Various States of Undress (24 page)

When she finished, she let out a long sigh, opening her eyes.

Regina stared at her. “We’re having a gallery showing of those photos.”

“What?” Carolina’s eyes bugged out. “No! I haven’t even told you about the nature photos I took last week. Those are the best.”

Regina rolled her eyes. “Nature photos? Boring.”

“
You
take nature photos. Your best photos are of the mountains.”

“Yours aren’t.” Regina got up and shuffled toward the door.

Carolina did the same. “Hey! You haven’t even seen my photos.”

“I don’t have to.” Regina opened the door. “Evans!”

There was a clattering sound from downstairs and then Courtney rushed up the stairs. “Ma’am?”

“How long would it take to arrange security for an appearance?”

Courtney frowned. “Like what kind of appearance?”

Carolina raised her chin and stared at Regina, who stared back, and then softened.

“It would be good for you to focus on photography,” Regina whispered.

For a moment, Carolina let her gaze dart around. It would be good to take her mind off Jake, but she couldn’t do that if the photos of him were constantly in front of her. “I would love to,” she said, “if it’s about nature photos.”

Regina didn’t miss a beat.

“Our Carolina is going to be showing some photos she’s taken of the mountains. At my gallery.” At Courtney’s worried look, Regina raised a gnarled finger. “A small showing—more of a gallery talk, really . . . with some of my regular crowd. It wouldn’t be open to the public.”

Courtney’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh, that’s not a big deal. I—or Charlie—just need to go check out the space. And I’ll need your guest list as soon as possible.”

“One request.” Carolina gave Courtney a pained smile. “Could you keep the security activity around Regina’s gallery to a minimum? I would rather not advertise the event to the media.”

“I’ll do my best.” Courtney grinned.

“Wonderful.” Regina beamed, and stood back. “Would you like to come in? I saw you examining some plants earlier and assumed that you want a closer look.”

After Regina turned and walked back into the room, Courtney cut her eyes to Carolina.

Carolina leaned in close. “It’s not marijuana,” she whispered.

“Oh.” Courtney looked almost disappointed, and Carolina bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“Were you hoping it was?” Carolina asked.

“Oh, hell no. If it was, I’d have to call the cops and that would
not
go down well. She’d eat me alive.”

“Wise thinking, Agent Evans,” Regina called.

Courtney shook her head. “She does scare me. Don’t tell anyone.”

“Who am I going to tell?” Carolina smiled and walked back into the steamy room.

“Just in case you’re wondering,” Regina said, “This is Texas Star Hibiscus.” She pointed at the suspicious plant.

Carolina laughed. “Jake should have known that. He spent four years in Texas, although I guess most of it was on a baseball diamond. He—”

She stopped herself and glanced back at Courtney who was looking around the room as if she hadn’t heard, but Carolina bet she had. Great.

“Oh, give him a break, sweetie. This plant hasn’t flowered yet. It does look like wacky weed, doesn’t it?” Regina clapped her hands. “I love it. Don’t you love it?”

The image of Jake’s miraculous grin washed through Carolina’s mind.

I love him.

Chapter Fifteen

J
AKE STIRRED CREAMER
into his steaming mug and glanced, yet again, toward the large windows at the front of the coffee shop. There was no reason to be so alert, but he couldn’t help it. Being aware of every little detail around him was hardwired into his brain.

Trying to act casual like a normal customer would, he picked up a copy of the Jackson Hole newspaper and settled at an empty table right next to the window. The street outside—West Broadway—was lined with parked cars. Pedestrians came and went from shops across the street, and Jake watched them as he sipped the coffee. None of them were Carolina, but then again, he hadn’t expected any of them to be. She was at the cabin hanging out with Courtney and Charming Charlie. Probably watching movies, or making lunch, or lying on the bed staring at the ceiling and cursing his very existence.

He voted for the latter.

Suffering through the weekend without her had been tough, but yesterday, as he’d observed all the people in Jackson going hurriedly about their Monday morning business, he’d felt even more out of sorts, like a statue—immobile, trapped, stone cold in a sea of warm bodies.

He didn’t know a soul, and they didn’t know him. Didn’t know that his emotions were raw, his nerve endings exposed. They had no clue that some moments he still wanted to throttle the daughter of the president of the United States for messing with his life, and other moments he wanted to kiss her all over for trying to help him make sense of his future.

Because of her, he could clearly see now that he needed to quit the Secret Service. More importantly, he wanted to. While he was at the cabin, he’d refused to entertain thoughts of coaching baseball, but the seed had been planted and now that he had the time to let his mind wander, he’d thought about it, whether he wanted to or not. He could do it. He’d be good at it—and hell, he’d be happy, wouldn’t he?

No. Not without her. And if he quit and went on without her, she’d never forgive him. Not that she was going to forgive him at all anyway.

With a silent sigh, he picked up the newspaper and flipped through it, not really caring which page he landed on. Settling on the real estate section, he perused the vacation properties as if he could actually afford one. Movement near his elbow made him look up and he smiled at the barista, who was very young with blue-streaked hair and a wicked-looking lip ring.

She smiled back, nearly stumbling into the table behind her. She righted herself giggling, and gave him a small wave. “I didn’t get a chance to make your coffee since I was on break but I wanted to say hi.” She paused, “Um. You’re back again.”

“Yeah. Same as yesterday.” He let the paper slide to the table, resigned to another chat with the girl.

“And the day before,” she added.

“Yeah.”

“Do you, um . . . live here now?”

He looked around. “Do you mean that ironically?”

He had been spending a lot of time in this place, but it was warm, it smelled good, and what else was he going to do? Besides leave, that is. He still hadn’t been able to bring himself to leave the area. He needed to work on that, because as far as vacation spots went, Jackson, Wyoming wasn’t exactly inexpensive.

“Ironically?” The girl chewed a black-polished thumbnail. “No, I meant for real. Did you just move to Jackson?”

“No. I’m on vacation.”

“Oh.” She looked disappointed, but then brightened. “You need any advice on stuff to do?”

Yeah, he did. He needed someone to tell him how to get out of bed in his hotel room before noon. He needed advice on how to make his mind stop churning. He needed to stop thinking of Carolina twenty-four hours a day.

He picked up his coffee and took a sip before answering. “I’m fine, thanks. But it was nice of you to offer.” Raising the mug, he saluted her.

She giggled again and then looked back toward the coffee bar. “Oh, crap. I’m busted. My boss hates it when I come out on the floor. Gotta go.”

“See ya.” He gave her another smile, one that he hoped wasn’t encouraging, and went back to the paper. He took another sip of his coffee and shook his head. Half a million dollars for a tiny two-bedroom ranch house?
Damn.
And he’d thought the Fulton property was fairly modest, considering that it belonged to the president of the United States.

He looked at another property, which was five hundred square feet more. It was $789,000.

“God, that’s insane,” he muttered to himself. Then—“location, location, location.”

Another shadow fell across his back, and Jake closed his eyes briefly. This time he didn’t turn around. “I don’t need a refill yet, thanks.”

“Like I would actually fetch you coffee.”

Jake jerked around in his chair to find Courtney standing there. She wore business clothes and a giant grin.

“Hey,” he said weakly.

She plunked down in a chair at the table opposite him and crossed her legs. “Hey, yourself.”

He smoothed the newspaper and nodded at her. “I bet you’re wondering what I’m doing here.”

“I was going to ask that, but it took me all of five seconds—from the time I spotted you in the window until I walked through the door—to figure it out. You don’t want to leave.”

Jake glared at her. “Well this is a vacation town, isn’t it?”

“You hate the cold. You don’t ski. You don’t snowboard, and last time I checked, even though you spent time in Texas, cowboy stuff doesn’t interest you in the least, Baxter.”

He shrugged and stared at her. As he did, the realization dawned on him that if Courtney wasn’t at the cabin, Carolina might not be, either. Slowly, he broke eye contact and gazed out the window to scan for Charlie and Carolina.

“She’s not with me, Jake.”

“Who?”

Courtney’s chair scraped on the floor as she dragged it closer. “Oh give me a fucking break, man—it’s so obvious what’s going on. I’m insulted you think you can fool me.”

Jake gritted his teeth, but continued to stare out the window. “We spent every day together. It would have been rude not to get to know her.”

“Yeah, well, you did a lot more than that, I bet.” Courtney slid the newspaper toward herself. “Oh, holy shit. You’re looking at
real estate
here? Man, you’ve got it bad.”

“Shut up, Evans,” Jake retorted.

He turned around and glared at her. “What do you think I am—some kind of stalker? Of course I’m not actually looking at houses. I’m just reading the damned paper.”

She held up her hands. “Whatever. Look, I don’t know what you’re doing later this week, but Carolina is showing some of her photos at Regina’s gallery.”

Jake let the news sink in and as it did, hope began to rise in his heart. He tamped it down. “Why are you telling me?”

“Because I think you ought to go.”

“Why? You trying to get me fired?” He gave her a brittle smile.

“Yeah. That’s my mission in life, to get one of my best buddies shit-canned from the job.” She shoved the paper back onto the table. “I care about you, moron. And from observing our pretty princess as she put on a brave face the past few days, I’m completely sure that she cares, too.”

Jake rubbed his jaw. This was insane. He should just stay the hell away from Carolina, because if he saw her, he knew exactly what would happen. If he saw her, he’d take her into his arms and never let go. Damn the consequences for both of them.

And that was the problem. He could live with his own consequences, but hers? Hers were far-ranging. The news would spread like wildfire and eventually, probably pretty quickly, she would regret it.

“Look what happened with Roger,” he muttered to himself. “She ran.”

“Thank God you’re not Roger.” Courtney sighed. “So are you coming to the gallery on Saturday or what?”

He wanted to. He ached to see her again. But he had to fight his own desire, because she needed a man who knew what he wanted out of life. Who had more to offer than just . . . what? Undying devotion?

“Make up your mind, Jake. I’ve gotta get back to the gallery. It’s now or never.”

A wave of panic surged through him. “How would I even get into the event? Nobody knows I’m here and there’s probably a guest list.”

“Well . . .
nobody
. . .”—she pointed to herself—“is willing to ask Regina to put you on the list. Get there by seven p.m.”

He nodded. “Thanks for the information. But if I don’t show, don’t worry.”

“If you don’t show, you’re a bigger ass than Roger.”

With that parting shot, Courtney got up, walked out the door and jaywalked across the street. Turning around on the opposite side, she gave him an almost imperceptible wave and then opened the door to a place called “Hang Ups”.

In the window were blown-up photographs, very similar to ones he’d seen hanging in the living room area at Regina’s house. In fact—one of them was identical.

Jake put his head in his hands.

He’d been staring across that street for three days, and he hadn’t put two and two together. Well, if that didn’t prove that he
wasn’t
a weirdo stalker, then nothing did.

He was a normal man, perfectly normal. Except for the fact that he was desperately in love with Carolina Fulton, who just happened to have a father who was the leader of the free world.

With a self-deprecating chuckle, he picked up his mostly cold coffee and drained it. There were only two ways out of the hell he’d created for himself: go to the gallery on Saturday night and declare his love, or get out of town and go back to DC.

He got up, put a tip on the table and grabbed his coat. Two second later, the barista was skittering across the dining room.

“Leaving?”

He thought about a moment. “I don’t know.”

Then he walked toward the door, turning to wave at her.

She looked as confused as he felt.

“A
RE YOU SURE
you’ve thought this through?” Carolina asked as she emerged from the pantry with a box of microwave popcorn. “Because I’m not so sure about it.”

Regina looked up from Carolina’s laptop, which sat on the kitchen counter. “Extra-butter-flavored popcorn? What’s to decide? Bring it on.”

Carolina pressed her lips together and willed her voice to be patient. After all, she and Regina weren’t alone. Charlie was sitting on the sofa, studiously going over reports, and Courtney was within earshot, just upstairs. So instead of screaming at her beloved mentor, Carolina gave her a sunny smile.

“You know I’m talking about the gallery, Regina.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yes.” Carolina slid a fingernail under a cardboard edge and eased the box open. “What qualifies me to give a lecture on photography?” She held up a finger. “No—that was too vague. You’ll wiggle out of answering the question.”