"I'll call Geoff," Tanner said, and assured him they'd be in touch.
Troy clicked off the phone and Dezi darted a quick glance his way before returning to her rear survey. "What did he say?"
He glanced over at her pale face. "Dezi. Dez, I hate having to tell you this, but Tanner heard some talk that there might be another...another assassination attempt. But this time on—"
"Me."
He almost pitched them both through the windshield when his foot trod on the brake. "What? You knew?"
"I heard a rumor too."
Appalled, he continued to stare at her, while his belly rolled like a cement mixer. "And you didn't say anything?"
"Say anything to who?" She sent him an impatient glance. "Turn around. Take me back to the hotel."
"Forget it." He stomped his foot on the gas pedal again. Why did she do this to him? How could one woman make such chaos? "That's likely where the bad guy was staked out and found you."
"I'll be safe enough in my room—"
"Like hell!"
She rolled her eyes. "Until I make some calls. Then I'm leaving town. With a bodyguard."
Someone was going to be guarding her body, all right. "You're with me. Get used to it." He was going to be the one to keep her safe.
"Your Marine streak is showing, Troy, but I don't need your pity."
"Pity!"
"I can afford to hire someone to—"
"You make me nuts!" Goaded beyond reason, he threw her phone in her lap. "Check your messages. Then tell me you can 'hire' someone to give you that."
He was nuts. A sane man would snatch the phone back and throw it as far as his long arm could reach. A sane man wouldn't pull into the same parking lot he'd pulled out of just a few minutes ago. But everything inside him was a mess, with emotions making their noisy demands, and common sense trying to offer up its two pennies too.
Never let her leave you!
Get away before she shakes you to pieces!
His own voice suddenly pierced the cacophony of inner turmoil, sounding tinny but urgent as his words replayed through her cell. "Dez. Dez. God, baby. God."
Troy stared out the windshield, watching a wave make its way to shore.
"I miss you."
Desirée made a hiccup of sound. From the corner of his eye he saw her cover her mouth with her palm. The rat's nest that was his gut roiled and boiled.
"And I'm God damn in love with you!"
He closed his eyes, ready to splinter into a million pieces, and unwilling to watch her face as she broke him, as he'd always known she would. He'd been a warrior, but there was no defense, no armor or weapon, against this.
"Call me. Call me right this minute."
As if on cue, Troy's own phone let out its distinctive peal. Certain it was Tanner, he fumbled for it blindly, then brought it to his ear.
"You should check your messages," a soft voice said. Through the phone. From the seat beside him.
He opened his eyes, but he didn't look at Desirée. His heart was pounding, the noise inside of him getting louder and louder as he pressed the buttons to access his phone mail. Then he lifted his phone to his ear again, uncertain if he'd be able to hear anything over the chaotic thumping of his heart.
But there was her voice. Dezi's voice, breathless, thinned by fear. His belly clenched. "I'm being followed. A car...it bashed into me. I think I lost him, but...but if I didn't...Troy, just so you know...oh, I'm sure you won't want to know, but I have to tell you. I have to tell you I love you. 'Bye."
The phone went quiet. In a quick swoosh, the noise inside Troy did the same, going from scream, to yell, to murmur, to silence.
He turned to the woman beside him, his voice sounding loud in his ears. "''Bye'? That's it?"
"What?" Her face looked tired, but her smile was radiant. "You've already forgotten all the mushy stuff before that?"
"No," he admitted. "I'll never forget that mushy stuff. Not for the rest of my life, Dez. But ' 'Bye'? I'm not letting you get away now, you know."
"I've never had anyone before." A flush took away some of her pallor. "Not just in bed, but never anyone who didn't want me to get away. Never anyone to...to depend upon. Like that. Like you."
And then it happened. All his fears came true.
In his old beat-up van, in front of the beach where he'd spent the happiest years of his life, macho Marine Troy Hart's heart split. His palm flew up, but that didn't help. Nothing kept that rent in his chest from opening wider—and letting Desirée further in. Funny, though, that even as he despaired about the break, it started healing over again, all the rifts and cracks he'd been worrying about since meeting her mending, leaving him harder on the outside. Softer within.
But strong. Strong and at peace.
He'd been a warrior. And now, now he was a lover. Whole.
Without looking away from Dezi's face, he thumbed the buttons on his phone and left a message for Tanner. "If you need us, we'll be at the desert house with Mom and Dad." She'd be safe there, with something else that he could give to her besides himself—his family.
Troy smiled, wondering if it was tears that were making her eyes so bright. "No flirting with my dad, now."
Her lips twitched. "Oh, you can count on it."
He laughed. His gruff, louder-than-life father was going to melt into a puddle of whatever-Dezi-wants goo, just the way he did with Troy's mother. Then he sobered. "And you can count on me too, don't you ever doubt that, Ms. Magna Cum Laude."
"Or you'll kick my butt into Monday, Mr. Semper Fi?"
"That's right." He reached for her, pulling her into his lap. "Just remember it. Semper fidelis, baby. You know what that means, right? Always faithful."
FROM THE DESK OF HANNAH DAVIS
Things I Hate About New Year's:
Agreeing with my mother that it's shaping up to be yet another year without her getting a grandchild.
Chapter Twenty-Five
At midday, Hannah's small collection of belongings was packed in a new duffel bag and stashed in the trunk of Tanner's Mercedes, and the two of them were headed out of the Hotel Del Coronado parking lot. She looked back over her shoulder, mentally pinkie-waving it good-bye.
"We could have packed up Desirée's things and checked her out too," she said.
"And waste the rest of your vacation days? I've never seen so much female stuff in all my life. My mother will jump for joy to have such a girly-girl in the family, but Troy's going to have to add on to his house."
"Really?" Hannah glanced over at Tanner. "Do you really think Troy and Desirée—"
"Oh, yeah. I've seen it coming for a while. They're lifers now."
The prison-sentence reference only underscored the importance of what she had to do next. "Tanner, I want you to take me to a hotel."
There was a long pause. "I thought we talked about this."
"No, we didn't talk about it."
"You only have a few more days here. You're welcome at my place."
A few more days. That was all. And that was already too much. "I couldn't impose—"
"You imposed on Dezi."
She grimaced. "That was slightly different."
"Glad to hear it. Not that the thought of you and Dez sharing a bed and doing the girl-on-girl thing isn't interesting, but—"
"Tanner..." He was trying to distract her for some reason. Blowing out a breath, she looked out the window and tried to think of an easy way out without going into the "I've done something stupid and fallen in love with you" explanation.
Her gaze caught on an upcoming street sign. Amstead Avenue. "Wait. Stop."
"What?" Slowing the car, he glanced over at her again. "What is it?"
"I'm...I'm hungry. And I heard this was a great street for restaurants." He frowned at her.
So she pasted on her best smile. "Please, Tanner. Let me buy you lunch."
The parking gods were kind to him, so she didn't have a chance to rethink her lunch suggestion until they were out of the c
ar and he slid an arm around her shoulder and hugged her close to his side.
They fit perfectly together, she thought. And every minute more they spent as a couple was only going to make not seeing him that much harder.
He brushed a kiss on her temple. "What do you feel like eating? We have several options."
How could he be so casual about the affection and the doling out of kisses when the end of both was right in sight? She should have insisted on going to a hotel immediately. "Maybe we shouldn't—"
"No wiggling out of the lunch offer now, sweetheart. This is on you, remember? Should we do Italian? Or the sandwich place over there?"
Hannah bit her lip. She'd seen the street sign and impulsively called for him to stop, but it wasn't as if she could confront Caroline with Tanner at her elbow. "Let's, um, check over the different menus." If she saw the other woman, she'd make note of the restaurant and come back alone later.
But soon. She was running out of vacation, having spent most of it letting her heart run away with her.
There was no one obviously Caroline at the sandwich shop, or at the Italian restaurant, the yogurt and salads café, or The Eggcellent Stop on the corner. "Picky, picky, picky," Tanner murmured as they crossed to check out the places on the other side of the street.
He threaded his fingers through hers and slanted her a lazy, oh-too-sexual glance. "If we get take-out, we can eat lunch in bed."
Her knees softened, picturing it in her mind—no. She primmed her mouth like the schoolmarm she needed to remember she was. "I told you, after lunch you're taking me to a hotel."
"Is that any way to end your vacation? With maids and nosy front desk people? Especially when we have my private little house just waiting—the perfect place to finish off our fling."
Finish off our fling. Hannah's feet stopped moving, but Tanner's didn't, and their linked arms stretched across the sidewalk. She had to finish this now. Right this minute.
"Tanner—"
"Hart!" someone called. "Tanner Hart!"
They both looked around. Down the block, a couple was waving at them from a sidewalk table outside a Mexican café.
"Hey!" Tanner grinned and tugged on her hand. "C'mon. There're some people I want you to meet."
The other couple was Finn Jacobson and Bailey Sullivan. Finn, a former coworker of Tanner's, had a pirate vibe going with his dark hair and eye patch, while Bailey was a blue-eyed blonde who looked small enough to fit in her escort's back pocket. The way he was snuggled next to her, that might not be close enough to satisfy him.
"Join us," the pirate said, sitting again, then scooting his chair even closer to Bailey's. "We haven't ordered yet."
Tanner pulled out one of the empty chairs for Hannah. What could she do but sit?
Finn released a long whistle. "Manners, Hart? You must be spending time with your mama."
Bailey picked up the roll of architectural drawings on the table in front of them and bopped him on the head. "Leave him alone. Not everyone grew up with the grand ambition of joining the Hell's Angels."
"But then I joined the Secret Service instead. And found myself an angel, GND."
Bailey smiled, obviously pleased, and glanced over at Hannah. "GND. Girl Next Door. I fell in love with this hunka hunka burning love when I was eleven."
"She means she made me miserable until Christmas Day, just two weeks ago," Finn confided.
"But now we're engaged."
There was an interesting ring on Bailey's left hand. Instead of a traditional diamond, it was a looped design of gold and silver. As if she couldn't help herself, the blonde ran her forefinger over the metal, wearing a small, secret smile.
Watching her, envy jabbed at Hannah's heart. Wouldn't it be nice if—
"Engaged?" Tanner echoed, then groaned. "Good God. What's wrong with you men? You're falling like dead flies around me."
Bailey frowned at him. "I think that makes me spoiled meat."
Finn patted her shoulder. "Only spoiled for any man that's not your hunka hunka burning love, GND. But what other flies are you talking about, Tanner?"
"Dez bagged Troy. Or Troy bagged Dez. Whatever."
Bailey hooted, then bopped Finn over the head again with the roll of drawings. "Didn't I tell you? I saw the way they were looking at each other at Hart's the other night and knew what was happening, while you, on the other hand, thought I was so bedazzled by romance that I was finding love in all the wrong places."
"You're always right," he answered, his expression pious, then looked over at Hannah and winked. "I'm practicing for marriage."
Bailey sent him a sidelong look, then half turned to give him her shoulder and to smile at Hannah. "So how do you know Tanner?"
She didn't like the speculation in the other woman's eyes. From what Hannah could see, Bailey really was bedazzled by her engagement, and she didn't want her to get the wrong idea about what was going on between her and the man on her left.
"He's my tour guide," she said. "My uncle is Geoff Brooks and he asked Tanner to do him a favor and show me around a little."
"Oh." Bailey's gaze dropped to Hannah's hand, which rested on the table—enclosed in Tanner's.
Though Hannah quickly drew it away to grab her water glass, it was too late to escape the other woman's notice. Bailey looked up at Finn, and then over at Tanner. "Nice work if you can get it."
"A favor, huh?" Finn's eyes narrowed at Tanner too, and then he shifted his gaze to smile at Hannah. "I know your uncle. He's a good man. He's my former boss now too."
Tanner leaned forward. "You quit."
Finn nodded. "You knew it was coming. Without the eye..." He gestured to the patch. It was only desk work for me."
Tanner sighed. "But—"
"But nothing. I already have a new job. There's a firm in town with a fat Department of Homeland Security contract and a lot of work to be done. There's room on my team."
"There's room on the Secret Service team too," Tanner said quietly. "With you gone, and me and Ayesha..."
"Yeah."
Both the men went quiet.
Bailey jumped into the sudden, strangely heavy silence. "Look, before our plates come, I should show off what the architect has planned for The Perfect Christmas." She looked at Hannah as she started to unroll the paper. "My family's store."
Smiling, Hannah nodded in cheery agreement. "Yes. Great. I'd love to see them."
Neither man looked up or acted as if they heard the women. Tanner shifted his chair closer to Finn's. "Speaking of Dez... I should tell you what's happened."
The two of them engaged in a low-voiced conversation, leaving Bailey and Hannah to look over the architectural plans alone. "Hell," said the blonde under her breath. "I was kinda sorta big-time hoping we were going to get through the anniversary without any painful reminders."
"Anniversary?"
Bailey lifted one page of the plans and held it up as a curtain between them and the conversing men. "You know about the assassination attempt?" she asked, her voice a near whisper.
"Yes."
"You know that night that Finn lost his eye and Secret Ser vice agent Ayesha Spencer lost her life?"
Finn's eye patch. Probably something else Tanner thought he could have prevented. "And Tanner lost his reputation...or so he believes."
"Right." Bailey blew out a gusty sigh. "It was a year ago to night."
To night, when Hannah was leaving Tanner to sleep alone in his bed with nothing and no one between him and his bad memories and undeserved guilt.
The waitress arrived with the food they'd ordered, breaking up the separate conversations. Bailey rolled up her plans, and then they all exclaimed as mountains of fragrant Mexican food were placed in front of them.
Tanner declined the waitress's offer to bring him a beer instead of another glass of water as he'd asked. "Nope. I have to keep sharp. Have to run Hart's tonight since Troy and Dez are in Palm Springs." He glanced over at Hannah. "I was hoping to think of some way of bribing you
to help me out, Ms. Davis."
"Oh, I—"
"Owe me. You owe me boatloads for my...service to you these past few days." Under the table his hand found one of hers, resting in her lap.
Service. As his fingers closed over hers, she could feel the blush crawling up her neck at the way he'd said the word and the way he was looking at her. At the way he was touching her. Goose bumps broke out over her skin, fueled by all the memories of all the other touches. And whispers. And moans.
"Now that she's checked out of the Del," he said, "she's going to be staying at my place. Isn't that right, Hannah?"
She looked up, her gaze meeting Bailey's. Hannah remembered the anniversary again. Suddenly she couldn't think of anything but the anniversary. And Tanner needing her help. At the bar, and as a buffer against what would surely arise.
"That's right," she heard herself say. "I'm staying with Tanner until my plane leaves San Diego."
Chapter Twenty-Six
After lunch, Tanner drove to his house, telling Hannah they had a few hours to relax before going to Hart's for the evening shift. But relaxing didn't feel like an option for Hannah at the moment, not with the walls seeming to shrink around her as if unwilling to let her go.
If only Tanner's arms would do the same.
As he puttered with something in the garage, she walked out the sliding French doors that led from his living room to the backyard. On her previous visits she'd merely registered the presence of flagstone patio, potted plants, plot of well-manicured grass from the other side of the glass. Now she stepped into the fresh air and took in a long breath.
The yard was small, but perfect. Two chaise lounges were positioned on the patio, flanking a small fountain that bubbled gently. Terra-cotta pots of red and white geraniums basked in the sunshine here and there, while to the left, on the rectangular section of grass, a hammock was stretched between a sycamore and a thick-fronded palm tree.
Tall hedges shielded the property from the neighbors. With only the burbling fountain and the calls and twitters of birds, it was like stumbling upon a secret garden.
Not Another New Year's (Holiday Duet Book 2) Page 20
