Diamonds Are Truly Forever: An Agent Ex Novel 2 (20 page)

“Well, you aren’t ticking,” she said.

Much more of this and they’d have to make long detour past their own house first. A guy across the parking lot winked at them.

“Stace, no offense here, but I don’t want to be arrested for displaying too much affection in public. Your mom isn’t going to grope me like this. At least I hope not.” He nodded toward a family walking across the parking lot. “There are children present.”

She pulled back and glared at him. “FYI, I wasn’t groping.”

“Did I pass the test?” he asked.

“You’re good. I didn’t feel a thing.”

The flush in her cheeks said she was lying. She felt something, only it wasn’t electronic.

He cleared his throat. “Remember, when we get to your mom’s, we’re the happy, loving, newly reunited couple under the influence of our unquenchable, undying love.”

She stared at him with an expression that said,
Right.
“You should really sign up to write greeting cards. That was awful.”

“You’re going to play the part, right?”

She slid her hands in her front jean pockets and shrugged. “I’m going to try.”

“Try?”

“Okay, do. I’ll do it. Because lying saves lies. But only until my mother finds out she’s been scammed by her only child. Then she’ll kill me and make a liar out of your saying.”

He shook his head. “Get in the car.”

They both piled in. Drew took a deep breath. It wasn’t going to be easy to bug Sam’s house. The place was loaded with security and monitoring devices. He’d have to use extreme caution. Be careful even mentioning spying, even of the spousal type, to Linda.

NCS had tried to bug Sam’s house three times already and every time their equipment had been swept out. This latest gear should get past Sam’s bug-sweeping equipment. Assuming Drew could get it installed.

“Have you and your mom talked about spying on Sam over the phone?” he asked Staci as they drove to Linda’s.

“No, why?”

He shrugged. “Just wondering.” He took a deep breath, wondering how to warn Staci without making her suspicious. He decided to appeal to his superior spy knowledge and experience.

“Not to be paranoid,” he said, “but I’d be cautious about mentioning spying on Sam anywhere in their house or cars. Or anything about Linda’s suspicions that he’s cheating on her.”

Staci looked at him and frowned. “Why?”

“For one, people who are cheating are constantly worried about being caught. They have their antennas up for any suspicions on the part of their spouse, family, and friends. We don’t want to tip our hand.

“And two, statistics show that people who are cheating on their spouses spy back on their noncheating spouse at least sixty percent of the time. It goes back again to not wanting to get caught. They have to know what their spouse is up to, so they check their spouse’s schedule, make sure they really are where they say they’re going. That kind of thing.

“And sometimes they spy to justify their actions by projecting their own behavior on their spouse, becoming suspicious themselves. Or to get evidence on their spouse should they decide to leave their spouse and divorce.”

“What?” Staci sat up straight and stared at him.

He had no idea if his “facts” were true or not. And apparently neither did Staci. Long experience had taught him that if you say something with enough authority, people will believe you. From the look on his wife’s face, Staci did indeed believe him.

He nodded to emphasize his point. “You can’t be too careful when dealing with a cheater. If the subject comes up, shut Linda down until you can move outside to talk about it. Anywhere that doesn’t have ears.”

Staci frowned. “You’ve been in the espionage business way too long.”

He shrugged. “Which has taught me caution.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. “I guess even if you’re just being paranoid, it can’t hurt to be judicious.”

“That’s my girl.”

She frowned at him again, probably irritated he’d called her his girl.

Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up in front of Linda’s Rose Hill home. There were no cars in the driveway.

Staci frowned. “Sam always parks in the driveway. No room in the garage. Maybe we caught a break and he’s out.”

She sounded as hopeful as Drew felt.

“Ready for our performance, Ninety-nine?”

She rolled her eyes. “I suck at drama. Remember, I was the girl in elementary school who was always stuck doing set design or part of a choral reading. In the back. Out of sight.”

“Just remember what it was like when we first fell in love. Act on those feelings and it will be fine.” He pulled the key out of the ignition and opened his door.

“Fine. But remember, you asked for it.”

*   *   *

Staci grabbed the flowers and stepped out of the car, trying to calm both her nerves and her anger at his insistence they tell her mother right now, right here. Her mom might expect the nerves, but anger would be out of place.

The last thing Staci wanted was to make goo-goo eyes at Drew, but that’s what she did. Because back in the day when she and Drew first started going out, they were inseparable and prone to too much public display of affection.

Sam used to call them DrewStaci. She had to channel good old DrewStaci again. If that’s what Drew wanted, that’s what she was going to give him. But it was a dangerous game she played. Pretending sometimes leads to the real thing. Just ask all the actors who’ve fallen for their costars. The last thing she needed was to let herself be in love with Drew again. Lust was one thing. Lust she could handle. Maybe.

Drew waited for her on the sidewalk, looking handsome and like the boy next door again. Like the man she fell in love with. Like the terrific son-in-law ready to take care of Linda’s little girl. All until-death-do-us-part. Which, given his line of work and her mother’s reaction to being deceived, could be sooner than either of them wanted. He really knew how to pull one over on people. Her mother had always loved him.

Staci walked over, took his hand, and gave it a good, too-hard squeeze, hoping to see him wince. Or fight not to. His knuckles popped and his fingers turned blue beneath her grip. But wince? Not hardly.

He returned her bone-popping grip with a reassuring squeeze and flashed that killer,
I’m so in love with you
smile of his down at her. Her heart raced. Her pulse leaped. He could probably see it fluttering in her neck like a blinking beacon. The man was way too observant.

His smile seemed so genuine. Even she almost believed it. For a second. But knowing Drew, he was probably concerned her mother was already peeking through the front curtains at them.

“The show must go on,” he said, and leaned over to brush her lips with a kiss.

She was so stunned, she lost her tight grip on his hand and just stood there. That tiny flutter kiss that barely brushed her lips rocked her to her toes. Then she remembered DrewStaci and her role.

She leaned into him. Wrapped the hand holding the flowers around his neck. Pressed up against him. Parted her lips and kissed him as hotly, deeply, wetly, lingeringly, and expertly as any Frenchwoman had ever kissed a man.

He had the audacity to kiss her back. In exactly the same manner. Deeper. Smoother. Harder.

Damn it all!
He was playing a kissing game of chicken. Of see who pulls away first.

She refused to lose. She ran her fingers through his hair and traced the tender top of his earlobe until he shuddered beneath her touch.

He kissed her harder and more deeply. At this rate, he was going to bruise her lips. To prove a point, she kissed him back.

He sucked her lip and that was it. She gave up and pulled away. She did
not
want a lip hickey. She stared at him. He stared back.

She was breathing hard. But so was he.

“Cheater,” she said.

He stared at her intently, like a man in love. But his eyes danced with the thrill of victory.

“I can’t believe I’m out on an espionage mission with you!” she hissed back at him. It was a good thing she had her back to the house.

Not only was she on a mission with him, she was letting it affect her emotions. She did a quick mental calculation. She’d had her last period a week and a half before Drew showed up at the house and someone had fired two at her head. Which meant—she was simply in her horny time of the month.

Yes, that explained a lot. Men, any man really who wasn’t totally disgusting, looked pretty good this time of month. Yes, that had to be it. Denial was such a convenient thing.

He took her hand. “Smile sweetly.”

She gave him one last glare before forcing a smile.

They walked hand in hand to her mom’s front door, happy, lovesick grins feigned on their faces. For her part, Staci was hoping her mom was out with Sam. It seemed like a reasonable thought. It was Saturday.

“Ready?” Drew asked, his finger poised over the doorbell.

“May as well meet the firing squad head-on. Ring away.”

He pressed the bell. Her mom’s small Pomeranian, Poppy, yipped from inside, ever the watchdog. That bark was about as scary as the tinkle of a bell. Seconds later, Staci’s mom called out, “Coming!”

Staci heard her padding toward the door with the click of Poppy’s claws alongside her.

Staci frowned. Her mother was in.

Staci clutched Drew’s arm.

Still smiling like a lovesick idiot, he leaned in and whispered in her ear, “You’re about to draw blood.”

“So much for sweet nothings,” she whispered back to him.

Staci saw an eye appear at the peephole. Then her mother threw the door open. “Drew!” Her gaze ran to Staci. “Staci! What is this?” Her jaw dropped and her mouth popped open.

Poppy barked her happy bark at Drew and flipped over on her back, begging for a belly scratch. That traitorous dog had always liked him best. Poppy was useless.

Drew grinned and leaned down to humor the dog.

Except for an awkward, surprised pregnant pause, Staci performed an almost perfect DrewStaci act. She kept that dumb, beaming smile on her face. The kind she’d worn the first time she introduced Drew to her mom. That look that said,
This is him. The one. Forever.

Only she’d been wrong about that back then.

“Surprise!” Staci said.

Drew stood up.

Staci leaned her head against Drew’s arm and shoulder. Did she look too corny? Too teenager in love? She didn’t care. She was going for the soap opera overacting award. If Drew wanted drama she was going to give it to him.

Poppy danced around Drew, begging for more loving. Linda stared at them, waiting for someone to explain.

“I tried to tell you yesterday at lunch,” Staci said. Which sounded appropriately lame.

“So that’s what the sudden urge to eat with your mother was all about.” She still seemed hesitant and disbelieving. “What does this mean? Is the divorce off?”

Staci nodded and kept the
hopelessly in love
smile on her face, which, sadly, was not that hard to do. Being around Drew was wearing down her defenses and her resolve to do the right thing. “The divorce is off.”

For now. The next few days at least.

That’s when Linda screamed a cry of joy and pulled Drew into a big hug. A second later she let Drew go and hugged Staci.

Linda’s eyes shone with tears. “I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it! A mother’s prayer answered. Oh, I knew you two belonged together. I knew you should patch things up. That you could if you’d just give yourselves a chance.” She did everything but clasp her hands together and fall on her knees in thanks.

This was really almost too much for Staci to bear. But she had to give herself credit for a fine acting job. Or was it? She feared there was a little too much reality behind her method acting.

Linda stepped back out of the doorway. “Come in, come in, and tell me all about it! I want details. Details, details, details!”

Staci looked pointedly around her. “Where’s Sam? He’ll want to know, too.”

A shadow crossed her mom’s happy expression, just a hint of one, but knowing the circumstances it was enough for Staci to catch. “He’s out of town for the weekend. Camping with a few buddies.” Linda didn’t sound convinced that was where he really was.

“That’s too bad,” Drew said. “We wanted to surprise you both.”

Staci followed Linda into the living room, dragging Drew behind her, shooting him an exuberant smile. She was happy—that Sam was gone.

Her mother scooped Poppy up and sat with her in her lap in a stiff upholstered chair. Staci plunked onto the sofa opposite it. Drew sat down next to Staci, so close he was practically in her lap. He rested his hand on her thigh. She couldn’t even squirm or brush it off. He must have sensed her discomfort because he did more than rest his hand, he cupped her thigh and brushed against her breast with his arm. Even through her jeans his hand felt too hot. She felt too hot.