Designer Genes - The Boyfriend Cut (42 page)

He grinned mischievously. "One more thing, Miss Davis."

"Yes, Mr. Peterson?" I asked, welcoming the playful tone in his voice.

He kissed me hard then pulled away enough for me to catch the wink—before the
splash.

24

THE SCAVENGER HUNT

T
he pilot announced our descent and excitement consumed me. In a few short hours, I'd finally be wrapped in Jordan's arms. Italy would officially become the past, the bittersweet memories locked away forever.

I had to check through The Program's database, proving I'd returned to the United States. Because "impulse" seemed to the mode I functioned in lately, I changed my flight in Rome and landed at Miami International, not JFK in New York. I needed to let Rick know before law enforcement became involved.

When I passed through the security door after scanning my pink band, I found a private waiting room. A telecom machine sat in the corner and I paid for a ten minute rental of a communication device. I didn't dare use my "spy phone" for fear of alerting Jordan to my whereabouts and spoiling my plan.

"Hi Dad. Guess what? I'm back!"

"Mars? Why are you home a week early and calling me from
Miami
International?" Even on the small video screen I saw his brows linked with suspicion.

"Long or short version?"

"I'm sure the long version would answer several questions, but since this call is probably monitored, I've no choice but a condensed version."

Hmm. Something I hadn't considered.

"Doug figured out your call had something to do with Jordan. I couldn't lie to him and after we talked, probably for the last time, he offered to send me home."

Dad inhaled several deep breaths, his eyes hooded beneath the familiar furrowed brow I'd seen a lot lately. His gaze finally lifted, but the deep-seated concern in his expression alarmed me. "Mars, are you serious enough about Jordan to cut every other possibility out of your life? Pumpkin, you're barely eighteen."

"Daddy…I think I really love Jordan. That's why I flew to Florida. I want to surprise him at the beach house."

He scrubbed the thinning hair on his head hard enough to create a bald spot. "Mars, I'm not ready for this change in your life. Damn Program."

"The government doesn't control my heart. Falling in love is part of growing up, you said so yourself. Please say you understand?"

A moment of silence preceded the sound of surrender. "Just promise me, Mars, you won't do anything rash before I see you again—like elope."

"No way!
I'm
not ready for that kind of permanent." My candidate number paged. "Dad, I have to go. I'll call you later. By the way, give Karen my best. We'll talk about
your
love life when I get home." I smacked a loud kiss in the receiver and rushed to get my final clearance so I could begin the next journey.

Once settled into my hotel room, I recalled my cyber account and checked for missed calls to my personal receptor. I'd asked Jordan to grab it from my nightstand in Ohio, but only because I knew it was password locked. Who knew what surprises lurked in my Inbox. Of course he could have his trusty I.T. man unscramble it, but
he
played on my team right now.

I loved the thrill of seeing all the missed calls from Jordan before we made up, reinforcing he did want me back. One new call flashed and my heart sank. Doug. Not wanting to, but feeling guilty for the way things ended, I punched in the hotel's security code and returned the call. He answered on the second ring, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Hi," I said, nervous and suddenly doing the math on time zones in my head.

"Marli? Good, you're home safe." I knew the ID showed Ohio and video reception didn't work internationally on my private receptor, so he'd never be the wiser.

"How did things go after I left?"

His huffed a caustic laugh. "My father is furious with me; Marah won't speak to me; Doogie keeps asking for you, which results in dagger eyes from both Andrea and Brandt. Gramps cursed me in Italian and I think Grammy spit in my spaghetti tonight. My mother's the only one who's consoled me and even her expression shows discontent. You are completely blameless in their eyes."

"Doug, they need to know this wasn't your fault."

"You don't understand, Marli. I can handle their disappointment, but I don't want their memory of you tainted. Besides 'Daddy Dear' deserved justice served up to him for a change. I'll pass on your message when we return to the states."

"Doug, I'm sorry how things went down."

"You can't help who you love, Marli. I wish The Program had placed you with me first so I'd at least have had a fighting chance at winning your heart."

I lifted the swimsuit top from the pile of folded laundry on the bed. The strings that so easily slipped apart in Doug's fingers dangled from my own, reminding me how close I came to crossing a dangerous line. I dropped the swimsuit top as if it burned my flesh.

"No more guilt trips, Doug. I'm struggling to find balance in my life and as much as you wish you could be the one to create it, you're not."

A thought struck me like a lightning bolt. Doug became suspicious when I asked him to write down the number "4233" and request an interview. After begging for his trust one last time, he tentatively agreed and we said what I hoped to be our final goodbye. I prayed he followed through because "4233" was Brittany.

Wizard delighted at being my partner in crime with planning my surprise. He set my plan in motion by arranging a call to Jordan on a special frequency so he'd believe I remained in Italy. Apparently, Jordan also waged a bet with Mike that I'd come home early, which made my deceit more amusing by deflating his ego a tad in the process. Mike had fifty bucks riding on the bet.

The next morning I arrived at the Masons' private hangar at ten o'clock sharp as instructed. My favorite airplane was missing, but a certain white Porsche in the corner gave me a dizzy rush. Jordan would find my first surprise when he picked up his car.

Mike jogged across the hangar, jiggling a set of car keys. He looked to be a couple years older than Jordan and Jesse; built lean and shorter, his shiny hair the color of obsidian and cut to hang at a harsh angle across blackberry-hued eyes.

"This is so dangerous, girl. Jordan's going to flip out."

"Where's the fun if you can't flirt with danger once in a while?" Crap. I sounded like Jesse.

"So, did the call work?" he asked.

I almost had to run to keep up with him as he headed for the car. "Like a charm. Jordan thinks Doug's still in hot pursuit of my bones."

"Doug probably still is. Be careful, Marli. Petersons don't give up easily."

"Oh, I pretty much destroyed any chance of a future, trust me." We stopped in front of Jordan's Porsche and I immediately felt a zing of excitement. "I've got to ask. Can you make it snow in Miami, too? I mean you seem to be able to perform all this techno magic, surely a little thing like controlling the weather couldn't be that difficult."

Mike tossed me the keys, a wide smile pushing his cheeks. "I'm only god of my computer, not the universe. Wouldn't want that job."

Two beeps and the security system disengaged. I laid my blue plaid boxer shorts on the driver's seat with a note on top simply stating
Find Me.

Mike returned the keys to Jordan's locker while I waited in the infamous silver Mercedes. Something bleeped on the dash panel
Call from Jordan.
I stiffened watching the digital display scroll the three words four times before disappearing. The car wasn't running so I felt certain the call couldn't patch through, although my heart beat somewhere besides in my chest with the thought. When Mike slid behind the steering wheel, I told him about the attempted call. He quickly hit some button that disabled any the video feed in case Jordan called again, then shook his head.

"I'm sure glad Jordan will be arriving after I'm gone tonight because he's going to kill me for not telling him you're here."

I wiggled my brows and gave him a sly smile. "I'll do my best to help him forgive you."

"Girl, you're going to have to do better than a smile to save my ass."

Our next stop—the marina. Mike included the dock patrol supervisor in our plan and while they talked, I quickly boarded
Her Majesty
with my bag of tricks. Mike told me the security paperwork already filed with Border Patrol placed Jordan at the helm. I draped my powder blue camisole over the captain's chair, tucking Jordan's monogrammed handkerchief into the neck in such a way the corner with the embroidered
"
J
"
lapped over the edge. I left my second note
You're getting warmer.

Carefully, I descended the ladder on the back of the yacht into the suspended sport boat. On the driver's seat, I laid out clue Number 3—the top to my new black bikini, which I fastened through the safety belt so it wouldn't blow out to sea. The miniscule amount of shimmering fabric trimmed with silver metallic ribbons, guaranteed me sun exposure with minimal tan lines, not to mention a certain someone's complete attention. The third note I pinned to a strap read
You're getting hotter,
the double entendre purposely intended.

The butterflies in my stomach increased to epic proportions when we returned to the airport. Strapped to the pavement on the other side of the Mason's hangar sat a bright red and white helicopter.

Mike loaded my bags and walked the perimeter, making a preflight safety check and releasing the clamps from the rails. My dry throat burned. A familiar voice boomed from inside the hangar and he stalled in his enormous shadow when he spied me
.

"Marli? Holy shit! No wonder this is hush-hush."

"Moose? I thought you were in Chicago with the band."

He offered his hand to help me climb into the chopper. "I flew home after the concert last night. Singing isn't my strongest talent. I recorded the instrument track yesterday morning." He heaved himself into the seat in front of me and turned to give me a teasing grin. "Maybe the guys will stop going for each other's throat now that you've returned."