She rose, picked up her stuff and walked out the door.
*
“Is everything okay, Nic? You look…worried about something.”
Stifling a sigh, Nic knew better than to avoid a direct question. His mom was too sharp.
He picked up his fork and twirled spaghetti as he shook his head.
“Not worried,” he said between bites. “Just some stuff on my mind. Got a call from Tiffany Jones about her snake of a husband. Said he’d called and talked to the little girl, told her he was gonna take her to live with him, that her mom was no good, stuff like that. Traced the call to a phone booth in Baltimore. It’s where I figured he’d be, so I’m heading down tomorrow.”
After Annie had left him feeling like she’d smashed a crowbar over his head this afternoon, he’d recovered enough to know he had to clear out his cases so he could concentrate on his caller. He’d been chasing Tiffany’s deadbeat husband for a couple months now and the guy had just presented himself on a platter.
“Is this the guy who beat his wife then tried to say her nonexistent boyfriend did it?” His dad’s low rumble came from the other side of the table.
“Yeah. He’s a real scumsucker. I don’t know what Tiff ever saw in him.”
“Well, there’s no accounting for taste.” Grace sighed. “Just look at poor Annie. That girl’s been having such a hard time lately. You know she dumped her last boyfriend.”
It took a huge effort not to show a reaction. Yeah, he knew she’d dumped the guy, but he’d bet she’d told his mom a whole lot more. Not that he wanted to know, damn it, but if his mom wanted to offer…which she probably wouldn’t. For too many years, Nic hadn’t wanted to hear about Annie’s misadventures in dating. He’d always managed to turn his mom’s interest in another direction, and she’d finally taken the hint.
Of course, now that he actually wanted to know—which he didn’t want to examine too closely—she probably wouldn’t say a word.
To his surprise, Grace wasn’t finished. “Another one who just wanted her for her family connections. It’s such a shame.”
His dad grunted in response and Nic flashed him a look. But his dad only had eyes for his mother.
“I’ve been thinking,” she continued. “About John. Your cousin Ray’s son. He’s only a couple years older than Annie and I’ve always thought he was such a sweetheart. I think he and Annie would hit it off, don’t you?”
Nic took that last statement like a punch to the solar plexus. He sucked in a deep breath before he could stop himself. His mom didn’t seem to notice, though, as his dad answered with a noncommittal hmm.
Sweet Jesus, he didn’t need this right now.
“She’s had rotten luck with men lately.” Grace waved her fork in Frank’s general direction, patently ignoring Nic. “These last couple of guys, though, they really had me worried. It’s almost like she’s getting desperate. My god, the girl’s only twenty-seven and she keeps talking about her clock-ticking. Like she’s running out of time.”
Grace slid Nic an apologetic look. “Sorry, honey. I went off on a tangent there. So you’re leaving tomorrow? How long will you be gone?”
“Couple days,” he muttered then concentrated on shoveling food in his mouth so his mom wouldn’t ask him any more questions. Luckily, Grace and Frank started talking about one of her cases, leaving him to think.
Annie had been having guy troubles for a while now. Damn, and here he’d been pawing her, adding to her problems, making a complete ass of himself. And putting her in danger.
But, God, it had felt right to kiss her. She fit perfectly in his arms. And she had responded to his every touch.
He couldn’t get what she’d said out of his head.
Desire. Need. Chemistry. That last one was probably more like it. At least for Annie. He knew exactly how he felt about her. Had for years, but had never been able to say the words.
When she was eighteen, she’d still been too young.
After he’d been shot, he’d considered telling her, had let himself think about the possibility. He’d learned an awful hard lesson about how fleeting life was.
But she’d never come to visit him. He knew she’d come home with Janey from college. He’d waited for her to show up, prayed she would without him having to ask for her.
But she never had. He’d respected her obvious indifference and he’d stayed away.
Now… Hell, he didn’t know. She’d thrown him for a loop tonight. Good thing he was going away for a few days.
Chapter Six
Friday afternoon, Nic picked up a wrench, determined to get this nut to cry uncle.
The garage was closed for the day. Mags and her father-in-law, Nic’s Uncle John, owned the business and they always closed early on Fridays.
He and Toni had the garage to themselves. Usually they spent Sundays working on the vintage Indian motorcycle Nino had bought only weeks before he’d died. But last Sunday Nic had been in Baltimore searching for Tiff Jones’s scumbag ex-husband who had somehow managed to elude him. Because he couldn’t keep his mind on the job.
And just a few minutes ago, he’d scraped his knuckles open trying to get this nut off. Because he’d had a flashback to the last kiss he’d shared with Annie. He’d been having those flashes all week.
“Hand me that socket wrench, kid.”
Toni popped up from the other side of the bike, where she’d been changing the spark plugs. She’d inherited Nino’s aptitude for motors. Nino had been as good, if not better, than Nic with anything mechanical. If it broke, they could fix it.
“Here ya go.” Toni handed it over the seat with a flourish worthy of an emergency-room nurse. “Didn’t you get that free yet?”
His lips twitched at the mock disdain in her voice.
“You just worry about getting those plugs in, kid. Hey, how was the dance?”
Silence descended. All Nic could hear was AC/DC singing about shaking all night long from the boombox on the counter along the wall.
Finally, she said, “It was okay. I don’t think I’ll go to another one, though.”
Nic hesitated before speaking, knowing from experience he was entering dangerous teenage-girl territory. “Oh yeah? That bad, huh?”
Getting up on his knees so he could see over the bike, he slipped Toni a look and noticed a faint blush on her cheeks.
“No. I mean, it was fun dancing with my friends, but…” she shrugged again and didn’t finish.
His eyes narrowed. “Somebody give you a hard time?”
There was that shrug again. “Nah. It’s stupid. This guy…”
Again, she hesitated, but Nic had heard the magic word. “What guy?” he said through clenched teeth.
She sighed, “Tim Patterson,” then shot a look toward the door. It remained closed. She must have seen what she wanted because she said, “He asked me to dance.”
Okay, that didn’t sound too bad. “And?”
“Oh, never mind.”
It took a huge effort, but he said, “Okay” and returned to the nut. He’d discovered this tactic with Janey. If he waited long enough, she’d eventually tell him everything. He just had to be patient. As patient as he could be, anyway. He never seemed to have enough. Just look what had happened with Annie—
“It’s just… I don’t know how to dance with a guy.”
The defensive tone of her voice bit right through to his soul. Damn and double damn. If Nino had been alive, he would’ve taught her to dance. It’s one of those things dads did with daughters.
Nic had two left feet. But if Toni wanted to learn how to dance, he’d find a way to teach her. He’d watched her take her first steps, helped her ride her first bike. The only thing he hadn’t been able to do was save her father.
Careful not to show anything other than casual interest, he stood. “Want me to practice with you?”
The look Toni gave him radiated pure joy, making him smile in return.
Then she shrugged and tried to downplay it
. “Sure, if you don’t mind.”
Walking over to the CD player on the counter, he wiped oil from his hands with a rag and dug around for what he wanted. When he found it, he popped out AC/DC in the middle of “Hell’s Bells” and put in Led Zeppelin.
“Come on. Let’s see if I even remember how.”
*
“Hey, Annie, you seen Nic today?”
Jimmy stood in her office doorway, his normally cheerful expression clouded with concern.
“No, I haven’t.” She stopped typing Grace’s report on a runaway wife, her attention held by Jimmy’s obvious concern. “Is something wrong?”
He hesitated then smiled, though she could tell he’d forced it. “Nah. Nothing important. But if he calls in, tell him I want to talk to him, okay?”
“Jimmy, wait.”
He stopped and turned but couldn’t hold her gaze. Then she knew something was up.
Even though she and Jimmy were close, she’d never taken advantage of their friendship the way she was about to. “What’s going on?”
An indiscernible look in his pale blue-green eyes, Jimmy leaned against the doorjamb, running his hand through shaggy black hair. “What do you mean? There’s nothing going on.”
Bingo. Jimmy always fiddled with his hair when he lied. It’s why he’d never make a decent investigator.
Nic barley ever showed any weakness.
She put her hands on her hips. “Cut the crap. I overheard Nic on the phone the other night.” There. She’d surprised him. But she wasn’t about to apologize for eavesdropping. She worked here, too. His parents trusted her enough to hire her. And damn it, she was scared. In the past week Nic had been gone, she’d worried every single day about what he was into now. “Don’t lie to me. What’s going on?”
Jimmy lips twitched, as if he wanted to smile then thought better of it. “It’s not my story to tell. I’m sorry, Annie.”
She huffed, but she hadn’t expected Jimmy to cough up anything important. Nic was his brother, after all. And family loyalty was everything to the DeMarcos. If Nic didn’t want anyone else to know what was going on, Jimmy would slit his own throat before telling.
“So do you know where he is?”
She nodded. “He left me a voice mail, said he’d be at the garage.”
Jimmy’s smile returned. “Would you mind doing a little errand for me?”
Chapter Seven
Music leaked from every corner of DeMarco Garage.
Annie heard it the second she left the air-conditioned coolness of her car. The early May afternoon had turned into a warm one and her cap-sleeved sweater and linen skirt clung to her back and legs. A closed sign hung in the window of one of the bay doors, but the music belied someone’s presence. She saw no one in the office to the right of the bays, so she walked around the side. Finding an unlocked door, she pushed through.
Throbbing guitars and a harsh scream heralded her arrival. It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust from the harsh sunlight to the dim interior. The only lights shining were those on the far side of the building, and her view was obstructed by a pickup truck on a lift, minus its wheels.
Threading between wheeled carts and heavy machinery, she walked around the truck and caught her breath at the sight before her. She fell back before she knew what she was doing, not wanting to disturb them.
Nic led a young girl with a long dark ponytail around a bare spot on the concrete floor. The girl watched her sneaker-clad feet more than Nic, but when she looked up, the expression on her face was nothing short of worshipful.
Annie couldn’t help a small smile. Nic must be immune to that look by now. He’d certainly gotten it enough from her when she’d been around this girl’s age.
The girl had to be family. She had the distinctive dark hair and DeMarco nose. Jimmy was the only DeMarco she knew who hadn’t inherited that nose.
She’d take a bet that this was Toni, Nino’s daughter. She hadn’t seen the girl for a few years.
Nic never took his eyes off of her and he wore a smile she’d only ever seen him give Janey.
When she was younger, Annie had lived for the day he’d flash one at her.
He never had.
Holding the girl loosely in his arms, Nic walked her in a slow circle in time to the music, trying to lead her. The top of Toni’s head had several inches to go before it met Nic’s chin and her left hand barely reached his shoulder. Both were dressed in ragged jeans—cutoffs for Toni—and holey t-shirts covered with grease.
To a woman who usually dated guys in thousand dollar suits, Nic was the sexiest man she’d ever known.
Hitching in a deep breath, she tried desperately not to sigh. And failed.
Somehow, Nic heard her. His blue gaze arrowed straight to where she stood, half hidden by the truck. She immediately straightened, and Nic and Toni stopped dancing.
She couldn’t tell if he was angry. He didn’t look angry. He looked…sad and happy at the same time. He’d been smiling at the girl, but his eyes… Oh, those eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
And that voice. Raspy and deep.
“I… Nothing. I’m sorry to interrupt, but your brother had something for you.” She held out the large manila envelope Jimmy had given her. She’d never have opened it, but she couldn’t help wondering what was in it.
Nic’s expression tightened but he didn’t reach for the envelope.
Toni looked from Nic to the envelope to Annie, her expression as curious as only a pre-teen’s could be. And when she looked at Annie, that curiosity turned to faint jealousy.
Annie knew exactly how she felt. She smiled at Toni.
“Hello. I’m Annie Reed. You must be Toni. I’ve heard a lot about you from your cousins.” Annie offered her hand. She’d always hated the way adults had addressed her as a child, with pats on the head and condescending smiles.
Toni took her hand immediately. “Nice to meet you, Miss Reed. Do you work for Aunt Grace and Uncle Frank?”
“Yes, I do. And please call me Annie. I’m sorry to interrupt, but,” she directed this at Nic, “Jimmy thought you’d want to see this. He couldn’t bring it over himself.”
Nic nodded but still made no move to take it. Instead, he said, “Toni and I seem to be having a little communication problem with this lesson. I think we need a professional’s help.”
Professional, huh? Well, she was by no means a professional, and frankly, she’d had no idea Nic knew she danced. Janey must have told him.
“Do you teach dance?” Toni expression lightened a little.
“No, but I’ve been dancing all my life. Ballet until I was nineteen, then I got into ballroom dancing. So, what sort of problem are you having?”
Toni snorted loudly. “Nic’s not all that good.”
Nic shrugged, but the smile he gave the girl was indulgent. “Yeah, well, I was born without the dancing gene. Sue me.”
Toni’s upper lip curl was worthy of Elvis. “Two left feet and absolutely no rhythm. He’s got no clue.”
Annie watched the banter between the two of them and couldn’t believe the jealousy she had to beat back. Awful as it sounded, she envied Nic’s young cousin and the easy camaraderie they shared.
“So, can you help us out here?”
Nic’s question snapped her back to the conversation. The DeMarcos looked at her with identical expressions of expectation. They could have passed for father and daughter.
Swallowing hard, Andrea put on a smile and walked over to Toni.
“What kind of dancing are we talking about? Your basic boy-girl dance or are you looking for something with a little more…energy?”
Toni sucked in her bottom lip. “Slow dancing.”
Annie nodded gravely. “That can be tricky. But really it’s just a matter of moving to the music, getting a rhythm with your partner. Do you like to dance?”
Toni nodded. “Yeah. Everybody says I get that from my dad. Mom said he loved to dance.”
“Then that’
s all you need. Come stand in front of me.”
Toni moved to face her with a wry expression. “You’re not gonna get all ‘Dirty Dancing’ on me, are you?”
Annie grinned. “Only if you promise not to subject me to any more Zeppelin. Got anything from this decade, Nic?”
His slow smile made the air drag in her lungs. “I think I can dig up something appropriate. Hang on.”
Beating back the sudden need to throw herself at him, she focused on Toni and shook out her arms. “The key to dancing is not stiffening up. Don’t lock your knees or your arms. Start out simply swaying to the music.”
A slow-paced Dave Matthews Band song streamed from the CD player, and she flashed a smile at Nic, whose intent expression sent her pulse pounding.
Ooh-kay.
“Nic, come over here and let’s try this again.”
He walked over, gaze never leaving hers. “Maybe she needs to see it demonstrated first.”
Annie swore her blood thickened. When he looked at her like that, the world could stop because nothing else mattered. Not their history. Not the fact that she’d spent years telling herself she hated him.
He looked at her with those blue eyes and she wanted to drown in him. Instead, she took the hand he held out and let him draw her into the circle of his arms.
It wasn’t close enough. It would never be close enough unless he told her he loved her and took her to his bed. It didn’t have to be in that order.
And beggars can’t be choosers.
She placed her left hand on his shoulder as he put his right hand on her hip.
Nic started to move in a slow circle and Annie followed, years of training allowing her to follow his every move perfectly even while her brain was disconnected. He wasn’t a great dancer—too stiff—but that didn’t matter. For years, she’d longed to be right here, in his arms.
Drawing in a deep breath, she let his scent seep into her system—a hint of spice, motor oil and pure Nic.
He stared into her eyes, that steady blue gaze hypnotizing, and she nearly stumbled.
“Easy, hon.” His voice brushed against her skin, raising goosebumps. “I’m the one with two left feet, remember?”
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