Undercover Heat (3 page)

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Authors: Danielle LaBue

BOOK: Undercover Heat
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Ice blue eyes. Her heart stopped.

“No, no romantic connection at all.”

She sensed his gaze on her, and suddenly a rush of memories flooded her mind. Things she had sworn
she’d never think about again.

“Carrie, what about your illness? There was a lot of speculation about your sudden departure from the show. What’s the truth behind that?”

She thought she was prepared for this, but the tremble in her body told her different. Tucking her legs tighter against the couch, she again wished she’d passed on the tank dress. “I had a health crisis, but I’m fully recovered now.”

“Some reports said it was cancer. Was it cancer?”

His eyes had claimed her. Intense. Comm
anding. What a fool she’d been.

“No, it wasn’t cancer.” She managed.

“Stop tape.”

The sudden baritone echoed in her chest as Ty shoved his way around the camera. He reached down the front of her dress, snagging the small mike from the fabric. “It

s okay, I’m here now,” he whispered. “Just sit tight,
and let me take care of this.”

“Ty, what do you think you’re doing?” Carrie demanded.

“She doesn’t have to answer these questions.” His voice didn’t invite disagreement. “She’s here to talk about a TV show, not her personal life.

Earl came behind him and grabbed him by the shoulder. “Are you crazy, Hollister? She was doing a great job.”

“Why the hell is she up here by herself anyway?”

“She was here on time. Dressed appropriately. Which is more than I can say for you.”

Carrie knew from experience that it was easier to let the two men have it out than to try to interject. But part of her was angry. Angry, hell infuriated! How dare he be so arrogant to think she needed him to save her?

Ty stood with one hand on his hip with the other held in front of her, like a father making a case for a stricken child. His height and his build made him look menacing, but Carrie knew better. The Ty she knew was more apt
to stop trouble than cause it.

“This wasn’t live,” Ty told Earl. “They could have waited for me.”

“Since when are you such a publicity hog?” Earl asked. “I’d think a gossip magnet like you would be happy for a break.”

“Carrie is in no condition to do this by herself.”

“Wait a minute!” She pushed herself off the couch, strained her neck to meet Ty’s gaze. “I am perfectly capable of conducting myself in an interview, and I was doing just fine until you showed up.”

“But you don’t have to now. I’m here.”

“So what?”

“Carrie, I don’t like you getting
upset. Everything is okay now.”

He spoke softly, like he had when she was sick, as if the slightest spook would destroy her. She’d been fragile then, but that was years ago. She was over all that, and over him. “Fine then,” she spat. “If you think I’m so damn incapable, do the interview yourself.”

She pushed between the two men and bounded off the soundstage as fast as she could in her numbing stilettos. She threw open the studio door and bolted back up the stairs, ignoring the heavy footfalls echoing behind her.

“Carrie, wait!”

Maybe agreeing to do this was a big mistake. No amount of money was worth reliving the hell of five years ago. She was beginning to understand why parolees never made a habit of visiting old cellmates they’d left behind. It was easier just to forget they ever knew each other at all.

“Carrie?”

He stood behind her in the greenroom doorway. She closed her eyes and kept her back to him, afraid one look would s
tymie her resolve.

“Carrie Ann, please look at me. I just though
t you’d want company up there.”

“I
don’t want anything from you.”

She heard him shut the door, and the knowledge that they were alone scared the hell out of her. His large hand slipped over her shoulder, and when she opened her eyes he stared back at her. “Just hear me out.”

“No.”

Her brain screamed for her to move away. Somehow her feet wouldn’t budge, trapped in the incredible presence that was Ty Hollister. The sun-kissed complexion, the short dirty blonde hair, a perpetual five o’clock shadow that framed his chiseled smile. No picture in a magazine did justice of the real thing, and his proximity crippled her best intentions. Finally she managed to step back, picking up her jacket and pu
rse from the coffee table.

“Don’t leave.”

“Get out of my way.”

“Carrie, please.” He jumped in her path, his rippled bare chest peeked out at eye level from under his black leather j
acket. “Please, not like this.”

He touched her face. He traced the line of her jaw. Strong but gentle. Her skin tingled like it had a memory all its own. “I really have to get home,” she stammered, hating the obvious tremble in her voice. “
I have a million things to do.”

“Look, I’m sorry for being late, and for how I look. Manny’s finding me a shirt.”

“Who’s Manny?”

“He’s my assistant.”

“Oh.”

“I know you were counting on me, and I should have been here. I let you down and I’m sorry.” He ran his fingers through her hair. Her breath hitched in response. His words were exactly wha
t she wanted to hear.

Five years too late.

She drew away from his hand and exhaled, when it dropped to his side with a thud.

“Hey you two, what the hell is going on in there?” Earl pushed open the door. He had that expectant look, like he was waiting for a tea kettle to boil. “Time is money, folks,” he said. “Can we film now and talk later, please?”

Carrie pulled her jacket on and slung her purse over her shoulder. “Earl, I’m sorry. I thought I could do this, but I can’t.”

“Okay, so maybe you’re a little out of practice.”

“Carrie needs to get home,” Ty said.


Can I speak for myself please?”

“People!” Earl wiped his brow with a handkerchief then dabbed the back of his neck. “I don’t mean to yell, but I would just like to remind you that neither one of you would be where you are today if it wasn’t for the money and fame this TV show brought you. I deserve some gratitude. This DVD release means a lot to me. I put up with you people for five years. You can put up for two weeks.”

Carrie shrugged, and Ty chewed his lip. The usual response to Earl’s scolding.

“Now, I can get over what happened here today, but you two have to promise me that you can pull it together by Tuesday morning, nine a.m. We are booked for ‘The Olivia Godfrey Show’, so I expect you both to show up happy, smiling and willing to talk by then. Got it?”

“Got it.” Ty shoved his hands in his pockets.

“This is Thursday, so that gives you a five day weekend. My suggestion is that you two get reacquainted. Go get some burgers or coffee or something.”

Earl didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he stormed out the door, pulling a pill bottle from his breast pocket as he went. Carrie moved to follow, but Ty grabbed her arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To get him some water for his pill, and then I’m heading home.”

“How about you leave him alone and worry about yourself for a minute?” His careful tone had returned. Soft. Warm. Irresistible. “Grab your things,” he said. “How about if we head to the diner a few blocks down. Talk.”

“Ty-”

“Come on, Carrie, please? For Earl?”

His breath hit her already heated cheek, and by God if she didn’t feel herself swoon. “Fine,” she heard herself say as she flipped her scarf ove
r her head. “I’ll go for Earl.”

 

Chapter Two

 

The noontime traffic was thick as usual. Clouds of exhaust and the stench of diesel mingled with the damp promise of snow. A noxious concoction that was classic winter in
New York City
. They predicted a decent snowfall overnight, and by the swirl of the clouds converging above that the storm would move in earlier than Carrie had planned. She cursed. It was a good two-hour ride back home, and she wanted to make it in the daylight.
North Country
white-outs were doubly nasty in the dark.

Her heels were unsteady on the slushy pavement, so she made sure to walk just out of Ty’s reach. A painful tumble into oncoming traffic would be preferable to having his hands anywhere on her, breaking a fall. She maintained the distance until she hopped the curb in front of Hoggins Diner. He moved in front of her to hold open the door. Ever the southern gentleman, he had impeccable matters. Although she noticed earlier at the studio that he lost his accent.

When they stepped inside, Ty kicked the snow from his borrowed sneakers. Somehow the move attracted every eye in the place. The clanking of silverware and coffee cups ceased. Lunchtime chatter dulled to silence.

“What happened to indifferent New Yorkers?” Carrie said through the side of her mouth. “I thought they were used to seeing celebrities out in public.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice,” Ty said. “I thought I’d be pretty incognito looking like this.”

She lifted her gaze and assessed his newly donned baseball cap and a few-days-old beard. High profile celebrity or not, possibly he drew attention simply because he was that
good looking.

“There, behind that plant.” He gestured toward a vacant booth on the back wall. Pulling the “Bama” cap farther down over his eyes, he nudged her through the sea of patrons. On her way past, Carrie glanced at the clock over the counter. “I know the snow is coming,” he said in her ear. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you’re out of here in plenty of time.”

Ty slid into the booth across from her. He took off his hat and raked his hand through his hair before jamming the thing back on. A nervous habit of his. Good. At least she wasn’t the only uptight one. “Again, I’m sorry about the audience,” he said. “I really thought we’d go unnoticed.”

Fat chance. Two women giggled over French fries in the next booth. One whipped out a digital camera from her purse and took aim. “God, how can you live like this all the time? Don’t you get sick of it?”

“I’m used to it by now.” He cocked his head and scratched his chin with his thumb. “Forced myself to get used to it, I guess.

“Better you than me.”

“Come on, don’t tell me fans still don’t stop you on the street.”

“Not in
Middle
Valley
. Up there I’m just the same Carrie Ann who shovels her own driveway and drives an old pickup. Celebrity doesn’t hold much credence.”

He nodded. “Don’t forget, I grew up in a small town, too. I know what it’s like. And you don’t have to sell me on
Middle
Valley
. I liked it up there. And now you’ve put the place on the map with that bed and breakfast of yours.” He reached across the table and brushed his fingers across hers. “I’m proud of
you. Really.”

The tone was back. The one that reeked of pity. She tugged her sleeves down over her hands and sat back in her seat. When she looked up, she noticed him staring, a curi
ous smile straitening his lips.

“You look beautiful, Carrie. I noticed at the studio. Good and healthy.”

The added weight of his deep blue eyes somehow made her all the more self-conscious. She cast a sideward glance around the diner. A thin-haired man with a mangy goatee li
fted his coffee cup and smiled.

“Why don’t you take your jacket off? It’s warm enough in here.”

Her gaze shifted to the linoleum table. “I’m okay, still a little chilled from the outside.”

“Carrie-

“I told you. I’m fine.” She couldn’t fool him. His scowl told her as much. Acting came naturally to her, hell she had the awards to prove it. But she couldn’t lie, and no part of Ty bo
ught her lame attempt to do so.

“There he is. My favorite semi-regular!” A waitress with long dark hair and unnaturally tinted contacts popped her bubble gum as she approached their table. When she touched Ty on the shoulder, he startled at the intrusion. “Ty Hollister! Boy have I missed you.” She bent down and kissed him on the cheek, then placed the menus on the table.

“Hey Stacey.” He winked and flashed a red carpet smile. “How have you been, honey?”

“Better now that you’re here. How long has it been two, three months?”

“That’s about right. I’ve been on location. In
Italy
.”

“At the gym it looks like.”

“Played a boxer. Had to put on some mass.”

“No kidding.” Stacey slid her fingers down his arm, and made a show of squeezing his biceps. “Is that why you’re strutting around in the dead of winter with no shirt on under that biker jacket of yours? Showing off?”

“I was in a hurry this morning.”

“Well, let me speak for my whole gender and tell you, we don’t mind.” She pulled a pencil and pad from her apron pocket. “So, how long are you in town? Maybe we could catch up, you know what I mean?”

Carrie did. It never ceased to amaze her how women blatantly threw themselves at him, any time any place, even in mixed company. She chuckled and buried her nose
in the list of lunch specials.

“Wait a minute! Is that? Are y
ou? It is! Carrie Ann Langley!”

Carrie peeked out from behind the menu. Stacy looked at her, red-faced with her hand covering her mouth like she’d seen the Ghost of Elvis. “Oh my God,” the girl gushed. “I love you so much. Really!”

“Thank you,” Carrie said in a polite whisper, a tone she hoped Stacey would emulate. No luck. Instead she squealed and did a strange little dance th
at looked almost like a seizure
.

“God, and your show ‘
Undercover Heat
’ is my number-one favorite ever. You two were so good together. It was like you really were madly in love.”

Ty smiled. “We were that convincing, huh?”

“Oh yeah. I love the episode when you guys are being chased by those drug dealers, and you end up hooking up in that refrigerator thingy.”

“Um, I think it was a meat locker.” Carrie corrected, surprised she suddenly didn’t mind the stroll down memory lane. “That was Ty’s method acting stage, and he insisted we actually do the scene in a gigantic freezer.”

“Yeah, and I was sick in bed for a week after that.”

“I told you it was a bad idea.”

Ty leaned across the table and smiled. “I didn’t mind. I may have been in bed, but I did have pretty good company.”

The waitress had slipped away, but Carrie was sure any idiot could tell by her blush that they weren’t talking about the weather. The spell was broken when a shutter clicked on a high speed camera. Ty scowled at the table beside them. “I’m a top story now,” he grumbled. “They follow me like flies on shit.”

“I know. The whole Layla thing is pretty big news. I’m sorry, by the way. That must be hard to go through something so personal so publicly.”

“What can I say? I do my best to keep the world entertained at all costs.” He tilted his head to meet her gaze. “Come on, Carrie. Don’t tell me you’re surprised. You were the one who warned me about her.”

“Where did you meet up with her again anyway?”

“Vegas. At one of those burlesque shows. After she left her assistant job at
‘Undercover Heat,’
she worked at one of the hotels out there. Anyway, we met up one night. A few bottles of wine and a drive-thru chapel later, we were married. Eight months after that she left me for Marcy the dog walker.”

“Wow. That must be hard to deal with.”

“Ye
ah, I miss the dog like crazy.”

He tweaked the bill of his cap and sat back in his seat. Flippant had never been Ty’s style, especially about something like marriage. Although it was obvious the man in front of her was a variation of the original. His eyes looked tired, his shoulders hunched. His smile looked like he worked at it. What a sharp change from the
charismatic man she remembered.

A burst of winter air followed a breathless man through the door. He held a white t-shirt in his hand and scanned the room, before jogging to their table. “I found you a shirt. I stole it from wardrobe at Entertainment Now.”

“Hey Manny, this is Carrie Ann Langley. Carrie, this is my assistant, Manny Pipher.”

“The Incredible Carrie Ann is more like it. An honor to meet you.” H
e extended his hand and smiled.

Ty stood up and slipped off his leather jacket. A collective female gasp filled the diner when he revealed his incredible tanned physique. Carrie averted her eyes. No need for her to look. Every inch of the man’s body was etched in her brain. Even so, seeing him in person instead of her dreams was something she wasn’t prepared for. Again, she referred back to the lunch specials.

“I brought two of your usuals.” Stacy slid a tray full of burgers and fries in front of them. Soda sloshed over the sides of the plastic cups when she caught a glimpse of Ty’s sculpted pects. “You need anything else, give me a holler.”

“Thanks.” Manny snagged Carrie’s plate and scooped the burger to his mouth
.

“Hey, what the hell did you do think you’re doing?” Ty shoved him on the shoulder, knocking the bacon clear from the bun. “That was for her.”

“It’s okay.” Carrie insisted, pushing the plate closer toward Manny. “Go ahead. I had a big breakfast.”

“Carrie, I’m ordering something else for you.” Ty signaled for Stacey across the diner. “It’s a long ride back to
Middle
Valley
, and I want something in your stomach.”

“But...

“How about a piece of pie? Apple
’s still your favorite, right?”

“Ty.

“How about some ice tea. Lemon and sugar?”

“But it’s not necessary.”

“Damn it, Carrie. Yes, it is!” His fist landed on the table, knocking the silverware to the floor. Something flickered behind the whites of his blood shot eyes. A strange variation of anger, maybe fear, even sadness that had her glued to her vinyl seat. Manny too, it seemed, had appeared to have stopped chewing mid-bite.

The roomful of people probably still stared, but it didn’t matter. The world always seemed to fade away when she was with him. She opened her eyes wide, daring him to blink. Who would back down? Not her, and stalemates were not their style.

“Hey Ty,” Manny mumbled. “You have big plans this afternoon, and Carrie Ann seems to have stuff to do to. Maybe we should wrap this up.”

“Damn it, Manny, I’m having lunch with an old friend here.”

“No, he’s right.” Carrie refused to look away first. “I need to get going. And I don’t want to wreck your schedule. I’m sure you have other things to do, business meetings, appearances. Right, Manny?”

Manny took her cue and whipped the Blackberry from his pocket. She watched his fingers flip over buttons until relief registered across his face. “You’re already late for a lunch date about a film project across town. Then MTV has you later on this afternoon, after which you’ll catch a quick dinner, and then back to
Manhattan
for the Late Show.”

“And I know how you are about keeping commitments, and I don’t want to mess you up.” Seeing a quick out, Carrie picked up her purse. “I’ll see you next week, Ty. Good to meet you, Manny.” She wound her scarf around her
and slipped out from the booth.

“Carrie, wait!”

She squeezed through the crowd, shoving harder and moving faster when curious eyes focused over her shoulder. When she pushed opened the door, horns blared and cars raced by, tossing sprays
of slush into the swirling air.

“Hey
,
Carrie!”

This was precisely the kind of scene she wanted to avoid. People would speculate and reopen old wounds. Why did she think it would be any different? The heavy footfalls echoed behind her, urging her strides to a jog. Her shoes skidded on the pavement.

“Carrie Ann, slow down!”

The cement dipped at the crosswalk and her heel caught in the groove. She stumbled and braced herself for the fall, but fingers laced around her arm before she hit the ground.

“D
on’t take off on me like this.”

Her eyes met his, and a jolt of anger zipped through her.
She
was taking off on
him
? Again her feet gave way, and again he caught her, this time slipping his hand around her waist.

“Stay with me tonight.”

“What?”

“Call Lizzie. She still lives up in
Middle
Valley
, right? Tell her to watch the place.”

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