'Yeah. I guess you do, don't you.'
'Not because of…that. I just…know,' she said, studying his rigid profile. 'You've gotten very good at blocking me, actually.'
He didn't reply. A few minutes later he made several turns, and she recognized the streets, remembered the last time she'd been here. She'd been here with Wade, and then, as now, sitting beside him in his car in a painful silence that felt like the aftermath of a lover's quarrel.
Only then, unlike now, it had been his thoughts-a man's sex thoughts, involuntary, lustful and bawdy-coming through loud and clear that made the silence so awkward. That was then…before he'd gotten so good at blocking.
He looked over at her as if he'd heard
She shrugged and replied the only way she could. 'Nothing.'
He cleared his throat and in what he hoped was a casual way, said, 'Heard anything from my stalker lately?'
She looked at him and then away again. 'The
She felt irritable, argumentative. And she
She felt his quick, questioning glance. Then a shrug. 'Guess he found out what he wanted to know and moved on.'
But she was remembering that first vivid
She'd told Wade about that, but he'd obviously forgotten. Or, she told herself, still teetering on the brink of that inexplicable anger-
It seemed so obvious to her. the reason The Watcher- she was sure he was the man they'd met in the Rose Garden, the man with the camera, journalist Cory Pearson-no longer felt the need to shadow Wade. Quite simply, he'd 'found' him. She was certain he'd come to the Rose Garden that day intending to speak to him, to make himself-and perhaps his reasons for tracking Wade down-known. And for some reason, he hadn't.
A thought came to her. A notion so incredible, a possibility so emotionally overwhelming, she couldn't keep it inside. She tried her best but must have jerked, winced, made some small sound.
Naturally, Wade's immediate response was a demanding, 'What?'
And of course she replied, 'Nothing.' This wasn't something she could just spring on him out of the blue. And it was just a thought…
'Don't lie to me.' His voice was harsh with the pain he'd been keeping from her. 'Don't shut me out.'
When his own words registered with him a moment later, he laughed without feeling the slightest bit amused. 'Man, I do hope you got the irony in that.'
He paused again, having deduced from her silence that she was hurt, maybe even angry. 'Look,' he began, then went on in a softer voice, 'I've done things with you, felt things… I've never done or felt with any woman before. So…don't shut me out, Miss Tee. Please.'
She nodded, made a small throat-sound, then said evenly, 'I won't if you won't.'
He tightened his jaw. clamped down on his temper. 'Damn it, that's not fair.'
She exhaled and said tiredly. 'No, I guess it isn't.'
He felt those candid blue eyes of hers on him but didn't return the look. After a moment she faced forward again, and when she spoke her voice sounded blurred…indistinct. He hoped to God she wasn't crying.
'We didn't get a chance to really talk about this, did we? About what we're going to do.'
He pulled into the Hofmeyer's driveway and shifted into Park. He wanted to talk about this, but not now, damn it. He waited a moment, fortifying himself, then turned to her. 'How about this? We take it one day…one hour at a time. See what happens.'
There was a long pause before she nodded and murmured. 'Okay.'
For some reason her cooperation didn't make him feel any better. In fact, it almost made him feel worse. And he had no idea why.
It looked to him like gender communications issues didn't get easier just because one of the people involved happened to be psychic.
'I need to shower and shave, put on some clean clothes,' he ventured finally. 'Shouldn't take long. Do you want to come up and wait? You can nuke some day-old coffee, if you like.'
She shook her head. Muttered, 'Thanks. I'll just wait here.'
He got out of the car and was about to slam the door when he thought better of it, ducked down to say, 'Be right back,' then closed it carefully.
Tierney watched Wade go through the gate between the house and garage, then turn the corner and disappear around the back. It was rapidly becoming too warm in the car, so she opened her door to let some cooler air in. She put her head back against the head rest and closed her eyes, feeling bruised in mind and spirit, buffeted by storms of emotion- her own, for a change. How had she let this happen?
She knew better, too. People like her weren't cut out for entanglements like this. The emotional strain was simply too much. Especially now. On top of everything she had to deal with.
The emotional cannonball seemed to come out of nowhere. And no one. Tierney jerked upright and looked around, but there wasn't a soul in sight, not on the street, or in any of the yards. In fact, the only living creature abroad in the neighborhood appeared to be a very fat, very bored-looking basset hound sitting in the middle of the flagstone path that led to the gate through which Wade had just passed.
'No,' Tierney whispered, staring at the animal, 'don't tell me.'
The basset gazed at her with a superior expression of the type usually associated with British butlers.
She got out of the car and squatted down so as to be more on a level with the creature. 'Okay, dog,' she muttered. 'What'sa matter, hmm? Are you the one who's lonely?'
The hound heaved his massive hind end off the pavers and waddled toward her without haste, nose to the ground, ears dragging. Tierney met him halfway, lowered herself into a half crouch and held out her hand for the animal to sniff. She wasn't terribly experienced with dogs, but it seemed to her this was what people did when meeting a strange one.
This dog, however, displayed no interest whatsoever in her offering. He turned his head and gazed dolefully down the street.
Since he didn't appear to possess the energy required to actually bite anyone. Tierney decided to take the risk of patting him on the head.
