The Trouble with Angels (Angels Everywhere #2)(28)

"Do you follow the Lakers?”

She stared at him as if that were the most ridiculous question she’d ever heard. "Doesn’t everyone?”

Ted laughed. Blythe hated anything having to do with professional basketball, but she was a good sport about letting him watch the games when they were televised. But he hadn’t been to a game all year, and his mouth was watering at the thought of attending this one, especially with courtside seats.

"If you’re thinking about selling the tickets,” he said casually, "I’d be interested in buying them.”

She looked more confused than ever. "I don’t think so.”

"If you haven’t thought of anyone you’d like to take with you, I’d like to make a suggestion.”

"What?”

Ted grinned, and then surprised even himself. "Take me.”

7

Maureen was convinced barbecue sauce was smeared from one side of her face to the other. No matter how many times she checked the mirror, she was certain she’d missed a spot. Or several.

She’d let Thom know he wouldn’t find her so easy to manipulate a second time. He knew exactly how she felt about this outing, yet he’d purposely used the girls’ friendship to orchestrate their evening together.

Maureen planned on giving him an earful the minute they were alone. That had been her intention, only it never happened. The girls were so pleased to be together, and Thom couldn’t have been more charming. Early on, she decided she’d have dinner with him, but she was determined not to enjoy herself.

Her resolve lasted all of ten minutes.

Then, before she knew it, she was wearing a plastic bib, and the most delicious smoky-flavored sauce was dripping from her chin. The spareribs were the best she’d ever tasted.

Soon Thom and the girls had her laughing, and against her better judgment, against every dictate of her will, she had a wonderful time.

"I hope you plan to invite me in for coffee,” Thom announced when they pulled up in front of her small rental house. He turned off the ignition before she could answer. Apparently she wasn’t being given a choice.

"I’ll carry in Paula’s overnight bag for her,” he volunteered, as if the backpack were so heavy, it required someone with great physical strength to lift it.

He climbed out of the car, and Maureen fiddled with her house keys while he opened up the trunk and brought out the lightweight bag.

Maureen gave him a sideways look. "This is another underhanded trick in what is fast becoming a long line.”

"Would you have gone to dinner with me without the girls?” he asked under his breath.

"No,” she admitted readily.

"My point exactly. You would have sent me off on a lonely ride back to the valley without so much as a cup of coffee. What’s a man to do?”

Maureen smiled despite herself. She really had enjoyed herself, more than any time she could remember in a long while. It felt good to laugh again. Good to hear Karen laugh.

"All right.” She relented with poor grace. "I’ll brew you a cup of coffee.”

"That’s better.” Thom gave her one of his bone-melting smiles and followed her to the front door. The girls were practically dancing with excitement over the prospect of spending the entire night in one another’s company.

Karen and Paula disappeared inside Karen’s bedroom an instant after Maureen unlocked the front door. For the first time that evening, she found herself alone with Thom. Without the girls as a buffer, she was more aware of him as a man, more aware of herself as a woman.

"I’ll make you that cup of coffee,” she said, brushing her open palms together. "If you’d like to wait here, I’ll have it out in a jiffy.”

"I’ll help.” He followed her to the kitchen.

Maureen felt like a insect beneath a microscope, the way Thom’s eyes followed her every move. She brought out the coffee grounds and added them to the filter.

"Would you kindly stop?” she demanded when she could stand it no longer.

"What am I doing that’s so terrible?”

"You’re staring at me.”

"Is that a crime?”

"Yes.”

"You know, when you smile and your face relaxes, you’re an attractive woman. You should do it more often.”

Maureen wasn’t fishing for compliments, backhanded or otherwise. "I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I don’t want any part of it.”

"Game?”

"Yes, game.” Her hand trembled as she filled up the glass pot with water and poured all of it into the coffeepot dispenser. "If you have the sudden urge to date again, I advise you to look elsewhere for companionship. I’m not interested.”

It disconcerted her to have him laugh just then, a low, rumbling sound, as if her words amused him.

"Is that so funny?” she demanded. She took down a mug. It slammed against the counter with a bang, much louder than she’d intended.

"What’s so funny? You, Maureen Woods. You claim you don’t want to see me again, and we both know that’s a lie.” Truth flashed in his eyes like a distant light.

"You’re so sure of yourself,” she managed finally, her pride rescuing her. "You men are all alike, you think that—”