Seaside Avenue (Cedar Cove #7)(40)
When they’d finished kissing, Teri released a deep sigh. “No one told me married life would be this good. It’s not the sex,” she said earnestly. “Although that’s terrific—don’t get me wrong. It’s the…being together. Trusting each other. You know?”
Bobby murmured, “Yes. I know.”
“Well, I’d better get ready. Rachel and I—” She stopped abruptly and Bobby felt her anxiety.
“What’s wrong with Rachel?”
Teri raised her head. “Nothing. Why do you ask?”
“You’re worried about her.”
“Well, I guess in a way I am.”
“Why?” Bobby wished he could think of something more useful to say. But most people simply confused him. Outside of Teri and James, the only other men and women in his life were chess players like him.
“Rachel’s seeing Nate soon,” Teri went on to explain.
Bobby searched his mind until he remembered that Nate was the navy guy Teri’s friend was involved with.
“That’s good?”
His wife shrugged helplessly. “She thinks it is, but I’m not sure.” When Bobby frowned, she said, “I’m positive Bruce Peyton’s in love with her. Only he won’t say anything….”
That was foolish, in Bobby’s view. “Why not?”
“Oh, I don’t know. He’s a widower, and he and Rachel have been friends for years. But I can tell you that if he doesn’t act quickly, Bruce is going to lose her and that would be a shame.”
Bobby could understand the fear of losing someone. He loved Teri; he needed her. He’d be devastated if she left him—or something happened to her.
Teri stood up, tucking the towel more securely around her, then started toward the closet.
He wished she’d drop the towel. Bobby liked watching her body. It was soft and generous, the way she was.
“Bobby Pin,” she said, whirling around. “Talk to James.”
“Okay.”
“I want to know what’s going on with him and my sister.”
Ah, so that was it. “If anything.”
Teri’s eyes twinkled with delight. “Trust me, my darling, there’s plenty going on. Be discreet about it, though. Subtle.”
Bobby wouldn’t recognize subtle if it handed him a calling card. “I’ll try.”
When Teri stepped out of the closet, she was fully dressed in tailored white pants and a sleeveless blue sweater. She looked as if she was ready to walk out the door and when she reached for her purse, Bobby knew he’d guessed right.
“Isn’t it too early for work?”
Teri returned to the bed. “The hair show in Seattle is today,” she said. “Remember? Rachel and I will be gone until dinnertime.”
Bobby didn’t like the thought of his wife being out of his sight for that long. Arguing with her, however, would be pointless. He had to trust that she’d be safe, and at least she and Rachel would be together.
Leaning forward, she kissed him deeply, making him all the more reluctant to release her. “Talk to James, all right?”
“He’s not driving you?”
“Not this time. Rachel’s picking me up. We’ll grab breakfast on the way.”
“But—”
“Bobby!”
The expression on her face indicated more clearly than words that this discussion was over. Teri didn’t understand the danger she was in. Vladimir was not a man to trifle with; his one consolation was that the Russian would be in Los Angeles for the chess tournament.
Rachel arrived soon afterward, and the two of them drove off. Bobby spent his morning on the Internet following the chess match in California. More than once he had to close his eyes. The lure of the game, the competition, was as powerful as any drug. He missed it.
At lunchtime he remembered his promise to Teri and asked James to bring the car around. Bobby walked out to find his car parked by the front door, his driver standing dutifully beside it.
“Where to?” James asked, as Bobby climbed in.
“Just a few questions, James,” Bobby said from the back. Teri had said he needed to be subtle.
“Yes, sir.” Inside the car James had turned around, hands on the steering wheel.
“It’s about Teri’s sister.”
The back of James’s neck went beet-red. “Sir?”
“Teri was thinking of inviting her for dinner again.” That was subtle, wasn’t it? Bobby was proud of his artfulness.
“Very good, sir. Shall I pick her up?”
“Yes, if you don’t mind.”
He could see James’s fingers clenching the wheel. “Of course not. When would you like me to get Miss Christie?”
“I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Bobby hesitated. “She’s a lot like Teri, isn’t she?”
James met his eyes in the rearview mirror. “In what way, sir?”
“She’s beautiful.”
James cleared his throat. “I hadn’t noticed that.”
A lie if ever Bobby had heard one. “Do you get along with her, James?” he asked, deciding the direct approach might work best, after all.
The other man’s lips thinned. “Unfortunately not.”