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“All part of the service.”
There was enough innuendo attached to his words for Stormy to guess he was offering more. Much more. The thought was like an electric shock.
“I have to be going now.”
“You know,” Tyler said before she turned away, “I’m almost to the point of conceding that you don’t have the money.”
Stormy gaped. “Really? Lucky me.”
“However, it’s somewhere. Perhaps if we sat down and went over the events, minute by minute—say, over dinner…”
“Oh.”
“Is that a yes or a no?”
“It’s a flat-outno. I’m entertaining my daughter and her friend for the weekend.”
“I’ll take them to dinner, too.” She raised her eyebrows at that. “We’ll talk business after dinner,” he clarified.
She made no reply, thinking history repeating itself.
“Think about it,” he insisted. “I’m good with kids. Or at least I used to be.” Pain momentarily shadowed his eyes.
“I’m sure you are,” she said. “And, Tyler?” He looked at her. “I’m sorry about your daughter. But…no thanks.”
He frowned. “Why do I get the feeling you’re deliberately keeping your daughter out of the picture?”
“Because she’s not involved in this,” Stormy said hotly, panicking.
Tyler looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “I’d still like to take you to dinner. You know, it’s typical in war for generals not to plan a battle strategy until they have a complete biography of their enemies. Over dinner, I can tell you the story of my life. Then you’d be well-armed, maybe learn how to outsmart me.”
Stormy gave him a look of utter innocence. “But that would be a double-edged sword, wouldn’t it? And how smart would I be to fall on it?”
Tyler groaned. “Ouch.”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
He bowed. “Oh, by all means, madam. Where are we off to next?”
“I’m going straight home.” Then she added impishly, “To clean out the attic.”
He straightened, his eyes widening. “Need any help?”
“Nope. But I’ll be sure to let you know if I come across anything resembling a hundred and two thousand dollars. I’ll wave a white flag. Where will you be lurking? On the highway or in the dunes?”
His smile was laced with sardonic amusement. “Sorry, unless you’re willing to hear my bio, I’m not revealing any war strategy.”
Giving him a small smile and a wide berth, Stormy strolled to her car. When she pulled out into traffic, Tyler was still standing at the curb, staring after her.
After Stormy disappeared from sight,Tyler focused his mind on his investigation in an effort to dispel other unwanted thoughts. Thoughts about how stimulated he was by her give-and-take. Thoughts about how her eyes gleamed with such intensity when she thought he wasn’t watching. Thoughts about her shapely legs and other shapely things.
Objective thinking told him it was time to close in. He decided to move from town to an efficiency motel on the beach less than two miles from Stormy’s house.
He told himself it was good business to stay as close as he could get, lest she slip the money past him while he was elsewhere.
Several hours later, he was lounging in a lawn chair on the damp sand, his binoculars trained on Stormy and two little girls as they splashed in warm seawater left behind by low tide. To blend in with beachcombers and the turtle watchers, he wore a Jacksonville Jaguars hat to shade his eyes and a short-sleeved shirt, then rolled up his jeans to his knees. The chair was a cheap thing he’d picked up at a local gift shop.
He spun the lens to magnify Stormy. She filled his vision. Could she fill the emptiness inside him?
