She was about to refuse when his cell phone rang.
With a muttered, “Just a second,” Ike picked it off the nightstand, checked the caller ID window, then frowned and turned away. “Hi Brandy, how’s it going?”
Lindsay heard Brandy Maitlin’s loud, laughing reply over the low drone of the all-news channel and was instantly on edge. “It’s going, but it’s not going as smoothly without my number-one hunter. I need you, gorgeous.”
With a furtive glance at Lindsay, Ike inched his thumb up to a side key on his phone, then lowered the volume and ambled a few steps away before he continued. “Sorry, I’m not available right now. With everything else I’m juggling, I don’t have time.”
He listened for a while, then grinned and returned in an amused voice, “Nope, no matter how much sugar’s on the table. I’m up to my ears in skips and legwork for Larry, and I just picked up another project. Give Tank a call.”
A sudden rush of jealousy clicked in, and Lindsay walked to him, took the carafe from his hand, then stepped into his bathroom to fill it from the sink. Their past rose up to greet her again as she turned on the tap.
She hadn’t been around Brandy often, but during their flash-fire courtship and six-month marriage, she’d had several opportunities to see Brandy in action around Ike. The woman wanted him, and she wanted him badly. But there’d been no jealousy in Lindsay then because she’d known Ike loved her. She’d also known that Ike never saw Brandy as anything but the head of Maitlin Bail Bonds. At least, not then, she thought, feeling a pinch again. But eighteen months was a long time for a man like Ike to be without a woman…and beautiful Brandy with the dark, flashing eyes had teased that she “needed her gorgeous hunter.” Take away the playful tone and the words still worked.
Suddenly Lindsay was remembering the two months of arguments and accusations that had preceded their divorce…and wondering if Brandy had been there to soothe Ike’s anger and frustration.
Lindsay yanked herself back to the present as the water in the glass pot gushed over the sides and into the sink. Quickly, she turned off the spigot and poured out some of the water, then grabbed a clean hand towel from the rack to dry the carafe.
When she turned around, Ike was standing in the doorway.
Feeling a flush creep into her cheeks, she walked forward, forcing him to get out of her way. She dumped the packet of coffee he’d set aside into the coffeemaker, added water to the reservoir, then clicked on the unit and faced him.
“What did Brandy want?” Surprisingly, she didn’t feel a bit uncomfortable asking the question.
“She needed someone to go after a skip. I told her to call someone else—that I need time for another project.”
“Did you tell her what the project is?”
“Not yet.”
“But you will?”
“Probably. There are no secrets between us.”
“Are you sleeping with her?”
That brought the conversational volley to an abrupt halt. Beneath her calm tone and delivery, Lindsay’s stomach shook. As for Ike, she couldn’t read what was going on inside his head.
“And if I am?” he asked after a moment.
“If you are,” she said lifting her chin, “more power to you. She’s beautiful, and you’re both in the same business. I’m sure you never run out of fascinating things to talk about.”
A flash of annoyance tumbled through his gaze and his voice hardened. “Know what? Maybe we should have our coffee next door at the café. Millie’s open until eleven tonight. Summer hours.”
Lindsay shook her head. She didn’t need coffee. The images her mind was supplying were already burning a hole in her stomach. Images of Ike and his needy lady boss engaged in less-than-businesslike activities.
“No thanks,” she answered crisply, moving toward the door. “I’ve said what I came to say.”
“Some things never change, do they?” he challenged. “Whenever things get a little sticky between us, you run the other way. God forbid you should hang around and talk things out. Somewhere, your mother’s applauding.”
She turned around swiftly. “You know, I wondered how long it would be before you started in on her again.” She grabbed the doorknob. “I’m leaving.”
“Go ahead, you’re good at it.”
That stopped her dead. Eyes filling with tears, Lindsay faced him again. He’d gone too far. His troubled expression told her that he knew it, too.
“Look…” he said through a sigh. “Let’s just go over to the café and talk—get a piece of Millie’s coconut cream pie to go with the coffee.”
But coffee and dessert wouldn’t change anything. There was too much baggage and too many harsh words between them. They’d only end up arguing there, too, and Millie’s customers didn’t need a floor show. Halfway through their pie, Ike would remind her that she’d initiated divorce proceedings, she’d remind him that he’d said the D word first, and they would end up not speaking. That couldn’t happen. They had to work together now, for all of their sakes. “I can’t, Ike.”
“Why not?”
For some perverse reason, she wanted him to know that another man valued her. Maybe because he’d hinted that he and Brandy had a relationship, then left her twisting in the wind without confirming or denying it. But again, she couldn’t imagine him staying celibate for long, even though she had. When they were together, they’d been wild in bed. Wild and wonderful and happy and loving and…
“Because tongues wag at the slightest hint of impropriety in this town,” she replied before the memories could get to her again. “And I’m seeing someone now.”
He didn’t say a word, and she went on. “John’s the new owner of the bookstore—and whether it’s ten in the morning or ten at night, the rumor mills grind away. I don’t see any reason to make him uneasy.”
“Whatever.”
It wasn’t what she expected, and his cavalier reply hit hard.
Then he poured himself a cup of coffee, replaced the carafe and met her eyes again. “So do you want a cup here in Hernando’s Hideaway where no one can see you, or are you really taking off?”
She swallowed. “No, I need to go home and get some sleep. I work the early shift tomorrow.”
“Fine. Let me know what your mother says.”
“I will.”
Lindsay stepped into the cool night, relieved to get out of there, glad for the air on her face. Several doors down, a chattering family carried bags and suitcases into a room where the porch light was shining. A brand-new bunch of moths had homed in on it and were now fluttering helplessly, lured by the pretty glow, and powerless to move away.
She knew exactly how they felt.
“Good night, Ike.”
“’Night. Be careful walking home.”
“This is Spindrift,” she replied soberly. “Nothing bad ever happens around here.”
Lindsay heard the door close behind her. Then she crossed the parking lot and headed for the steep, shadowy walk leading toward the road, Ike’s casual “Whatever” hurting all over again.
So much for letting him know that she was moving on with her life. He hadn’t given a damn that she was seeing John Fielding.
He’d wanted to touch her, Ike thought twenty minutes later, grinding his molars as he let himself back inside his motel room. There, he’d admitted