Late February
Angelique Baptiste carved a quick path through the crowded dance floor toward the bar area. She kept a close eye on the tall, well-dressed guy, the same one who’d been ogling her for the last hour. He circled the perimeter of the dancers to reach the bar a few seconds before she did.
She brushed her hair back from her face before walking up to a vacant bar stool. Just as she placed her hand on it, the guy in question covered her hand with his own. His hand, large, but well-manicured and soft, looked as though it had never lifted anything heavier than a fork or a pen in its life. He reeked of money.
Her gaze locked onto a pair of brilliant blue eyes, owned by one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen. Angie took a moment to appreciate the physical appearance of the man standing before her. Blond, blue eyed, buff, and looking as though he’d just stepped off of the beach, even though it was the end of winter. She narrowed her eyes, curious as to the source of the tan. Although he was as handsome as any male model she’d ever seen, and built enough to peak her interest, he had the look of someone who spent more time in front of a mirror than she did.
Bummer.
“Excuse me, is this your chair?” she asked.
“It is, but I’m always ready to make a sacrifice for a woman as beautiful as you.”
She smiled at the line she was sure had been used on a multitude of occasions. Smooth as a baby’s bottom. Just like that, she had him pegged. This guy was obviously a player. A smooth talkin’, momma’s boy of a player, used to using daddy’s money to get his own way.
She smiled sweetly, and pulled her hand back from under his. “Keep your chair. I’m not interested.”
She watched him shake his head, as though he was shocked at getting turned down, and waited for his next doomed attempt to pick her up.
“Look, is it a sin to want to dance with the most beautiful woman in the room?”
Angelique stepped back for a head to toe perusal before giving her head a quick shake. “You don’t want to dance. You want what I can’t give you. I don’t play those games.” Anymore, she added silently.
The man cocked his head. “And you got all that from two sentences?”
“Absolutely. And more.”
“I’m intrigued. Mind if I hear the rest?”
Angelique chuckled. “Trust me, Golden Boy. You don’t want to hear what I have to say about you.”
His eyes narrowed perceptibly at the nickname she gave him. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
“Definitely not.” She turned toward the bartender. “Hey, Bryn, could I have a Grey Goose martini, extra olives? Make it dirty, please.” She turned as she heard the man clear his throat.
He swiveled the bar stool so that she could seat herself. “I really would like to hear all about your perception of me, however warped I believe it may be.”
Angelique straightened to her full height and lifted her chin to meet his blue eyed gaze. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
He gave her a gallant bow. “I wouldn’t dare.”
She cleared her throat. “Okay then. You’re a player, and you have been for years. You’re the type of guy who doesn’t give a damn if you leave a date, or a girlfriend, or a wife waiting at home and wondering where you are, while you’re out playing touchy feely with another woman. And you wouldn’t even care if it’s a friend’s woman. You’re obviously spoiled. You’ve been raised with a silver spoon in your mouth and are far too used to getting your way. You are selfish, self-centered, and conceited, and that tan—Is that spray-on, or from a tanning bed?”
She waved off the beginnings of his indignant reply. “Doesn’t matter—whatever it is, it tells me that you spend far too much time in front of a mirror. I cannot abide a man who primps more than I do. It’s not natural, and frankly, it’s a huge turn off.”
She took one of his hands in hers and examined it. “Soft,” she said. “Too damn soft. I bet you’ve never gotten dirt under those nails, or God forbid, blisters on those palms from anything other than maybe a tennis racquet from that exclusive club you belong to. And maybe patting your own self on the back. You definitely don’t know what it’s like to do any kind of physical labor.”
Angelique flipped her hair off her shoulder and placed both hands on her hips. “Had enough?”
His eyes widened curiously. “Is there more?”
“Not without having a real conversation, and I doubt you’d be interested after all that. As a matter of fact,” she said, checking her watch, “I figure you’ll be heading off to find a more receptive audience any second now.”
The man crossed his arms and stood there, looking as though he’d settled in for the night. “Mind if I say something?”
She nodded. “By all means, defend away.”
“Although I do play tennis occasionally, my sport of choice is baseball and I got plenty of blisters from that, playing from the age of five all the way through college,” he said. “Oh, and the tan is natural. I just got back from my time share in the Hawaiian Islands.”
She rolled her eyes. “Flaunting your wealth is almost as bad as primping.”
“Since when is stating a fact considered flaunting?”
She raised her hand to stop him. “If you’d said, ‘It’s natural,’ and stopped at that, it would have been stating a fact. You threw in the time share in Hawaii. There’s your flaunting.” She gave him a pat on the arm. “Give it a rest, Golden Boy. Go find some doe-eyed Sorority girl who’ll fawn all over you. I’m a grown woman and I prefer real men, not spoiled little boys who refuse to take life seriously.” She turned abruptly and bumped her nose into the solid wall of an extremely broad chest, belonging to a very tall, very hunky man. “Oh, excuse me.”
The wall of chest spoke in a deep baritone. “Not at all, ma’am. I couldn’t help but overhear a little of your discussion. Is this gentleman bothering you?”
Angelique smiled up at the mountain of a man with straight, coal black hair, and nearly black eyes—he possessed the look of someone with Native American in his bloodline. His shoulders were massive and he dwarfed the blond guy, who looked to be well over six feet tall, himself.
“No, he’s not bothering me. He’s just having a difficult time accepting that he’s not God’s gift to women.” She took a step back to encompass the whole of the big man. “My goodness, you are a tall one, aren’t you?”
The man swept off his Stetson and brushed a huge hand through his jet black locks. “Yes ma’am. Six foot and seven inches, to be exact. Mike Harper is the name, and as long as we’re talking, would you care to dance with me?” He extended his hand and bowed gallantly at the waist.
Angelique reached out for his hand. “I think I’d like that, Mr. Harper.” She turned. “Bryn, hold my drink back there, please?”
Mike Harper turned her toward the dance floor, his hand placed intimately on the small of her back. He paused long enough to cast a grin at the other man, who stood there gaping at him as though someone slid their mud-covered four by four in the parking spot set aside for his Mercedes. “I hope you’re taking notes, pretty boy, because I don’t give lessons.”
Once out in the middle of the dance floor, Angelique slid her arms up around the man’s neck. “Can you still see him?”
Her dance partner looked over at the guy. “Yep. He’s standing there like he doesn’t know what hit him. I picked up a bicycle tire pump off a street this morning. Maybe I ought to give it to him after this dance.”
“For what?” She gazed curiously at him.
“I believe he could use it for that deflated ego of his. I didn’t catch it all. What’d you say to him?”
She shrugged. “The truth.”
He winced and clucked his tongue. “Poor bastard.”
Angelique laughed, then looked up into the dark eyes of her dance partner. “You’re late, Detective.”
He made a face as he sucked in his breath. “I’m sorry about that, Angel. I tried to call you from my truck, but your phone didn’t pick up.”
“I fried it. Again.” She tried her best to avert his gaze, even as she felt the rumble of laughter from deep in his chest.
“What was it this time?”
“It took a bath.”
“Again? What is that, the third time you dropped it in the tub?” He shook his head, obviously amazed at her God given talent for destroying cell phones. “Was it insured?”
“Sure, but they’ll only replace it twice. I’ll have to pay for a new one this time. I’ve got the parts spread out on my table. I’m hoping it’ll work once it dries.”
“If it doesn’t, I could buy you a new one,” he suggested. “I know you help your parents out a lot financially. If you’re strapped right now, I could help.”
She shook her head. “I’ve got enough in my savings to cover it, but thanks for offering. So, why were you late?”
“I was walking out the door and got a call about a hit and run two streets down from the precinct.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
He shook his head. “No life-threatening injuries, thank God. Some asshole hit a car with a mother and her two small children.”
Angelique gasped. “Bon Dieu! Were they hurt?”
“Everyone was buckled up and belted in safely, but the young mom still got some nasty bruises on the side of her face and on her body. She was more worried about her babies, though.”
“Did the asshole get away?”
“Nope. We were all pretty determined to catch him once we saw those two adorable twin girls being taken out of their car seats. We had that punk behind bars in thirty minutes. Some rich kid with his learner’s permit sneaking his daddy’s Jaguar out for a joy ride. As I was leaving the precinct his lawyer pulled up in a high end Lexus.” Mike shook his head in disgust. “Far from his first offense, but the little bastard won’t see a single day of juvie, I guarantee it.”
She gave him a sad smile and brushed his hair back from his forehead. “You and your guys do good work, Mike. If you didn’t, a good friend of mine wouldn’t be alive.”
“Red McAllister?”
“Actually, I was talking about Tiffany.”
He smiled. “I can remember the first time Dr. Tiffany LeBlanc walked through the doors of my precinct. She’d come in to provide an alibi for Red. That was over a year ago. I didn’t realize you two were that close.”
She nodded. “We’re getting closer every day. She’s helped me so much with my job at the Lake Coburn office.”
“How’s the new job going, anyway?” He led her off the dance floor once the song ended.
“I love it, Mike. Tiff’s insight to the employees and workings of that hospital has been instrumental in helping to get me established pretty quickly.” She walked to the bar. “I’ll take that martini now, Brynn.” When the bartender handed it to her she took a sip. “Mmm, good.”
Mike shuddered as he watched her. “I don’t know how you can drink that stuff. It tastes like rubbing alcohol to me.”
“The olive juice makes the difference, along with good quality vodka. It’s my one drink of the night, so let me savor it. After this, it’s cola or water.” She had set that rule for herself since the Benji Bradford business last year. Angelique knew if she’d been thinking clearly, she never would have let him get that close to her. She was determined nothing like that would ever happen again.
Mike pinned her with his dark-eyed gaze. “So, besides the fact that you’re still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, how’ve you been, Ms. Baptiste?”
She smiled up at him. “I’ve been good. I miss not being able to see my buddy on a regular basis, but other than that, the move to Lake Coburn has been good.”
He dropped his head back on his shoulders and groaned. “Six months we’ve been dating and you still just consider me a buddy. I’m wounded.”
Her eyes sparkled with laughter. “We don’t date, Mike. We spend time together. As friends. No pressure, no serious business . . . ”
“And definitely no sex,” he groaned, as he pulled her hips toward his own. “I didn’t realize what I was sacrificing when I agreed to this arrangement.”
She pushed away from him. “Oh, look now—you were warned well ahead of time. Admit it, Harper. You didn’t think I’d be able to resist your fabulous body for this long, did you?”
He flexed his shoulders back, puffing out his broad chest. “Yeah, how can you?” he asked, playfully.
“It’s not that easy, you know. You’re the first guy I’ve spent any time with since I started this celibacy thing a year ago.” She took another sip of her martini and lowered her lids. “And I can admit that when I’m around you, I can’t help but think about how well we’d fit together, if you know what I mean,” she mused.
He took a deep breath and released it agonizingly slow. “You’re damn right, I know.” He cleared his throat before having to adjust himself. “But dammit, I feel in my bones that we’d be great together, Angel.”
Angelique gave her head a quick shake. “Don’t start, Mike. I have issues I need to deal with before I can have any man in my life. Doctor’s orders. Or in this case, therapist’s orders. I need to learn to live with myself before I can share my life with anyone else.”
He made a disgusted noise. “You are the last person in the world who needs a therapist.”
She thought back to the one night stand with Benji out in back of Red’s club. That one moment of bad judgment and lack of morals had very nearly led to her death. Mike was the detective working that case, so she’d had to give her statement to him. She’d only admitted to having a quick sexual interlude with Benji outside of the club that night. No one else knew that it happened up against the rough exterior brick of the building. It still shamed her to the core. She looked sadly up at him. “It just goes to show how little you know about me.”
Mike reached up to brush a lock of hair away from her face. “Sometimes I wish I could see what’s going on in that head of yours. Maybe then I could understand why you’re so hard on yourself.”
Seeming to sense her need for a subject change, he complied. “How are your folks doing? They still dead set on staying in Lafayette?”
Angelique nodded, relieved to be talking about something else. “My parents are seventy-two and seventy-six, and they’re not going anywhere. As long as I can make it over to check on them once or twice a week, they’re happy. I told mom I was going to see you tonight, and she said to tell you she’s baking fig tarts next week.” She laughed at his wide-eyed grin.
“I was just thinking today it was time to go have coffee with her again.” He flinched then scanned the screen of his ringing cell phone before accepting the call. “Harper here.”
Angelique watched him rein in his emotions throughout the thirty second phone call. Within seconds, she knew he’d have to leave her.
Mike ended the call and shoved his phone back into the inside pocket of his sports coat. “I’ve got to go back to the precinct, Sweetie. It looks like all hell’s about to break loose, but damn, I hate leaving you.”
She smiled, determined to make it easier on him. “It’s okay. If anyone understands about the demands of a job, I do.”
“I know, but I was sure as hell looking forward to spending some time with you.” He sighed. “I miss you, Angel.”
She raised her hand to his face. “I miss you, too, Mike. But, if it’s meant to be, it’ll happen. That’s my new mantra. Come on, I’ll walk you to the door.”
Hand in hand, they made their way to the exit.
He turned toward her. “I’ll call you during the week.”
She nodded and beamed at him. “If you can’t get through to my cell, call me at work. You take care, you hear?”
“I will.” He leaned down to give her a quick kiss, the only kind she allowed. He scanned the room, as though assessing the bevy of guys available to her, then wrapped her in a big bear hug. “Don’t you forget about me.” He spoke in a rough voice. “Don’t you walk away from me without giving me a real chance to show you how much I want you in my life.”
“I won’t, Mike.” She rested her face against his broad chest. “When my situation changes, I promise you’ll be the first to know.”
He pulled away from her and walked off, glancing back briefly to give her one last smile before he left the building.
Angelique took several deep breaths and released them slowly. God almighty, this celibacy thing was torture. Once she’d composed herself again, she made her way back to the bar to order a coke before going to join some ladies from work. She wasn’t there thirty seconds before “Golden Boy” made a repeat appearance.
“That was dirty. How long have you two been seeing each other?” He slid in beside her.
She glanced up at him. “Who says we’re seeing each other? Maybe we just met.”
“Nah, you two were struggling to keep your hands off each other. Though why, I haven’t a clue.”
“How very observant of you,” she admitted. “Truthfully, I haven’t always had self-control when it came to men, but I like to think I’ve learned from my mistakes.” She gazed into his blue eyes. “Can you say the same?”
He returned her gaze. “I’d like to. Maybe you could help me see the error of my ways.”
She gave a hearty laugh. “Honey, that’s something that has to come from you. If you’re not ready, it won’t happen.”
“But how do you know you weren’t put here, in this bar, at this very moment so that our paths could cross. You may just be my salvation, Ms. . . . ?”
She chuckled. “Oh come on, you can do better than that, can’t you?”
He put his head back and laughed. “Okay, I see I’m wasting my time here, so maybe we can just call a truce and start up a friendship.” He took a deep breath and released it in a rush before smiling soberly at her. “Truth is I’m in need of a good friend.”
Angelique studied him and gave him a nod. “That may be the first sincere thing you’ve said to me all night.” She held out her hand to him. “As long as you know that’s all I’m offering here. Angelique Baptiste,” she said, taking his hand.
“Tanner Collins,” he said, sounding surprisingly grateful.
She cocked her head in concentration. “Why does that name sound so familiar to me?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe my bad boy reputation precedes me.”
“You’re not Tiffany’s Tanner, are you?”
He cringed at her comment. “We were engaged for two years before she dumped me for Red. Are you a friend of hers?”
Angelique pursed her lips. “I am, although I haven’t always been. It seems we have something in common, after all.” She chuckled at Tanner’s perplexed look. “I used to date Red.”
Tanner’s brow raised in surprise. “Is that a fact?”
“Yep.”
“You two must have parted on good terms or you wouldn’t be friends with his wife.”
Angelique sucked in her breath. “Yes, and no, and yes again. But that’s another story for another time.”
“I understand completely. Does that mean you wouldn’t mind talking to me about it some other time?”
Angelique studied his face for several moments. “Do you live here in Lake Coburn?”
“I live on the west side of the city.”
She made the decision in an instant. “I could use a buddy here, but I can tell you with certainty that we’ll never be more than friends. Can you accept that?”
He seemed excited at the prospect. “You’ve got a deal,”
“Well then, mon ami, what I need right now is a good dance partner. Think you can help a buddy out?”
“I know I can.” He hauled her out to the floor for an invigorating country two step, the first of many dances they’d share that night. By the end of the evening, they’d settled into an easy, relaxed banter. It had all the signs of a platonic, friendly relationship, destined to last for years.
Admittedly, a first for Tanner Collins.
The next morning, Angelique fished one blouse out of the washer and put the rest to dry. After draping the blouse over a hanger, she closed the laundry room door and headed for a coffee refill. She inhaled the aroma of strongly brewed coffee, had just poured another cup when she heard the front doorbell’s distinctive ring. The clock on her microwave flashed eight a.m. as she walked over to the door, wondering who the hell would be here so early on a Saturday morning.
Angelique opened the door and stood, immobilized by the unexpected, shocked into silence, and staring up into a familiar face. A single utterance laid claim to the world of hurt he’d left her to wallow in.