Truth and Humility (22 page)

The door opened, letting in the noise from the bar, and two women entered in the midst of heavy discussion.  Danny flushed and hiked up her jeans.

“He’s been looking at my tits all night.”

“Well, it’s no wonder the way you shove them in his face.”  The other two stall doors closed, locked.  “God, he’s so
hot
.  You know, I think he’s actually gotten bigger.”

“Oh, yeah.  Definitely.  He has a home gym, or at least that’s what he told me.  I tried to get an invite, but he said maybe some other time.  It’s better than ‘fuck off’ right?”

“Yeah, I guess.  Maybe next Tuesday he’ll be a little more accommodating.”

“Yeah!  I mean he can’t still be pining after his dead girlfriend, that shit has got to stop sometime.  Unless he’s getting it from someone else...”

Danny froze with her hands under the water, slowly turned to glare at the stall doors.  A pair of decorated high-heeled boots straddled the toilet.

“Nah.  He’s interested or else he wouldn’t have bought us drinks.  You know how guys are.  If he buys you a drink, he thinks he owns you for the night.”

Brett came to mind and Danny closed her eyes at the sudden epiphany.  Apparently, there was much to learn of bar etiquette.

“Maybe if I give him a nudge.  Let him know I’m willing.”

“He knows you’re willing, Kat.  Did you see that girl in the pink top, the one who’s hanging out with his group tonight?”

A sound of disgust.  “Not a chance.  Way too plain.  Maybe if she bought a pair, but definitely not his type.”

The toilet flushed and Danny turned off the faucet, shook off excess water.  When the stall opened, she was yanking out paper towels.  The knock of heels stopped just short of the vanity and Danny glanced over to meet a pair of startled gray eyes.

Yep.  Busted.

Very blasé, Danny’s look dipped down to the creamy white cleavage, then back up again.  She smiled, wiped her hands.  “Just so you know,” she said helpfully, “he likes it when you bite him right here.”  Her finger tapped her lower lip.  The towels went in the trash and she pulled on the door.  “Suck on it real hard.  Drives him wild.”

Her mood had shifted, Austin noticed.  It was as if he was suddenly invisible and he found himself wondering again about her questionable exit from the ladies room.  Kat and her friend had exited shortly after with a direct look that virtually stripped him bare-naked.  A threat
and
a promise, all rolled into one.  What the hell?

While the two women conspired at the bar...and yes, he knew they were conspiring...his attention was on Danny.  One knee drawn up, she was perfectly at ease, heavily involved in conversation, losing herself in the topic of climbing.  The guys paid rapt attention as she explained while using her hands as visual aids, certain differences in climbing techniques, hand grips and an apparently funny story about some trip to Yellowstone her brother had taken.  The topic still rankled, but Austin figured out quickly you couldn’t carry on a conversation with the woman without Derek coming up sometime or other.

“Whoa.  No wonder you’re so...fit,” the kid said, carefully choosing his words.  “I’ve seen dudes hanging off rock walls, they’re pretty ripped.”

“Ripped, but not big,” Danny said with a shrug.  “Climbers don’t want to bulk up too much, but they are beautiful to watch on the crag.  I always thought so, anyway.”

“I’d like to watch you on the crack sometime.”

“Enough,” Austin growled from the end of the table while Danny burst into laughter.  The kid was starting to stick in his craw.  “Why don’t you go order yourself an ice-water, kid, you’re done.”

Mac looked perplexed, eyes following the kid’s shamefaced retreat to the bar.  “What the hell is a crag?”

Reigning in her mirth, Danny explained, “A crag...not
crack
...is a cliff, or a rock face.”

“Sounds like a venereal disease.  Why don’t you just say cliff?”  Danny faced his stare-off with a humorous shake of her head.  “So, Boss tells me your brother’s an even better climber than you, but I gotta tell ya...I haven’t seen anybody move like you did up that tree.”

“Austin told you that?”  She noticed his eyes peek up and over her shoulder guiltily.  She didn’t know Austin had ever seen Derek climb.  “He’s right.  Not many of us are better than Derek.  His on-sight skills are off the charts.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Speak English, Danny reminded herself.  “Whenever we attempt a route for the first time, we like to let Derek go first.  He prefers to downclimb without beta of any kind.  Beta means terrain information.  So we all watch from the ground...for different reasons.”

“Such as?”

“Well, me and the guys prefer to gather beta, but the girls just like to watch his muscles.  Especially when he cuts feet...er, lets go with his feet to hang just by his hands on an overhang.  And heaven forbid if he should wear a shirt.”

Mac bobbed his head with an
of course.
“Women dig that shit, huh?”

“It’s annoying.  I totally get it, but not where Derek’s concerned.  I mean, ew.  But he’s had his picture taken more often than not and he just eats it up.”

“A real chick magnet?”

“Not that he tries to be, really.  He likes to free-solo,
which is to climb alone with no protective devices whatsoever.  To rely solely on strength, agility, technique.  He’s really good and his confidence is what is so cool to watch.  We have this friend, Baker, whose house rests on top of a neat little crag we call Bertha.  She’s not heinous by any means, but a big enough challenge.
  Anyway, Baker put up this big net for those of us who want to give free-solo a try.  Derek’s the only one who hasn’t fallen into it.”

“But you did?”

“Just the first time.  I’d love to say I’ll be better than him some day, but his reach is longer than mine.  It’s quite an advantage.”

It occurred to her then, that maybe she shouldn’t be giving out so much information.  She was too damned relaxed and it was too easy to lower her guard when a man who wished her brother bodily harm was probably eavesdropping.  A glance over her shoulder confirmed the opposite.  Austin was nowhere in sight.

Danny’s eyes began to droop.  Conversations melded together and soon carried on without her.  Something instinctive alerted her that her empty mug was about to topple off the table and she jerked awake in a panic to catch it.  The heavy glass smacked into an open palm just before impact.

“Thanks,” she muttered without a visual identification of its rescuer.

“Any time,” Austin said behind her and returned the mug, unharmed, to the table.  Once he sat down in Mac’s vacated seat, he noticed her stiffen instantly.  The desire to kiss the frown from her adorable brow yanked at his innards.

He’d been watching her from the bar again, feeling the need to distance himself from her conversation with Mac.  Who was he to put a damper on their fun?  While he was there, he learned of a bit of advice Dannyf aday, but h had given Kat and her friend in the bathroom.   And he’d be damned if the big-breasted woman didn’t try it.  He’d reared back before her teeth could sink in to his bottom lip.  Practically had to hold her off with a hose.

That was something he’d have to take up with Danny later.  Was it jealousy that made her pull such an ornery stunt?  It would be nice...  His eyes moved over her as he watched her fight sleep beside him.  She was dressed in girl clothes again, looking quite irresistible in a snug pink blouse, skinny jeans and dangly silver earrings.  A light layer of make-up covered her bruises nicely, but she hadn’t packed it on like most women, didn’t need to.  She was comfortable and incredibly feminine.  The effortless ease in which she transformed from one alter ego to the other captivated him like no other woman ever had.

“I take it you’re still mad at me,” he observed with deference.

Her hand propped her chin up and she shrugged noncommittally.  “Honestly, Cahill, I don’t know how I feel about you.”

After chewing it over for a moment he stood up again and nudged her shoulder.  “You’re beat.  Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“Take your threesome home.  I’ll catch a ride with Mac.”

Yep.  Definitely jealous.  Austin smiled.  “Mac is indisposed.”

Her visual check confirmed as much when the big man howled drunkenly by the jukebox with Sue and another inebriated woman Danny had never seen before.  “For God’s sake, it’s Tuesday.  Doesn’t he know he has to work tomorrow?”

“If you truly want to blend with this crew, you’ll learn how to work with a raging hangover.  Come with me.”

“Don’t want to.  I’m having fun.”

“I’m getting very comfortable carrying you, Bennett.  Which do you prefer, in my arms or over my shoulder?”

The bold threat did much to earn her cooperation.  Besides, she was down for the count and they both knew it.

Because she felt like it, Danny looked toward the bar and quirked her eyebrows suggestively at the two women starring daggers at her retreating backside.

Austin flattened a possessive hand against her lower back.  “Eyes forward, Bennett.”

Never before had he loaded such a frustrating woman into the passenger seat of his vehicle.  When he slid behind the wheel, she was already feigning sleep and the ride home was quiet.

After a while, Danny opened her eyes.  She’d never seen the inside of a Lincoln Mark LT before.  The buttery interior had that new car smell and the pearl-white paint was spotless.  Why would anyone buy a big truck that couldn’t get dirty?  Then again, it fit the profile.  Big man, big truck.  And he shifted gears almost as smoothly as her thoughts.

Instead of entering through the gate, Austin took the smaller driveway and parked in the garage around the other side of the house.  Danny pretended not to take interest, but her curiosity was showing.

The garage door hummed and closed behind them.  Silence.

“This is where we get out,” Austin said beside her, his eyes unreadable in the dim light of the truck.

Danny jumped slightly and reached for the handle.  The three-car garage was unusually tidy with only a few boxes and cleaning supplies lined on shelves.  But her eyes were like saucers as they focused on the entrance to the house.  “I wonder how many ghosts are in there,” she breathed and stepped out.  It was a foolish thing to say, she realized instantly.

“You’ve been living here for over a week,” Austin replied and closed the driver’s side door.  “Have you noticed any ghosts?”

Her eyes met his over the hood.  “A few.”

Austin hung his head to hide his amusement.  “I mean besides your own.”  The keys dangled loosely in one hand and he opened the door with the other, stepped aside and let her through.

A small table lamp illuminated the immediate entrance, but her eyes took time to adjust to the shadows beyond it.  The smell of old wood and memories scented the air, then she noticed the black hole in the darkness that was one of the original, great brick fireplaces.  Unsure of which direction to take, she waited until Austin moved around her and followed him into the hall.  The whole place reminded her of the historic museum homes her family toured once on summer vacation, as if every large room should be roped off with a “Please Do Not Touch” sign.  As they neared the family room, opposite the formal dining room, the atmosphere changed, like stepping through a time portal.  The old mixed with new and she was struck with its charming capacity to coexist.  The scarred wood floor creaked beneath their feet when the familiar light of the kitchen bathed the hallway before the stairs.

Austin stopped her before she could advance toward her room.  “I want to show you something,” he said and beckoned her to follow.

Danny scoped out the darkened stairway and lifted an eyebrow.  “Uh…I don’t think so.”

The corner of his mouth turned up as he hovered above her mid-step.  “My bedroom doesn’t take up the whole second floor, you know.”  When she still hesitated, he ascended one more step, then another.  “Come on, Danny, take a chance.  It’s what you’re good at.”

Expelling a breath she didn’t realize she held, Danny placed her hand on the banister and followed him up.  The upstairs hallway cut through the center and separated four large rooms.  Only one door was open at the end and when they reached it, she set her teeth.  Lit by a bedside lamp, it was clearly his bedroom, a man’s sanctuary with huge wooden furniture, navy-blue bedding, elliptical equipment and a flat-screen TV in the corner.  But instead of shoving her in that masculine den to ravage her senseless, he took his keys, chose one and inserted it into the lock of the door on the opposite side ofpos be rope the hall.  In her confusion, she missed the rigid set of his back as he stepped foot into darkness.  The stagnant air hit her like plasma, but she remained in the doorway until a corner lamp came on.