When Jace didn’t go on, Paige said, “Explain.”
He took another sip of coffee, then unwound himself from his stool and headed to the coffeemaker. “Want more?” he asked, filling his own cup.
“Sure. I guess I know now why we both like coffee. If you were a… what?”
“Commando.”
When she just looked at him, and presumably when she didn’t fall off her stool from shock, he refilled her cup, came around the bar and sat on his stool again, swiveled to face her with one stockinged foot on the rung of the chair, and said, “Second Commando Regiment, Royal Australian Army. Special forces, Aussie version. Formerly.”
“Suddenly,” she said, “I feel much safer.”
He smiled, nice and slow. “Suddenly, I’m convinced you’re not posting me your undies. Not the reaction I was expecting.” The blue eyes that looked at her over the rim of his cup were warm, and she was feeling pretty warm herself, the tingles radiating down her body and going straight home. “Speaking of professions,” he said, setting the cup down again, “I haven’t known many undies-shop owners who named their pet goats ‘Motherfucker.’”
She gave him a sweet smile of her own. “Maybe you haven’t known enough undies-shop owners. And that’s not her name. It’s Tinkerbelle.”
“I must’ve misheard.” He lifted one big hand to her face and touched her cheek gently, tracing a slow line down until his fingers were beside her mouth. “I like these, by the way. Been wanting to tell you so.”
“My dimples.” She wasn’t doing so well with her breathing. He let his hand fall, and she set down the coffee cup she’d forgotten she was holding and reached out herself. Her heart was beating too hard, and all she was doing was brushing the sleeve of his black T-shirt with her fingertips. But when she raised her gaze to his face, that expression was more intense than ever. That expression could freeze a woman. Or melt her.
She kept looking into his eyes, and he sat perfectly still as she inched up the edge of his sleeve. And then she looked at what she’d uncovered.
That was an arm. Combat-built rather than bodybuilder-massive. Forearm, biceps, triceps, shoulder, all the parts as ordered, and every inch of it hard. That arm said “testosterone.” Or maybe it was her body saying it. Something was sure saying it.
She pushed the fabric up nearly to his shoulder until she was looking at the entire tattoo. A pair of intersecting diamonds with an unsheathed dagger in the middle, long and lethal. With a banner across it.
She didn’t let the sleeve fall, because she could feel the tension in his muscles, his awareness of her touch, and she needed to keep feeling it. Her mouth had gone dry. “What does it say?” she whispered.
“Foras Admonitio.”
“Which means?”
“Without warning.”
“Ah.” It was a sigh, and then she did the other thing. She traced the diagonal white line, all four inches of it, that marred the tattoo. Just her fingertips running along it, and the muscle jumped under her touch. “And this?”
“Souvenir.”
“Mm.”
“You like that?”
“Yeah.” Barely a breath.
When his hand came up to brush over her cheek, she leaned into it, and her hand was still on him, her eyes still looking into his.
A gentle brush of his lips over hers, and her eyes were drifting closed. The pulse that went through her was nothing like gentle, though, and when his hand cradled her head and he deepened the kiss, she made a sound. She was afraid it was a moan.
She could feel his lips curving against hers, and he kissed his way to her dimple, lingered there, and whispered, “Like that, too?”
Oh, yeah.
Lily.
She sat up so fast, she had to catch herself on the edge of the counter, then shoved a hand into her hair, dropped it again, and said, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.”
“But then,” he said, “you didn’t. I did.” His eyes had lost their softness. “What is this? What is it you want?”
“I just—I can’t—” She stopped. What did she say now? She slid off the stool and tried to think.
He stood up, too, and Tobias hauled himself to his feet and stood looking up at him. “Wait,” Jace said. “I’m being an insensitive bastard again, aren’t I?”
“No. Of course not. My fault.” Her hands were trying to scrub over her pants, but she was wearing an apron. Because she was Lily.
“You’re divorced,” he guessed. “How long?”
“A while. It’s not that. It’s—”
She didn’t do flustered. She was having trouble doing anything else.
He grabbed the coffee cups, went and put them into the sink, then came back and began repacking his backpack with neat, economical movements.
Right. Stalker.
“You need to go to the police,” she said with relief. Back on ground she knew. “Obviously you can handle yourself, but if the person does approach you? You don’t know whether they’re violent, but I’d say they’re showing the signs. If that happens, especially if it’s a woman, and you have to defend yourself, you need this on record.”
“You know a lot about it,” he said, “for a woman who owns a lingerie shop.”
“Oh. I, uh, I heard. A friend. That it happened to.”
Those eyes again, seeing too much. “A friend? Or something else? Is that what the problem is? Your ex? The cop? That would explain a lot.”
She shook her head. “No. Forget me. Really. But do go to the police.”
“I will,” he said. “What you said makes sense. I could also be gratified that you’re worried I’ll take out the stalker instead of the other way around.”
“Of course that’s what I’m worried about. You’re trained. Training almost always wins. You know what they say.”
“No. What do they say?”
“Bad guys can’t shoot for shit.”
He laughed, and she almost jumped. He shook his head, and was still grinning when he said, “Right. How about this? She—he—they want me to come to the gym this afternoon. You could come with me, do a workout. No confrontation. No communication. But a message all the same.”
“Could be provoking,” she said slowly.
“Anything could be provoking.” The laughter was gone. “I’m not hanging about, quaking in my boots, afraid to move. You told me your saying. Now I’ll tell you mine. Take the fight to the enemy. Don’t let it come to you.”
“Without warning.”
“That’s the motto.”
“All right,” she said. “I’m off at five.”
“I’ll collect you at the shop then. We’ll arrive together. Throw them off. Make them wonder.”
It was a workout. It was helping him. That was good. She’d just have to be more careful. About everything.
She stood at the door and watched him go. Broad shoulders. Self-possession. Danger. Too much temptation. And in the distance, her phone rang.
What time was it? Had to be close to nine. She wasn’t showered, she wasn’t dressed, and she hadn’t even begun the transformation into her Lily-body. She’d swear it took her longer than a female impersonator.
She took the stairs as fast as her leg could manage, but by the time she got there, the ringing had stopped. Lily.
She was right. There was a text, though, too, showing on her home screen. From a phone number she didn’t recognize.
One word.
Leave.
“All right,” she said aloud. “That’s creepy.” Which must be how Jace had felt. Creepy, and threatened. This was why cops didn’t go around giving out their cell-phone numbers. Unfortunately, she had Lily’s phone now, and who knew how many people had her number? The grocery store. The gym. The library. Lily’s doctor and dentist. Her bank. Hailey, of course. Whoever else. And now Jace. Brett Hunter, maybe?
And everybody who worked at all those places. If she changed the number, Lily would have to give everybody the new one, so what would be the point? No anonymity at all, not in a town this small.
Phone numbers could be traced, but she’d bet this one was a burner. Nobody would be stupid enough to send a threat from their own cell phone, and this was a threat. She knew it. She felt exposed, like she was sitting with her back to the door, the nape of her neck prickling.
Do one thing. Do the next thing. She called her sister.
“Hey,” Lily said. “How’s it going?”
“Good. Fine. All set to do Day Two at the store all by myself. Getting ready now.”
She’d tried for chirpy, but of course Lily saw through it. “What happened?”
“Nothing happened. Everything’s just fine.” She punched the speaker button, tossed the phone on the bed, untied the apron, and pulled the shirt over her head. She smelled like goat. She hadn’t even thought of that.
Tough guys always seemed to want soft women. Perfumed women. Women like Lily. But Jace hadn’t kissed her while she’d been being Lily.
Except that he had.
“What?” Lily said again. “What did you do?”
Paige sat on the bed, unhooked her bra, pulled off her socks, then wriggled out of her leggings. She wasn’t going to tell Lily about the text. She’d stick to the other part. “I might have kissed somebody. But don’t worry, I made him think I—you—were damaged. So you’re safe. Just, you know, damaged.”
“Do not tell me,” Lily said, the alarm coming through loud and clear. “You kissed Brett Hunter.”
“What? No. Of course not. Why would I do that? I thought we didn’t like Brett Hunter. And by the way—does he have your phone number?”
“I think so. Yes. Early on, when I didn’t realize why he’d asked for it. He doesn’t call, though. He comes by. Like he thinks it’s harder to say ‘no’ in person. Which, of course, it is. And if it isn’t him… Oh. Oh, no.” The dread in Lily’s voice wouldn’t have been overblown if Paige had sold her into marriage to Bigfoot.
“Sorry. I did. I kissed the hairy scowler. Except that he shaved, and let me tell you, he’s no Brett Hunter.”
“I’m going to have to sleep with this guy, aren’t I?” Lily said. “Or break up with him. Paige. He scares me.”
“Nope. First, you don’t have to sleep with anybody. And second, I told you. I explained that I’m too damaged.” Paige gathered up the clothes, went to the bathroom, and stuffed them in the hamper. Being Lily came with a lot of laundry. “How about you? Relaxing?”
“Well, that’s what I called about. And I am not that damaged. What are you making me out to be? I’m never going to be able to show my face again, am I?”
“Sorry. I had to think of something. But go ahead and explain the relaxing.” She pulled out her toothbrush—the one thing that was actually hers—and started the grooming process.
Lily sighed. “OK. I’m ignoring the hit to my reputation. I’m thinking of going somewhere for a few days.”
“Sounds good,” Paige said around the toothbrush. “Where?”
“Sea Ranch. It’s north. On the ocean.”
Paige spat out her toothpaste. “I know where it is.”
“I found a condo I could rent. No internet, and my phone won’t even work most of the time. Not being reachable at all—it’s… it sounds peaceful. What do you think?”
“I think you should go.” Paige pulled down the four bottles that made up Lily’s facial cleansing regimen. Washing your face was apparently not nearly good enough. “You moved on too fast from Antonio, you think? Complicated your life too much?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I just want to be lazy, even after our vacation.”
“Nope. Nobody who wants to be lazy would get goats. Not to mention chickens. Not to mention running a business. Or having so many clothes. Your life is complicated.”
Lily laughed. “All right. I’m going. Back in San Francisco on Thursday. I’ll know you’re at the meeting, but I won’t be able to do anything about it, so I’ll have to go for a walk instead.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“See you in a week, then. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Paige hung up, then looked at the text again.
Leave.
Pressuring Lily, because Lily looked like she could be pressured. Well, Paige could fix that, and Lily could come back. Meanwhile, she’d help Jace discourage his stalker.
You had to be who you were. She might not have a real job to do, but she could do this.