Operation Blind Date (20 page)

Chapter 34

“T
he psychologist and counselors will help Amber work through it all,” Hayley said, her tone reassuring. “They’re very good at what they do.”

Laney drew in a deep breath, having a little trouble adjusting to the fact that it was indeed all over. She looked out the window of the Foxworth meeting room, noticing with a little shock that the trees were starting to turn. There were spots of the yellow, gold, orange and red that would soon overtake everything but the evergreens for which the state was named. When she’d first been here, when Teague had first brought her here just five days ago, all had been green.

Teague. He was acting so strangely. He’d barely spoken to her since they’d gotten back on dry land, and not at all since they’d been back here. He’d spoken to Amber, telling her repeatedly it was all over and she was safe, but hadn’t given her even a glance.

She was already antsy from having left Amber with strangers, but the staff at the small hospital had insisted Amber needed rest more than anything after both her ordeal and the aftermath of interviews and recounting it all, and they would be keeping her overnight. And the Foxworth counselor had already arrived and had promised she would stay, and call Laney immediately if Amber woke up. Laney was fairly sure that wasn’t standard procedure, to sit with a sleeping patient, but as she’d learned, nothing was really standard with Foxworth. They exceeded expectations in all areas.

And so did their people.

She turned back to Hayley.

That they thought ahead and had such people ready, that Amber was already in very good and gentle hands, just emphasized what Laney already knew. “I have the distinct impression everyone at Foxworth is very good at what they do,” she said.

Hayley smiled. “Yes. Yes they are.”

A soft
woof
drew Laney’s attention.

“Especially this guy,” she crooned, leaning over to scratch that spot behind Cutter’s right ear, glad to hide her face since she was fairly sure she was blushing as thoughts of one of the things Teague was very, very good at rushed through her mind, a flood she seemed helpless to stop anytime she thought of him. Which was about every other minute. She’d finally had to avoid looking at him at all to get her story out to Detective Dunbar.

“He has his own inimitable talents, does Cutter,” Hayley agreed.

Laney continued scratching until the dog sighed in utter bliss.

I know that feeling, boy,
she thought ruefully.

Quinn joined them then, taking the seat next to Hayley. Teague was with him, but hesitated to take the seat he always had before, next to her. Finally he tugged the chair around the corner of the table and sat there instead. Hayley looked at him quizzically, but he avoided her eyes. Odd, Laney thought. But then everything felt odd now. Adrenaline crash, Quinn had explained to her back at the marina. She was liable to be exhausted for a while once it was all over.

“Just hang on a little longer,” he had said, putting an arm around her shoulders and squeezing gently.

Funny, she’d thought, how different it felt coming from Quinn. He was incredibly strong and it was steadying, but had it been Teague it would have been all the comfort she needed to keep going endlessly.

“We think that we have it pieced together now,” Quinn said.

“Good,” Hayley said. “Because I’m missing a few parts.”

“You,” Quinn said, “are missing no parts at all. They’re all there, and arranged beautifully. I’ve inspected them myself.”

The easy, teasing, and blatantly loving exchange made Laney smile even as Hayley blushed.

“Well, now, if you want to talk about working parts,” Hayley said archly.

Quinn laughed. Laney snuck a sideways glance at Teague. He was standing with his back to them, staring out the window, ignoring the conversation as thoroughly as he’d been ignoring her. And she began to get the message he was sending.

Over.

It’s all over.

How many times had he said it as they were waiting on the boat? She’d assumed he meant it to reassure the shattered Amber.

Now she was wondering if he’d meant it just as much for her.

Quinn exchanged a glance with Hayley that told Laney he was curious about the strange attitude as well. “Teague?”

There was a split second’s hesitation before Teague responded, before he turned around and said, “Sir?”

“You want to run through the big picture?”

He gave a half shrug that for some reason struck Laney as if he’d slapped her. Had he really lost all interest so quickly now that it was, as he’d repeatedly said,
all
over? Was it really just a matter of giving a report that seemed to bore him? Nothing more?

His tone did little to convince her otherwise; it was short, clipped, beyond businesslike.

“Dunbar says Brady Osgood has a history. Grabbed a neighbor girl when he was a teenager. Cops couldn’t prove she hadn’t gone voluntarily. Couple of assaults, one rape charge. They suspect he scared the vic into dropping it. It’s always their fault, not his. He bought the plane ticket online, with Amber’s card, to throw off anybody who might look for her. Page turned up back at work this morning. The boat is his now, from his great-uncle. It’s in that shape because he couldn’t afford to fix it. Or register it. All his money went down the roulette drain. He’s deep in debt. Mostly to Osgood. So he let him take the boat. And Amber.”

Laney smothered a gasp at the starkness of it. Teague didn’t even pause.

“Osgood said he took her to teach Page a lesson. That he owned him. Page says that was what woke him up, made him realize how far he’d sunk. It wasn’t a vacation he took. He’s been in rehab. We verified that. Says he had no idea what Osgood was really up to.”

Teague sat down, as if to signify he was done.

“Well,” Quinn said with a wry expression, “been taking succinct lessons from Rafe?”

Teague didn’t laugh, didn’t even smile, earning him a speculative look from Hayley. Laney tried to process it all, had the fleeting thought that this bare-bones report was in a way easier to handle than any drawn out explanation of why Brady Osgood was a twisted, evil man. She didn’t really care. She’d come close to losing Amber to his twisted psyche, and why he was what he was didn’t ameliorate anything in her book. Not yet, anyway. She might want more details later, and Amber might, but for now, that was enough.

Cutter was getting restless, as if he sensed the undercurrent in the room. The dog made a low, whining sound, and went to sit in between the chair Laney was in and the one Teague had pulled around to the end of the table. He looked from one to the other, intently.

Makes you feel for the sheep, doesn’t it?

Teague’s quip had made her chuckle then. Thinking of it only made her feel worse now; the absence of his solid comfort was a palpable thing. He was even better at his job than she’d thought, if he could disengage so completely so quickly.

And that’s all it had been to him, apparently. A job. A job that was now over, as was any other connection between them.

You can’t say he didn’t warn you. He gave you a chance, more than many men would, when he walked away that first time. He’d tried not to take advantage. You’re the one who jumped him the next time. You can’t even be angry at him; he tried to tell you you’d regret it. Because he knew all along this was all it was, some stress-induced aberration.

Her thoughts careened around her brain, and she hated that it was all true. But she hated more that all the reason, logic and truth didn’t stop her from feeling hurt. Hurt so badly it was a physical thing, a stabbing, searing pain that was spreading from some deep place in the pit of her stomach to every part of her.

She should have stayed with Amber. But they’d insisted she’d be sleeping. Still, there were other things she could and should be doing. She’d called Amber’s parents from the hospital, and they were on their way, but she should go pick up some things for her. Clothes, cosmetics, things to make Amber feel normal. She could go to her apartment and pack a bag, or maybe it would be better to get her new things, things that couldn’t be any kind of reminder.

Cutter whined and nudged her arm with his nose. She automatically moved her hand to stroke his head and then ruffle the thick fur at his neck.

Quinn cleared his throat. Teague tapped the side of his thumb on the table, the only sign that he was anything other than just bored, now that it was all over.

Suddenly it was more than Laney could deal with. She stood up abruptly. “Amber will need things,” she said.

“Of course she will,” Hayley said. “I picked up some basics, toiletries and things, but you’ll know better what she likes, especially in clothes. And I’d guess we should take into account that looking attractive may not be quite so appealing to her just now, so maybe something plain?”

“Thank you,” Laney said in a heartfelt tone that matched what she was feeling. “I wouldn’t have thought of that, but you’re right.”

“Jeans, then. And a choice of tops. Feminine and not so,” Hayley said briskly. “Underwear, somewhere in between. Let’s go.”

Hayley stood up. She looked over at Cutter, who had instantly gotten to his feet when Hayley did. “You want to come, or stay with the boys? We’re just going shopping.”

At the word shopping, the dog made a very male-sounding whuff of distaste and sat back down, this time at Teague’s feet.

“Stay with the boys it is,” Hayley said with a laugh at her dog’s cleverness.

Maybe she should get a dog of her own, Laney thought as she gathered up her purse and started toward the door with Hayley. It seemed silly, to be a groomer without an animal herself. He could be the shop mascot or something. Greet customers. He’d have to be very mellow, laid-back, to deal with the overly alpha dog, or the spoiled rotten ones she occasionally had to deal with.

Maybe Cutter could help her pick one out. She smiled at the idea. It made perfect sense to her. The effort that smile took, and the fact that she was aware of it, told her how stiff her expression had become since they’d arrived here and Teague had so sharply withdrawn.

She looked back, and was a little startled to see Teague and Quinn walking away toward the office at the back of the bigger room.

He hadn’t even said goodbye.

They went into the office and closed the door.

And Laney couldn’t stop the feeling that uncurled inside her, the feeling that she would never see him again.

It really was all over.

Chapter 35

“A
gain?”

Teague stared at his boss incredulously.

“Too much to ask of you?” Quinn’s voice was neutral. Too neutral.

“Of course not, but what about Liam, or Rafe?”

“Liam’s running an errand for me and Rafe’s at the shooting range.”

“Funny how they’re always busy,” Teague muttered. “They—”

“I don’t know what’s gotten into that dog,” Hayley said, bustling through, gathering up a folder, her purse and some knitted fingerless gloves from the table. Fall had arrived with a vengeance in the last two weeks, rain, wind and cooler temperatures were gradually taking over. “The minute the rains began, he seemed to start hunting for every possible mud hole to roll in. Not to mention that dead...thing on the beach, and that goopy resin stuff today. He’ll be lucky if Laney doesn’t have to shave him.”

Teague managed not to react to the name. He’d gotten better, gotten to where he could hear her mentioned without wincing. Or at least, not outwardly.

Hayley paused in front of Teague. “Thanks so much for picking him up for me again. All this wedding preparation is driving me crazy.”

“We could still elope,” Quinn said, sounding hopeful.

“Don’t I wish,” Hayley said wryly. “But Charlie has made it quite clear that’s not an option, not for a Foxworth.”

“Charlie,” Quinn said dryly, “is planning on it being a business event.”

“I like to think of it as more a Foxworth family reunion,” Hayley said. “You’ve both built a huge family, the kind you build by choice.”

Quinn looked disarmed, charmed and captivated all at once. Without hesitation he pulled Hayley into his arms and planted a long kiss on her lips. And again Teague marveled at the change in the man who was his boss; he’d been tough, competent and very alone until Hayley and the irrepressible Cutter had literally charged into his life.

And now he was the happiest man Teague knew.

He thought about suggesting they get a room, but the fact that this was Foxworth sort of meant they already had. He was the odd one out, if anything. So he should probably just leave.

Oh, yeah, just hurry why don’t you? That way you can spend more painful, awkward time in the one place you do
not
want to be.

Disgusted with himself, he turned on his heel and walked out.

* * *

“Do you think they’ll work it out?” Hayley asked anxiously, listening as Teague clattered downstairs.

“Are you sure there’s still something to work out?” Quinn countered.

“Of course there is.”

“Look, I realize they got close while we were hunting for Amber, but—”

“They got more than just close, and you know it.” She heard the outside door close, wondered if Teague would have slammed it if the automatic door system hadn’t prevented it. “You saw the way he looked at her. And she him.”

“Yeah, well,” Quinn said, sounding awkward. “But you know things get crazy under stress. Adrenaline does funny things to your thought process.”

“And of course any relationship that starts under stress can’t possibly last,” Hayley said with exaggerated emphasis.

“I never said that,” Quinn answered instantly. “I couldn’t, could I? I live with proof otherwise every day.”

“Good answer,” Hayley said, grinning at him then.

Quinn pulled her into a tight embrace. “So I’m forgiven?”

“Nothing to forgive,” Hayley said, snuggling close.

“I’m just saying I know Teague. I know how he thinks. He’s a good, honorable man. And he’d never want to take advantage of someone’s emotional state.”

“I know that,” Hayley said. “Teague’s the goodest of good guys, with the whitest of hats. But sometimes it’s too much for even a good guy to resist. I mean, the electricity between them practically made Cutter’s fur stand on end.”

“I know a little something about it being too much to resist,” Quinn said, nuzzling her hair. “But I also know Teague would fight it, if he thought it was just the situation, and that Laney hadn’t been thinking straight.”

“I think Laney is quite capable of thinking straight, even through what she went through. And I,” she said, reaching up to touch his cheek, “know a little something about that.”

Quinn’s smile warmed her to the core. His kiss did even more.

“They’re going to have to work it out themselves,” he said after a moment.

“With some help from Cutter.”

“What?”

“Honestly, Quinn. You don’t find it rather pointedly odd that only since this case ended has he been finding ways to get so dirty and rank that a trip to Laney’s is the only solution?”

Quinn blinked.

“The dog who at most needed grooming maybe once every month or two suddenly needs it every couple of days? You think that’s an accident?”

“Wait. You think he’s doing this on purpose?”

“You don’t? This is Cutter we’re talking about.”

Quinn looked thoughtful, then bemused. “Yes. Yes, it is.” His gaze narrowed then. “So, does this mean you really aren’t quite as busy as you’ve made it seem, too busy to go pick Cutter up when Laney’s done with him?”

“Maybe,” Hayley said with a grin that gave her away.

“Well, good,” Quinn said. “Then you can afford some time now.”

“I might be able to squeeze in an extra few minutes,” she said, reading his intent in the sudden smokiness of his eyes.

“What I have in mind is going to take longer than a few minutes,” Quinn said, his voice suddenly deeper, with that undertone that never failed to send a shiver of lovely anticipation through her.

“Oh, I hope so,” she said.

* * *

Teague tapped the steering wheel restlessly as he sat outside Laney’s shop. There was really no good reason not to just do this. Go in, get Cutter and get out. Never mind that the dog made it a hassle every time, resisting leaving until once Teague had even had to pick him up, a process Cutter had protested with a grunt that thanks to his good manners hadn’t quite turned into a growl.

Laney had been pleasant and unemotional every time, after all. Businesslike. That was it. She’d treated him like any other customer, polite, friendly and not an iota more. There wasn’t the slightest trace of the Laney of before, and certainly no trace of the woman he’d fallen for like an axed evergreen.

Because he had. He admitted that now, now that it had somehow fallen apart. He’d known she’d regret sleeping with him, he’d known it was just the circumstances. And now that Amber was safely on the way back to physical health and working on the mental aspects of her ordeal—with Laney’s steadfast help, he was sure—and the crisis had passed, Laney’s life would return to normal. She would get past any lingering guilt, be glad she’d refused to give up her certainty something was wrong, and she would look back on those hours of insanity between them as just that.

And none of that helped him one damned bit. He wanted her just as much now as he had a month ago. And he missed her with an ache that astonished him with its depth and stubbornness.

So here he was, about to torture himself yet again. He could have refused, could have insisted he had an appointment he couldn’t break, but he hadn’t. He didn’t know what bugged him most, that Rafe and Liam always seemed to manage to be elsewhere and not available for doggie chauffeur duty, or Cutter suddenly managing to become the dirtiest dog on record. If he was into conspiracy theories...

Dog,
he said to himself.
He’s a dog. Just a dog.

And laughed ruefully out loud at himself, both for actually thinking Cutter was just a dog, and that he himself was such an idiot.

His inward-directed sarcasm drove him out of the car and actually got him through the shop door. He heard Cutter’s bark from the back room, heard Laney talking to the animal.

“—such a mess. You’re lucky that solvent worked, you rascal. Tree resin may smell interesting, but rubbing your head in it gets you much nastier stuff to smell.” He heard a faint jingle, guessed it was the collar with the boat-shaped tag. “There. All done.”

Teague heard Cutter jump down from the grooming table. A second later he trotted out into the shop. He made a beeline for Teague and sat, looking up at him intently. Then he looked back over his shoulder to where Laney stood in the doorway of the grooming room.

She looked amazing, he thought. She was wearing scrubs, as she had been that first day. No reddened eyes, although she looked rather somber. Enough that he had to fight the urge to ask what was wrong. It wasn’t his problem. Not anymore.

“The smell of the stuff I had to use on him will fade by tomorrow.”

He nodded.

“I trimmed his nails.”

He nodded again.

He couldn’t take just staring at her, so he shifted his gaze to the dog. Who had apparently gone back to staring at him. Maybe that was why he’d had to look down. Just a confused sheep...that was him.

“I’ll bill her.”

“That will be quite a bill,” he said, adding to Cutter, “troublemaker.”

“He’s been...busy,” Laney said.

“Yes.” He didn’t look at her. Couldn’t. “Thanks,” he said, and turned toward the door.

He stopped at the sound Cutter made, a combination woof and whine that sounded like nothing less than utter, human exasperation. The dog trotted to the door, turned and sat.

At least he was ready to go this time, Teague thought. Not sure what that sound was, though.

He walked over, reached for the door handle.

“You’re going to have to move, boy.”

Cutter just looked at him.

“Cutter, come on.”

The dog steadfastly refused to budge. Teague tried to push the door open and step over him, but the dog moved, bumping his leg enough that he had to stop the motion or lose his balance. This process was repeated twice, until Teague realized it was pointless.

Once he’d stopped, Cutter looked up at him again. And then looked at Laney, who was now barely a yard away, watching with some curiosity and more than a little bemusement.

“I’m sorry,” Teague found himself saying. And it was for much more than just a recalcitrant dog.

“He’s the problem,” Laney said. “What are you sorry about?”

Teague let out a long breath. “A lot of things.”

He looked at Cutter, who was looking at him as if he were indeed that sheep who could be stared into submission. And waiting. Waiting for what? Teague knew the dog was very sensitive to human emotions, so maybe it wasn’t that big a leap to sensing unresolved issues.

Issues. God, he hated that pop-psychology word.

He made one last move for the door. Again Cutter blocked him. He thought of picking the dog up again, but it never morphed into the action. This was ridiculous, he thought. If the damned dog wanted the air cleared, then by God he’d clear the air.

He turned to face Laney.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “What happened between us shouldn’t have. It wasn’t fair for me to take advantage when you were so worried.”

Laney’s brows shot upward. “Take advantage? Is that what you call it? As I recall, I’m the one who pushed you.”

“I still should have—”

“Been noble again? Walked away? Left me alone? And wanting you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my entire life?”

He’d been silently saying “Yes” to each question, until she got to the last one. That one nearly put him on his knees with its simple declaration.

“Laney,” he began.

“That night was my decision, my choice, Teague. I know perfectly well if I’d said stop at any time, you would have. Because that’s who you are. The man you are. But give me the same credit, will you? If I’d wanted to stop, I would have. I didn’t.”

He could barely breathe now, the memories, the vivid images were coming at him hot and heavy. He closed his eyes.

“I still don’t,” she said softly.

His eyes snapped open. “Laney.”

“I know you think I wasn’t thinking clearly. That I was so worried about Amber that I turned to you for solace and it went too far.”

That was so close to exactly what he’d thought that it took him aback.

“I gave it time,” she said. “I’ve waited, just in case you were right, and it would fade away now that the crisis with Amber was over. It didn’t.”

“Laney,” he said for the third time, unable to find any other words. Not sure there were any others, not that mattered, anyway.

“You can have all the time you need, Teague. All the time it takes for you to be sure what you feel is real. And if you decide it’s not, well, I’ll just have to live with that. But don’t cut us off without even a chance just because of how we met.”

He stared at her. How often had he thought of coming to her, saying just that? Asking her to give them a chance, to take all the time she needed, but give them a chance.

Cutter woofed, softly, nudged at him.

“I think,” he said slowly, “I’m outgunned.”

A slow smile curved Laney’s mouth. It sent a shiver through him that made him throw caution to the wind. No turning back. And he didn’t care. The world opened up with that smile. It was the kind of smile that made a man willing to charge bayonets.

“Outnumbered, anyway,” she said softly.

“And definitely outclassed,” he said.

She smiled. He was lost.

“You mean it? You’re sure?” he asked.

“I do.”

“I’m new at this. Feeling like this, I mean.”

“Me, too. But I’m still sure.”

“Help me?” he asked.

Her smile turned to something warmer, deeper, as she quoted his answer from that day on the boat back to him.

“Always,” she said.

And then she was in his arms, his lips were on hers, claiming, and she yielded, then staked her own claim with a fierce response that took his breath away.

When he finally had to stop to breathe, he reached behind him without looking and flipped the Open sign around to Closed.

“Settle in, dog,” he said to Cutter. “This is going to take a while.”

For a moment the dog just watched the two humans who had finally found their way. And then he plopped down on the mat inside the door, letting out a sigh of utter canine satisfaction.

Another job well done.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from
A Billionaire’s Redemption
by Cindy Dees.