Defeat the Darkness (10 page)

Maybe when he returned, he would be more in control. He didn't handle surprises well these days. Short of posting a sign outside his apartment that said Stay the hell away from me! he didn't know what else he could do to make it clear that he needed to be left alone. Some days were better than others, but too many people making too many demands made his skin hurt and shot his control all to hell.

He gunned the engine and peeled out, sending up a spray of gravel. Childish, yes, but too bad. It was a whole lot better than punching somebody.

“Mr. Black, I have need of your services. I assume you'll be available at the usual place and time.”

Joe cringed. He hated that name, but his mysterious jerk of an employer had been adamant that neither of them use their real names. He was paid in cash, all calls were made on prepaid cell phones, and he wasn't allowed to ask any questions other than when and where.

He reminded himself that he needed to earn more money before he could afford to quit, and these extra runs helped a lot. For now, he'd jump through all the hoops necessary to keep that cold, hard cash rolling in.

“Yes, sir, I'll be there.”

“Rent a car this time. We may have a guest on the return trip.”

“I assume you'll want a full-size sedan.”

The phone went dead before he had finished the sentence. He hated it when the man did that. But on the other hand, his employer was hardly the kind of man he'd want to hang out with at the local watering hole. A little civility wouldn't hurt, though.

Thoroughly disgusted with the whole situation, Joe signaled the bartender to bring his check, although he wanted another beer for the road. But the one time he'd picked up his employer with alcohol on his breath, his pay had been docked by a couple of hundred dollars. The next time, he'd been told, he'd be working for nothing.

What did the old coot do down there on the beach anyway? Joe had been tempted to ask more questions just to see what was really going on, but there was a predatory gleam in the older man's gaze that kept him from giving in to curiosity. If he learned too much, the price for that knowledge might be more than just a few measly dollars.

It was time to take one last look around the shop to make sure everything was cleaned up and put away. Tate was about to turn off the lights when she spotted a familiar face peering in through the door. She hurried over to see what had Mabel looking so worried.

“Hi, Mabel. I was just locking up. Did you need something?”

The older woman looked disappointed. “Oh, dear.
I didn't realize what time it was. I guess it's too late to have a cup of tea.”

Tate held the door open and stood back out of the way. “Never for you, Mabel. Come on in and have a seat. I'll be right back with your tea.”

“Won't you join me, Tate? It's been awhile since we've had a chance to visit.”

Mabel sat down in her favorite seat. Tate carried two pots of tea over to the table and set them down.

“Would you like a little something to eat? I have a few scones left.”

“That would be lovely.”

“Where are your sisters?” It was unusual to see one of the aunties out and about alone.

“Napping. Sometimes I think that's all they do.” Mabel broke off a piece of a scone to nibble on. “Most days I join them, but I'm feeling a bit restless today.”

“Is something wrong?”

The older woman sighed heavily and stared out the window. “Today would've been my sixtieth wedding anniversary.”

Tate was torn. Did she offer congratulations or condolences? She settled for, “What was his name?”

“Tommy.” Mabel smiled at the memory, her sadness gone for the moment. “He was a handsome one, Tate. You might not believe it looking at me now, but I was considered a beauty back in the day. I could've had my pick of a dozen men, but one look at those smiling black Irish eyes of his and I was a goner.”

She fumbled for the wallet in her purse, then laid
a well-worn photo on the table for Tate to see. It was hard to see the woman sitting next to her in the pretty young face smiling in the picture, but there was something about the eyes and the way she held her head that looked familiar. Mabel was right. Her Tommy had been a handsome man, and his military uniform only emphasized his athletic build.

“I bet he turned his fair share of heads, Mabel. I like his smile.”

“I did, too.” Mabel traced his face with her fingertip. “He had a laugh that made everyone around him want to join in. But he was deadly serious when it came to serving our country. I suppose it's old-fashioned to describe a man as a warrior, but that's what my Tommy was.”

Tate was getting a bad feeling, but she had to ask. “How long has he been gone?”

“Close to fifty years.”

Tate's heart broke. “What happened?”

There was such pride in the old woman's voice when she answered. “He was career military. They never told me the details, just that he was gone. I have all of his medals back at the house. I should show them to you sometime.” Mabel blinked rapidly several times.

Tate patted Mabel on the shoulder.

“Thank you for sharing about Tommy with me.”

A commotion outside interrupted, drawing the ladies' attention outside. Hunter's truck was pulling up in front of the garage. Tate ignored the surge of relief that washed through her. He'd left in such anger that she'd had to wonder if he'd even be back. Not that she
cared—much. After all, the man had been an absolute jerk earlier when his friend had been leaving. She'd done nothing to deserve his bad temper.

Mabel stared out the window for a few seconds. “Looks like your young man is headed this way. Wonder what's in the box.”

“He's not my young man, Mabel. He's my tenant.”

“Well, I'd better be getting back.” Mabel picked up her cane and stood up. She took a couple of steps, then stopped. “Tate, you know I'm not one to go around giving advice where it's not wanted.”

She paused, waiting for Tate to say something. “I know that, Mabel,” Tate finally responded.

But it was obvious Mabel thought Tate needed some advice now. “Young lady, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't miss my Tommy, and I would've given up my own life to spend even another day with him.”

Her chin came up and she met Tate's gaze head on, her pale blue eyes burning brightly. “It's not easy loving a warrior, but that just means they need it all that much more.”

Then she walked away, leaving Tate sitting there in stunned silence. Who said anything about love?

The timing couldn't have been more perfect. Hunter quickened his pace to catch up with the woman stepping out of the tea shop.

“Miss Mabel, I was hoping you and your sisters could use some fresh blueberries. I bought more than one man can eat.”

“We would love some. That was sweet of you to think of us,” she said with a pleased look.

His laugh sounded rough even to his own ears. “I don't think anyone has ever described me as sweet before.”

“Well, there's sweet and then there's
sweet.
You're the kind where the taste is subtle but lingers for hours.” She smiled, the gleam in her faded eyes more than a touch wicked.

Hunter set the tray of berries down on Tate's front step and took out two pints for the three sisters to share. “Why, Miss Mabel, are you flirting with me?”

Her giggle sounded like a young girl's. “If you have to ask, then I'm not doing a very good job of it, am I?”

“I'm flattered.” He offered her his arm, shifting his cane and the berries to his other hand. “May I walk you home?”

“That would be nice, especially since my sisters are watching from the window. They'll be jealous, you know. It's been a long time since a handsome man came calling on one of us.”

He leaned down and kissed her papery cheek. “Then the men here in Washington must all be fools.”

“You sure can be charming when you want to, Hunter,” she said as they started up the sidewalk to her front door. “You might do better to use it on Tate Justice instead of wasting it on me.”

What could he say to that? The last thing he needed was Tate to think he was flirting with her, especially after the other night.

“She'll have to settle for me trying harder to be polite.”

“You can offer her more than that, young man. She hasn't had an easy time of it, you know. Not with that vulture of a mother always hounding her for money.” Mabel grimaced. “I shouldn't spread gossip, even if it's true.”

“Don't worry, it's already forgotten.” He supported Mabel as she climbed the three steps to her door, then he handed her the berries.

“Thank you again. Think about what I said.”

“Yes, ma'am,” he promised, wishing his fingers were crossed. He wasn't about to tell Mabel that the only thing he wanted to offer Tate was a few hot and sweaty nights between the sheets.

But now it was time to wave the white flag and present his peace offering to Tate. As soon as his temper had cooled, he'd regretted his actions. D.J. was a different matter. Paladins were used to each other's tempers and tended not to hold grudges about it.

After picking up the cardboard carton he'd left at Tate's door, he popped a couple of blueberries into his mouth, savoring their sweetness. It reminded him of what Mabel had said. Jarvis and Jake would howl over someone thinking a Paladin was sweet. It really showed how insulated ordinary people were from the nightmare Paladins faced every day. Men like him were anything but sweet, but that was how it should be. People like Tate and the Auntie Ms deserved to keep their innocence.

The door opened—he'd lingered too long. Tate stood staring at him, her expression unreadable.

“I thought you might like blueberries.” He held out the box, hoping she'd take it and disappear.

Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Why would you care what I like?”

Sometimes it was easier to just bend over and take the licks. “Because I was a jerk. Happy now?”

“Not completely, but I'm getting there.” She stepped outside. “I wasn't trying to crowd you this morning. I know better. You've made sure of that.”

Hadn't he just admitted to being a jerk? What else did she want from him? There was only so much groveling he was willing to do.

“Look, do you want the berries or not? I said I was sorry.”

“No, you said you were a jerk.” She held out her hands. “But thank you. Apology accepted.”

“Okay, then.” But instead of handing her the box, he picked out a ripe berry and held it up to her mouth. He felt the soft brush of her lips against his fingertips from his head to his toes.

“Delicious.” He wasn't talking about the blueberry, and they both knew it.

“Hunter?”

She was staring at his mouth, leaning slightly forward as if waiting for him to kiss her. He needed to get away from her—or a whole lot closer. When she looked at him with those clear blue eyes, what did she see? The man he used to be would've been flirting, seeing how far she would let him go. But he wasn't sure who he was anymore, much less how to approach a woman like Tate.

“Do you want to have dinner with me?” he asked.

He wasn't sure which of them was more surprised by the question. His first thought was to retract the offer,
but he couldn't find the words. Maybe he'd get lucky and she'd refuse.

No such luck.

She took a step back before answering. “Sure, why not? Where do you want to go?”

Now that was a good question. Most of the restaurants he'd tried in town had drive-thrus. “I'll let you pick. I like Greek, Italian, and any place that serves rare steaks.”

She looked shocked. “Oh, I'm sorry, but I'm a strict vegetarian. I only eat at organic restaurants. You know, yogurt, tofu, and fresh veggies. I know the perfect place!”

Tofu! He winced. How did he get out of this now? A drive-thru sounded better by the second. Still, he'd offered.

He tried to look enthusiastic. “Okay. Tofu it is. Can't wait. I'll meet you out here in an hour.”

That's when he noticed Tate struggling to keep a straight face. When she couldn't contain it any longer, her laughter rang out bright and clear.

“Oh, God, Hunter, if you could've seen your face!” She used her free hand to wipe the tears from her eyes. “I'm sorry, that was mean, but I just couldn't resist.”

He gave in and gave her a reluctant smile. “I probably had that coming.”

“Yes, you did. But I'd love a steak dinner. I know a good surf-and-turf place that's not too far or too expensive.”

That stung. “I'm not worried about the prices, Tate. I can afford it.”

She grimaced. “I didn't mean it that way. I meant the food is great, but the decor isn't fancy and people can come casual. You couldn't get me into panty hose this time of year.”

He'd be a lot more interested in getting her out of them, but he doubted she'd want to hear that. “Sounds good. Meet you here in an hour.”

“Okay, then.” She started back inside. Then she called after him, “And thank you for the berries. They're my favorite.”

“What to wear, what to wear?”

Sometimes she wished she had a cat. At least then she'd have someone to talk to besides herself. Tate stared at the three outfits she'd picked out.

She put the jeans back in the drawer. “Too hot, too casual.”

The shorts and matching top went next. “They'd be cool enough, but they're white. With my luck I'd drip something down the front.”

That left the sundress. She held it up in front of her and stared at the mirror. The color played up her tan and made her eyes look bluer. Slip on the white sandals and she'd be set. Besides, she was running out of time if she wanted to shower.

Twenty minutes later, she stood at the window watching Hunter start down the steps from his apartment. Butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach, mostly because she wasn't sure exactly what this was supposed to be. Two friends going Dutch treat? That would be okay
with her, but she suspected he was planning on paying for both of them. A steak dinner was a tad extreme for an apology for his short temper. Besides, that's what the blueberries had been for.