Chapter Seven

“So who’s the new man in your life?” Mary Jasper, another DEA agent, asked. Mary and Taylor had started with the agency around the same time and shared a cubicle. They were also friends.

Taylor looked up from the document she was reading. “What?”

“Man in your life. Who is he?” Mary asked again, slowly drawing out each word. “Don’t bother saying there isn’t one. You’ve got that glow about you.”

“Glow? What the heck are talking about?” She’d seen herself in the mirror this morning, and she looked the same as she did every morning.

“Really? I have to spell it out?” Mary rolled her chair across the cubicle. “Everyone gets this look when they start a new relationship. Especially when the sex is good. It wears off over time. You’ve had it for over a week, my friend. So, who is he? Anyone I know?”

If anyone would know about a look, it would be Mary. The woman dated more than anyone Taylor knew. She’d lost count of how many men Mary had gone out with just in the past twelve months.

“My new neighbor.”

“Do tell.” Mary leaned on Taylor’s desk, apparently not moving until she got some information.

She gave Mary enough information to hopefully satisfy her curiosity without sharing intimate details.

“Has he met Reese and your mom?” Mary asked.

Mary knew all about Dennis, and why Taylor had put an end to their relationship. “Oh, yeah. He’s come over for dinner a few times, and Reese is teaching him to play soccer. She gave him his second lesson Tuesday night.”

Unfortunately, she’d missed seeing both lessons because of work, but Mom filled her in on them. Mom said if she didn’t know better she’d think Curt had children of his own, considering how he interacted with Reese.

“Wow. Now, that’s impressive. Especially since you were here with me until nine o’clock Tuesday night. Sounds like this guy might have real potential.”

What would Mary think if she told her what he’d done last night? Taylor and Reese had been clearing off the table after dinner when Curt rang the doorbell, a well-used lacrosse stick in one hand and a pink one still in its packaging in the other. He’d then spent the next hour in the backyard, giving Reese a lesson.

“He might.” Everything pointed toward Mary being correct. However, it took more than a couple weeks and a few meals to really know someone.

“Maybe the two of you can come out with Aaron and me some night.”

“Aaron? I thought you were dating someone named Randy.”

Mary waved her hand. “Stopped seeing Randy two months ago. The jerk was married. Well, actually, separated… so that’s a little better. But he never bothered to tell me. We saw his wife while having dinner. She was out with some friends. Talk about a little awkward.”

The woman really did go through men quickly.

“Aaron and I have been together since last month. He’s a special agent with the FBI. We worked on a case together back in January and bumped into each other outside Faneuil Hall one afternoon. He asked me to dinner, and we’ve been together since.”

Taylor ran through the agents she knew in the Boston FBI office. She only knew of one Aaron. “Are you talking about Aaron Linz?” She’d done an arrest with the agent, and he’d come across as a nice man.

Mary nodded, but Taylor’s ringing cell phone prevented her from adding any more details. And Mary liked sharing details, no matter how personal and intimate. It was the biggest difference between them.

The name Curt on the screen sent a bolt of excitement through her. She didn’t hesitate to answer. “Hey, you.” He’d called her a few times, but never in the middle of a workday.

“Hey, yourself.” Curt’s voice washed over her, and suddenly the cubicle became too warm.

Taylor considered using the file folder as a fan, but decided against it with Mary sitting next to her. “Is everything okay?” He wouldn’t call to simply chat in the middle of the afternoon. There had to be a reason. Had something happened at home and Mom was unable to call?

“Fine. But it’d be even better if you were with me.”

The guy was good. No question about it.

“I’m on Newbury Street right now. Are you available for lunch or coffee?” Curt asked.

She’d planned to eat the lunch she’d packed at her desk, like she did most days. She found it saved money, because eating out every day in downtown Boston quickly added up, no matter how frugal you were with your choices.

“Sure. Just tell me when and where and I’ll meet you.”

Next to her Mary checked her e-mails, but it was obvious she listened in on Taylor’s half of the conversation.

“How about we meet in twenty minutes at Faneuil Hall, near the statue of Samuel Adams.”

Twenty minutes gave her enough time to answer whatever questions Mary had rolling around in her head and walk over to the marketplace. “Sounds good. See you then.”

The questions started as soon as she put the cell phone down.

***

Located behind Faneuil Hall on Congress Street, the large bronze statue of Samuel Adams, one of America’s founding fathers, was a favorite photo spot for visitors to Boston. Today was no different. Despite the crowd around the area, she spotted Curt right away. Although dressed like many of the people around him, he stood out in the crowd. Something other than his looks drew your attention his way. She’d noticed it before, but still couldn’t put her finger on what it was about him.

Taylor let her gaze linger. The jeans and navy-blue polo shirt did nothing to hide the body she knew they covered. The glances other women in the vicinity sent his way as they passed told her she wasn’t the only one to think so. The dark sunglasses made it impossible to see Curt’s eyes, but she got the impression he paid no attention to the women passing by him. Even when a woman with a body and face worthy of a magazine cover walked by and smiled, he remained expressionless.

Until he spotted her.

His smile encompassed his entire face, and again she wished she could fan herself.

Good thing he’s not smiling at any of the women around him, she thought. If he did, they’d never leave him alone. He’d almost reached her when she realized she hadn’t taken a step since she first stopped. Get moving.

“Great timing.” He greeted her with a hug and kiss, earning her some looks of envy from the females nearby. “How much time do you have?”

Unlike her first part-time job while in high school, she didn’t get a set amount of time for a lunch break. “I can’t take all day, but I don’t need to rush back either.”

“How does a picnic sound? We can grab something here and take it over to the Common.”

“I like your plan.”

Faneuil Hall Marketplace offered every type of food imaginable. Sometimes Taylor thought it had too much to pick from because, when she did come over, she found it hard to decide. Rather than waste time today and linger over the various menus, she followed Curt’s lead and ordered a roasted vegetable flatbread and a piece of Greek baklava at the Mediterranean deli. As she expected, he refused to let her pay for her lunch. Instead, he promised she could get it next time. With so many people around them she didn’t argue, but later she planned on saying something. This was the second time he’d given her the same line.

The oldest park in the United States, the Boston Common attracted Boston residents as well as out of town visitors. The fifty-acre park was an oasis of open space, green grass, and trees nestled in the bustling city. Today, people from all backgrounds occupied the Common and enjoyed the beautiful spring day.

They walked until Curt found them a fairly secluded bench in the shade. Away from any large groups and onlookers, he put the bag containing their lunch on the bench and wrapped his arms around her. His mouth came down hard on hers while his fingers spread across her back. Heat seeped through her blouse and warmed her skin.

“I dreamed about you last night.” He moved his lips away from her mouth and near her ear. Curt’s fingers moved up her spine, each touch setting off a thousand fireworks in her body.

“A good dream, I hope.”

“Good, but it would’ve been better if it’d been real.” His fingers hit the edge of her bra and started the trip back down toward her waist.

“And what were we doing?”

Curt brushed a kiss against the pulse in her neck, the tiny action causing it to accelerate. “What do you think?” When he reached her waist, he didn’t stop. Instead, his hands slid over her ass as he kissed her neck again.

Taylor pulled herself out of the sensual haze clouding her head. It was either that or suggest they find a hotel room for an hour or so. “Playing soccer in my backyard? That’s what we were doing in the dream I had about you.” Laughter was a good remedy for many aliments, including sexual arousal when you couldn’t do anything about it.

The comment earned her a light swat on ass. “Not even close,” he grumbled. “Should I tell you?”

Reaching for his sunglasses, she pushed them up onto his head so she could see his eyes. “Maybe you can show me later. I suspect it’ll be much more fun than hearing about it.”

“You’re right.” He let her go so they could both sit down. Then he started unpacking their lunch. He started to hand over her sandwich, but stopped. “Did you really dream we were playing soccer?”

Taylor took the sandwich from his hand. “Don’t worry, we were alone… and you were naked.” She wiggled her eyebrows and smiled.

“It’d be more fun if we both were naked.”

She agreed but kept silent. A few hours of the workday remained, so this was not the time to be hot and bothered.

Curt plucked the sunglasses off his head and slipped them back into place. Having them on protected his eyes and identity. She’d seen him a few times without glasses. During those times, she’d never shown any indication she recognized him as Curt Sherbrooke. However, all those times had occurred in his bed. If she was concentrating only on his eyes and face when they made love, he was doing something very wrong.

“Not that I’m not glad to see you, but what are doing in Boston today?” Taylor pulled her hair back in a loose ponytail before she unwrapped her flatbread.

“I stopped at King Lighting in Watertown. Since I was in the general area I went over to Newbury Street, looking for a Mother’s Day present.”

He’d already visited several stores in New Hampshire but hadn’t found any light fixtures for the kitchen. In the past he’d had success at King Lighting, so he made the trip south, and took advantage of the opportunity to shop, and stop at his place in Boston to pick up some items he wanted. He left the final stop of his day off his itinerary. Telling Taylor he kept a condo in Boston would bring up other questions. Answers to those questions might leave Taylor wondering things about him he didn’t want her wondering today.

“Any luck?” Taylor asked, taking a bite of her lunch and swallowing.

“Yes, on both counts.”

“I have no idea what to get Mom this year. She’s never been the easiest person to shop for.” She raised her sandwich toward her mouth, but stopped short of biting into it again.

If Taylor thought Priscilla was hard, she should meet his mother. When the woman wanted something, she went out and bought it. And forget about there being anything she needed. That scenario did not exist. Ever.

“Last year I got her a gift certificate for a day at a spa. One of those special packages that includes a facial, manicure, and a pedicure. She almost never pampers herself. She loved it, but I don’t want to do the same thing again.”

He didn’t have Mom’s weekly schedule, but he was confident she got all three of those things on a regular basis.

“What did you get? Maybe it’ll give me a new idea.”

Please don’t ask to see it. One look at it would send Taylor’s mind in a direction he didn’t need it going. “Jewelry.” His mother had no need for more, but when he saw the one-of-a-kind diamond-and-emerald necklace, he’d known his mom would love it. Emeralds were her favorite gemstone.

Taylor played with the sandwich wrapper. “Yeah, that’s out. I got Mom a bracelet for her birthday in February. And for Christmas I got her a new purse, so that’s not an option either.” She sighed as she wrapped the untouched half of her sandwich and put it back inside the plastic bag. Then she went for the baklava she’d ordered. “Maybe I’ll take Reese shopping this weekend after her soccer game. It’ll be just the two of us. Mom can’t come—she’s got plans with a friend. She loves gardening; we might find something at the Green Caterpillar. It’s a gardening store in Nashua. And Nashua isn’t very far away.”

“Other than Reese’s soccer game, do you have any plans this weekend?”

Her head tipped back, and she looked at the sky. “I told Mom I’d cut the lawn. We usually take turns doing it, but her knee has been bothering her again. If I don’t do it soon, Stripes will get lost every time he goes out.”

He’d offer to do it, but he’d never touched a lawn mower in his life.

“Reese’s game isn’t until noon on Saturday and it’s in town, so I’m hoping to get the lawn done in the morning before we go.”

“Want some company at the game?”

“You want to come and watch a bunch of seven-year-olds play soccer?”

Right now he wasn’t sure who was more surprised by his question: her or him. He’d asked about her weekend plans because he wanted to get her alone again, not because he had a dying need to see a children’s soccer game. But he knew a mother/daughter bond existed between Taylor and her niece. He’d never ask Taylor to skip events with Reese to be with him instead.

Curt shrugged. “Why not?” Because you’re getting yourself in deeper and deeper each time you interact with Taylor and her family. And the deeper he got, the shittier he felt, because they didn’t know who he really was. “Maybe I’ll learn a thing or two watching them.”

“Okay, but don’t complain or ask me to rub it when your butt hurts from sitting on the metal bleachers all afternoon.”

“What if I return the favor? I’m very good at giving massages.” Curt set aside his sandwich, and angled her body so he could rub her shoulders. While his fingers kneaded the knots there, he kissed the side of her neck. “Come by tonight and I’ll give you a more thorough demonstration.” He moved his hands lower and massaged the area between her shoulder blades. “Of course, you could repay the favor if you were so inclined.”

She groaned when he started working out a large knot. “I can’t tonight. Can I get a rain check?”

Her request brought to mind another conversation. “Did Reese ever learn why we call it a rain check?”

“Huh?” She glanced over her shoulder.

Curt continued the massage while he explained his conversation with Reese.

“She never asked me about it. Maybe Mom found her an answer.”

The girl seemed like the type who’d seek out an answer whenever something she didn’t understand or know crossed her path. “I’ll ask her.” He kissed her neck again. “You can collect your rain check whenever you want,” he said.

***

A little more than an hour later, Curt escorted Taylor back and made a hasty retreat from the city. Rush hour traffic out of Boston didn’t start at five like many people thought. No, around here the highways became a parking lot starting at three thirty, and he had no desire to be stuck sitting there.

Because he intended to pick stuff up from his condo, he’d left his motorcycle in the garage and driven his SUV into the city this morning. The weather, though, called for either the bike or the new Aston Martin convertible sitting in Newport. He’d only driven the car twice since purchasing it. He needed to rectify that soon. While the SUV got him where he needed to go, it lacked style and personality. But it blends in well, he reminded himself. Every other household in Pelham either owned a SUV, minivan, or a pickup. He’d seen plenty of BMWs and Mercedes in town, as well as a few Porsches. Still, if he showed up at the grocery store on Route 38 in either his Aston Martin or the McLaren, people would notice. Once they noticed, somehow word would get back to Taylor and her family. Information such as that needed to come from him, not some third party. Assuming she needed the information at all. At the moment, he wasn’t sure she did.

“Keep offering to attend her niece’s soccer games and you’ll need to share.” He never should’ve opened his damn mouth. He would’ve survived until Sunday without any female companionship. Getting involved with a woman hadn’t even been part of his plan when he moved.

“You came here to finish the book and renovate a house.” A house he planned on selling when complete, so he could move on to another project. One located in New England, or just about anywhere else in the country. Oddly, the longer he lived in the house and the town, the less appealing the thought of selling it became.