Dating a Metro Man (25 page)

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Authors: Donna McDonald

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Humor & Satire, #Humorous, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy, #General Humor, #General Fiction

BOOK: Dating a Metro Man
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“No need to convince me,” Todd said, holding up both hands in an attempt to quiet Jenna’s tirade. Construction workers had scattered for break the moment she’d raised her voice. Any other time he would have laughed. Today, Jenna’s temper tantrum was justified.

“Look, you know I agree with you. This place is phenomenal. The fireplace is a freaking work of art. It takes your breath away when you walk through the door. I can’t believe he hasn’t come by here dying to see what you’ve done,” Todd said.

“I want to talk to him,” Jenna demanded. “Give me five minutes alone with him. I’ll get him to change his mind.”

“You can do the story without him, Jenna. It may even look better for you as architect,” Todd said, watching her pace and fume. “
Architecture Digest
said they will focus solely on you instead. That’s what they mostly would have done anyway.”

“Todd, the man hasn’t even seen the house. Hell, it’s more my house than his. I picked the tile and flooring and the color scheme. I picked the cabinets in the kitchen and all the damn appliances. I chose cherry for the walk-in closet. What if he hates cherry? Not that I’m going to give a rat’s ass if his check cashes for you, but it’s the damn principal of it all. He needs to be appreciative. That’s his job as the client. It’s not going to look very good if all I’ve done is built a perfect damn ghost house,” Jenna declared. “This place was meant to be enjoyed by people.”

“Look, why don’t you take the afternoon off and rest. You’ve been working non-stop since this project started. You need a break. Maybe after you have an afternoon to yourself, things will be clearer. There’s really nothing we can do to force a client to agree to a magazine interview,” Todd said easily.

“Maybe there’s nothing more you can do, but that doesn’t mean
I’m
out of options. My mother raised me to get what I wanted out of life and I plan to do it,” Jenna said. “The afternoon off sounds like a great idea.”

Jenna stomped off toward her SUV with thoughts of murder on her mind. Since it was illegal to kill clients in the state of Virginia, she was going to have him investigated instead.

And she knew exactly who to contact about it.

*** *** ***

“Hey, Jenna,” Allen said, seeing her come stomping into the office in her beat-up work boots that looked in worse condition than any pair he’d seen in the military, no matter how long or hard the march. But while the boots were awful, what struck Allen most as Jenna came through the door was how little girl there was in her today.

Her clothes were dusty and stained. The standard jeans and white shirt she usually wore looked as bad as her boots. The current outfit said she was a person reduced to wearing the oldest clothes in her closet. Jenna’s eyes were the color of storm clouds, and her demeanor was tense.

In that moment, Allen couldn’t even remember what he’d ever been attracted to in Jenna Ranger. She cleaned up nicely, but this was her nature most of the time. She was a handful under the best of conditions, and he couldn’t fathom why a calm guy like Carter was so hung up on such a surly woman.

There must have been something he had liked as well, but all Allen could do now was be thankful he had found a laughing, sexy, girlie-girl like Talia. Shaking his head to move his thoughts away from Talia Martin and the effect she always caused in him, Allen gave Jenna a tentative smile.

“Alexa is out this afternoon. She and Lauren are meeting with a local organic farm about supplying the ingredients for Lauren’s scents,” Allen said easily.

“I didn’t come to see Mama. I came to see you,” Jenna said, running a hand through her hair. “Do you time to visit with me?”

“Always,” Allen said, his stomach dropping. He hoped this wasn’t about Jenna and him, or about her relationship to Seth. He was done with the soap opera and just wanted his own happy ending now.

“I need to have someone investigated,” Jenna began.

“Investigated? Why? Carter’s an open book. If you want more information from him, I’ll just sit on his skinny ass and bend him backward while you ask him questions. What’s up? Do you think he’s keeping something from you?” Allen joked.

Jenna’s temper lifted a few notches because of Allen’s humor. The mental image of Allen sitting on Seth was funny, but having lost her fair share of physical altercations with Seth, she well knew the man was a lot stronger than he looked. Allen might be surprised at how hard restraining Seth would be.

“It’s not Seth. If I wanted more information from him, I have my own means of extracting it,” Jenna said without thinking. Then she started to blush realizing who she’d said it to.

The comment only got a snort of laughter out of Allen. “Well, I guess you aren’t pining away for me.”

Jenna did laugh at his rebuttal. “Sorry. No. I’m—I’m mostly happy with Seth.”

Allen grinned, his relief larger than he’d imagined it could be. “Good to hear, babe.”

“Thanks. I need to investigate a client. I just built a local Taj Mahal for a man that won’t reveal himself. The house is supposed to be featured in a magazine, and I want him standing beside me on the cover. I worked my ass off for the man. He owes me that much,” Jenna said furiously, and then she took a deep breath and calmed herself. “I just want five minutes alone with him to discuss the matter. The problem is that I don’t know who he is.”

“Intriguing,” Allen said, considering her words. “Why the secrecy?”

“I have no idea,” Jenna said harshly. “That’s one of the many questions I’d like to ask him. Can you help me find out who he is? I can’t ask Casey. He’d tell Seth, and Seth—well, he’d try to talk me out of it. Seth would tell me it didn’t matter. But it does matter—it matters to me.”

“I’m all about helping you because it sounds interesting and fun, but I don’t like the idea of keeping it from Gunny or Seth,” Allen told her. “That sort of makes me nervous.”

“I’ll pay you three thousand dollars to find out for me, expenses included. You can keep how ever much of that you don’t spend on finding out,” Jenna told him.

“All the money up front?” Allen asked.

“Yes. So you’ll do it?” Jenna asked, feeling righteous in her quest.

“I’ll try my best. I could use the money, and it sounds like fun. But just in case, let’s keep this between us and very quiet. I don’t want Gunny to know I’m taking more work on the side. I like the work he gives me,” Allen said easily.

“I am the soul of discretion,” Jenna promised. “No one will know but us. Here.” She whipped a check out of her shirt pocket, along with another sheet of paper listing the few things she knew. “Just write in your name and cash it.”

“Jenna,” Allen began as she headed to the door to leave. “Are you really okay with Carter?”

Jenna paused, considered, and sighed as she stood staring at the door. “I’ve finally learned that no one is perfect. I know now that I’m not an easy woman to be involved with. Seth works hard to be nice to me, and I am trying to learn to be nice in return. I’m working on putting the past behind us.”

She looked at Allen.

“He’s done a lot to treat me better this time around. So I have to give this a real chance, Allen. I—I can’t stay away from him anyway. I guess I’d rather be struggling with Seth than trying to live without him. That’s as close as I’ve gotten to being okay.”

“That’s not exactly a declaration of love, honey,” Allen said, smiling softly.

“I know,” Jenna said sadly, closing her eyes at the thought of the love she sought and how what she had with Seth didn’t look like anything she had wanted. “I’m working on it.”

“Good. Keep working,” Allen told her. “There is nothing else like it.”

“You are such a romantic,” Jenna said, chuckling. “I hope you find that one great love you’ve been searching for, Allen Stedman.”

“Thanks,” Allen said, grinning and thinking of the last time he’d made love to Talia. She had spent the whole hour whispering praise to him in Russian, and then had literally wept in his arms with the climax that had gone on forever for both of them.

Days later, he still got aroused just thinking about it. Damn she was fun. It
was
a little like having a different woman every time, except at the end when she gave herself over to him to do as he pleased with her. Then it was exactly like it was the first time—so perfect and right that he just knew she was the one.

By the time Allen left his daydream, Jenna had already disappeared. He looked at the check in his hand and pondered where to start his investigation.

With the check, Jenna had provided the name of the lawyer who had been representing the client.

He’d have to start there. It was his only lead.

*** *** ***

In the middle of a late night phone call, Talia heard the doorbell ring. Never missing a syllable in her Chinese, she peered through the security port and felt her heartbeat speed up. It was after 10 p.m. Her parents were still sleeping in her room, the kids were in their rooms, and the man she wanted was on her doorstep with nary a bed available.

She let him in anyway and tugged on his hand to pull him to the couch with her. Holding up one hand when they were seated, she opened and closed it twice, signaling ten more minutes. Allen nodded and headed to the kitchen, bringing a beer back out of the refrigerator.

Finally, Talia noticed Allen looking worried. There was a heartbeat or two of personal concern, but then he reached out and linked their fingers as he drank his beer. The tension inside her unwound. Boy, did she ever have it bad for this one. She had already given him the power to unnerve her.

Some fifteen minutes later, she clicked the phone shut and squeezed his fingers.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. There was never any choice for her but the most direct path between any two points of connection.

“I got involved in the soap opera again,” Allen said sadly.

“I see,” Talia, easing her fingers away from his. “And you came to tell me that you stole the girlfriend back again?”

Allen looked at Talia in complete shock. Did she really not know there was no competition for her in his world. “Hell no. I let Jenna hire me to investigate something for her.”

Talia’s eyebrows shot up into her hair. “Okay. On the surface, that doesn’t sound so bad. In fact, I’m almost over wanting to kill her now. What’s the soap opera part?”

“Your employer is involved,” Allen said dryly, tilting the bottle and draining the last of his beer.

“I see,” Talia said, but she didn’t. “So what was the soap opera part again? Did I miss the explanation?”

“Jenna’s an architect building a house for a mystery client. She wants to talk to this client about doing a magazine cover. She just built a six-hundred-thousand-dollar house for the man. This is the next rung on her career ladder on the line. In short, she paid me three thousand dollars to discover the mystery guy. And I did.”

Talia’s eyes widened. “Seth?”

“You are one sharp cookie,” Allen told her. He met her gaze directly. “You’re my cookie. My fortune. My everything. Yeah, I know. It’s too soon. Screw that. There’s no other woman. So don’t go there anymore. It’s just going to piss me off.”

Talia leaned back with her elbows on the couch. “Are you this bossy with anyone else in your life?”

“I am almost always the nicest man you will ever meet. I just get insane at thought of anything coming between us, except the hard length of me when I’m aroused,” Allen told her. “Right now I’m severely pissed at Jenna and Seth and their problems communicating, even though I understand why Carter never told her that he sunk his life savings into letting her build the house of her dreams. I just don’t want to be the one in the middle of it. So use that amazing brain of yours and tell me how in the hell I can get out of this. Say it in English, please.”

Talia giggled at his anger, and Allen sent her a furious glare. She bit her lip and tried for a serious, yet sympathetic look.

“First, Seth did not sink his life savings into the house, just a healthy portion of it. Second, I’m your fortune cookie? How sweet—I like it. I don’t think any man has ever called me his fortune cookie before. And last, your dilemma, my love, is quite easily solved.”

Allen snorted as he met her laughing gaze. “Yeah? How?”

“Stall—until Seth comes out with the truth himself. This is not the sort of secret one divulges willy-nilly,” Talia said, laughter in her voice. “You will get more devious as you age. Children help a lot with that.”


Willy-nilly
,” Allen repeated, smiling for the first time since he walked through the door. “Is that really a word? Did Mason make that up?”

Talia buried her face in her hands and rocked the laughter away against her knees to keep from waking her entire family. “Stop making me laugh, Allen. I really am trying to help you.”

“I’m falling in love with you, Talia Martin,” Allen told her. “Don’t tell me it’s too soon.”

Talia shrugged. “What’s too soon? I’m already in love with you.”

Allen grabbed her feet and slid her down the couch to him, hoisting her to straddle his lap. “Stall, huh? In all your great wisdom of those extra eight years of life you have on me, that’s best you can come up with?”

“Well, I might have suggested pretending to fail, but I just didn’t see your male ego handling that well. I might also have suggested lying to a different sort of person, but dishonesty would probably be a huge burden for someone as level as you appear to be. So yes, I vote for stalling,” Talia said, linking her hands around his neck.

“Stalling it is then. Thanks,” Allen said, closing his eyes as she massaged the back of his neck. “You have magic hands.”

“So do you,” she told him, rocking herself against the palms that covered her rear.

“When can I have you—I mean, see you again,” Allen teased, leaning forward and kissing the laugh off her lips.

“Mason is missing you, and mother would like you to come to dinner tomorrow night,” Talia told him. “My parents like you and would probably watch the children tomorrow night after dinner while we go out.”

“I like your parents too. I hear their accent sometimes, and it makes me smile. Not the Bostonian, but the British one,” Allen told her.

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