The Sweetheart Racket (15 page)

“What will you sing tonight, young lady?” the emcee said.

“ ‘I Will Always Love You' by Whitney Houston.”

Summer whimpered.

Jess groaned. “Dear lord, by all that is holy, no.” She removed a small tin and popped it open. Reaching inside, she handed Summer and Rick each a pair of gummy orange earplugs.

“Come on. She can't be that bad,” Rick piped in. He'd heard her sing in the car and she wasn't very good, but she wasn't earplug horrible either.

Shaking her head, Jess clicked her tongue. He dropped the plugs on the table. “I'll take my chances.”

Summer pushed earplugs into her ears. “Your funeral.”

The music swelled. Taryn sang. What started out okay swelled into a karaoke nightmare of epic proportions when she summoned up everything in her and hit high notes that dolphins off the coast of Maine could hear. Dogs howled, babies cried, and glasses shattered. Rick dove for the plugs, but it was too late. He'd already suffered irreversible damage.

“I will always love youuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!!” Taryn wailed. Several people leapt to their feet and ran for the exit. When the off-key crescendo faded away, and Taryn took her bow, Rick suspected that the frenzied clapping as she left the stage was because the horror was over and not because they thought her the next Taylor Swift.

“That was so much fun!” Taryn said breathlessly, as she hurried back and dropped onto her seat. Her dress skirt fluttered around her in a poof of pastel flowers. All her tension and annoyance with him was gone. She was happy and relaxed when she reached for her drink. “How was I?”

“Whitney had nothing on you,” Rick said. What else could he say that wouldn't hurt her feelings? Anything more would cause a heavenly lightning strike on his head for lying. “I've never seen such an enthusiastic performance.”

“It was great!” Summer exclaimed.

“Your best rendition yet!” Jess said and clapped.

Rick was sure the three of them were doomed to a heaven-sent electrical jolt to the head the minute they stepped outside. But Taryn's eyes softened and she sent her friends a sweet smile.

“Thanks.” Taryn sipped her drink and peered at him over the rim. After a few more acts came and went, Summer and Jess headed off to speak to someone they recognized—or to discreetly ditch the earplugs. Probably both.

They promised to meet Taryn outside.

Trying not to look at the way her dress rode up to mid-thigh revealing creamy skin, Rick could see how much Taryn loved her friends and they loved her. To sit through karaoke at its worst proved their love and loyalty.

“Ready?” he said.

She finished her drink and nodded. He pulled out her chair for her. A curl led his eyes to the back of her neck as she stood. Despite causing him an inner ear bleed, she was still damn sexy. He wanted to kiss the soft skin on her shoulder, her neck, and her breasts. Hell, he wanted to kiss her all over.

Yep, he was toast. His promise to behave until the case was concluded had its limits when it came to Taryn. Loving his mother and being a loyal son meant closing the case. Anything outside of that was his business.

When they got outside, she paused on the sidewalk. “Did you really like my singing?”

What he said at this moment would either make or break any future chance of getting her into bed. He struggled inwardly for a beat before shaking his head. “No.”

Instead of taking insult, she laughed. “I know I'm bad, but I love to sing. I won't apologize for that.”

“You shouldn't.” If singing made her happy, he was all for it. This was yet another thing to admire about the pretty PI: her fearlessness.

“If anyone complains, I'll have Jess pass out earplugs,” she said, her laughter deepening. When his brow went up, she shrugged. “What? You think I don't know? How else could they sit through karaoke with me and not go mad?”

T
aryn enjoyed his deep rich laughter. She liked the way his eyes crinkled at the corners. She liked the way his shirt fit his excellent body. And she loved the way he kissed.

All those were good reasons to avoid any sort of serious physical contact with him. Each time a momentary bout of weakness hit and she thought a “no commitments” romance with Rick wasn't a terrible idea, Tim's texts brought all the hurt from her divorce back to the present. Rick was the kind of guy who'd never want anything more than sex and she wasn't certain that she could keep her emotions in check with him.

It wasn't that she didn't like sex. She and Dave the race car driver had had a fun, no-strings time together for a few days. But there was never any threat of loving him. Rick, on the other hand, already had the ability to make her heart race just by showing up.

If she didn't fight to keep her heart protected, he could be next in line to break it.

Glancing at her watch to disconnect from staring longingly into his eyes, she pulled herself together. “It's only nine-thirty?” There, neutral topic. Add work: “I'm thinking I might do some recon on another case that Irving put me on. A friend of his thinks her exboyfriend stole her dog. I want to go by and see what I can find out.”

“Dognapping?” He grinned. “That sounds like a high-end case. What's next, kitty espionage?”

“Ha. Ha. For your information, we take a lot of unusual cases. They don't all involve cheating spouses or felonious con men.” She could see that he wasn't going to let this one go. “People love their pets. If this guy has Karen's dog, she wants her back.”

A heartbeat passed. Then he said, “I guess you're right. I'd be ticked off if someone hijacked my pooch. Can I come with you?”

“I'll have to go home and get my car.”

“We can take my bike.”

How she wanted to say no. But it was the first time he'd asked, instead of told her what to do, and she thought he should be rewarded. Besides, what could a few minutes pressed against him on the back of his vintage Triumph hurt?

“Fine.” She looked down at the dress. “I need to change first. I have a bag in the back of Summer's car.”

They walked over to join Jess and Summer at Summer's convertible. Taryn and Jess teasingly called the car the Cotton Candy Mobile because of its light blue color. But it fit her personality and the three had spent many a day in it cruising the highways and byways of Michigan searching for mischief.

Taryn filled them in on the plan. “Rick can take me home later.” She noticed the glance that passed between her two friends. They were all too knowing for comfort.

“Move on,” she warned. Both grinned.

“I'll get the second round of dates set up for tomorrow night at someplace new,” Summer said and unlocked the car. “We'll catch him. I know we will.”

“I hope so,” Taryn said. Climbing into the back of the car, she slumped in the white seat and watched Rick walk to his Triumph to give her privacy. It was criminal how good he looked in jeans.

Summer and Jess were both watching him, too.

“I think I just had an orgasm,” Summer said.

Jess sighed. “I know I did.”

Taryn made a face. Lusting after him was one thing. Having her friends do so in front of her was another.

Summer turned on the car and cranked up the air conditioning. “That is one hot man. I wanted to run my foot up his leg under the table for the last three hours.”

“Too bad he's already taken,” Jess said. They both turned around in their seats.

Obviously, they weren't finished with the subject of her and Rick. Maybe she should cut them off and make Alvin her new BFF. She sensed he'd be less likely to probe into her personal life than her other so-called friends.

Taryn want to tell them to mind their own business but knew that no matter what denials she came up with, it wouldn't keep them from believing she and Rick were headed for a passionate love affair. Instead, she unzipped her duffel and dragged out a pair of jeans and a slightly wrinkled blue t-shirt.

“Do you mind?” She scowled. They turned back around.

The halter bra was not meant for t-shirts but it worked okay. Taryn slipped out of the dress and into her dark jeans and tee. She put her sandals on the floor, laid the dress out on the backseat, and reclaimed the duffel. She kept a camera, her gun, and a few other emergency items inside it in the event a last-minute case came up. The dognapping situation was not an official case, even if she led Rick to believe so.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” she said and got out before they could talk smack or try to slip her a condom. With those two, anything was possible.

Summer drove off as she joined Rick.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Ready.” She gave the bike a look over and felt a tingle of apprehension /excitement. The bike was vintage; blue, black, and silver; and very Rick. She frowned while imagining how many other women may have ridden on it with him. “It's been years since I've been on a bike. And that one was actually a moped.”

Rick chuckled and opened a pack that was lashed to the back of the seat with bungee cords. “Mopeds don't count.” He pulled out a blue helmet and handed it over. Metallic sparkles embedded in blue shimmered in the streetlamp's light.

“This looks new,” she said. His expression confirmed her suspicion. “Obviously, you planned for a passenger.”

His smile lit the dim light. “Obviously.”

Ah, so much weight in that one word. He knew he'd get her on his bike someday. The helmet was for her.

That was kind of sweet.

She handed over the duffel and put on the helmet. Rick tucked the duffel into the pack while she adjusted to the feel and weight of the helmet and tried to hook the straps together.

He stepped in front of her. “Here, let me.”

Tipping up her face, he reached under her chin. “If you don't get this right, it won't stay on properly.”

“Are you the highway safety monitor?” His fingers brushed the skin on her neck. She gulped.

“I am, so do what I say.” The smile stayed as he threaded the straps, adjusted the helmet, and finished the job. Leaning back, he examined the fit. “Good. You look like a biker babe.”

He unbuttoned his shirt and shucked it off. Beneath was a black AC/DC concert shirt. Figured.

“How many concerts have you gone to?” she asked.

“A lot.” His eyes glittered. “I could go about two months without wearing the same shirt twice.”

She shook her head. “And you call me crazy.”

“You are crazy.”

“And yet you're obsessed with heavy metal t-shirts.” They locked eyes. She whipped out her phone. “Fine. Let's call a tie. But I still think you're crazier.”

His snort answered that.

A mapping app gave them directions to Karen's ex's house. It was roughly ten minutes away. Darkness would offer cover as Taryn poked around looking for the dog. Despite Rick picking on her about this case, she liked taking breaks from cheating spouses and other more serious cases.

“Why doesn't Karen just go over and demand the dog back?” Rick asked. He pulled his t-shirt over his gun.

“Because she knows that he gets off on face-to-face angry confrontations. This way, she doesn't have to see his ugly mug or smell his bad breath. Her words.”

“Then let's go get that dog.”

When Rick lifted his arms to put on his own helmet, his tee slipped up and his jeans were just low enough to give her a glimpse of part of a muscled six-pack. Her hands twitched to follow his waistband with her hands along the strip where white and tanned skin intersected just below his navel.

Her mouth went dry and her mind went back to what Jess and Summer joked about in the car, about having spontaneous orgasms just from looking at him. She was already halfway there.

Rick swung a leg over the Triumph. He positioned himself on the seat before turning back to her. “Put your foot on the foot peg there and climb on. There is another peg on the other side for your right foot. Hold on to me and you won't fall off.”

She did as told and climbed behind him. There was room between him and the back, but not much. Her hips were cradled against his tight butt as she held onto his waist. “Good?” She nodded. He turned away and fired up the bike. The engine rumbled beneath her and kind of turned her on. Rick drove slowly through the parking lot and down a slight incline to the street. “You okay?”

“Yes!”

“Then hold on!” he said, and they took off.

Taryn's breath caught. She scrambled to get her hands tighter around his waist, sure she was about to be ejected from the bike. Nervous energy and something primitive and exciting mixed inside her, as the man and bike roared through the dimly lit streets of Ann Arbor. It didn't take long to understand the free feeling that came from being out on the open road with the wind surrounding your body.

Beneath her hands, she felt the play of his muscles as he adjusted to each turn, and her heart beat a little faster.

* * *

Taryn looked damn beautiful in the helmet and jeans. Too beautiful. First that red dress, the girly sundress, and now this. She was locked against him like they were one person, her breasts pressed to his back. He tried to refocus on something other than what their closeness was doing to him as she tightened her grip on him and snuggled even closer. How, he couldn't figure out.

He wanted to find a quiet place to peel her jeans off and show her all the things they could do naked, but refrained, not out of a sense of duty, but because of something deeper. He knew that if he got involved with her other than professionally it would make going back to L.A. nearly impossible. And he didn't want to hurt her when he walked away.

Besides, his mom deserved his focus and her justice. He'd already gotten sidetracked from the case by kissing Taryn. If he got her naked, he'd likely never get out of bed.

Once they got intel on the dog, he'd drive her home, drop her off, and get the hell out of there, before temptation got the worst of him.

Taryn pointed right and he slowed for the corner. He followed her directions until they found themselves on a quiet suburban street. The houses were a mix of brick ranches, all tweaked a bit to not be exactly alike. The ex's house was fifth in the row and looked as if some genius had decided to whitewash the brick and had done a shitty job. The peeling paint and a rusted-out Cutlass up on blocks lent a shabby look to the place. He suspected that the neighbors, with their kept-up yards and neatly tended houses, saw this guy's house as the neighborhood eyesore.

Steering to the curb a few houses down, he parked in front of a row of yews and removed his helmet. She did the same.

As she peeled off his back, he felt the loss. Rather than do something stupid, like kiss her, he climbed off the bike and took her helmet.

“So what's the plan, brash girl?” He wanted Taryn annoyed in order to make resisting her mouth easier.

“A butt-kicking if you call me that again.” She swung her leg over and got off the bike. She adjusted her clothing and looked around. It was getting pretty dark. The streetlamps worked but were probably energy efficient, therefore not putting out a lot of light. “Why don't we walk past the house and look for nosy neighbors who might call 911 on us. From the looks of Caleb's house, I wouldn't be surprised if a block watch wasn't formed, just to keep tabs on him.”

“Good point.” Rick pocketed the bike key, dug out her camera bag, and handed it over. “Lead on.”

Taryn headed for the sidewalk. “Sweet'ums is a show dog and Karen is worried that she isn't being cared for properly. We need to get the dog back ASAP before Caleb harms her.”

“Sweet'ums? Are you kidding?”

“I wish I was.” She slowed past the house. Lights were on in the living room. A shadow passed the sheer curtains. “Someone's home. Listen for barking and look for dog poop in the grass. He may have more than one dog.”

Dog poop? “Should I go to the minimart for evidence bags? We can test for doggie DNA to confirm we have the right dog.”

“Funny.” She walked to the far end of the property line. “I wish we knew what the dog looked like. Irving tried to send a photo, but he's computer challenged. All I got from the picture was a gray and black blur of fur.”

A floodlight across the street, like the kind found at a professional sports stadium, clicked on, blinding them. A shout followed. “Is someone out there?”

“Damn!” Taryn said. “Hide!”