped her chin on her hands. “This is the first chance I’ve had to catch my breath since we opened this morning. Seems like everyone is out shopping today! Marissa didn’t come into work because of morning sickness, and Meg has been busy making emergency wedding phone calls. There was a burst pipe situation, and the venue she was supposed to use for the ceremony now has flooding damage.”
If She Dares (Contemporary Romance) Page 6
