McCloud's Woman (29 page)

“Miss Simon and I have come to an agreement,” TJ answered gravely without commenting on the film.

“Good, good! I’ve been in touch with the state about that
land out there. The funding isn’t in the budget for more parks, but
they’re looking into it. You need to get your people together with
mine.” The mayor rocked back on his heels with an approving smile.

“Oh, I’m not the one in charge anymore,” Mara said
sweetly. “You’ll need to speak with Ian. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to
form a committee.”

The mayor’s smile vanished. “Has something gone amiss? You are still planning on landscaping the beach, aren’t you?”

Mara’s fingers tightened around TJ’s arm, but she spoke
with blithe insouciance. “I’m sure Ian will see to it. It’s good to see
you Mayor Bridgeton. Let me know if I can help in any way with the
project.”

She tugged TJ away from the stuttering mayor and all but raced down the street toward restaurant row.

“I think I might be enjoying this,” she whispered,
stopping to investigate the posted menu at the Blue Monkey. “No
responsibility, no pressure...”

“It’s only an interlude,” TJ warned. It was a reminder to himself, as well. “Eventually, we have to return to our real lives.”

“I like thinking that we’ll uncover a magic genie with the
power to grant all our wishes.” She caught his arm and dragged him
through the open glass door into the noisy bar. “I’ll wish for my job
back later. Right now, I’m enjoying this chance to have you.”

“You ought to be a writer,” TJ replied dryly, holding up
two fingers to the harried waitress and pointing out the booth he
wanted. At her nod, he led Mara to a quieter corner.

“After I make my first million. A girl has to live on
something while pursuing her dreams.” Removing her hat, she slid into
the seat and eagerly looked around.

“Hey, Miss Simon, is that you on the cover of that
People
magazine?” a local at the bar shouted over the uproar.

“They only put movie stars and supermodels on the cover,” she called back, “But thank you anyway!”

She beamed as the waitress threw down menus and took their
drink order. “No one ever thought I looked like a supermodel before,”
she whispered after the waitress departed. “I think I like it here.”

“Hollywood is probably the only place in the world where
they wouldn’t mistake you for a model.” TJ studied her thoughtfully.
“You’re tall, striking, and wear clothes with the same sort of...” He
shrugged, searching for the word. “I don’t know. Glamour? Distinction?”

Her eyes widened. “I’m not even wearing makeup, TJ! I look like a tall, skinny librarian with my hair like this.”

He didn’t know whether to roll on the floor with laughter
or shake her. “No one would ever get past the front desk if you were a
librarian. You could stick pencils in your bun and wear dowdy dresses to
your ankles, and you’d still look like a supermodel. It’s the way you
hold yourself, the way you smile at the world, the confidence in your
attitude—you scream ‘I’m Someone’ with every move you make.”

“Wow.” She shook her head in wonder. “I must have boffed your brains out.”

TJ couldn’t help laughing at that. The laughter ought to
hurt after all the years of disuse, but once he’d started, it simply
exploded out of him. The whole bar turned to stare, and he nearly
ruptured a blood vessel trying to control himself, but tears came to his
eyes, and he rolled off on another gale when Mara crossed her eyes and
stuck her tongue out at him.

“Enjoying ourselves, are we?” Ian appeared like an evil genie, watching them with mistrust.

“Yeah, we are, so crawl back under your rock and wait for Sid to join you,” Mara ordered.

Wiping his eyes and composing himself, TJ tried to
maintain a solemn face, but he kept sniggering. His career would be
decimated within days, but he hadn’t felt this good in years.

“You might consider changing rocks, old man,” he told Ian
between chuckles. “The one you’re under is about to be kicked over, and
you don’t want to be part of the slimy underside exposed.”

Mara turned her stare on him, but TJ ignored the question in her eyes while Ian regarded him with suspicion.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m just saying corruption takes its toll, and sometimes,
it’s far better to side with the good guys. They might not get as rich,
but they live longer.”

Ian opened his mouth, darted a look at Mara, and closed it
again. With a wary glance, he eased back to the bar and pulled his cell
phone out of his jacket pocket.

“He’s calling Sid,” Mara whispered excitedly. “What have you done today, TJ? Have you been a bad boy?”

“I’m not a bully anymore,” he warned. “I’m not the man, and I’m not the Intimidator.”

She leaned across the booth and shoved his head back with
the heel of her hand. “And you accuse me of having image problems,
Braino.” She dropped back to her seat and scowled. “Anyone who stands up
to a bully, isn’t a bully. Standing up for your rights isn’t being a
bully. Bullies
abuse
power, not use it for justice. If you intimidate cowards, it’s because they’re cowards.”

She gave him power far beyond any right he had to claim
it, but TJ accepted the burden rather than see the light of indignation
leave her eyes.

Soon enough, the magic genie would pop back in his bottle
and life would go back to normal, but for right this minute, TJ would
continue pretending he had the ability to change the world.

Or Mara’s version of it.

“I’ve never seen such a diligent researcher in all my born days. Anytime you need a job, honey, you call on me.”

Mara smiled affectionately at the elderly librarian who’d
help her dig through the stacks for this past week of researching TJ’s
skeletons. “You have an amazing amount of material here. I’ve collected
enough for a book, although I think I fancy Blackbeard a little more
than the modern stuff.”

Standing on the front steps of the library, she squinted
past the wide oaks, automatically scanning the sky for the source of the
helicopter noise. “The mayor’s family makes for a fascinating history,
but they lack the character of Blackbeard.”

The librarian chuckled. “Well, they never curled their
beards or anyone’s toes, for certain. I can remember my mother calling
them Krauts and speaking disrespectfully of the mayor’s daddy buying up
the town, but times change, and she wasn’t one to change with them.”

“There isn’t a helicopter pad around here, is there?” The
noise seemed to be coming closer. She was just getting used to the quiet
sounds of birdcalls and neighbors yelling greetings instead of the
fast-paced roar of motors. She didn’t like the intrusion.

“No, not that I know of.” The librarian scanned the sky as
well, but the branches of the oaks blocked most of it. “Must be one of
those helicopters from Parris Island. Sometimes the boys like to see
what’s happening at the beach, I guess.”

“Well, I’d better be going. TJ will appreciate the
information, Mrs. Lisle. It’s not much to work on, but at least we know
what not to expect.”

“I hope he finishes up soon so you can go back to work on
your film, dear.” The librarian waved her off and returned to the shady
interior.

These days, she’d almost be happy not to have her film
back, Mara mused, admiring the cloudless sky as she walked to TJ’s car.
The helicopter must have moved off; she didn’t hear it anymore.

She rather enjoyed the leisure to dig through the library,
laze on the beach, and make love all night. Unfortunately, her savings
were nearly nil, Aunt Miriam still wanted to institutionalize her
mother, and the studio would definitely go down the drain—along with a
lot of investor financing and all its employees—if Sid and Ian continued
on their present course.

She’d heard Ian had decided to unload the pirate ship
replica at the harbor, load it on a barge, and ship it to Cleo’s beach.
More delays, more expense, and still no guarantee that they could haul
in the boom for the night scenes if TJ didn’t move his dig.

It was
her
film going down the drain. Telling
herself it wasn’t her problem didn’t help. Spending this week waiting
for Clay McCloud to arrive with a solution didn’t feel right either, but
she was fresh out of ideas. And enjoying the vacation entirely too
much.

Heaving her notebooks and heavy shoulder bag into the back
of the Taurus, Mara glanced in the direction of the B&B. She had
time to steal a gossip with Constantina. Now that Irving had given up
and gone back to Brooklyn, it should be safe enough to visit.

TJ and the beach tugged harder.

Thinking about losing everything she’d worked for was too
damned depressing. It was much easier to escape to TJ and pretend he’d
make everything right. She didn’t even mind his enigmatic, secretive
nature. She really didn’t
want
to know what he’d been plotting with his mysterious calls to Clay all week.

She wasn’t relying on others again, she told herself.
She’d called all the money men, warned them they’d lose their shirts.
She figured if they weren’t busy harassing Sid, then they deserved to
lose their investment. She simply didn’t possess the skill or clout to
bash the necessary heads.

She needed a big stick, and TJ was as close to one as she could get.

Climbing in the Taurus, she stopped and picked up dinner
at the café. The regulars greeted her with waves, and in jeans and a
tank top, she didn’t feel like an albino giraffe. Her career might be in
a shambles, but personally, this week with TJ had been the most idyllic
one of her life. She didn’t have to be glamorous, no one expected her
to save the world or her mother, and she had a man who treated her as if
she were a gift from the gods. It was hard to imagine a scientist-type
like TJ being a creative lover, but once he loosened up—Wow!

Hormones zinging, Mara sang along with the radio on the way to the island. The beach house needed a hot tub.

She squealed the car to a skidding halt as soon as she turned from the highway onto Cleo’s sandy lane.

An adorable little blue and white helicopter blocked the road.

“It’s got to be a McCloud thing,” she muttered, climbing
out to investigate. “McGod is more like it. One of these days, I’m gonna
write a book.”

“Talking to ourselves, are we?” a laconic voice inquired from the vicinity of the machine.

“It’s allowed. What have you done with TJ?” She squinted to see under the belly of the thing where she could discern movement.

“He’s gone to see if Cleo has wrenches. Never thought to
see the day Jared would hook up with someone who knew her way around
tools. Wish I’d met her first.”

A long, angular form wriggled from beneath the copter’s
belly. Garbed in an oil-covered jumpsuit, he would have looked like a
garage mechanic if it weren’t for the styled, sun-streaked locks and
expensive sunglasses shoved up onto his head. Mara could recognize
Hollywood from a mile away.

“Thomas Clayton.” She crossed her arms and studied the
tall man rising to his feet. The little boy she’d remembered had grown
into another damned McCloud, all right. But this one had gaunt planes
beneath high cheekbones that would film more cinematically than Garner,
Eastwood, and Cruise, all rolled into one. Not a pretty face, but a
damned compelling one. “When TJ said you’d fly in, I didn’t think he
meant it this literally.”

Clay shrugged and shifted his sunglasses to his nose in
perfect Hollywood-idol mode. “I just rented this baby at the airport.
I’m thinking if I have to live in LA any longer, this is the way to
travel.” He turned to examine the machine with interest. “If we could
just get past the fossil-fuel problem, flight would provide the vehicles
of the future.”

“Solving the noise problem would be beneficial,” TJ
intruded dryly, entering the clearing with toolbox in hand. “Here, I
brought what I could find. Cleo tends to keep tools in kitchen drawers.”

“Never know when a wrench can come in handy.” Grabbing the
box, Clay disappeared beneath the machine again, effectively destroying
his cover-model image.

“Is he planning on parking this thing here?” Mara asked
doubtfully. “Cleo and Jared may not need the road while they’re in
Florida, but it’s a bit of a hike for us.”

“Never asking what’s on Clay’s mind lowers the stress
level. Want to wait until he’s done or hike on back? I think you’ve
still got crew on the beach who will try to pass by here any minute.
Might make good entertainment.”

Mara grinned. “Especially if Glynis and Ian are in the limo. I’ve got dinner in the car. Should we pull up a table and wait?”

“Hey, you got enough for me?” Clay shouted from beneath the machine.

“You’re supposed to call ahead if you want to get fed,
Tommo. If you want a vacation, you’ve got to warn us in advance.” TJ
moseyed over to the car and Mara.

“Think I’d do the work and not have the fun?” Clay called back.

Not wanting to know what he meant by that, Mara admired
TJ’s shirtless chest. “I like your work clothes,” she murmured, now that
she knew his brother eavesdropped.

TJ glanced down at his sweaty chest and dirty jeans and
shrugged. “It’s hot out here. We could leave the food for Clay and hike
back to the house to shower,” he suggested with the hint of a leer in
his crooked eyebrow.

“Don’t tempt me, big boy.” She ran her fingers across the
washboard muscles of his abdomen. “I’d even forego the show Ian will put
on when he discovers the copter, if I didn’t figure his next move would
be to tear the house down to get at us."

“There, I think I’ve got it now.” Clay wriggled out from
under the helicopter, feetfirst. “I hear a cavalcade coming. I take it
this isn’t Jared’s private drive?”

TJ offered his brother a look of aggrieved disbelief. Mara
tickled the furry line of hair disappearing beneath his belt buckle and
was rewarded when he turned his attention on her rather than on slaying
his brother.