Jeannie Watt Read online

  The last hour and a half of her shift passed rapidly, thanks to the band and the seemingly insatiable thirst of the crowd she was serving. But, even though she was very busy, her eyes strayed to Matt, Rafe and Hailey over and over again. Another woman that Tara had never seen before had joined the trio and was making a heavy play for Rafe, leaving Matt and Hailey free to do a lot of talking. Matt even laughed at one point, and Tara gritted her teeth. Sure, he laughs with Hailey, but not with her.

  Jealous. She’d never been jealous in her life and she was jealous.

  She hated it, but that didn’t stop her from going straight to the pool table as soon as Becky took over the bar.

  “Hey, about time,” Hailey said with such obvious sincerity that Tara felt bad. “Now we can play guys against gals.”

  “I don’t play,” the woman cozying up to Rafe purred in explanation. Tara disliked her immediately and it had nothing to do with the expensively streaked hair, perfect makeup and manicured nails—or even the low-cut leopard print shirt. It had everything to do with the deadly this-is-my-prey-keep-your-distance look in her eye.

  “Your loss,” Tara said, taking a cue off the wall and sighting down it to make sure it wasn’t the infamous U-cue that had warped when someone left it in the parking lot during a rainstorm. It wasn’t. She chalked her hands, then turned to see that the woman had linked one arm through Rafe’s. Tara looked Rafe straight in the eye, wondering whether he was a willing participant in this woman’s game and, to her surprise, for once in her life, she couldn’t read him like a book. She looked over at Hailey. “Would you like to break?”

  “Yes,” she said through her teeth. “I would.”

  As her partner prepared to shoot, Tara chanced a glance at Matt. He was staring across the room. Tara bit her lip and pulled her eyes away to watch Hailey make an excellent break.

  “Stripes,” Hailey muttered and proceeded to clean the table. “Eight in the side.” The black ball slid into the appropriate pocket.

  “What did you need me for?” Tara asked with an appreciative smile.

  Rafe’s new female friend looked unimpressed, but he was obviously of a different mind. He cast Hailey an odd look before retrieving the triangle and racking the balls. The tension between Rafe and Hailey was obvious and not to the liking of… “Excuse me,” Tara said to Ms. Leopard Print, who was still watching Rafe with a predatory look in her eye. “I’m Tara. And you are…”

  “Cat.”

  Cat. Of course. Tara fought to keep from smiling as she bent over the table to make the break.

  They played another two games, and by that time the crowd on the dance floor had grown to the point that it was impossible to pull a stick back without making contact. After Hailey got bumped on an eight-ball shot and scratched, she put her stick back in the rack with a decisive thump. Then she turned to Matt, who had played all three games in relative silence, and held out a hand. When he frowned at her, she simply tipped her head to the dance floor, and with a shrug he put his hand in hers and followed.

  Tara, feeling mean and more than a little annoyed at Cat’s possessive attitude, turned to Rafe and held out her hand, mimicking Hailey. And to her surprise and Cat’s obvious annoyance, Rafe didn’t hesitate to take up the invitation.

  “Not interested in Cat?” Tara asked over the music, watching the woman shoot daggers at her. Hailey and Matt were dancing several yards away, also in her line of sight. Hailey was smiling up at Matt and he was looking down at her with a tolerant half smile.

  “Not much.”

  “How are you going to shake her?” Tara asked curiously.

  “I think I’m going to get an emergency call pretty soon.”

  “Who is she?”

  “Someone’s cousin, in town for a visit,” he answered absently and Tara noticed that he was also watching Matt and Hailey. Tara had a hunch it wasn’t for the same reason she was watching them.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have given her the ticket,” Tara said, referring to Hailey.

  “Didn’t have much choice.”

  “How’s that?”

  Rafe looked down at her. “She ticked me off.”

  “Really.”

  “Really. And it’s not the first time.”

  “You know each other?”

  “Oh yeah.” In answer to Tara’s perplexed expression, Rafe spun her in a quick circle. “Hailey moved here after we graduated and you’d left town. She was thirteen, I think. Anyway, by the time she was sixteen, I was a rookie deputy and she was flat-out trouble.”

  Tara smiled, incredulous. “You really know each other.”

  “Yeah.”

  “She doesn’t seem like trouble now.”

  Rafe gave her a look that said he thought otherwise, but his words belied it. “She’s changed. Grown up. The hard way, of course. I don’t think she’s ever done anything any other way.”

  “You gave her a big ticket.”

  “Yeah. Kind of let my temper get the best of me. If she goes before the judge, she’ll get it knocked down.”

  The music ended and Tara was surprised to find Matt and Hailey next to them.

  “Going back to the Sheena, queen of the jungle?” Hailey asked Rafe in a sweet voice. His face hardened and Tara was intrigued by how quickly the girl could push his buttons. “Because if you’re not,” Hailey added, “I think we should dance.”

  And then she took his hand and led him away, leaving Tara and Matt staring after them.

  They turned toward each other just as the music started and, after the briefest hesitation, Matt opened his arms. There wasn’t much else he could do, short of walking off the dance floor and leaving her there. She knew Matt didn’t do things like that.

  Tara stepped into his light embrace, planning on a polite duty dance with a lot of air between the two of them, planning on showing him just how unaffected she could be, and was almost immediately bashed by a large man with a larger wife. Matt turned, putting himself in harm’s way and pulling her more closely as he did. Tara surrendered without a fight.

  Duty dance or not, his body felt good. More than good. It felt wonderful, dangerous. And he smelled good, too. Warm and masculine. She slid her hands up around the back of his neck and felt an immediate response in the part of his body that was pressed against her lower abdomen. Interesting. Definitely not insulting. Whatever problem he had with her, it wasn’t lack of attraction.

  “Dangerous place, this dance floor,” he murmured.

  “Mmm.” She was feeling danger all right.

  “I thought maybe we should stay close in case Rafe needs to be rescued. Hailey appeared to have murder in her eye.”

  “You know the look?” Tara asked. That was not why they were dancing.

  “I’ve seen it a time or two,” he replied in a low voice, his breath feathering the wisps of hair near her temple. Tara’s pulse quivered and she caught her lip between her teeth, glad he couldn’t see her face.

  “How often?”

  “Often enough to recognize it. Rafe has trouble on his hands.”

  As do I.

  “Matt…”

  Another human projectile bashed into them, nearly knocking Tara out of Matt’s embrace.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Come on.” Matt eased them off the dance floor, dropping his hold on her hand as soon as he led her around the pool tables to a relatively clear area near Edgar the Owl. “Rafe is going to have to take care of himself.”

  “He’s capable.”

  “Let’s hope.” Matt smiled. “I’m heading home. Want me to walk you to your car?”

  Tara considered and then nodded. An olive branch. She’d accept it. The rest she would work out later.

  SOMEONE WAS CREEPING around in his yard. Matt had just watched Tara drive away and started down the alley when he saw the dark form moving stealthily past his opened windows and on around the corner of his house. He quietly moved closer, keeping to the shadows until he was at a vantage poi
nt.

  He paused, waiting for his eyes to adjust, and listened. Then he heard it. A soft, “Kitty, kitty, kitty.”

  Matt let out the breath he’d been holding. Someone had lost a cat. He stayed in the shadows, though, wanting to make certain. “Can I help you?”

  He heard a distressed squeal in response to his call and then a tentative, “Hello, Officer Connors.”

  His neighbor. The lady who took such joy watching him come and go, occasionally waving at him through her windows, unaware or uncaring that some people might find her behavior disconcerting. They certainly would in Reno.

  Matt let himself in the back gate.

  “I can’t find Steve.”

  “Steve’s a cat?” Matt deduced.

  “Why, yes. He lives under your porch.”

  Oh, that Steve. The Steve he’d been hoping would go away. Apparently now he had.

  “Is he your cat Ms….?”

  “Mason. Iris Mason.” She gave Matt a patient smile. “Cats don’t have owners.”

  “Of course,” Matt replied with equal patience, but he found himself smiling back.

  “I had tuna casserole tonight and I wanted to bring him the leftovers, but he seems to have gone missing.”

  Steve’s weight problem now made sense.

  “Well, you know, it is early summer….”

  The lady frowned and, after a few seconds, her face cleared and she smiled. “Oh,” she murmured knowingly, “tomcatting around.”

  “That would be my guess.” Although, Matt had a feeling old Steve wasn’t going to lumber too far away to do his romancing. Must be some good-looking kitty nearby. He looked down at the neat plastic container in the woman’s hands, brimming with tuna and noodles. “I could keep it for him and feed him when he shows back up.”

  “Oh, that would be lovely.”

  Matt took the container, but the lady stayed planted in front of him, studying him. “Will you be with us much longer, Officer Connors?”

  Matt shook his head. “Just a few more days.”

  “Too bad. This has got to be so much nicer than living in Reno. And the criminal element…although we do have our share of trouble.”

  “Do we?”

  “Oh, yes. Those meth labs you know. Springing up in all the farming areas. I haven’t heard of one right in our community, but it could happen.”

  “I hope not.”

  “Me, too. This is a nice community. It just grows on you…but, I’m certain you have already figured that out.” She smiled again. “I really should be getting back. One of my favorite movies is on in a few minutes.”

  “And what might that be?”

  “Psycho.”

  Matt somehow kept his expression from changing. “Have a good evening, Ms. Mason,” he called as the woman let herself through his rear gate. She gave him a wave and disappeared into her own yard.

  The lady was right, Matt thought as he opened the door and set Steve’s casserole on the table. Night Sky, Nevada, had grown on him.

  At first he’d missed the constant activity of a bigger city, the noise, the energy, the mix of anonymity and individualism. And then, slowly, almost without notice, new experiences had begun to replaced what he missed. People nodding at him for no reason. The mandatory wave all rural drivers exchanged. People trusting one another. People saving perfectly good leftovers for stray cats.

  Luke would be pleased to know Matt was starting to appreciate the place, but staying in this town was not an option, no matter how much he liked it. Even if a deputy job did open up and he did manage to land it, and even if it would please Luke to no end to have someone around to talk to and take care of. He had a job to do in Reno. He was not going to walk away under a cloud and leave yet another dark Connors legacy in the Reno PD.

  He filled a glass of water from the tap and then leaned back against the counter as he drank it. He glanced at Steve’s casserole.

  Where was that stupid cat? Other cats may go places at night, but this one tended to stay at home waiting for him. He’d at least check the street, make certain the animal hadn’t been injured.

  Matt looked out his front door. No cat. He ambled outside and down the street. He wasn’t going to call the cat. He turned around after two blocks, figuring fat boy wouldn’t make it much farther and started back. That’s when he saw it sitting under the window of a neighbor’s house, and sure enough, there was a classy-looking Siamese staring back at him through the screened window.

  “Good taste, buddy,” Matt muttered. “If you’d lose some weight, you’d be able to jump up on that windowsill and do some real courting.” The cat blinked at him and then turned back to the feline Juliet in the balcony above.

  Man, he was getting soft, Matt thought as he walked back, enjoying the quiet night. Worried about a cat. He had a lot bigger issues to be worrying about than some stupid animal.

  He went in and headed for bed, halfway wishing Tara could be in it with him. She had felt so damned good pressed up against him while they danced….

  The woman did seem to be developing an awesome hold on him and he was still trying to figure out how it had happened. He’d had no intention of going to the bar that night after work. He’d planned on an early evening, but he had been drawn to Tara, had felt the need to make peace with her after his poor behavior. He hadn’t intended to play pool or dance, but he had lingered because of Tara, because he wanted to be near her.

  Stubborn Tara with her invisible scars and protective barriers. Tara, who claimed she’d be happy with a one-night stand. He had a strong feeling that he’d need more than that—if he ever did sleep with Tara—and since he realized and accepted that, he knew it would be best if he simply kept his distance and left on cue. Easier on everyone. No pain. No regrets. He wouldn’t have to watch Tara eventually leave because his life was screwed up and he couldn’t help focusing on the job instead of the relationship.

  His brain had it all figured out. Too bad the rest of him wasn’t listening.

  IT WAS JUST AFTER midnight when Tara climbed to the third floor and flicked on the overhead light. The bathrooms had walls and Matt had replaced some of the old plaster with Sheetrock. It was a good start, but there was still a long way to go before she could paint and Hailey could stencil.

  Tara debated for a moment and then went down to her room and changed into her work clothes. The sooner the seams were finished, the sooner she could paint. The clock was ticking and she wanted the upstairs to be as perfect as it could be for her first and possibly most important customers.

  It wasn’t long until Tara discovered there was a knack to taping seams and feathering joint putty. It was definitely not as easy as it looked in the Time-Life Home Improvement series.

  It was nearly three o’clock when a frustrated and exhausted Tara finally went downstairs, flicking lights off as she went, and she wasn’t all that happy with the results of her efforts. She would try again in the morning.

  The doors were all locked, the shades drawn. She flopped down onto the sofa to take off her shoes and that was the last thing she remembered until a knock on the kitchen door brought her up out of a crushingly heavy slumber.

  She frowned at the second knock and glanced around, disoriented by the light streaming in around the edges of the shades and the fact that she was still fully dressed. By the third knock she sat bolt upright, finally putting the pieces together. She had fallen asleep fully clothed on the sofa and now either Matt or Luke was there, ready to go to work. She pushed the shade aside and glanced outside. Matt. Of course.

  “I don’t have breakfast ready yet,” she said as she pulled the kitchen door open a few seconds later. “But—” she stifled a yawn, avoiding looking at his face, hoping to keep him from looking too closely at her bedraggled appearance “—if you want to get started, I’ll call you when the coffee’s done.”

  “All right.”

  To her relief, Matt refrained from comment and headed through the kitchen to the stairs. Tara waited until he was out o
f sight and then leaned both hands on the counter, letting her head hang. She stayed in that position for several seconds and then drew in a deep, determined breath and pushed herself upright. Three hours of sleep were plenty.

  One, two, three…she began counting scoops into the coffeepot. She could hear Matt’s progression up the old stairs, and then the noise stopped dead.

  A few seconds later he was downstairs again, annoyance etched on his features.

  “I was going to be polite. I wasn’t going to mention the fact that you looked like you slept in your clothes, but—” his lips pressed together into a flat line before he went on “—this is stupid, Tara. Did you sleep at all last night?”

  “Yes,” Tara said in what was supposed to sound indignant, but came out more like a yawn.

  “Look, it’s not my business if you kill yourself, but this is crazy. And besides that, those seams are awful.”

  “Matt,” she said wearily, “I would really appreciate it if you would just go back upstairs and go to work.”

  He cocked his head at an angle, looked at her from under hooded lids. “I will if you go to bed for a while.”

  “No.”

  He muttered an exasperated expletive.

  “I have to get this house done plus I have another stupid committee meeting today. I lost time working for Jack. I was just trying to make up for it.”

  “Hire more help.”

  “I can’t afford more help. You and Luke are it.”

  “Then don’t pay me. Hell, don’t pay Luke, either. Neither of us need it. Use the money to hire a couple more warm bodies—just for a few days.”

  “I don’t work that way.”

  “No, it’s a lot more sensible to work yourself into exhaustion and pay two guys who don’t need the money.”

  Tara bit back a retort. “Can the three of us finish this place in time, even with my committee meetings?”

  Matt hesitated and then said, “Probably.” In Tara’s mind that was a stubborn man’s way of saying yes. “Barring any unforeseen delays,” he added.

  “Fine,” she said. “Then if you wanted to get a start, I’ll call you when the coffee is done.”