Tease Me (10 page)

Whereas Tucker … He only demanded that she be herself. And there was nothing remotely
wimpy about his spine or anything else. He’d look good in a burlap sack. Or out of
one for that matter. She abruptly shut off that train of thought and turned around.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” she said a bit more briskly than she’d intended.
“The gulf beckons.”

She felt Tucker’s gaze drilling into her back, but she refused to look at him or stop.
If she were smart, she’d start running and never look back.
No
,
if you were smart
,
her inner voice countered,
you’d be in the café right now politely grilling Betty Louise over yogurt chiffon
,
then tracking down that weasel Damian and finding some way to convince him to put
an end to this mess
.

Instead she faced at least an hour at the park with the man she’d sworn to herself,
not once, but several times, that she should stop spending any time with.
Not doing so good on this impulse thing
,
are you
,
Lainey?

“Are you coming,” she called out, irritated with herself and Tucker, “or are you going
to stand there all day staring at my backside?”

He caught up to her easily. “Not that watching your rear end isn’t an entirely worthy
pastime, but I’d prefer your charming company instead.”

She made a harrumphing sound worthy of Irma’s best and strode on. She could see the
sparkle of water in the distance. Almost there. She’d use the walk to plan her strategy,
point out one or two points of interest to Tucker, then bail out and go back to the
café. There, she felt better already. Maybe she had grown. Maybe she could handle
Tucker after all. This was actually a good way to prove how much she’d changed.

He kept up with her accelerated pace while managing to keep his own stride loose and
easy. “Call me old-fashioned, but I sort of imagined a stroll to the park.”

“That’s what we’re doing,” she answered between breaths.

“No, this is definitely not strolling. This is more like stomping. Or striding with
fierce determination.” When she scowled at him and sped up, he reached for her arm
and forced her to slow down. “You know, I think your aunt is right. You have no idea
how to relax.”

Lainey stopped abruptly. Tucker almost dragged her
another two feet before he managed to switch gears and stop too.

“I can relax just fine,” she said, pulling her arm from his grasp. “I simply can’t
relax around you.” She hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud, and his intent
expression told her it was a mistake she was about to pay for dearly.

Eyes bright with heightened awareness, he stepped closer. She made herself stay where
she was. She could resist him and his charm. She would. Had to. In fact, this challenge
would be her personal gauntlet, she decided. Madelaine Cooper was going to prove once
and for all that she could control her impulses and let her head rule her heart. And
her hormones.

“And why do you think that is?” he asked. “What am I doing to make you tense up? We’re
just walking. Or trying to.” He took another step.

Lainey stood straighter and held her ground, feeling like a gunslinger at high noon
who was facing down the last fast gun. “It probably has something to do with the fact
that we met under very unusual circumstances and I am having a hard time adjusting
to … to …” He stepped closer. She swallowed hard. Even gunslingers got ten paces.

“What is there to adjust to, Lainey? You put one foot in front of the other, and before
you know it, you’re walking.”

His too-amused expression rankled. She raised her chin. “This isn’t about walking.
You’ll have to forgive me, but I’m not used to being nearly naked with a man one day—professionally
naked that is,” she added hurriedly, when something that wasn’t close to amusement
sparked
in his blue eyes, “then dealing with him on a social level the next.”

Proud of herself, she mentally blew the smoke from her steaming pistol.

He stepped even closer, angling his body so that he was directly in front of her,
blocking the sun, which cast his face in deep shadows. “Exactly how many days, then,
do you need?” he asked in a slow drawl that would make any fast gun proud. “Between
being naked with me—professionally naked, that is—and being social?”

It was possible, she thought shakily, that she’d reholstered her gun a bit too quickly.
Or perhaps her aim had been off.

“Nearly naked. I was nearly naked,” she corrected, the distinction minor but for some
reason crucial. “And there aren’t enough days to make it okay. I thought we had this
all settled back at Sam’s.”

“ ‘All this’ being?”

“You know.” She waved her hand in a jerky motion in the tiny space between them. “
This
. Us.”

“We’re an ‘us’?”

Humor flickered in his oh-so-charming baby blues, along with what, to anyone else,
probably looked like desire. Hot, deep, not easily quenched desire. But she wasn’t
fooled, no, not her. He didn’t really desire her. It was the game, the chase. He was
toying with her, she told herself. Yes, that was certainly it. And he had to be stopped
before he … before she … Well, he just had to stop, period.

“No, we’re not an ‘us,’ ” she countered. “That’s the whole point here. I’m a client
and you’re a … a …”

“Masseur?”

“A service professional,” she corrected hastily but
firmly, ignoring the instant visuals the mere word
masseur
brought to mind. “And service professionals shouldn’t confuse a client with a potential
date.”

“There is only one thing I’m confused about.”

The space between them was rapidly shrinking, figuratively and literally. Her shots
had gone wide. “What?” she asked, feeling the figurative pistol slip from her grasp.
Oh, how did she get herself into these things?

“Do you plan to book future appointments with me?” he asked.

She saw the trap immediately. Hah, she’d show him. “Yes,” she said on impulse, “in
fact, I do. I—I was just telling Aunt Minerva this morning how wonderful you—That
is to say, how professional you were and how skilled your hands—” She stopped and
drew a short breath. “I’m still technically a client,” she finished, clinging to one
last scrap of pride.

“Then, as your service professional, I recommend a nice stroll to the park. A perfect
way to relax tense muscles.”

She blew out the breath she’d been holding. She’d never had a chance. “Sure. Why not.”
She stepped around him, focused her attention on the water ahead, and determined not
to stop until she was ankle deep in it. Just because she’d lost the showdown did not
mean she’d failed her gauntlet test. She’d gotten him to admit that their relationship
was strictly professional, which was, the way she saw it, a point scored for her.
Feeling better, she smiled.

He caught her arm before she’d gone even a foot. “Stroll, Lainey. Like this.” He slid
his hand along her shoulders as smoothly as if he’d been doing it for years. She fit
against his side just as easily. He reached behind
him with his free hand and tugged at her elbow, which was wedged between them. “And
like this,” he said, sliding her arm around his waist.

“This doesn’t seem very professional to me,” she said, but didn’t quite manage to
pull her arm away.

He slanted a glance at her. “I’m teaching you how to relax. Professional to client.”

She eyed him warily.

“Think of how pleased Minerva will be.”

Oh, she’d be pleased, all right, Lainey thought crossly. Despite her aunt’s outward
approval of Lainey’s decision to abstain from a social life until she’d established
some new boundaries for herself, she knew that, in Minerva’s old-fashioned heart,
her
goal—along with half the citizens of Sunset Shores, it seemed—was to see Lainey happily
married. Of course, even Minerva would have to agree that Tucker Morgan wasn’t suitable
means for achieving either of those goals. Wouldn’t she?

Lainey slanted a quick look at Tucker’s face. His expression was as easy and open
as he was. Friendly. Handsome. Funny. Honest. And, she recalled, her arm tingling
along the smooth sway of his waist, he had a really nice butt. He was solid and warm
and … reassuring. Minerva probably loved him. And the fact that he was a personal
friend and protégé of Lillian’s had probably sealed her fate.

“What was that sigh for?” he asked. “Is this really bothering you?” He stopped and
turned her to face him, holding her shoulders in his big, very capable hands. His
teasing manner was gone. In fact, he looked remarkably sincere. “Okay, no more word
games and subtle evasions. I enjoy your company, Lainey. In fact, I went to the café
in the hopes of seeing you.”

“I thought we—”

“Shh. Let me finish. A professional-client only relationship is not what I want, but
I learned as a child that I don’t always get what I want. I can take it, Lainey.”
He flashed a quick grin. “Okay, so I might pout and whine a little, but all us guys
are little boys at heart. You’ll have to cut me a little slack on that.”

“Little boys at heart.” He’d hit her biggest problem square on the nail head. Teasing
grins. Sheepish explanations. Adorable pouts. Wheedling requests. They never failed
to tug at her heart. Conrad had mastered them all. Which was why it had taken her
so long to figure out how little he truly cared for her. Charlie had been smoother
in his delivery, but she’d still been suckered right in.

And where had it gotten her? In the end, divorced and alone. She didn’t blame the
men in her life. Okay, maybe she blamed Charlie a little. But Conrad hadn’t really
pretended to be something he wasn’t. She had chosen to be with Conrad, thinking the
glimmers of strength she’d seen in him during their courtship could be nurtured, that
because he’d stood up to his family by marrying her, he’d stand by her always. She’d
been wrong. Marrying her had been his one and only act of strength. He’d caved in
immediately afterward and become his mother’s mouth-piece on how
she
should be the one to change.

Tucker wasn’t a spineless Conrad or a manipulating Charlie. No, he was even more dangerous.
He had all the good traits she was attracted to and, as far as she’d seen so far,
none of the bad. He had drive and determination and would do what he had to to get
what he wanted. Right now that seemed to be her. The very idea made her pulse pound,
but that wasn’t where the danger lurked. He was a
temporary man. And even temporary men could break your heart. She wasn’t willing to
repair hers again.

She removed his hands from her shoulders, stifling a small, unexpected sigh over the
fact that she’d never feel them kneading her flesh again, smoothing oil into her skin,
working the tension from her muscles.… You know, she thought, idly rubbing her thumbs
into his palms, she didn’t have to give him up completely. She could still see him
professionally. She could … She blinked her eyes open and dropped his hands as if
they’d burned her.

Taking a step back, she looked at him. “I appreciate your honesty, Tucker, really
I do. And I’m flattered that you’re interested in me. To be honest, I find you interesting
too. But …” She raised a hand to hold off his response. “But I’ve made some unwise
decisions in my relationships with men. Actually, they were downright lousy. I’m not
suggesting you’re a lousy choice, but you yourself said you were only here temporarily.
I’m having a hard enough time figuring out what I want. I do know that I don’t need
even a temporary distraction right now. Professional or personal.” She took a breath,
then realized there was nothing else to say except maybe “I’m sorry.”

Tucker stared at her. There was no denying she was dead serious. He was stunned by
the crushing sense of disappointment he felt at the prospect of never seeing her again.
He had no idea what he’d had in mind as to their future relationship, only that he’d
wanted one. But she was right. More right than even she knew. He
was
only temporary. His whole life was temporary. At least until he decided what his
new life was going to be. It certainly wasn’t being a masseur for Lillian, nor was
investigating
the mystery man of Sunset Shores a lifetime occupation. Hell, he wasn’t even planning
on staying in Florida. This was simply a short vacation gone amok.

Yet the idea of turning around and walking away from Lainey Cooper felt … wrong. Deep-down,
once-in-a-lifetime wrong. But what other choice did he have?

Well, he did have one. It was more in the form of a reprieve than a plan, but he was
a desperate man. “I was behind Minerva’s counter today because I was listening to
her conversation with Betty Louise.”

“Tucker, really, I don’t care anymore why—”

“No,” he said, perhaps more firmly than he’d intended to, judging by her raised eyebrows.
All he knew was that letting Lainey walk away was a mistake he’d regret for the rest
of his life. Deciding to tell her the whole truth wasn’t a solution, but it was, he
hoped, a way to keep her around long enough for him to come up with one. “No, you
have to listen to me.”

“But—”

“Just walk to the park. They have benches there, right? We’ll sit and I’ll explain
everything to you. Then if you want to walk away and never see me again, I’ll do my
best to accommodate you.”

She stared at him as if he’d grown a third eye.

“What?” he asked, resisting the urge to touch his forehead.

She shook her head slightly. “Nothing. It’s just that I’ve never seen you so …”

“Serious?”

“Yes. Exactly.”

“Trust me, I can be as serious as a heart attack.”

“Shh,” she said with a hint of her wry grin. “Those are fighting words in this neck
of the woods.”

Tucker found himself smiling. She delighted him. He wanted to grab her and kiss her,
hold her close and beg her to stay with him while he figured out what he was going
to do with his life. He wanted to talk it over with her, find out what she wanted
in life, see if there was a way they could blend their two plans together.