Undercover Love (The Women of Manatee Bay, Book 2) (17 page)

A wave of longing crashed over Rachel so profoundly that she ducked out of the kitchen and pressed herself against the hallway wall.

“You okay?” Joe came into the hall and eyed her.

“Fine. Just wondering if I need to get married.”

“Whoa.” Joe laughed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Any particular reason why?”

“My mommy told me to?” she tried.

“I guess that could be a reason. Do you need to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

Rachel noticed Kelly Ann, a fellow churchgoer, watching them from the living room. An uneasy feeling ramped down her spine. “Maybe we should talk a different day.”

“Whatever you want.” Joe smiled and went into the kitchen. She peeked after him. The guy wasn’t even affected by Katrina and Alec’s lovebirdiness.

Was it just her? Was she that desperate for love that she’d fall right into the arms of Sergeant Grant Harkness, knowing it could only lead to pain?

A cheer roared through her living room as the Wii people clapped. Mom and Widow Carmichael both came toward her.

“Thanks for coming,” Rachel told the widow, unsure why she’d been invited but determined to be friendly.

“Anything to help Katrina. She’s a dear girl.”

The old widow was singing a different tune now that Katrina and Alec were married. Only two years ago she’d been warning Katrina away from Alec. Maybe people
could
change.

The widow left and Rachel hugged her mother good-bye. While her mother walked out, Grant came strolling up.

“Hey,” she said, feeling shy. He wore nice-fitting jeans and a dark blue Guy Harvey t-shirt that brought out the color of his eyes. He strode to her and caught her in a hug.

It was the first time he’d ever hugged her.

His arms cradled her body, strong, confident, and her head fit onto his shoulder perfectly.

“Happy Birthday,” he murmured in her ear, his breath warm and smelling like Big Red, his lips inches away.

Drawing back, she couldn’t meet his eyes. “Thank you.”

“Katrina invited me. I hope that’s okay?” Despite the inherent question of his sentence, there was no question in his voice. He acted like he belonged.

Problem was, she didn’t know if he really did.

“You’re fine,” she told him, hoping he didn’t hear the doubt in her voice.

“Any cake left?” His eyes did that crinkling thing and her heartbeat sped up.

“We haven’t even eaten yet. Come on in.” She shut the door behind him and followed him to the kitchen.

The Wii game was still in progress. Grant paused in the hallway, his posture stiff as Maggie’s laugh reverberated through the living room. She pumped a fist in the air as her online competitor fell onto the wrestling match floor. Her hair, normally a deep auburn but a lighter red now because of the summer sun, bounced with the movement.

Grant was still standing in front of Rachel, mouth grim as he watched her sister.

Insecurity rippled through Rachel. Lips puckering, she nudged Grant. “C’mon, cake’s in the kitchen.”

He stared at Maggie a minute longer, then followed Rachel.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“Joe.” Rachel barged into the rectory of the church and shouted his name again.

Widow Carmichael tottered out of Joe’s office and sent Rachel a knowing smile.

She groaned. Great. No doubt the church’s nosy secretary would verbally speculate on Rachel’s presence at the church as soon as she left. Trying to hide her annoyance, Rachel returned the widow’s smile and brushed past her.

She needed to see Joe, to talk to him and get his perspective on things. The fact was, her date with Grant, their morning runs, were bugging her. She could barely concentrate on her current case, let alone investigate the mayor. Not with the constant vision of Grant’s smile distracting her.

She pushed the door to Joe’s office open and stepped in.

He sat at his desk, sunlight from the window behind him spilling over his hair in a golden arc. She plopped down in one of the chairs on her side of the desk and waited for him to acknowledge her.

While waiting, she studied the plaques on his wall, the awards and certificates of achievement. It still amazed her that he chose to pastor this little town. In school he’d been Maggie’s friend but after he became a Christian and started this church, he and Maggie took different paths. Because she was also a Christian, Rachel had gotten to know him better. Pastorhood suited him. Besides Katrina, he was one of the most easygoing, forgiving people she’d ever met.

His abundance of forgiveness was a strong reminder of her own lack in that area. When she left the house this morning, Maggie had been sleeping still. Now that it was noon her sister was probably up and nursing a hangover. Which she totally deserved.

After the birthday party last night, Maggie, Charlie and Angel had hit up Wiley’s. Maggie hadn’t come home until early morning.

Rachel felt a scowl pull at her lips. Saying a prayer for Maggie last week had felt right, had eased her heaviness. The feeling didn’t last. Today, bitterness lodged in her gut. She wanted it to go away, needed a reprieve from its weight, but it stuck, annoying, like gum on a shoe.

Joe looked up from his desk. “Sorry Rachel.” He shuffled papers until their edges lined evenly. “I just had to finish that up. What’s up?”

“I need help.” Her chin jutted. “I’m having some relationship troubles.”

Joe’s brows pulled together. “You’re talking to me as a counselor? I can make you an appointment.”

He looked sincerely confused. And maybe a little irritated. She bit her lip. If someone interrupted her at work she would be highly peeved. “I’m sorry for just barging in like this, but I had to talk to someone.” When he still looked confused, she leaned forward. “A friend, Joe.”

Poor guy. She could see the compartmentalization taking place in his tousled head.

“Oh.” His fingers tapped against the papers on his desk, a steady scratch in the quiet room. “Don’t you have any female friends?”

Heat bulleted through her. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Rachel.” His voice lowered as though he was sharing some big, deep secret with her. “I’m a pastor.”

“I know that.” She wanted to waggle her eyebrows and say
duh
but stopped herself.

“I have a reputation.”

“We’re in your office. Talking. People come here all the time.” She crossed her arms. How many times had they eaten lunch here? Discussed plans. What had changed?

He had the grace to blush. “Firstly, I don’t meet with women alone. Those appointments are made when there is someone else in the building and the door is kept open. Secondly, things are different now.”

“What things?” She didn’t bother keeping her voice down. “We’ve been friends for ten years.” Her finger poked through the air. “Ten years. If something was going to happen between us, it would have by now.”

He cast a furtive glance at the door behind her. His head ducked. “That’s the thing,” he whispered. “People think I’m in love with you.”

She jerked up out of her seat. “What?”

Joe grimaced. “Try not to pop my eardrums, Rachel.”

Her hands flew up, then smacked down to her sides. “I thought it was just my family acting strange. So you’re saying more than my crazy mother thinks we’re . . .” She swallowed hard. “Involved?”

“Please stop pacing. You’re making me dizzy.”

“You know I move when I’m upset.”

“What part upsets you?” An emotion fluttered across his face, something she couldn’t quite put a finger on. Something clenched tight in her stomach. “Wait, you’re not . . . Oh no. Joe, you’re not in love with me, are you?”

There was a shocked silence while his eyes rounded. Despair pounded through her. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt one of her best friends. Her breath caught somewhere between her chest and her throat.

Joe busted out laughing. The breath whooshed out of her and she glowered at him. “You think this is funny?”

He wiped at his eyes while she planted her hands on his desk.

“It’s not funny,” she snarled. “I thought I was going to have to break your heart.”

His laugh grew louder, if possible, filling the room with sound.

“Oh stop, you sound like a hyena.” She straightened from his desk and pulled at the bottom of her blouse until she felt suitably unrumpled.

“Calm down, Rachel.” He chuckled again, more quietly, thank goodness. If she didn’t love him so much, she’d smack him. Wasn’t that what sisters did to brothers?

“Hoo boy, that felt good.” He looked at her, his blue eyes sparkling with mirth. “You might want to take a deep breath. Your face looks redder than a ripe strawberry.”

She squinted at him. “Thanks a lot.” But annoyance was already fading, replaced by sharp relief. Things were the same between them. A familial friendship, which was good. She didn’t care for change all that much.

“So who started these rumors?” she asked.

He shrugged, rising out of his chair. “I have no clue, but until they die down we need to keep a respectful distance. The older folks already keep their eyes on me, waiting for me to mess up.” Some of the amusement left his face.

Rachel clucked her tongue. Poor Joe. Always trying to be the best person possible. He rounded his desk to hold the door for her.

She reached for his arm. “Don't let them stifle you. You’re a wonderful man of God.”

“Thanks Rachel.” He patted her shoulder. “I’m going to see you out because I have an appointment due any minute.”

She sighed and moved her hand off his arm. “I guess I’m going to have to go bug some unsuspecting friend.” She winced. “Actually, besides you and Katrina there aren’t too many people I confide in.” That put a damper on things. Joe was off limits, at least face-to-face for who knew how long, and Katrina was traipsing around New York again with Alec. They’d left this morning. She desperately needed to unload on someone about all the emotions wreaking havoc on her common sense.

“How about Maggie?” Joe moved towards the door.

“Whoa, that question came out of left-field.”

“Didn’t you say the other day she’s staying with you? In high school she seemed fairly decent.”

Rachel rolled her eyes and followed him. “That’s actually the other thing I was going to talk to you about. She’s a mess and it’s driving me nuts.”

Something in her tone must have caught his attention because he paused at the door and studied her.

She shifted, her new heels squishing her toes. “Don’t give me the pastor look.”

“Hmmm. Is it Maggie driving you nuts? Or God’s conviction?”

Rachel pursed her lips. “Actually, both. There’s a lot of things I need to talk to you about.” At that moment, her voice cracked. She clamped her jaw closed. Joe might be a great friend but she refused to get emotional in front of him.

Concern flickered across his features. He probably knew the crack signified the distress she tried to hide beneath a calm façade. “Rachel, I’m sorry. Why don’t you call me tonight?”

Flipping her hair, she gave him a tight smile. “Maybe I will. I better get going though.”

As she passed him he grabbed her hand and held it. “Really, call me.”

Joe rarely touched her. He was a pastor who had an image to uphold, which had always been fine with her. Out of respect for him, she never hugged him or displayed any behavior that could be deemed inappropriate. Suddenly, though, gratitude surged through her and she tossed the structure of their relationship to the wayside. He was such a good friend. Kind and giving. One hug couldn’t possibly hurt.

She pulled him to her and squeezed. “Thank you, Joe.”

A throat cleared behind them. They pulled apart.

“I’m not interrupting, am I?” asked Grant, a sardonic smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He lounged against the wall, noting the flush spreading up Rachel’s neck to cover her cheeks. Though it was Saturday, she wore a black suit. He scowled. The skirt exposed her long legs, feet clad in heels too spiky to be comfortable. Rachel never seemed to be concerned with comfort.

Her own or anyone else’s.

He brought his gaze to her face. Her nose rose an inch.

“You’re not interrupting anything. I was just leaving.” She patted Joe’s arm then swung Grant a smirky grin. “You here for an appointment?”

The scene he’d walked up on had been tender. He’d meant to tease her by implying there was something more but, based on her smirk, it looked like he’d put her on the defensive instead. He shifted his stance, relaxing against the wall, hands stuffed into his jeans pockets.

“No appointment, though I could probably use one.” He jerked a thumb towards the entrance. “I saw your car in the parking lot.”

Suspicion flitted across her face. She cocked her head. The pastor’s lips quirked.

“Something funny about that?” asked Grant. Joe’s body language spelled amusement, no doubt about it.

“Rachel might think so. I’ll let you two talk.” Pastor Joe motioned his chin to the left. “My appointment is here. Hey Luke, how’s it going?” A teen boy slumped past them, his hands pocketed in faded jeans. Joe followed the kid into the office. The door thudded closed behind him.

Rachel crossed her arms. “Are you stalking me?”

Grant snorted, straightening from the wall. No wonder she was a private detective. The woman was more guarded than an escaped convict. “Let’s talk about this somewhere else.” He headed towards the church’s entrance.

Her killer heels clicked behind him, sharp little taps that probably mirrored her irritation. He reached the foyer, a comfortable little room defined as a place to wait by the few padded chairs lining its walls and a table topped with magazines.

“I’m not going outside with you until you answer my question.” The rhythm of her heels ground to a halt, filling the room with a tense silence.

He turned slowly, arching a brow. “I’m a policeman, Rachel.”

“That’s no guarantee of anything.” A mulish expression crossed her face and he resisted an urge to laugh. She really was audacious. And suspicious, to boot.

“Stalking is not my style. I was headed to the Pizza Place when I saw your car in the parking lot.” He flashed her a grin. “Wanna eat some lunch?”

He didn’t miss the brightening of her eyes before she looked away, setting her jaw. “I have things to do.”

“You need to eat.” Stepping forward, he lightly took her hand. Her fingers seared his skin, ice-cold. He frowned, all thoughts of coaxing acquiescence from her disappearing. “What’s wrong?”

She slid her hand from his, a smile trembling on her lips. “Nothing. I just have a lot on my mind.” Her gaze met his.

She looked worried.

His protective instinct kicked into gear. He forced his hands to his pockets. They’d only been on one date. A funeral and a couple of morning runs didn’t count. “Let me help you.”

Rachel pressed her lips together, hating the concern etched across his features. She couldn’t blurt out that he was her problem, messing up her controlled and safe life. Making her feel defenseless against his charm. “I’m fine,” she said and was glad when he didn’t press for more.

He dragged a hand across his face and she suddenly realized he wore jeans and a faded t-shirt.

“No work today?”

“Nope. Tomorrow.” His fingers sliced through his hair, ruffling it, and an unwelcome urge to smooth the area down overcame her senses. Tenderness toward a man. She barely kept from growling, not liking the feeling one bit.

First, she began falling in love with him because Katrina kept inviting her out to eat and Grant was always there. She’d been safe when he hated her, even if his caustic attitude had been hurtful. But now . . .  Not only did he try to charm her at every opportunity, but he was a man who seemed intent on learning more about God.

At her party yesterday, he’d been fun. Teasing and light-hearted.

At the moment, she couldn’t think of a single reason to resist this impossible attraction. This thorn impaling her good sense. Not her father’s gypsy presence in her childhood, not Scott’s unfaithfulness.

The lessons of her past paled beneath the lure of Sergeant Grant Harkness.

The bells on the front door tinkled as it swung open. Widow Carmichael hobbled back in, arms filled with paperwork. She glanced from Grant to Rachel, her smile changing to a disapproving frown.