Flirting With Disaster (8 page)

She cringed away from him, and his head dropped. He exhaled, his hot breath fanning over her chest.

Then he pushed himself up and retreated to the other side of the couch.

Katie was so relieved, she had to tuck her bare feet beneath her and put the heel of her hand between her eyebrows and squeeze her eyes closed tight. Tequila did not mix well with humiliation.

Caleb was right. This had been such a bad idea.

She monitored Judah from beneath her hand, but he didn’t look as though he planned to attack her. He looked mildly ticked off, as if someone had served him the wrong entree.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She didn’t know which truth to reveal.

You don’t turn me on
.

I can’t stop thinking about another guy
.

I’m such a mess, I can’t even tell you
.

None of it exactly calculated to flatter his ego.

She wondered what Parisian Katie would say in this situation, but that was a dead end. Parisian Katie would never get herself into a scrape like this. Worldly, cosmopolitan women took their lovers to bed, sent them out for coffee and pastry in the morning, and then shooed them home. They didn’t find themselves marooned on couches with drunk celebrities, searching for the right words.

She looked at her hands. “I guess I just don’t want to.”

“I thought you were into me.”

“I thought I was, too. Sorry.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “You’re apologizing?”

“If I gave you … you know. Blue balls or whatever.”

He made a huffing sound of disbelief and shifted a little on the couch. “My balls will survive.”

She could think of no possible follow-up line to that, so they just sat there for a while, awkwardly silent as she tried to work out what to do next.

He didn’t seem in any hurry to evict her. She wasn’t in a rush to get back to her room, either—not after what had just happened. Her emotions were a whirling, tangled mess, and she’d rather not sort them out in bed, a few feet away from Sean.

She’d rather not think about Sean at all. All day long, Sean-related thoughts had been demonstrating a decided tendency to colonize her brain. They multiplied when she wasn’t paying attention.

“Can I stay here for a few minutes?” she asked.

“Stay as long as you like.”

He sounded unfazed by the prospect. It was vaguely insulting, how little he seemed to care that she’d just climbed of his lap. Were women just that interchangeable to him? If she walked out now, would he order another one up from room service?

And what kind of idiot found that insulting? Just seconds ago, she’d been thanking her lucky stars.

Judah pushed to his feet abruptly, startling her. “Relax,” he said. “I’m just grabbing the bottle.”

He carried the tequila over from the bar and lined the shot glasses up on the back of the couch.

“Hold these.”

“I don’t need another one.”

“We have to finish the bottle. Bad luck not to finish it, once it’s open.”

“That’s not a real rule.”

“Sure it is.”

“I used to tend bar, Judah. It’s definitely not a rule.”

He winked. “We’ll call it a guideline, then.”

“Do you always finish every bottle of everything?”

“I try.”

“That’s kind of scary.”

Judah smiled. “It’s also kind of easy to do when you drink in threes.” He slopped tequila onto her hand, and it dripped onto the upholstery, but he didn’t seem to notice. He skipped the salt and the lime, handing her the glass.

She rolled the glass between her palms and watched him knock back his shot.

He left his head tipped against the cushion and his eyes closed after he swallowed, and she studied his face, noticing the strain around his eyes. The bruised-looking skin beneath them, and the way his mouth turned down at the corners when he wasn’t smiling.

He’d spent so much time flashing predatory grins at her, she hadn’t noticed it before. He didn’t look happy. He looked exhausted.

For the first time since she’d met him, she wondered about his motives.
Only if I can have Katie
, he’d said at the interview in Chicago, but she’d seen men more disappointed about being forced to stop at a yellow light than Judah was that she’d pulled him up short just shy of third base.

So what did he want her for? She’d made a pretense of talking about the case when she arrived tonight, and he’d blown it off. He’d skipped their meeting yesterday and refused to talk to Sean during the concert.

Strange behavior.

A real security agent would make an effort to get to the bottom of it.

“Judah,” she asked quietly, watching his face for a reaction, “what am I doing here?”

“Baby, you were supposed to be doing
me
.”

He said it with a cocky grin and half-lidded eyes, a caricature of himself.

She smiled, glad he still had a sense of humor. “You’re Judah Pratt. You could have sex with anybody.”

That earned her a raised eyebrow.

“Almost anybody,” she amended.

“I didn’t want anybody,” he said. “I wanted
you
.”

“What for?”

He shrugged. “Just because. I like you.”

“That’s not much of a reason. You hardly know me.”

“I feel like I know you. You’re easy to be around. I said that already, didn’t I?” He cast his eyes at the ceiling, blinked, and then nodded. “Yeah, I did, to your grouchy partner. You relax me. That wasn’t bullshit. You do.”

“Okay, but that’s not what I mean. What I mean is, why did you hire me? Because it’s not possible that you hired me for my relaxing qualities.”

“It’s not?”

“No. I’m not a masseuse. And you didn’t hire me for sex, because that would be despicable.”

He slanted her a sideways look that said despicable was by no means beneath him.

“Reprehensible,” she added, and he grinned.

“All right. I didn’t hire you for sex. I hired you because I need you.”

“For what?”

“I have no idea. Sometimes I meet people, and I get a feeling about them. I had a feeling about you.”

“You’re joking.”

He closed his eyes again, rolling his head back and forth against the cushion. “I’m dead serious.”

“What feeling do you have?”

“You’re important.”

“Important how?”

He shrugged. “I like you.”

“Honest to God, if you tell me you like me one more time, I’m going to knee you in the nuts.”

“I
do
like you.”

She closed her eyes and counted to ten, because Judah had no idea.

He didn’t know she’d given Levi fourteen years of everything she had. Didn’t know that what she’d gotten in return was a Dear Katie letter that praised her for being such a good friend, such a likable, faithful spaniel of a wife.

I really like you, Katie
.

Levi had told her that and then skipped town with the contents of their joint bank account, leaving her to close up their business and move home in disgrace.

And Judah didn’t know, but Jesus, how was it possible that the first guy she’d tried to sleep with since Levi was handing her the same godforsaken line?

“Judah,” she said. “You hired me and Sean. You had us drive all the way here from Ohio, and then you made us sit around. That was really rude.”

“I know, but—”

“And I get the impression you don’t want to talk about these threatening messages you’re supposedly getting. Maybe there aren’t even any messages.”

“No, there are.”

“So tell me about them.”

His forehead wrinkled up. “No.”

“Tell me
something
. Tell me why I’m here.”

He sighed and flung his arms out against the couch cushions. “I don’t know why you’re here,” he said. “You’re just supposed to be.”

“Supposed to work with you?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Supposed to sleep with you?”

“I thought so.”

Katie stared at him for a long time, trying to decide if he was drunk and confused and pitiable or if he was a spoiled celebrity asshole who’d jerked her around because he felt like it. If she had the words
Use Me
invisibly painted across her forehead.

Or if he really meant it—if he really believed he needed her.

And if she cared.

She did, for some reason that had a lot to do with the dark circles under Judah’s eyes and the real fear she heard in his voice.

Something was wrong with him. He didn’t trust her enough to tell her, but he seemed to wish he could. She saw it in his eyes. In his face. In the way he rubbed his thumb restlessly over the nap of the suedelike couch cushion.

She reached out and put a hand on his arm. “Judah, you can trust me. Whatever’s going on that convinced you to bring me and Caleb all the way to Chicago to talk to you, it’s got to be
important. It’s
got
to be, or I wouldn’t be here.”

He covered her hand with his. The same thing Sean had done, but the touch felt completely different. He opened his eyes and looked right into hers, and for a second she saw through his facade to the real Judah Pratt.

He wasn’t cocksure at all. He wasn’t drunk, either. He was needy. Guarded and scared.

“I can’t,” he said.

“Why not?”

“I don’t. I don’t trust people. I’m in the music business, Katie. Nobody trusts anybody, and Paul is the master of not-trusting. He trained all the trust out of me. I don’t know how to do it anymore.”

“You want to tell me,” she said.

“Part of me wants to.” He took his hand away and leaned forward to retrieve the tequila from where he’d left it on the coffee table. “The rest of me wants to finish off that last set of three with one more shot, then kill the rest of this bottle and pass out.”

He didn’t bother with the glass this time. He drank straight from the neck with his eyes closed, his Adam’s apple bobbing until he finally pulled the bottle away from his mouth with a gasp.

“You’re a wreck,” she said.

He wiped his hand over the back of his mouth and grinned at her again. It was a smile that had sold thousands of records, magazines, and T-shirts. A smile that made her sad, because it didn’t come anywhere near his eyes.

“You’re quick,” he replied, with a tip of the bottle in her direction. “Another reason I like you.”

“So what do we do now? You hired me, but you won’t trust me. Do I just go home, or do you expect me and Sean to follow you to Lexington tomorrow and wait for you to change your mind?”

Judah shrugged. “I guess you do whatever you want.”

Katie wanted an explanation. She wanted Judah’s trust.

Neither of those was hers for the taking, and she’d been around enough drunks to recognize that the glimmer of connection she’d felt to him wasn’t likely to return as he worked his way through the rest of the bottle.

It was late, and she was tipsy. She felt tired, sad, and pawed-over. She wanted to sleep in her own bed, to see her brother and her desk at the office and resume her ordinary, unexciting life.

She wanted to get this satiny underwear out of the crack of her ass, put on her favorite yoga pants, and be schlubby.

It was time to go home.

“Right. Then I’m leaving.”

Judah dropped his head back, exposing his stubbled throat, and closed his eyes. “Is it still Friday?” he asked.

Katie glanced at the clock by the bed. “No. It’s after twelve. Why?”

“Shouldn’t start a trip on a Friday. Bad luck.”

“We both drove here today,” she pointed out. “It was your idea.”

Judah swept his hand out, a loose gesture at the evening they’d just spent together. “See what I mean? Bad luck.”

Katie walked to the door. “Give me a call when you’re ready to talk.”

“That’s probably not going to happen.”

“In that case, it was nice meeting you.”

“Good night, Katie,” he said when she opened the door.

“Goodbye, Judah.”

The door opened with so much force, it banged into the wall.

A muted click, and the room flooded with light. Katie stood by the switch, high heels dangling from her free hand. Her hair was all mussed, her lips swollen and feet bare.

She looked exactly the way he’d been afraid she’d look when she came back, which was why he’d forced himself to turn off the light and close his eyes and go to sleep.

Not that it had worked, but he’d been trying. It was either go to sleep or get shit-faced, and he refused to be that weak. Not about Katie. Not about anything.

He refused.

She bent over the dresser and started opening and closing drawers. Sean glanced at the clock. Twelve thirty.

Her flannel pajama pants landed on the bed, followed by the blob of her T-shirt. A moment later, socks and what was probably a pair of panties, though he looked away too quickly to be sure.

“Sorry if I woke you up,” she said without looking in his direction. She tipped her head to the right and took out an earring, then tipped it to the left and removed the other. “I had a bunch of tequila, and if I tried to do this in the dark, I’d probably break something.”

She scooped her clothes off the bed and entered the bathroom without another word, and Sean stared at the space where she’d been while the shower started up.

He didn’t know how to feel. Jealous. Ticked off. Surprised. Turned on. Tired.

Pleased?

Maybe. She hadn’t spent the night with Judah. She wasn’t in his bed, flat on her back, moaning with pleasure.

She was naked in the shower, twenty feet away from him, preparing to put on flannel pajama pants and go to sleep.

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

He listened to the noises she made, the muffled thuds of bottles of shampoo and conditioner against the shower tile, the water cutting out after a while. Silence as she toweled off.
The faucet running as she brushed her teeth. The loud white noise of a hair dryer.

Familiar sounds, though it had been a while since Sean had heard them. More than a year since he’d spent the night with a woman and even longer since he’d lived with one. What was it now, two years since Sarah had moved out? Three?

He wondered where she’d ended up. She’d been so disappointed when she realized he wasn’t half as serious about the relationship as she was, so angry by the end at the way he’d failed to live up to her expectations, that he’d become more cautious about letting women into his life. Dating was fine, short- or long-term, but the older he got, the more reluctant he became to give any woman keys to his house.