Текст книги "Veiled Target"
Автор книги: Robin Bielman
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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 18 страниц)
Chapter Nine
“Don’t move and don’t make a sound,” Hugh said.
“But—”
“You heard me.” He nudged her back until she landed in a chair at the kitchen table. “Stay put.”
Tess grumbled. “I’m not—”
Another knock sounded, louder and more urgent.
“Yeah, whatever you’re not, suck it up. I’ll be right back.”
Hugh was pretty sure the visitor was his neighbor, Blanche. She kept an eye on the house for him. Fed the plants. Kept the place stocked with basic food and drink items—more if she knew he was coming. A mother, assistant and housekeeper rolled into one. He appreciated her help, but damn, the woman was too efficient, too watchful. At least when he didn’t want her to be.
He opened the door and, sure enough, there she stood.
As usual, she wore the plaid robe that had been her husband’s before he passed away, bright yellow slippers, and curlers in her dyed-red hair. Back in the day—that was what she’d say—she worked as an extra in dozens of films. Considered herself a sub-starlet. Her stories cracked Hugh up. Once a month she did a set at the Laugh Factory in Hollywood. Always had the biggest crowd.
“I thought you were on vacation,” she scolded.
“Hi Blanche. Nope. I’m supposed to leave tomorrow.”
“I thought it was today. Didn’t you say the fourteenth? I could have sworn you said the fourteenth.” With her hands on her hips, she looked ready to barge right past him.
He blocked the doorway. A tiny bit of guilt overcame him. He knew she only wanted some company.
“The fifteenth, Blanche. But I won’t be leaving then either. I’ve got work to do so won’t get out of here for at least a few more days. I’ll let you know when I do. I appreciate all your help, you know.”
She tightened the knot around her waist. “I know, son. I didn’t recognize the car coming up the drive, so thought I’d better check it out.” She took a sniff that scrunched her nose and worried her eyebrows. “I smell perfume. Is someone here with you?”
Damn. He didn’t want her to know that yes, someone was here with him. Not that he couldn’t trust Blanche. He knew he could. And hell, how many seventy-five year-olds would be wise enough to notice an unusual car at eleven o’clock at night? Or have a better sense of smell than most women half her age? Indeed, what worried him was her tenacity.
“Actually there is.” She’d just figure out he was lying, and he didn’t want to jeopardize their relationship. “And we’d love some privacy for the next couple of days.” He winked, really just to see her reaction.
“Well what are you doing standing here talking to me then? Get back inside.” She waved over her shoulder and then hopped on her Vespa to get home. The scooter, a gift from her son, got her around the neighborhood. Hugh’s wasn’t the only door-to-door calling she made. Blanche called herself the resident neighborhood watcher.
Tess was right where he’d left her. With one startling difference.
Her hands were free.
His surprised expression must have said it all.
“You left these when you went to answer the door.” She held up the scissors he hadn’t realized he’d put down when leaving the kitchen.
She hadn’t escaped. She hadn’t come to the door. She’d freed herself and stayed put. He ran a hand along his stubbled jaw. “Thanks for waiting.”
“No problem. Blanche sounds like a sharp cookie. I like her.” She put the scissors on the table and rubbed her wrists.
“How’d you—”
“You didn’t really think I’d sit still did you? Especially after I got this annoying tape off.” She kicked the tape that lay crumpled by her foot. “I can tiptoe with the best of them. And my hearing may not be as good as yours, but it is good.”
Hugh registered her comments, but couldn’t speak. He noticed her wrists were red, maybe swollen. His muscles went rigid at the thought of his causing her pain. He’d been a jerk to leave the tape on so long. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll live.” She released her wrists and slid her hands under her thighs on the edge of the chair. The blue dress hid the damage to her skin. “Unless, of course, I die from starvation, which is quickly becoming a possibility.”
If food made her feel better, he wanted to start cooking. “Let’s see what we’ve got.”
The fridge had eggs, cheese, apples, carrots, root beer and bread. The freezer had a lot more to offer, but he didn’t want to wait for anything to defrost.
“At this point I’d be happy with peanut butter and jelly.” She slid off her shoes and skimmed her feet back and forth along the floor like a young girl.
That could be done, but he decided to offer something a little better. “How about a cheese omelet followed by root beer floats?” He pulled out the carton of eggs and package of cheese and put them on the counter.
“That sounds great. I haven’t had a root beer float in forever. Do you need any help?”
He zeroed in on the gleam in her eyes. “I’ve got it. You relax. It’s the least I can do after you saved my life, and I dragged you here.”
Her gaze held his. “You mean abducted me.”
“Are you complaining?”
“Just having the last word.”
Hugh let out an exasperated sigh. The woman drove him crazy. Crazy good. “So what’s your last name?” He should know that. It would make things easier if he needed to do something about the hit on him.
“Damon,” she said without skipping a beat.
She might be lying, he thought, but Tess Damon had a nice ring to it. Besides, there was no point in lying to him now. He knew her agenda.
“Tess Damon. Eliminator for P.I.E. Anything else I should know about you?” He dropped the stirred eggs into the pan on the stove.
“I’m also known as Apple.”
That grabbed his attention away from the cooking. He looked over his shoulder to find her checking out the kitchen. Her legs still swayed. She’d tilted her head back to take in the ceiling.
“Apple as in the fruit, or apple as in apple of my eye?”
She dropped her chin. “Aww, aren’t you sweet? Who knew?” A teasing lift of her eyebrows punctuated her reply. “It’s apple for apple pie.”
“You didn’t just give me your code name did you?” He grabbed a spatula out of the drawer and tilted the pan while keeping an eye on her.
Her expression shifted to a look of consternation. Oops. She’d let her defenses down. He took it as a sign she was comfortable with him. His muscles relaxed, the nervous energy circulating inside him subsided.
“Crap. I guess I did. But no worries. I figure when this is all over, one of us will be dead so we can pretty much say whatever we want to each other.”
The solid circle of egg he flipped almost slid out of the pan. Good thing he had quick reflexes. Righting it, he let what she’d just said sink in. Silence ensued for the next couple minutes while he finished. Then he got out two plates, cut the large omelet in half, and put a plate down in front of her. He took the seat across the table to keep some space between them. And even that wasn’t enough. Her scent made him hungry for a lot more than food.
“Thanks. It looks great.”
“What did you mean by one of us will be dead? I was under the impression I’m the only one with a death sentence.” Something else bothered her, and he wanted to know what.
She squirmed in her seat as if just realizing what she’d let slip. Again. “Oh, I just meant…” She took a bite of her omelet. “This is good. You’re not a bad cook.”
While chewing, he said, “You’re not getting out of answering the question.”
Quickly stuffing another bite into her mouth, she avoided talking for a little longer. Probably to try and think of something to say that would appease him.
“Can I have a glass of water?”
He got her some water. “Quit stalling, Tess. Talk.”
“Look, I don’t want to involve you in my problems. Let’s just keep this to finding our two missing people and go from there.”
“That’s where I’m assuming death comes into play. What sort of problem do you have?”
“Hugh,” she said with a tone that was appreciative but not conceding.
Contemplation crossed her face as she took one last bite of food. He was getting used to seeing the look, seeing the stress in her forehead. He imagined she didn’t confide in many people, kept deeply personal things to herself. Much like he did. It was easier. Safer to keep people at bay.
“You said we could say whatever we want to each other.”
“That didn’t include sharing secrets.” She ran her fingers through her blonde hair.
Frustration bubbled inside him. Was he so damn difficult with people who wanted to help him? “So somebody wants you dead?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No. You implied it.”
“No. You’re putting words in my mouth.”
He bore in mind that she was a P.I.E. operative, trained to keep her distance from others. He didn’t know how long she’d been working for them, but he supposed quite some time given her fearlessness and attitude.
She didn’t waver in her stare as she leaned her elbows on the table and clasped her hands in front of her. Hugh tensed at seeing her wrists pink from the duct tape.
Instinctively, he reached out to take her hands in his. The pads of his thumbs rubbed over her wrists. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“Don’t be.” She made no move to break their contact. “If you hadn’t secured the tape tight enough, I would have gotten free.”
Her pulse quickened under his thumbs, her chest rose and fell. He was immensely in tune to every breath she took, and try as he might, he couldn’t hold back a gulp. Putting no blame on him proved how independent she was, how she didn’t want anyone’s sympathy or pity. He took heed and returned to the topic he wouldn’t let go until she gave him some answers.
“I’d like to help you.”
“You are. I’m convinced having someone with your”—she paused—“background will finally get me the guy I’ve been after.”
“I don’t mean that help. I mean help with whoever wants to kill you. I’m not a fool. I know about P.I.E. I know it’s dangerous. And I know when something’s wrong with you. Let me help.”
By the pained look on her face, he could tell his words meant something to her.
“Why?” Confusion marred the one word she’d chosen. “Why would you want to help me when…when all is said and done, my assignment is to kill you?”
“Tell me, Tess.” The physical contact between them, while simple, filled him with a complex desire to rescue her.
“No.”
“Tell me or—”
“Or what?” She yanked her arms back. “You’ll kill me yourself? Go for it. I’d like to see you try.”
“Or I’ll have to guess.” He slid his arms back to his sides. “And I think I’ve already got a pretty good hunch as to what’s going on.”
“Don’t tell me Night Runners can read minds too.” She shifted her eyes away from him for the first time since he’d sat.
He let a tiny smile cross his lips. “No. I can’t hear the words going through your head.”
“That’s good. Here’s my hunch. You’re the kind of guy who reasons longer than I’ve got time for. You’ve got that elaborate office setup, which means you’re a planner, a thinker, someone who has to have things all mapped out before he moves into action.”
She wasn’t too far off the mark. However, he relied on his instincts out in the field. “Tell me.” This time he included a growl.
“You go first, Mr. Know-It-All.”
Which meant she’d go second. He’d take it. “P.I.E.’s been hired to kill me. You’re the eliminator. You’re excellent at your job. Probably the best agent they’ve got. You work alone and you like it. But I think something happened on your last assignment. Maybe your last few, even. I get the sense you’re tiring from the demands your job puts on you.” He relaxed into the chair, pleased to see he had her utmost attention. “Then I come along at the wrong time and mess up your plans. You also like me, which puts a wrinkle in your mission.”
“I do not like you.”
“Yes you do. So let me think out loud here. Maybe you botched your last job. Now I’m next in line and things are…muddy. You’ve never asked for help before, and now you’re confused. We’ve struck a deal, and I don’t think you’ve ever done that either. What happens if you fail an assignment? Do you suffer any consequences?”
He pictured her standing at the end of a gangplank ready to jump into the rough seas rather than come clean and answer any questions. She looked that uncomfortable, that annoyed with him.
“Why are you doing this?” Her voice finally teetered on the edge of concession.
“Hell if I know, but we met tonight for a reason. It was unintentional, unplanned. Maybe it was fate or karma or Trey’s bad luck. Whatever it was, the fact remains we’re both here right now to help each other. No secrets. No judgments. Just two people willing to go where most others won’t.”
“I don’t talk to anyone, Hugh.” Her shoulders sagged as she admitted what he’d already guessed. She blinked in rapid succession, her long lashes reminding him that she was vulnerable, that inside her tough girl exterior was a marshmallow core. She just didn’t want anyone to see it.
“Me either.” He was getting to her—he could sense it.
“How about that root beer float first?”
“Tell me,” he said again. She was right about him. He’d take all the time necessary to get an answer from her.
“You’re not going to give up are you?” She crossed her arms.
He did the same. “No.”
“Fine. Whatever. Yes, I may have f-f-faltered during my last assignment. And the one before that, there was a problem as well. But it’s just a fluke. Nothing my boss needs to be worried about. Only he is. And he’s pissed at me. And well, he said this was my last chance.”
She let out enough air to fill a balloon and make it pop.
The boss. Finally, they were getting somewhere. “Your boss is going to kill you if you don’t kill me?”
“Most likely.”
He rubbed his chin. “What if I’m innocent?”
“Haven’t met an innocent yet.” Her eyes betrayed her words, and he got the impression she might just think him innocent. For now, anyway.
“I don’t suppose you can quit?”
“Sure. When I’m dead.” She smiled. The kind of tight-lipped smile that put a person a little on edge. “So can I have that root beer float now?”
He’d pressured her enough for one evening. It was time to ease off. A fierce need to protect her coursed through his blood, like it had when Max had been so distraught over Heather’s death. He couldn’t save his brother. Maybe he could save Tess. His heart lurched at the notion. In a very short time, she had wiggled her way into his heart.
It’s because she saved your life. Nothing more.
“Absolutely.” He rose, grabbed their plates, tossed them in the sink and located a couple of tall glasses. “Vanilla or chocolate?” he asked, pulling tubs of each out of the freezer.
“How about a scoop of each?”
His kind of girl.
His kind of girl. That thought repeated itself over and over again in his mind as he prepared the floats.
They ate in silence, the quiet not at all uncomfortable. Something he couldn’t put his finger on—camaraderie? obligation? desire?—lingered in the air between them. He tried not to pay too close attention to her, tried not to fall deeper into her allure. The cold dessert did nothing to squelch the heat running through him at a marathon pace.
“Ready to hit the sack?”
She choked on the last slide of her ice cream and cleared her throat. “With you?”
God, how he’d love to finish what that life-saving kiss had started. “You offering?”
“No! I’m not offering.” She pushed to her feet and then with a softer tone added, “Are you asking?”
Ah. The unnamed air mixture just got thicker. The last time he’d felt this hungry for a female was, well, never. Never this out of his mind eager. Desirous. Every other woman he’d spent any amount of time with paled in comparison to Tess.
But it couldn’t happen. Not tonight. Not under these circumstances.
He turned a cold shoulder. And planned on a cold shower.
“I’ve got a guest room this way.”
“Oh, okay. Great. Any chance I could get my purse out of the car first?” She followed him with her shoes dangling in one hand.
It took every ounce of strength he had not to spin around, scoop her up, and carry her to his bedroom. Forget about the plan to keep his paws off.
“I’ll grab it for you later.”
“I could really use it now.”
So that all your compact-size weapons are handy. I don’t think so. “Let me get you in your room first.”
The sleeping arrangements were going to come as a surprise to her. She’d be mad as hell, but he couldn’t take any chance of her escaping or snooping around. Trust, he knew, carried a different interpretation by different people.
“Here we are.” He opened the door to the bedroom next to his and led her in. “There’s a bathroom just through there”—he nodded his head toward a closed door—“and extra blankets in the closet if you need them.”
She did a quick survey of the room. “Thanks.”
“Good night then.”
“Good night.” She stayed right where she was, just inside the room, as he retreated.
He shut the door behind him. And then he locked her inside.
Tess heard the click and raced to try the door handle. It was locked.
“Hugh! You did not just lock me in here,” she yelled, pounding on the door.
No answer.
“Hugh, goddammit. Unlock this door! I’m not some animal you can lock away. What happened to trusting each other?” She beat her fists on the door. “Hugh!”
It was no use. He wasn’t going to unlock the door. He probably stood right on the other side, smiling like the conniving wolfen he was. And she couldn’t really blame him. The truth was, if he hadn’t locked her in the room, she’d have escaped.
Her options were zip now. She turned and leaned against the door in defeat. A closer look around the room revealed only a small window, no bigger than a shoe box. That should have been the first thing she noticed and tipped her off immediately. This was the prisoner’s quarters. You can enter, but never leave.
She grumbled on the way to the bathroom. Big shower, double sink. No window. The grumble turned to a mumble that included the many ways she thought to get even with him.
A warm shower sounded good so she turned it on and got undressed. Clothes. She had no clothes aside from the awful blue dress she refused to put back on her body. She’d wear a towel before she put that clingy thing back on.
As she stood under a steady stream of hot water, she took a deep breath and let her mind float back to the feelings she’d been trying her damndest to keep at bay. Feelings that unsettled her because they were deeper than anything she’d felt before. Even with Jason. Despite being a half shifter, Hugh was more man than she’d ever dreamed possible.
And she wanted him.
Never had she opened up to someone like she’d done with him tonight. Heck, for five years, Kensie and Francesca had no idea she’d been searching for someone named Dobson. They had no inkling she’d promised Jason she’d find his killer. That she couldn’t give up her search until she got revenge. And hopefully some answers.
Tess had been fairly certain she didn’t need anyone else in her life. The rush she got from work and extreme sports satisfied her. Kept her busy and in touch with all sorts of people. Out on ledges and edges and in crazy-ass settings, she didn’t have time to think about anything or anyone else for very long.
Tonight she thought she might’ve died if Hugh had. She couldn’t explain why, but she agreed with his assessment that it wasn’t a coincidence that brought them together. Fate had dealt her an awful hand with her parents and Jason, and now she’d been thrust into a partnership with a man that turned her inside out. The irony of his being her mark wasn’t lost on her and her past misfortunes. But maybe she wasn’t supposed to kill him? Maybe she was destined to fail a third time.
The way he’d looked at her tonight, the way he’d touched her wrists with care and compassion, the way he’d whipped up a meal for her, assured her his intentions were pure. He’d meant what he said about helping her. And not just with Dobson.
She’d never before thought about turning her back on P.I.E. The organization had given so much to her, she couldn’t imagine leaving under any circumstances. A death threat and Hugh suddenly changed that. Her imagination ran wild.
Stop thinking, Tess. She turned off the water and wrapped up in a soft oversized towel. Exhaustion hit her hard, every inch of her body bone tired. She padded out of the bathroom and headed straight for the bed. She pulled back the comforter, unwrapped the towel, and used it to dry her hair a bit. Then she climbed underneath the sheets, lifted the coverings up to her chin and vowed to get a call in to Kensie or Francesca in the morning. Her purse and some new clothes were also on the list.
Her eyelids fluttered shut less than a minute later, and she allowed herself to be content in the comfort of the downy soft bed. If nothing else, she felt safe. Safe to sleep soundly. Safe to dream happy dreams.
That would not include Hugh, she mused to herself.
Who was she kidding? He’d be starring front and center.
She woke to a click, but didn’t move or stir or budge. The bed was sooo comfy and cozy and maybe if she stayed still, whatever had caused the click would go away.
“Tess,” said an endearing masculine voice. “It’s time to wake up.”
Her eyes opened wide at the sound of the deep, rugged announcement. “Go away. I’m not talking to you.”
“I’ve got a couple things for you,” he answered, ignoring her no-talking policy.
Darkness still filled the room and she wondered what time it was. It felt like she’d had a solid eight hours sleep so it couldn’t be too early. In fact, she felt more rested than she had in a long time. She stayed motionless and quiet.
“I’m coming in.” The downlight above her head turned on.
She didn’t care. His actions didn’t mean she had to act.
Wait. He’s coming in? She sat up, bringing the covers with her. She told herself he didn’t have x-ray vision, but that didn’t stop the tingles popping up all over her body. She was naked, and Hugh was coming into the room.
He wore jeans that sat low on his hips and a plain white T-shirt that clung to his lethally sexy chest muscles. His hair was mussed, like he’d showered and then ran his fingers through it. His face was clean-shaven. His blue eyes deeper than the waters she’d scuba dived in Australia. God, did he have to look so irresistible this morning?
“Good morning.”
She stayed quiet. Because she was mad about being locked in the room or because he took her breath away, she wasn’t sure.
“This no talking thing could work to my advantage.” He stepped closer.
To her nakedness. Did he know she wasn’t wearing anything underneath the sheets? And oh geez, what did her hair look like? Going to sleep with it wet surely meant she had a rat’s nest thing going on.
When he got to the edge of the bed, she watched him venture a peek toward the bathroom. Her eyes followed his and there in plain view were the blue dress and black lace undergarments on the floor.
She pulled the sheets tighter against her. “What time is it?” Talking might get her mind off her birthday suit.
“She speaks.” His eyes held hers with the same mixture of heat and desire she’d noticed last night. “It’s eleven.”
“Eleven? Holy shit. I never sleep this late.” And note to self: Don’t look into his eyes anymore.
He smiled. “Guess you needed it.”
“More like the lack of window space kept the room dark. You’ve got some nerve, you know that?” She ran a hand through her hair to feel what it looked like. Not too bad.
“Do you blame me?”
Admitting she didn’t would not work in keeping him at bay, so she lied. “Yes. I do.” She frowned for further effect.
He dropped something on the bed. “Well, maybe this will make up for it. Clean clothes. And your phone.”
Relief and forgiveness overcame her. Wait. Her phone? “You went through my purse?” It would’ve been a lot better if he’d plopped her bag on the bed, but he was only acting the same way she would have.
“Again, I don’t think you’re surprised. You’ve got some major arsenal in there. It could’ve come in handy with the Banoth. And your driver’s license picture doesn’t do you justice.”
He looked less and less sexy by the minute. “You looked through my wallet? Who the hell do you think—”
“I think I needed to confirm you are who you say you are. Tess Elizabeth Damon.” A grin that would have made her fling the sheets to the side and shout “take me” had she not been so pissed at him for snooping flanked his handsome—no, not handsome!—face.
“I’m a P.I.E. eliminator. What makes you think that license is real? I could be Tess one day and Betty the next.” Tess Damon was her real name, but if anyone looked her up, they’d learn only what P.I.E. wanted them to.
Hugh continued to grin. “You don’t look like a Betty.”
“Screw you.”
“I thought we’d been over that, but I’m willing to revisit it if you—”
“I want you the hell out of this room and away from me.” Her blood boiled. Hugh Langston was goddamn annoying.
He took two steps back. “My pleasure. I’ll get a lot more done without—”
“Wait!” She hated the tone of desperation in her voice. “Toss me my phone, would you?”
She caught it and checked for any sort of bugging device. It was clean. “Thanks. I’m going to call my roommates to let them know I’m okay. Otherwise, there could be trouble. I’m also going to tell them I’ve started my next assignment so I won’t be around.”
“They know you’re Apple Pie?”
The way he threw out the words “apple pie” melted some of her anger. He might not have meant it to, but it sure sounded like a term of endearment coming from his lips. No one had ever called her by a nickname.
She’d come this far with him, so she may as well go the whole way. “I’ll be talking to Peach and Cherry.” The corners of her mouth lifted without permission. It sounded funny. And felt funnier.
It also convinced her she’d lost every one of her brain cells where he was concerned. It took him all of two seconds to get information out of her. He was like truth serum and she liked the way it tasted. Liked feeling a little less alone and like she had someone to confide in.
Hugh looked genuinely taken aback. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. It’s part of this trust thing we’ve got going on.” So keep the door unlocked, please.
He ignored her subtle attempt to get him to reciprocate. “If the clothes don’t fit, let me know and I’ll have Blanche go back out for something else.”
“Blanche went shopping for me? Is she here right now?”
“She’s gone.” He moved toward the door. “I’m pretty good at sizing up people so the clothes should work. I took you for a jeans and T-shirt kind of girl after the way you squirmed in that dress last night.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She hoped she sounded as cantankerous as she felt.
“It means you looked damn hot in it, but probably borrowed it from either Peach or Cherry.”
He thought she looked hot? And how the hell did he know her so well? Her entire body shook at the notion of someone knowing her better than she was comfortable with. Hugh rocked her world on so many levels that she lost her voice.
“You’ve decided to stop talking again?”
She hoped her jaw hadn’t dropped before she finally mustered, “Sorry, um, what was the question? Oh wait, I remember. Yes, I borrowed the dress, smarty-pants. Now get out so I can get dressed.”
Surprisingly, he turned and left without a word. Huh. No comment on the smarty-pants could only mean one thing. He’d allowed her the last word.
Didn’t that just suck?
She dialed home. Kensie picked up on the second ring. “It’s about time you called,” she said without a hello. “We were about ready to come looking for you. If we didn’t know Trey was a good bloke we would’ve been worried to death by now. Not that you can’t take care of yourself. It’s just we’ve been talking nonstop about your date and hypothesizing up the wazoo about what’s going on. So tell me already! What’s going on? I knew you’d like Trey. He’s ace. Are you at his place right now? When—”
“Kensie,” she interrupted, “slow down, would you?” If she didn’t interject, Kensie would go right on talking, having a conversation all on her own and deciding on facts that suited her.
“Sorry. It’s just I reckon you’ve had a ripper time and I’m so happy for you. I’m assuming the frangers came in handy?”
Oh my god! Oh no, no, no, no. The condoms. Hugh had seen the condoms. She wanted to bury her head under the covers and never come out. Did he think she’d meant to use them last night with her blind date? Her armpits grew wet, her skin heated. Despite the fact she was alone, embarrassment like being on stage and forgetting what to say gripped her.
“Tess, you still there?”
Kensie’s voice shook her back to the conversation. “I’m still here, Kens. Listen, I don’t have a lot of time to talk. I actually called to tell you I’ve started my next assignment so I’ll be gone for the next few days. If Christian asks, let him know, would you?”
“Not so fast girlie. How was the date?”
Dammit. She wasn’t getting off the hook. “It was great.”
“Oh, I’m so glad. I knew the two of you would get along. I want all the details when you get home.”
“How much does Francesca owe you?” Tess knew they’d wagered on her date. She’d overheard them talking while getting ready. Kensie was the romantic and Francesca the cynic.
Kensie laughed. “Fifty bucks. You don’t mind if I tell her what a good time you had, do you?”
“Not at all. In fact, tell her it was one of the best nights of my life.” Because it was.
“Aww. Good luck with the new job. Keep us posted.”
“I will.” She reached for the clothes at the end of the bed. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
The soft jeans fit like a glove and the trendy T-shirt was as comfortable as her favorites tucked in her drawer at home. She owed Blanche a thank you. Hugh too. Depending on her mood when she saw him. And depending on breakfast. She thought she smelled bacon. Bacon definitely warranted a thank you.
With the blue dress hanging in the closet, the bed made, the shoes from hell in the wastebasket sitting in the corner, she ventured a turn of the door handle. She knew it would open since she’d never heard it click when Hugh left. He probably wasn’t worried about her slipping out during waking hours because he could hear every move she made.
What worried her was that she had no intention of sneaking off.
