Tease Me (6 page)

“That’s right, you’re here to help out Lillian.” Swapping verbal volleys with Tucker
could be as much fun as it was with Sam, providing she didn’t take him too seriously.
Although the adrenaline pumping through her veins at the moment felt entirely different
from the rush she’d gotten over getting a dollar off a pound of orange roughy. “So
what career did you move from that required you to make snap judgments on people’s
characters?”

His grin was all together too disarming. She felt her
wagon pick up speed, and she struggled to keep a firm hold on her seat. Although,
her little voice argued, if he was only there temporarily, what harm could there be
in a little simple flirtation?

Simple? She smothered a self-deprecating chuckle. Hadn’t she just finished deciding
there was nothing simple about flirting or anything else when it came to Tucker Morgan?
Her gaze flitted to the stuffed shark mounted on the far wall. A very visual, not
to mention timely, reminder of why she shouldn’t play with the big fish.

“I guess you could say I was a professional bodyguard,” he answered.

Bodyguard? Oh, but that’s too good, her hormones chimed in. Her mind betrayed her,
too, providing full color Kevin Costner-Whitney Houston flashbacks as her wagon careened
wildly out of control. She crossed her arms over her suddenly exquisitely sensitive
and likely very noticeable nipples.

“Bodyguard?” She made a discreet attempt to clear the rasp from her throat. “You protected
people?” It proved impossible not to look over the body that he’d used to protect
them with. His blue eyes were twinkling when hers found their way back to his face.
There was no way to hide the blush she felt creeping up her neck.

“Yep,” he said. “They paid me and everything.”

“What made you quit? I mean, why did you go from protecting bodies to massaging them?”

It might have been her imagination, but his eyes seemed to lose a bit of their shine,
and his smile suddenly looked more forced than natural.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “That’s none of my business.”

He shrugged, the flicker of hesitation gone. “Hey,
you wanted to know, you asked. You were being direct, right?”

“It’s being direct without being rude that sometimes trips me up.”

“Now we’re back to what’s proper. Perhaps that was why your ex-mother-in-law had so
much trouble passing on the concept.”

“Oh, she had rude down to a science. But she managed to convey it ever-so-properly,
so there were few who would dare to call her on it.”

“I take it you were numbered among that few.”

She gave a short laugh. “That was me. One of the few, the proud, the disowned.”

“You seem to be doing all right without the formidable Maitlands.”

“That’s a matter of opinion,” she said darkly, then grinned. “I, however, happen to
agree with you. I’ll ignore the fact that you don’t know me very well.”

“Which brings us to your earlier question. Or should we say, direct request?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Which was?”

“You asked me why I was here. I’m here because I don’t know you very well and I’d
like to remedy that situation.” He raised his hand to stall her response. “I know
you’re busy, that’s why I came to Sam’s.”

“To get to know me while I buy fish?” She paused as another thought struck her. “And
how did you know I’d be at Sam’s, anyway?”

Good question
,
Tucker
. He could hardly tell her the truth. Not at this point, anyway. Yet their discussion
about the virtues of being direct had him shifting uncomfortably at the idea of telling
her an out-and-out lie. “I mentioned to Lillian that I was going to stop by Minerva’s
for lunch, and in the course of our conversation she mentioned something about you
buying fish at Sam’s today.” Not exactly the truth, but bottom line, Lillian was his
source of information about Sam’s, so he didn’t feel too much like pond scum.

“So you came down here to … what?”

To question you on your relationship with a man who appears to be involved in something
shady with your aunt
. That might be the direct response, but he was pretty certain it would also not get
him the information he needed. And in the spirit of being straightforward, at least
with himself, it wasn’t the only reason he’d followed her down there. He liked plain
old Lainey Cooper. A lot.

“To spend a little free time with a woman who intrigues me. How’s that for direct
and forthright?” He added, “No pressure, Lainey. I mean, we’re at a fish market.”

“But isn’t there some code or something about professional masseurs and their clients?”

“You mean getting to know a client away from work?” He was beginning to wish he’d
never agreed to help Lillian, much less in the role of masseur. It was only his first
day, and already he was getting too tangled up in the deception. Of course, he wouldn’t
have met Lainey—at least not in such an interesting manner.

She nodded.

He had no idea what the code of ethics was. “Were you planning on scheduling regular
appointments with me?”

He tried not to smile as her skin flushed a deep, delightful shade of red. He was
finding himself very drawn to the sexy way she shifted back and forth, at one point
gutsy then the next modest. He never knew how she’d
react, which was half the fun of provoking her. On second thought, he might owe Lillian
a thank-you. He suspected that if he’d met Lainey Cooper through any of the normal,
more acceptable social channels, he wouldn’t have seen these multifaceted elements
of her personality. At least not quickly enough to become so intrigued.

“No, I hadn’t really planned to—” At his feigned hurt expression she hastened to add,
“Not that it wouldn’t be wonderful. I mean, I told you how much I enjoyed it.” If
it was possible, her neck grew even splotchier. She groaned, then looked away. He
thought he heard her mutter something about “understatement” as she turned her back
to him.

He closed the distance between them and laid a hand on her shoulder, making her jump
slightly. She stilled but didn’t turn around.

He hadn’t realized how badly he needed to touch her again. Even a light touch on her
shoulder set off rockets of awareness in him. “Lainey,” he said gently. “I didn’t
mean to embarrass you. If it would make you feel better, I could explain in great
detail exactly how I felt about our morning session.” Or, for that matter, how he
was feeling right now, he added silently.

She whirled around, having to back up a step when she collided with his chest. He
caught a fleeting glimpse of what that brief contact did to the front of her T-shirt
and worked hard at keeping his eyes trained directly on hers.

“No, really, that isn’t necessary.” She took a breath and stepped back, but came up
short against the display case. “What I mean is, even if I don’t ever see you again
professionally, I don’t think it’s … appropriate for me to … for us to …”

“You wouldn’t feel comfortable seeing me because of how we met, is that it?”

She sighed in relief. “That’s exactly it.” She laughed self-consciously, but he could
see her relaxing. “I’m glad you understand.”

“Can I ask you one thing?”

Her relaxed expression tightened a bit, but even as it did, he saw her eyes take on
that hint of determination that clued him in to another facet of her character. He
watched in fascination as she straightened her shoulders and her grin grew more confident.
The bold Lainey was back.

“Only if you take about three steps back.” She fanned a hand in front of her chest.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are a bit, well, intense.”

He laughed. “No one has ever mentioned my intensity to me before.”

“Well, I’m sure they thought it. Take it from me, you’ve got it nailed. I imagine
it served you well in your former career. You’re going to be very successful in your
new line of work too. But can I make a suggestion?”

You can make anything you want, he wanted to say. “Shoot.”

“After you leave Lillian’s, you might want to think about getting a position where
the clientele is a bit younger. Not that the older ladies won’t love you, but their
hearts aren’t what they used to be, you know?” She folded her arms, apparently satisfied
that she’d protected both herself and senior women everywhere from his potentially
lethal clutches. “Now what was it you wanted to ask me?”

What are you doing for, oh, say, the next forty or fifty years? was the response that
leaped immediately to his
mind. It jolted him right out of his love-struck, hormone-driven stupor.

Whoa. Slow way down here
,
Morgan
. Changing your life in order to open up your options is one thing, but you don’t
want to go falling in love with the first person under seventy-five you lay your eyes
on.

She smiled at him.

Do you?

No, you don’t, he answered emphatically. He was there to help Lillian solve a mystery,
not find a wife. Hell, he didn’t even know where he was going to live two weeks from
now. He had plenty of whats and wheres to sort out in his life before he started thinking
about the who he might share it with.

He quickly pulled himself together. “Can you get me a good deal on some of those shrimp?”

Her mouth dropped open, but she quickly snapped it shut. “Shrimp?”

Tucker stepped past her and scanned the array of shellfish with the interest of a
man who hadn’t eaten in a month. She turned and looked with him, as if by doing so
she’d figure out what the sudden fascination was.

“I missed lunch,” he explained, not caring how lame he sounded. So he’d lost his mind
there for a few hours, it wasn’t the end of the world. “These look good. I heard you
haggling with Sam and figured you might be able to get him to cut me a deal.”

A loud thump brought both their heads up. White-wrapped packages covered one end of
the counter. Sam stood behind the counter, eyeing them both with unconcealed interest.

“A deal on what?” Sam said, eyes gleaming. He turned to Lainey. “And you stay out
of this.”

Tucker left Sam’s fish market ten minutes later with a very good price on a pound
of medium tiger shrimp. He’d left behind a woman who, despite his better judgment,
fascinated the hell out of him, and a very nosy shopkeeper who he’d bet was popular
in a town full of ladies whose favorite pastime was probably gossip. He sighed. Hell,
Sam would probably have them married with three kids by sundown.

Tucker paused at the curb. He was certain that that thought should bother him more
than it did. He had also left without getting a shred of information about Lillian’s
mystery. And his only contact? The woman he’d just forced himself to walk away from
without a backward glance.

That capped it. He was definitely going to strangle Lillian. An easy job, she’d said.
A couple of weeks, she’d said. It’ll be like a vacation, she’d said. His first day
as a detective, and he was already hopelessly entangled. For a man who’d just simplified
his life, this didn’t bode well.

“At least you got a good deal on lunch,” he muttered as he crossed the street to his
rental car. A raw lunch, he thought as he tossed the bag onto the passenger seat.
Maybe he could get the kitchen at the hotel to steam them for him. Right after his
chat with Aunt Lillian.

Lainey almost tripped over Ida’s cane going through the back door of the café. The
mesh bag of navel oranges wobbled precariously on top of the heavy cardboard box filled
with dry ice and seafood that Sam had packed for
her. She struggled to get through the door, barely making it to the counter.

“Well, it’s about time,” Irma said from her perch on the stool by the swinging doors
that led to the front of the café.

“Now, Irma,” Ida said, her voice pinpointing her whereabouts on the metal chair by
the back door.

With a grunt, Lainey heaved the box onto the counter, then wiped her hair from her
forehead as she turned around to face the twins. “Ladies,” she greeted them. “Mr.
Max,” she added, nodding to the small dog peeking from Irma’s bag in a play for time.
“Why aren’t you up front enjoying your coffee and pie?” As if she didn’t know. She’d
stalled as long as she could, wasting time she didn’t have in the hopes that they’d
have given up by now. She should have known better. Wasn’t dealing with Tucker—twice—enough
of a trial for one day?

She faced their determined expressions. Apparently not.

“Any more pie, and I’ll have to go back to Bunny Macafee’s Senior Stomp aerobics class,”
Irma groused. “Lord, I hate that woman. And someone ought to tell her it’s downright
disgusting to see someone her age strapped into spandex.”

“I believe you did,” Ida offered. “Right before she kicked you out of the class for
insubordination.”

Irma harrumphed. “Should have been a drill sergeant. I’m amazed someone hasn’t dropped
dead in there from a heart attack.”

“Her classes aren’t that strenuous,” Ida said.

“I was talking about saccharine overload.” She turned to Lainey, who was struggling
not to laugh. “Have you
heard the woman? Sounds like the sugarplum fairy on helium.”