Falling for Rachel
Page 22
She didn’t want to think about what he’d been thinking.
Without taking off her jacket, she paced the apartment. There had to be a reasonable, diplomatic way to handle this, she told herself. He was only nineteen, he just had a crush, she was overreacting.
Then she remembered those limber fingers on the back of her neck, the firm press of those lips, the smooth and practiced way he’d drawn her against him.
Wrong, Rachel thought, and closed her eyes. She wasn’t dealing with a child’s puppy love, but with a full-grown man’s desire.
Dropping down onto the arm of the couch, she dragged her hands through her hair. She should have seen it coming, she told herself. She should have stopped it before it started. She should have done a lot of things.
After twenty minutes of kicking herself, she snatched up the phone. She might be hip-deep in quicksand, but she wasn’t going to sink alone.
“Lower the Boom.”
“Let me talk to Muldoon,” Rachel snapped, scowling at the sound of laughter and bar chatter that hummed through the receiver. “It’s Rachel Stanislaski.”
“You got it. Hey, Zack, phone for you. It’s the babe.”
Babe? Rachel thought, narrowing her eyes. “Babe?” she repeated out loud the moment Zack had answered.
“Hey, sugar, I’m not responsible for the opinions of my bartenders.” He took a swallow of mineral water. “So you finally realized you couldn’t keep away from me.”
“Stuff it, Muldoon. We need to talk. Tonight.”
He stopped grinning and shifted the phone. “Is there a problem?”
“Damn right.”
“Nick breezed through a couple of minutes ago. He seemed fine when he headed upstairs.”
“He’s upstairs?” she said, calculating. “Just make sure he stays up there. I’m coming right over.” She hung up before he could ask any questions.
It wasn’t exactly the way he’d planned it, Zack thought as he mixed a couple of stingers. His strategy had been to lie back for a few days, let Rachel simmer. Until she came to a boil—and came looking for him.
She hadn’t sounded lonely or aroused or vulnerable over the phone. She’d sounded mad as a hornet.
He cast his eyes up at the ceiling, picturing the apartment overhead, as he automatically added a twist to a glass of club soda. Obviously it had to do with Nick. Where the hell had the boy been all evening? he wondered.
What kind of trouble had he gotten himself into this time? With half an ear, Zack took an order for two drafts, a margarita on the rocks and a coffee, black. Damned if he’d thought the boy was in trouble, Zack reflected. Nick had looked relaxed, calm, even approachable, when he’d checked in. Zack remembered thinking that the date had been a rousing success. And he’d hoped to be able to ease the girl’s name out of his brother—along with a bit more salient information.
He didn’t figure Nick needed a course in the birds and bees, but he hoped to drop a few hints about responsibility, protection and respect.
A steady girl, a steady job, a stable home. They all seemed to be coming together. So what the hell…
His thoughts broke off as he looked up. Rachel walked in, cheeks flushed from the chilly evening, eyes snapping. As she crossed the room, she peeled off her jacket to reveal one of those soft sweaters she often wore. This one was the color of a good burgundy, with a wide cowl neck that draped softly over the swell of her br**sts. It rode her hips, and under it she wore snug black leggings that showed off those first-class legs.
Zack checked to make sure his tongue wasn’t hanging out.
She stopped at the bar only long enough to glare at him. “In your office.” Without waiting for a response, she strode off.
“Well, well…” Lola watched Rachel swing Zack’s office door open, then shut it behind her with a loud click. “Looks like the lady’s got something on her mind.”
“Yeah.” Zack set the last glass on Lola’s tray. All he could think was, there was definitely a fire in the hole. “If Nick comes back down, tell him I’m…tied up.”
“You’re the boss.”
“Right.” And he intended to remain the boss. He swung through the bar and, taking one bracing breath, marched into his office.
Rachel had tossed her jacket and purse aside, and was pacing. When the door opened, she stopped, swung her hair back and leveled a killing gaze at him.
“Don’t you ever talk to him?” she demanded.” Aren’t you making any effort to find out what’s going on in his head? What kind of a guardian are you, anyway?”
“What the hell is this?” He threw up his hands in disgust. “I don’t see or hear from you in days, then you come stalking in here just so you can yell at me. Just simmer down, Counselor, and remember I’m not some felon on the witness stand.”
“Don’t tell me to simmer down,” she tossed back. It felt good, really good, to assuage her guilt and frustration with a pitched battle. “I’m the one who’s going to have to deal with him. And if you were any kind of a brother, you would have known. You could have warned me.”
Because his confidence as a brother was still at low tide, he hissed out an oath. Rachel echoed it as he shoved her into a chair. “Just sit down and take it from the top. I assume we’re talking about Nick.”
“Of course we’re talking about Nick.” She popped up again, and was pushed right back down. “I don’t have anything else to discuss with you.”
“We’ll bypass that for now. Just what is it I should have known and warned you about?”
“That he’d…he’d…” She blew out a breath, struggling for the proper phrase. “That he’d started to think of me as a woman.”
“How the hell is he supposed to think of you? As a tuna?”
“I mean as a woman,” she said between her teeth. “Do I have to spell it out?”
His brows shot up, then settled again as he reached for a cigarette. “Don’t be stupid, Rachel. He’s nineteen. I’m not saying he’s blind and wouldn’t appreciate the way you look. But he’s got a girl. He was out with her tonight.”
“You idiot.” She sprang up again, and this time she thumped a fist on his chest. “He was out with me tonight.”
Without taking off her jacket, she paced the apartment. There had to be a reasonable, diplomatic way to handle this, she told herself. He was only nineteen, he just had a crush, she was overreacting.
Then she remembered those limber fingers on the back of her neck, the firm press of those lips, the smooth and practiced way he’d drawn her against him.
Wrong, Rachel thought, and closed her eyes. She wasn’t dealing with a child’s puppy love, but with a full-grown man’s desire.
Dropping down onto the arm of the couch, she dragged her hands through her hair. She should have seen it coming, she told herself. She should have stopped it before it started. She should have done a lot of things.
After twenty minutes of kicking herself, she snatched up the phone. She might be hip-deep in quicksand, but she wasn’t going to sink alone.
“Lower the Boom.”
“Let me talk to Muldoon,” Rachel snapped, scowling at the sound of laughter and bar chatter that hummed through the receiver. “It’s Rachel Stanislaski.”
“You got it. Hey, Zack, phone for you. It’s the babe.”
Babe? Rachel thought, narrowing her eyes. “Babe?” she repeated out loud the moment Zack had answered.
“Hey, sugar, I’m not responsible for the opinions of my bartenders.” He took a swallow of mineral water. “So you finally realized you couldn’t keep away from me.”
“Stuff it, Muldoon. We need to talk. Tonight.”
He stopped grinning and shifted the phone. “Is there a problem?”
“Damn right.”
“Nick breezed through a couple of minutes ago. He seemed fine when he headed upstairs.”
“He’s upstairs?” she said, calculating. “Just make sure he stays up there. I’m coming right over.” She hung up before he could ask any questions.
It wasn’t exactly the way he’d planned it, Zack thought as he mixed a couple of stingers. His strategy had been to lie back for a few days, let Rachel simmer. Until she came to a boil—and came looking for him.
She hadn’t sounded lonely or aroused or vulnerable over the phone. She’d sounded mad as a hornet.
He cast his eyes up at the ceiling, picturing the apartment overhead, as he automatically added a twist to a glass of club soda. Obviously it had to do with Nick. Where the hell had the boy been all evening? he wondered.
What kind of trouble had he gotten himself into this time? With half an ear, Zack took an order for two drafts, a margarita on the rocks and a coffee, black. Damned if he’d thought the boy was in trouble, Zack reflected. Nick had looked relaxed, calm, even approachable, when he’d checked in. Zack remembered thinking that the date had been a rousing success. And he’d hoped to be able to ease the girl’s name out of his brother—along with a bit more salient information.
He didn’t figure Nick needed a course in the birds and bees, but he hoped to drop a few hints about responsibility, protection and respect.
A steady girl, a steady job, a stable home. They all seemed to be coming together. So what the hell…
His thoughts broke off as he looked up. Rachel walked in, cheeks flushed from the chilly evening, eyes snapping. As she crossed the room, she peeled off her jacket to reveal one of those soft sweaters she often wore. This one was the color of a good burgundy, with a wide cowl neck that draped softly over the swell of her br**sts. It rode her hips, and under it she wore snug black leggings that showed off those first-class legs.
Zack checked to make sure his tongue wasn’t hanging out.
She stopped at the bar only long enough to glare at him. “In your office.” Without waiting for a response, she strode off.
“Well, well…” Lola watched Rachel swing Zack’s office door open, then shut it behind her with a loud click. “Looks like the lady’s got something on her mind.”
“Yeah.” Zack set the last glass on Lola’s tray. All he could think was, there was definitely a fire in the hole. “If Nick comes back down, tell him I’m…tied up.”
“You’re the boss.”
“Right.” And he intended to remain the boss. He swung through the bar and, taking one bracing breath, marched into his office.
Rachel had tossed her jacket and purse aside, and was pacing. When the door opened, she stopped, swung her hair back and leveled a killing gaze at him.
“Don’t you ever talk to him?” she demanded.” Aren’t you making any effort to find out what’s going on in his head? What kind of a guardian are you, anyway?”
“What the hell is this?” He threw up his hands in disgust. “I don’t see or hear from you in days, then you come stalking in here just so you can yell at me. Just simmer down, Counselor, and remember I’m not some felon on the witness stand.”
“Don’t tell me to simmer down,” she tossed back. It felt good, really good, to assuage her guilt and frustration with a pitched battle. “I’m the one who’s going to have to deal with him. And if you were any kind of a brother, you would have known. You could have warned me.”
Because his confidence as a brother was still at low tide, he hissed out an oath. Rachel echoed it as he shoved her into a chair. “Just sit down and take it from the top. I assume we’re talking about Nick.”
“Of course we’re talking about Nick.” She popped up again, and was pushed right back down. “I don’t have anything else to discuss with you.”
“We’ll bypass that for now. Just what is it I should have known and warned you about?”
“That he’d…he’d…” She blew out a breath, struggling for the proper phrase. “That he’d started to think of me as a woman.”
“How the hell is he supposed to think of you? As a tuna?”
“I mean as a woman,” she said between her teeth. “Do I have to spell it out?”
His brows shot up, then settled again as he reached for a cigarette. “Don’t be stupid, Rachel. He’s nineteen. I’m not saying he’s blind and wouldn’t appreciate the way you look. But he’s got a girl. He was out with her tonight.”
“You idiot.” She sprang up again, and this time she thumped a fist on his chest. “He was out with me tonight.”
