Reading His Mind (12 page)

“Deal.”

Jace and I moved out of the way so everyone else could take their turns before we all set off for the hotel.

“I’ll call you when we get home from Paris,” Mel promised when I stood to leave. I’d waited until Jace had excused himself to use the restroom. I had a theory about taking the coward’s way out being the only pain-free way to travel.

“I hope so.” I might have lost touch with her, but I longed to be close the way sisters should be, to share our secrets, to have chats at odd hours, to care if she was upset or hurting, and to have her care about me.

“Are you staying with Jace again?” Her question spoke more than her fair share of curiosity.

I shook my head. “I’d better get to my own place, but thank you for letting me be a part of all of this. I’m so happy for you guys.”

“Jace is a good guy.” She hugged me again. “He never looked at me the way he does you,” she whispered.

I chuckled, a heavy ache in my chest when I thought of how wrong she was. “Looking at me is the same as looking at you.”

“I always wished that was true.” She kissed my cheek and let me go. “Stay in touch this time, Lyr. I miss you.”

I nodded then strolled out of the restaurant, hoping a valet could get me a cab with tip-worthy expedience.

“Hey, Lyric,” Jace called, running to catch up. “Where’re you going?”

“I have to get home.” Lying grew increasingly difficult.

“Without saying good-bye?” He pulled me close. “There’s no way I am letting you get away with that again.” He kissed me until I could barely stand on my own, until the cab driver waiting for me honked impatiently, until my breath came in short, violent puffs. When he’d almost literally kissed my pants off, he turned without another word and walked back inside the hotel.

“Whew.” It took the entire ride across town for my body to return to normal. If kissing was an Olympic sport, Jace Laugherty would be a gold medalist.

I walked into my apartment expecting to see all of my trashed belongings still lying here and there. Instead, the living room had been stripped to the hardwood. The TV had been removed from the wall, the space the sofa had occupied sat empty, and the general litter was gone. George and Wyatt were at my kitchen table, playing poker with naked lady cards.

Guilt crushed my chest. I looked at my best friend. “I’m sorry. I should have been here to help you.”

He held up his hands. “It wasn’t me. Bachelor number two here sent a crew this morning.”

“You did this?”

“Gin,” Wyatt called then pushed his chair back to stand. Taking both of my hands in his, he leaned his forehead against mine. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you coming home to that mess twice.”

“He sent all your shoes off to be repaired, too.”

My brain attempted to process the information, but Wyatt kept going. “I read up on the case today. You’re right. Michael needs some help.”

“You’ve been a busy boy.” I squirmed as he tugged at my waist, drawing my hips closer.

“Idle hands are the devil’s playground.”

I slanted him a look out of the corner of my eyes.

“Well, I just figured I’d better not give the devil any more to work with than I already have.”

I arched a brow. “So, this is your attempt at reformation?”

He laughed. “Nope. I’m trying not to make it worse.”

I pulled away and strolled to the fridge. His nearness felt wrong to me, maybe because of Jace, but I suspected it was more the bad vibe he shot off like Fourth of July fireworks.
Dear God
. He’d even stocked my fridge. I pointed to the food. “You again?” He shrugged. “You’ve been sitting here playing cards, waiting for me to get home?”

“I figured you would get tired of the pretty boy quicker than you did.”

I shot George the help-me wide eyes.

“He means bachelor number one.”

I resisted the urge to hurl a shoe at him. “Yeah. I got that. How did you know I was with Jace?” The Laugherty clan hadn’t come until after he’d left. Was he stalking me?

“I was down in the bar when the blond Addams Family arrived. I saw you leave with him.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t changed a bit—jumping to conclusions when a rational explanation existed. “Well, thank you for everything you’ve done.” I turned to George. “Do you think we’re safe here?”

“Probably.” He pointed to a box on the wall by the door. Two small lights flashed green. Multiple buttons backlit by white light stuck out with back numbers on the front. Words scrolled across a small screen.
Danger. Alarm not set
. What spaceship had they stolen this thing from? “We have an alarm system now.” He stood, grabbed my wrist and hauled me into my bedroom. “You have a new bed, my love. No bad memories in this one, yet.” He lowered his voice. “Wanna crawl in and make some?” His eyebrows played hide-and-seek under the hair hanging over his forehead.

I gave his shoulder a light little punch then broke free to run my fingertips along the plush, overstuffed comforter. The curtains, blanket, and forty or so throw pillows, in coordinating shades of pink and mint green, featured every design from flowered to polka dotted to striped in colors that matched the comforter and the freshly painted room. “He did this, too?”

George nodded.

A new lamp glowed soft-white light on the table. A bookshelf in the corner was stocked with new books. “I’m in holy-crap mode.”

“Why?”

“This is a lot for a guy to do for a girl he doesn’t have a chance with.”

“Oh, you wound me.” Wyatt stood in the doorway. “I did this because we were friends once, and I still care about you. Not because I expect payment. Of course, if you wanted to reward me for my kind, selfless deeds, I could roll with that.”

“Roll with that, huh?” I couldn’t hide a grimace. Images of us thrashing—not in the good way—around my bed flashed through his mind. His excitement palpitated the room. “Tomorrow night? We could go out to dinner, maybe some dancing, then you can bring me here for a night cap, and we can enjoy all this new stuff.”

George’s skin turned white. He gave a whole-body shake behind Wyatt’s back. I trusted his opinion and, apparently, playing cards with Wyatt hadn’t done much to raise his view of my new colleague.

“Um, I was going to see my sister off for her honeymoon tomorrow.” The lie rolled off my tongue with relative ease. “Can I let you know?”

A dark look crossed his face but quickly gave into a smile. “Sure. No pressure. I was just kidding about rewarding my kindness.”

I bit the corner of my lip, and we all stared at one another in awkward silence until, after a moment, Wyatt moved closer to me.

“I’m going to leave you in Georgie’s capable hands.” He looked over his shoulder at George, who leaned against my brand-new dressing table. “Let’s make sure you keep ’em to yourself, pal.” He formed his thumb and forefinger into a pistol and “shot” George then leaned down to look into my eyes. He took my face in his palms, bending in for a kiss. I kept my lips firmly closed and my fists at my sides.

This bozo had cheated on me. If he thought buying me new furniture had earned him a free pass into the bed he’d purchased, he’d reached delusional on a whole new level. He pulled away, stalked to the door, then turned to me once more, winking before letting himself out.

My friend was propped against the wall, having come out to witness the big good-bye.

“Is it weird that he got me all this stuff?”

“No. It’s weird that he knew you were with bachelor number one last night
then
he bought you all this stuff.” He pulled me down into a chair. “You know, I left right after you did last night, and I hung out in the bar for a bit. I didn’t see Freak Show down there.” He frowned. “I could have missed him, I suppose, but there weren’t many people.”

I considered his words.

“But why would he lie about it?”

“Because he’s a pathological liar.” The simple answer also remained the true one.

“No love fest for bachelor number two. Interesting.” He tapped his fingertip against his chin.

“What’s interesting about that?”

“I think he is trying to woo you.”

Woo me? When did we step back into 1950s land?
“He cheated on me with about ten different girls when we dated in college. He was the one who made the big deal out of being exclusive.” I shook my head. “No way. Leopards don’t change their spots, and he’s the king of the sleaziest leopards.”

“What about the other one?”

“Jace is, and I suspect, always will be, in love with my sister.” I sighed, hating every single syllable of the words I had just spoken.

George frowned in sympathy. “Shall we go for brunch in the morning?”

I nodded. “That’s the best offer I have had all day.”

He threw an arm around my shoulder, walking us through the empty living room to our respective bedrooms. “You, my love, have got to get out more.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Or maybe you should stay in more, but less alone.”

“Good night, George.”

“Sweet dreams, love.”

It was well into the night when my first text appeared.

Wyatt:
Had a warm, fuzzy dream about you
.

Groaning, I put the phone onto the table. A moment later, the cell beeped again.

Wyatt:
Hope you are dreaming of me, too.

I rolled my eyes.
Seriously?

Wyatt:
Hello? Are you sleeping?

I resisted the urge to go Big Ben on his ass and tell him that at two in the morning I didn’t answer or appreciate calls. For me, social hour ended right around bedtime. Before I had the chance to rethink it, he went back at it.

Wyatt:
Are you in bed with someone else?

Wyatt:
Answer me!

It wasn’t ten seconds later the phone rang. “For the love of God, Wyatt. Go to bed and leave me alone.”

“Okay. Now we have both called the other by someone else’s name. Can we be even?”

“Jace?” I threw my arm over my eyes, holding the phone to my ear with my shoulder. “Do you not own a clock?”

“I do, but it’s on a wall in Atlanta.” He chuckled. “Wake up. This is the city that never sleeps.”

“That’s New York, silly. This is sin city.”

“I could go for another round of sinning with you.”

“
Hmph
.”

“So, why is Wyatt calling you at 2:00 a.m.?”

“Because none of the men in my life require sleep and all are huge pains in my ass.” Out of schoolgirl guilt, I added, “Well, he is anyway.” Thinking about it, he always had been. As if cued by my words, my phone beeped, signaling a new text had arrived. I ignored it. “Why aren’t you in bed asleep like a good little athlete?”

“I’m on vacation until February.” His voice dropped to curl-my-toes-into-the-mattress sexy. “Come out and play with me.”

“I’m not coming out to play.” Loud music pulsed in the background, and someone asked Jace if he needed a drink. “Where’re you at?”

“The Rockhouse. Dylan was bored at the hotel. Come on. We’ll pick you up in a half hour.”

I considered it. I hadn’t done anything fun in Vegas in a long time. Besides, since Wyatt had decided to begin a full-on campaign to freak me out, I could use a distraction. My phone beeped again. “Okay. You don’t have to pick me up. I’ll get ready then call and find out where we can meet.”

“No way. We’re picking you up, so you can’t back out on me.”

“Sounds kind of needy, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t. Now, get dressed. You have twenty-eight minutes.” He hung up. Further argument would have, at best, been half-hearted.

I hopped out of bed to check my wardrobe. Only two club-appropriate dresses salvaged from the piles of destroyed clothes—a little black skin-tight number with spaghetti straps and a lace overlay or a turquoise second-skin strapless with jewels from the neckline to the hip on the left side.
Decisions. Decisions
. Yanking the turquoise off its hanger, I shimmied in while simultaneously turning on my straightener. I applied makeup with one hand while taming my curls with the other. I finished one minute before he arrived. Black shoes were my only choice because they were all I had been able to salvage. I hopped out to the living room to answer the door while slipping them on.

For my reward, I received the full-on Jace affect then a shrill squeal, causing us all to cover our ears. They stepped inside. I wanted to kick the alien buttoned alarm, but settled for punching in the magic code that produced silence. I watched George’s door, waiting for him to come out. He didn’t.

“Note to self, cut wires to alarm box.” I looked over my shoulder at Jace whose eyes lingered longer than socially acceptable on my legs.

Dylan laughed at his brother. “I guess I was wrong, little girl. You
do
know how to dress to get a guy’s motor running.”

I winked at him. “Thanks, Dylan.”

I pulled a jacket off the coat rack and followed him out the door. Stirring into action, Jace stomped behind me down the stairs. Random thoughts assaulted my mind as we strolled through the crowded interior, the majority female vote being two very fine males accompanied me through the bar. I expected a stampede to push me out of the way to get to them.

I stopped to chat with my friend Katie, a cocktail waitress. “What time are you off?”

“Ten minutes.” She picked up three empty glasses, setting them on her tray. “Jeez. It doesn’t seem fair. You have two, and I can’t get one.” She nodded toward the Laugherty men pushing their way through to the exit.

Inspired, I said, “Come with us. I’ll lend you one.”

“No. I couldn’t.”

“They don’t really belong to me to lend out, but come along. It’ll be fun.”

She wavered, having had a pretty rough night by the looks of things, but longing for a night on the town.

“We can go dancing,” I urged. “I happen to know the taller one is an amazing dancer.” Not that she was getting that one.

“You think they’ll mind?”

I laughed. The Laugherty boys loved the attention of females. Katie, with her silicone top half combined with her long-legged bottom half, belonged in the knockout girl category. It wouldn’t be a hard sell—if I had to sell it at all—to explain her presence. “Come on, Katie. I’ll help you clean up a little then we’ll go.”