Possession (5 page)

The next morning Vincent knocked on Tina's bedroom door. He'd cooked breakfast—mushroom, tomato, and cheese omelets, toast, and sausage. The smell of fresh coffee permeated the apartment. Getting no answer, he tapped again, listening through the door for signs of life.

“Hello?” she called out, sounding sleepy and adorably pathetic.

He laughed to himself and opened the door. Heavy drapes kept any sunlight out and the extra-cold air conditioning made it feel like she slept in a cave.

Light from the hallway flooded the space. “Time to wake up.”

“It's only seven. I sleep in on Sundays.” She covered her face with a pillow.

Reaching the bedside, he yanked it from her hands. “Early bird gets the worm.”

“Leave it to you to make bird references.”

He sat on the edge of the mattress. “Ever have breakfast in bed?” Maybe food would get her up.

She rested the back of her hand on her forehead and stared up at him. “Mom used to serve me pancakes in bed every Sunday.”

“What about coffee and omelets?”

“You raided my fridge?”

“Absolutely. I'm a three-square-meals-a-day type of man. By the way, I took the liberty of throwing out your expired yogurt and half-and-half—total science projects.”

She smirked. “I don't spend a lot of time in the kitchen.”

“Obviously.”

Her stomach growled. “Coffee sounds good.”

He arched a brow, doubting she could resist the maple-flavored sausage. “That's it?”

“All right.” She yanked the covers halfway down and sat up. “Maybe some eggs.”

Vincent eyed the tight, pink T-shirt she wore, which showcased her pert breasts too well. He swallowed, forcing his gaze elsewhere. “Meet me in the dining room.” He stood suddenly, remembering her comment about staying away from horizontal surfaces together. Yeah, he wanted to fuck her.

“Running away again?” Tina rolled out of bed, her bottom half covered by only a pair of pink bikini shorts.

He sighed, unable to resist another lingering look. Long legs, shapely thighs that could probably squeeze the air out of his lungs. And those perfect tiny feet, a part of her body he hadn't missed the other night when he removed her shoes in the clubhouse. “Walking and running are different, Tina.”

“Yeah?” She put a hand on her hip. “I appreciate everything you told me before, but it still doesn't fully explain why we can't just follow our instincts. Don't you ever have sex?”

“Just going to keep challenging me until I give in? Is that the plan, pretty girl?” He stepped closer, able to hear her inhale her next breath. “Do you know how many girls have stripped in front of me?”

Her lips thinned with disapproval. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”

“Not exactly. Just wanted to make it clear I have thick skin. You're beautiful, Tina—incredibly so. But the last time I let my little head do the thinking, it ended badly.”

“That's just it,” she said, caressing his arm. “I'm not trying to force you into a relationship. Friends with benefits.”

He shook his head. “How about friends?” He extended his hand.

Silence followed, but he didn't back down. Having Tina in his life on a more permanent basis appealed to him. Why wouldn't it? She made him smile almost as much as his kids did. And that incorrigible personality, it kept him on his toes. Most girls went along with everything he said. This one challenged him at every turn, actually had a zest for life he hadn't seen in a long time. But it was more than that. Underneath her confidence, he sensed a tenderness and vulnerability that attracted him more than her perfect face and body. She had heart.

“Okay, Vincent, friends.” She shook his hand. “Lead the way to the table.”

Seated together for breakfast for the second time in two days, he buttered a piece of toast for her, then spooned some eggs and two sausage patties onto her plate. “Eat,” he commanded.

She took several bites before she sipped her coffee. “Guess I'm hungry.”

“Wouldn't hurt for you to gain a couple pounds.”

Tina blinked before she answered. “Not the ‘friends with benefits' thing I envisioned.”

“What?”

“Criticizing my weight already.”

“Didn't mean it like that,” he tried to clarify. “More like you can afford to stuff yourself without feeling guilty. Indulge a little.”

“Funny,” she said. “That's the same advice I've been begging you to take.”

Oh, that mouth.
Vincent gulped the last of his java. “On a more serious note, let's discuss some safety options.”

“Again?”

“Ten times, if that's what it takes.”

“I'm sure once I confront Kline in my office he'll back off. I thought about it after I went to bed last night. He's a rich, lonely prick. That's all.”

“Do you really believe that?” Vincent blew out a frustrated breath. Didn't she know how serious the situation was? “Normal is calling you a couple times, begging for dates. Maybe leaving a note on your windshield. Not vandalizing your car and leaving X-rated messages on your phone.”

“Oh God.” She wiped her mouth on a napkin, then set it aside. “Let me guess—you didn't just raid the fridge, you listened to his crazy calls?”

“The ones I could stomach.”

“I didn't ask you to take control of my life, Vincent. I'm a victim of circumstances, not a damsel in distress that can't handle my own shit.”

He folded his hands on the table. “If that's true, why'd you show up at the bar?”

She paled at the question. “Unfair.”

“Answer me.”

“My friends are out of town.”

“That's the only excuse you can come up with? A popular girl like you only has a few friends? I don't believe it.” He knew better. Months ago when they hung out, everyone seemed to know her.

“Hitting below the belt, aren't you?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I don't approve.” She frowned.

“Too bad. Someone needs to make you think hard about what you're going to do next.”

“Okay, daddy dearest.” She crossed her arms over her chest, definitely in defensive mode. “Maybe I have a problem communicating with women outside of work. Most of my friends are guys. I didn't feel comfortable showing up at their places late at night.”

“You mean men you've fucked,
not
friends.”

“Screw you, Ramos.”

“I want you angry, Tina. Not at me, but Kline. If it takes ruffling a few feathers to get you on track, so be it.”

“Can you stop talking birds?” A slow smile crept over her face. “I get it now. You think I'm too complacent. I prefer using finesse in situations like this. I'm fairly new at work, still establishing my clientele. If I file a complaint internally against Kline, it may come back to haunt me later when I'm up for promotion.”

“Why? Did you encourage him in any way?”

“God no.”

“Then I fail to see the problem.”

“Corporate culture. Blame still falls on my shoulders for not being able to manage my client. Did I mention he's wealthy? So the potential for future business is high. Stop overthinking things—I'll take care of it.”

Her voice was tinged with worry; Vincent knew the sound well. “I expect to be updated regularly. Phone calls before bed, too.”

She nodded in agreement.

“Good.” He got up and cleared the table. “I have business today; I need to leave now.”

She stood and checked him out head to toe. “I never knew how protective you could be. I regret not reconnecting with you sooner.”

“Shit happens for a reason.” He opened up his arms. “Give me a hug goodbye.”

She hobbled over, free of the crutches. “It just hit me: I'm walking again.”

“Okay, gimpy.” He lifted her and squeezed, her feet dangling above the floor. “I'll call later.”

Tina watched him walk down the breezeway through her window, her gaze never leaving his perfect ass. Even after he disappeared from sight, she lingered for a few seconds, wondering how she'd gotten so lucky.
A chain reaction,
she assured herself. Although Kline had victimized her, he was also the reason Vincent had gotten involved. Should she thank Kline or castrate him? Shaking her head, she returned to the kitchen for another cup of coffee.

Vincent had cooked breakfast and apparently cleaned her kitchen, too. Not that she didn't keep an organized house; she just didn't stress if a few things got out of place. The breakfast dishes were rinsed and stacked neatly in the right-side sink, and the plates and cups from the last few nights were in the dishwasher. She opened the fridge. The crisper drawers and shelves had been wiped down and her food reorganized. Even the freezer…Vegetables and meat were separated in the first basket, and miscellaneous items organized in the second.

Bird-watching, OCD-ridden treasurer for the Sons of Odin MC couldn't stand chaos of any kind, including her loose commitment to control her aggressive client. He should give her a little credit for being resourceful enough to deal with her own problems. But men like Vincent naturally seized control.

The glass ceiling in the legal professions had been breached a long time ago, but men still dominated the field Even at her firm, the boys couldn't resist interfering with her cases. One of her favorite television shows,
Mad Men,
characterized that sexist mentality perfectly. Although understated in her office, that sexist tradition carried over into her professional life. She'd have to prove herself to move up the corporate ladder. And she'd be damned if Kline Barnes would intimidate her.

After starting the dishwasher, she headed for the shower. It promised to be another beautiful day outside; why waste the sunshine? And with her ankle feeling ten times better, she wanted to get mobile again.

When she was done, she dried off and selected one of her favorite outfits, a Saunton wrap-front black jumpsuit and tennis shoes. Always after clothes that accentuated her long legs, this one-piece showcased everything in an understated way. Perfect for a walk on the beach. She scrunched her damp curls with hair gel, then applied some bronzer and mascara. Not remembering the last time she'd gone for a nature walk this early in the morning, when she opened her front door, the cool breeze energized her better than a can of Red Bull.

She locked the door, then slipped her arms through the straps of her backpack/purse combo. A woman should never leave home without the essentials, including bottled water, cellphone, and a travel-sized canister of mace. She was certified in self-defense, and her annual class included a refresher on how to use pepper spray.

Oso Bay was visible across the landscaped lawn of her apartment complex. Palm trees and flower beds surrounded the open green space where families that lived in the community often picnicked or lounged. Tina followed the narrow footpath, walking slowly, careful not to misstep. She reached the sandy beach finally, pleased to be alone. Normal people were just getting up.

The wind whipped her loose hair, and she inhaled the salt air, loving the sound of the waves tumbling against the rocks and rebar that littered the shoreline. A testament to the kind of man-made materials that washed up after a hurricane or tropical storm. The city cleaned up the trash, but the rebar acted as a buffer between the coastline and water. It also provided habitat for a number of small creatures.

Like she used to do as a child, Tina picked through driftwood and large rocks, seeking out unique seashells and sand dollars. Every time she found one of interest, she tucked it in the front pocket of her purse. One of her fondest memories of her father was collecting rocks with him and taking them back to his workshop where they'd spend hours playing with his rock tumbler, buffing and shining up their favorite specimens. She had a special shelf in her current bedroom dedicated to treasures she found.

As she made her way to the end of the private beach, her cell chimed.

“Hello?”

“Greetings from Paris again.”

“Lily!”

“I miss home.”

“As in Texas?”

“Yes, if you can believe it.” Lily laughed. “Guess I'm a damn Yankee—destined to stay in the South.”

Tina perched on top of a flat rock, staring across the water while she talked. “I can't wait for you to get home.”

“Feeling a little lost without me?” Lily teased. “Should I be worried? You sound down.”

“No,” Tina assured her. “Just a little shaken up.”

“What happened?”

Tina explained about Kline.

“What a bastard,” Lily said angrily. “Good thing Lang wasn't around. Pretty sure you need to file a complaint with the police or his probation officer.”

Tina sighed. “It's not that simple. But let's not focus on Kline. Can you believe I spent the last two days with
the
Vincent?”

“I'm amazed at the turn of events. Lang and I both want our best friends to be happy. If that means you two find joy together, all the better.”

“He's commitment phobic.”

“I know,” Lily said. “Vincent has shitty luck with women.”

Tina ran her fingers through her hair. “I'd love to slap his ex-wife. Every legal no-no I can think of is attached to his custody agreement. Did you know about it?”

“Yes,” Lily said in a softer voice. “But Lang swore me to secrecy. Vincent is very private about his personal life. And you went separate ways after the wedding.”

“I understand.” Tina regretted letting her friendship with Vincent fade. But it didn't matter anymore. They had reconnected now. “Honestly, I can handle the no-relationship thing. But sex—the guy simply refuses to give in. I bet I could hike a football naked in front of him and he'd look away.”

Lily chuckled. “Thanks for the visual. But if you're really in the mood to try it, he's a hard-core New Orleans fan. Maybe you could wear a team helmet or something.”

“That's not a bad idea, forcing him to take one for the team.”

“Pretty sure that's not the proper meaning.”

“Desperate measures. When are you coming home?”

“November tenth.”

“Need a ride from the airport?”

“Lang arranged for a limo to pick us up. We have so much luggage it might take two trips.”

“Did you find that little vintage boutique I told you about?”

“Oh. My. God. Iglaïne is everything you promised. Thank you. If you're a good girl, you just might get a package in the mail with a classic Chanel suit.”

“What?” Tina exclaimed.

“I couldn't resist the sky-blue color and Austrian crystal buttons. It just screamed Tina.”

“But you're a penny-pincher.”

“Not in Paris.” Seagulls screeched overhead. “Where are you?” Lily asked.

“Sitting on a rock at Oso Bay.”

“By the apartments?”

“Yep.” Tina smiled. “Vincent woke me up early, cooked breakfast, then left.”

“Wow. I remember cringing if I had to call you before nine on the weekend. What's he got that I don't?”

“Really want me to rattle off the list?”

“Please no. Well, the girls are ridiculously rambunctious from a total sugar high. And I'm in need of a hot bath and sleep. Check Facebook tomorrow—I'll post pics from our motorcycle adventure. Love you, girl.”

“Ditto.”

As soon as she disconnected, her phone chimed again. “Mom.”

“Hello, Tina.”

They hadn't spoken in a week. “Are you having a pleasant weekend?”

“Wonderful, actually—Dad took us to Chicago for a show and dinner.”

“How's Dustin?” Their latest foster kid had anger control issues, but seemed dedicated to making his new home permanent. He'd been placed with her parents a year ago.

“That's why I called, honey.”

Tina shifted, settling in for what she foresaw as a lengthy conversation. “Did something happen?”

“Nothing bad. After months of wrestling with a decision, we've decided to adopt Dustin.”

“Really?” Tina didn't know what to say. It shocked and pleased her at the same time. Healthy and fairly young, her mom and dad didn't hide their joy when she left for college. They immediately remodeled the house and started traveling more frequently. “What's changed?”

“Us,” she answered without hesitation. “With all the blessings in our lives, we decided to give back. Dustin is an exceptional kid, Tina. Smart and comical. And completely determined to win over his big sister.”

Tina wiped a tear from her eye. Perhaps her parents were suffering from a delayed form of empty-nest syndrome. Or maybe they'd fallen in love with Dustin. Regardless of the reasons, she approved completely. “I'm so happy. Are there any legal obstacles?”

“None. We sign the final adoption papers next week. I'm sorry we didn't discuss it with you sooner—we just wanted to be sure everything went through first. Now that it has, we've planned a getaway to celebrate.”

“Europe? California?”

“No. Padre Island.”

She hadn't seen her family since last Christmas. “I could use a mom hug right now.”

Her mother laughed. “I'm thrilled to hear it. Do you think you could check on the condo and maybe do some grocery shopping before the twentieth? Plan on having Thanksgiving dinner together.”

“Absolutely,” Tina said. “I can't wait to see you guys.”

Her mother blew kisses over the phone, then disconnected.
Could today get any better?
If it did, Tina might have to pinch herself.