Pass Interference (7 page)

Then she was gone and he was left with more questions than answers about what had just happened. Why did she hide herself? What was so awful that she’d turned herself into a caricature of a woman with too much money and too few morals? More importantly, why did he care? That was the question that wouldn’t leave him in peace.

“Those are some deep thoughts.” Leo’s voice broke into his unexpected reverie.

“Oh. Sorry. Just running over some things in my mind.”

“Some things?” Leo asked. “Or some
one
?”

“Enough.” Rafe cut him off. “Is that all you can talk about?”

“Well, we could discuss the uptick the team has taken since the name change.” Leo dipped a piece of the Italian bread and stuffed it into his mouth.

“According to what I’ve heard,” Rafe said, “it seems people are split evenly between a good and bad decision. But you can’t argue with the fact the team’s been winning.”

“They have,” Leo agreed. “Best streak since Tate Manning got hurt and had to retire.”

“Boy, that was a damn tragedy.” Rafe shook his head. “It nearly destroyed his life.”

“But it didn’t. Amazing what the love of a good woman can do.” Leo grinned. “Maybe that’s what you need, Rafe. Then you wouldn’t be such a sourpuss.”

“Sourpuss?” Rafe lifted his eyebrows. “I consider myself serious, not sour.”

Leo shrugged. “Whatever. I can only tell you since Jeannie and I got married my life has improved a thousand percent.”

“Yeah, well, we can’t all be that lucky with a woman.” Rafe should know. He seemed to have made a series of bad choices. Lately he’d just decided to avoid women completely. As he’d rediscovered in his shower, his right hand did the job and didn’t give him any problems.

But it doesn’t replace a living, breathing woman.

Shut up
, he told the voice in his brain. He was doing just fine.

Thank God Leo spent the rest of the meal discussing the team and the upcoming schedule. They chatted about some of the players who needed some extra work, those who might be aging out of the game, what the future held for the Hawks. Neither man wanted dessert, so they paid their checks and made their way down the open staircase and out of the restaurant.

Just at the doorway, Rafe stopped. A tiny chill had raced down his spine, the kind of feeling you get when someone is watching you or danger is near. But what kind of danger would there be in a restaurant? He looked around, scanning the diners, but nothing seemed to catch his eye. He just had the feeling—

He’d been watching too much television. Either that or he still carried the vestiges of his confrontation last night with Dewey. But Dewey wouldn’t be having lunch at Al Dente. And this was just plain stupid. Idiotic.

He made his way out the door and into the crowd moving along the Riverwalk. Maybe he’d been braced for trouble at the stadium for too long, belligerent drunks and angry fans. Maybe he just needed a little time out of the office.

Maybe he just needed to get laid.

At that, he snorted and blended into the crowd moving along the walkway.

* * * *

Malevolent eyes followed Rafe as he headed out of the restaurant.

Asshole! Jackass! Bastard!

He wanted to spit on him, then pulverize him into the ground. The thought of the man with Tyler made him sick to his stomach. If he hadn’t been keeping an eye on her, he would never have been aware of what happened the previous night. It was enough to enrage him.

Who the fuck did the rich princess think she was, anyway? Damn good thing she hadn’t invited Rafe into her house when he brought her home. Watching that kiss had been bad enough. It should have been
his
mouth on hers.
His
hands touching her body. He would have made damn sure he got inside her place. And then got inside her.

Thinking about it now he had to stop himself from licking his lips. He was in a public place, for fuck’s sake. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, steadying himself. If he didn’t stop having these thoughts about her, he’d have an erection that nothing he wore could hide.

He’d called her that morning, just wanting to hear her voice. Maybe, he’d thought, this time he’d say something. Let her know who was making these calls. How special she was to him. But the moment he’d heard her voice, he’d just shut up like a clam. Maybe this wasn’t the time to let her know how he felt. Bring it out in the open. So he’d just listened to her angry voice until she hung up.

Taking a moment, he slipped into the men’s room, saw that it was empty and pulled his cell out of his pocket. He punched speed dial for the familiar number and listened while it rang. This was dangerous. He never called her when he knew she was with someone else. But seeing her and Ortiz in the same place after last night had his blood boiling. He needed to start letting her know who was boss.

He waited, watching for anyone else to enter, but the phone just rang and rang. He realized with a start it didn’t even go to voice mail. What the hell? He hung up and dialed again. Same result. He gave the instrument a hard look. What the fuck was going on? He nearly threw the phone against the wall in his anger but caught himself just in time. Instead he gripped it in his hand, clenching it tightly, and forcing a calm he was far from feeling. He could not afford to let anyone see him like this. Too many questions to answer.

Shit!

Work was calling. But as soon as he was free he’d send her a message that she better not fuck with him again. Even if he never said a word, she’d damn well better take his calls.

Finally settled enough to be around others, he exited the restroom. Maybe he could cut out of work early today. Find out where Tyler was.

And send her a new message.

* * * *

Tyler parked in her driveway, thinking in the back of her mind that she might go out later so the car would be right there in the driveway waiting for her. She let herself into her town house, juggling her mail and three shopping bags, and headed directly for the kitchen. After stashing the food, she took a half bottle of Riesling from the fridge. She grabbed a wine glass and poured a healthy drink for herself. Two swallows and her nerves began to settle. She took the bottle and the glass with her out to her patio, settled in her lounge chair, and filled her glass again. The sun had not yet begun to set but its late day rays bathed everything with a warm glow, soothing her jangled nerves.

For some reason this morning’s phone call had unsettled her more than the others. She had basically ignored them in the beginning, thinking they were a wrong number. However, when they persisted, she’d begun to get irritated. It hadn’t yet occurred to her to be nervous about them. Now she wondered if she should, if there was something sinister about them.

Dramatic much?

Again the thought popped into her head that some guy in one of the many bars she hung out in might have clipped her number when she left her phone sitting out. Lately after a few drinks, she found herself getting careless about things like that. That was not good. Not good at all. She realized she was falling into a dangerous pattern but wasn’t sure how to change it. And here she was ready to head out again tonight and do the same thing.

Stay home
, a little voice in her head told her.
Don’t go out tonight. Stay away from those places and the men you find there.
At least she wasn’t falling into bed so easily any more. Too many unpleasant experiences had effectively killed that urge a very long time ago. Now it was more show than go. Still, she couldn’t remember the last time she actually felt the stirrings of real desire.

Then she thought about Rafe and all her girl parts suddenly woke up and began doing a happy dance. What was it about that damn man, anyway? Surely she still didn’t have a hangover from her stupid teenage crush, right? She started to take another sip of wine, then stopped as something occurred to her.

She wondered what Rafe Ortiz would think if he knew her dirty little secret—that every time she brought herself to climax it was his face that flashed in her brain.

Suddenly remembering last night’s kiss, Tyler pressed the tips of her fingers to her lips, as if she could still feel the imprint of Rafe’s mouth there. She inhaled, imagining the drift of his clean male essence in the air. And his touch, his hands on her arms, his cock so thick and swollen pressed against the heat of her pussy. The thin dress had been practically no barrier at all. She smiled with satisfaction, knowing she had aroused him, obviously unwillingly. Good! She’d like to arouse him a little more. She’d like to—

Enough. In or out tonight? She thought about it for a long moment, finally deciding to ditch the cruddy-bar circuit for the night. When she finished the wine, the sun had dipped even lower and she headed inside. Movie and jammies, she decided. And a pizza. Just what she needed.

A long hot shower worked out the kinks. She scrubbed every bit of makeup from her face, wrapped a towel around her wet hair, and creamed every inch of her skin that was visible. After belting a terry robe at her waist, she picked up her phone to order the pizza and suddenly remembered she had left her car in the driveway. She hated to leave it out there all night. Not that she had to worry about more than the weather damaging the custom paint job. Her neighborhood was safe and all that, even if the rare communications from her father included messages to move to a gated community.

Whatever he asked, she always did the opposite. Grudgingly, she admitted to herself that was getting old, too.

Everything was getting old. But it wasn’t too late to clean up her act.

Sighing, she stuck her feet into slippers, grabbed her keys from the counter, and automatically put her cell phone in her pocket. On the way to the driveway, she disarmed the security panel so she could get back in easily. The outdoor sconces that she flipped on shone enough light on the driveway for her to see—

She stopped. Stared. Stared even more, frozen in place.

Her tires were slashed. All four, she discovered as she circled the car in a daze. Not just slashed, but destroyed, with deep cuts all around. She might just as well have put a sign on the car that said, “Destroy me.” She must have been totally oblivious not to hear anyone. And it was dark enough now that someone could sneak up to her place, crouch down, and get the job done before anyone took notice.

She leaned against the car, suddenly weak and shaky. This person, whoever it was, had been right here in her driveway. Could have walked around to where she sat on the patio. Broken in while she was in the shower. Done God knows what to her. For a moment, she could hardly breathe. Couldn’t move. This was more than silent telephone calls.

Don’t call the police. You don’t need that kind of publicity.

Besides, she could hear her father’s voice in her head telling her that was the smart thing to do, so of course she would do just the opposite.

So no police. She didn’t need blue lights flashing, photographers capturing every action, the neighbors all standing around whispering about her. No, there was only one person she could call, much as she hated to. Two calls in two days? She could just imagine what he’d be thinking.

When she could make herself move, she unlocked the car and crawled into the driver’s seat. She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and, swallowing any misgivings, she punched in the number, praying she’d get an answer.

Please let him answer.

“Ortiz.”

Oh, thank God
.

“Rafe?” She took a deep breath, let it out. “Hi. It’s Tyler.” On the off chance that he’d frozen her out of his brain or knew a lot of women with the same name, she added, “Gillette.”

There was a long moment of silence. “What now, Tyler? What’s going on? Did you get yourself into another mess again?”

Well, of course he’d think that. Why shouldn’t he?

“I—Can you come to my house? I have a little problem.”

She could almost feel him come to attention over the connection. “Is he there? That guy?”

“No, no, no.” Oh, God. “He doesn’t even know who I am or where I live.”

“So you say.” Another pause. Then he repeated, “What’s going on?”

“I—Someone slashed my tires. In my driveway.”

“Slashed your tires?”

She could tell he was trying not to sound irritated. In a minute, he’d probably tell her to just call a garage and leave him alone. Or wait until the morning and get hold of the dealer. After all, she really wasn’t his responsibility. Something pinched inside her when she realized she really had no one who was her go-to person. She’d done a good job of alienating everyone who might fit the bill. She was sure Rafe was only doing this because he worked for her father, because she knew he had little to no use for her. Then he sighed, a sound so audible it carried over the connection.

“Where are you now?” he demanded.

“Inside my car, still outside.” And afraid to get out.

“Go in the house and lock the door. I’ll be right there. Did you call the cops?”

“No.” She shook her head, even though he couldn’t see her. “No cops. I mean it, Rafe.”

Another long moment of silence stretched across the connection. “All right. Go inside. I’m on my way.”

“Thank you.” She said it in a small voice. She wasn’t sure he heard because he disconnected the call.

Looking carefully all around her, she eased out of the car and let herself into the house. He was coming. He might be furious with her but at least he was coming.

As she stood in the hall, her phone chimed with an incoming text message. She prayed it would be Betsy or one of the few people she’d given the new number to. Fingers shaking, she opened the text.

“Hope you weren’t planning 2 drive anywhere tonight. I can get 2 u anywhere.”

She slammed the phone down and pulled in a deep breath, hoping she wasn’t going to throw up.

Rafe parked at the curb and sighed as he shut off the engine. So much for rescheduling last night’s poker game. He climbed out of his car and walked slowly into the driveway. Tyler had left the outside lights on so the damage to her tires was plainly visible. He walked around the vehicle slowly, then took out his camera and did another circuit, snapping pictures of it. She was lucky the damage wasn’t worse. Tires could be replaced. Whoever it was could have keyed her expensive car with the high-gloss finish. Or done something to her engine. Jimmied the brake line if he’d had the time and no one saw him.