The Royal Pain (11 page)

T
eal Grange parked his truck, which was so dusty it looked gray instead of yellow, and walked into the Pick n' Pin. He went straight to the bar to get a cup of beer, and instantly noticed all the men were sitting the wrong way. They had swiveled around on their stools and were watching the lanes. Which the bar guys never did.

Teal took his cup, then glanced over his shoulder to see what they were all staring at. And nearly dropped his cup on the popcorn-spotted carpet.

There was Jenny, ultra-yummy, petite, too-starched Jenny (he didn't know how she managed to look stiff in jeans, but she pulled it off). Jenny, marching over to the ball rack, grabbing one down, lugging it to her place at the foot of the lane, hurling it down the lane, waiting impatiently for a couple of pins to fall down, marching to the scoreboard and scribbling, then marching back to the ball rack.

“Wow!” he said, instantly dazzled. He glanced up at her score. Nothing to write home about, but a shitload better than the other night.

“Not only that,” the bartender, Carol, said. She flung the bar cloth over one shoulder, grimaced, then pulled it off and tossed it in the sink. “She's been in here since we opened at nine. That's her—what? Twelfth game?”

“Fourteenth,” the bar guys corrected her in dreamy unison.

“You're telling me she's been in here bowling all day?” He checked his watch. No, he wasn't late. “Jeez, it's almost suppertime.”

“Yeah, getting a little good at it, too,” one of the bar guys said. “Christ, look at those legs. Black denim, ah-yup.”

“I like 'em taller,” another bar guy said.

“When they look like that, I don't care if they're a fucking midget.”

“Don, you wouldn't care if they were a cat.”

“She should pull her hair out of that ponytail. I bet it'd look good on my pillow,” another bar guy joked.

“Shut up about that,” Teal ordered. “Stop speculating about my…date.”

Yeah, date. That was about it. Jenny wasn't in town long, for one thing. For another, she was already married to her job. For another, though he'd sell his soul for a shot at her in the sack, she clearly had no ambition to see
him
naked.

He was there strictly for entertainment value. Someone for her to talk to during the rare moments she wasn't working. Frankly, he was amazed they'd made it past the first date. Zero in common,
nada
, zilch. But ooh, those eyes…and he didn't mind them short. At five nine, he was in no position to be picky about height.

Still, it wasn't every day a good-looking brunette wanted to bowl with him, and he definitely took what he could get.

“I see any more leers tonight, I'm pulling tongues out and wiping the bar with them,” he warned.

“Great!” Carol said. “When do you think you'll get on that?”

He sighed. “Gimme a bottle of water, please.”

He took his beer and the water over to Jenny, who had just hurled a split.

“Damn! You're getting good at this!”

“I've been practicing. Thank you.” She accepted the water, and glugged it thirstily. “The Princess gave me the day off, so I left a message for you and came here.”

“Jeez, that was, like, ages ago. I'm sorry, I had to take out a bunch of tourists, I didn't even have my signal until a little while ago.”

“It's fine. Wretched ball,” she muttered, plucking it off the roller and marching to the line.

“Is that what you say to psych yourself up?”

“No.” She hurled again with a gasp, knocking over the fourth, seventh, and eighth pins. “Dammit!”

He sipped his beer and sat down at the scoring machine. She puffed a strand of hair off her sweaty forehead and waited for her ball to come back.

“So,” he began carefully, thinking that the bowling balls might as well be mines.
Might as well get to it. Please God, don't let her throw one of the damn things at me.
“How'd it go after I dropped you off?”

“Oh, fine. Just…family business.”

“You get in trouble?”

“The Princess protects me from that. Not many would, you know. Many who work for royalty are used to—” She cut herself off. “I'm sorry. I'm tired and upset, and I'm saying too much.”

“Well, shit, you wanna go back to the hotel? I mean, you've been at this for a while.”

“No, I don't want to go back there. If I go back there I'll want to work. And right now, for the first time in my life, I do
not
want to work.”

“You—you don't?” He was almost afraid to ask. “Then, uh, whaddya want to do?”

She looked at him and for the second time in five minutes, he almost dropped his beer. Gone was the skittering gaze of the shy woman he'd been getting to know; this was a woman who knew
exactly
what she was after, and full speed ahead. He was almost afraid of this one.

“I'd like to see where you live.”

He stared. And stared. And stared some more. Finally, to be sure, he said, “Where I live? As in, where I sleep? Where my bed is?”

“Yes.” She ignored her ball when it came spinning back to her. Her gaze was like a laser. “Where your bed is.”

“Well…okey-dokey. Do you want to get something to eat fir—”

“No.”

“Because we don't have to get a burger, we could stop somewhere and get a sal—”

“No.”

“I guess,” he said, totally mystified, “we'd better go, then.”

“Very good, Teal.”

T
eal pulled up outside a charming bank of sky-colored condos, got out of his filthy truck, walked around, and opened her door. “Mine's the one on the end,” he said. “Sixteen hundred sixty six.”

“The mark of the beast,” she said gravely.

“Yeah, watch out for the elevator full of blood. That can be such a drag sometimes.”

She might have laughed, but she was too nervous. She was a bundle of nerves, in fact, and all that energy had to go somewhere. Why not into Teal? He was a nice enough fellow. He looked fabulous. He looked
incredible.
His jeans were filled out in the most wonderful way, and so was his rust-colored work shirt. She'd have to do something about the ponytail, though. But the hair—dirty blond, streaked by the sun—was wonderful, thick, like living gold. The glasses made him look thoughtful and smart.

And the eyes…the color of the Caribbean, the color of spring. She'd never seen such green eyes before. It was difficult to look away from them, and she'd spent a lifetime getting used to Baranov blue.

She followed him up the steps to his front door, still silently fuming about the events of the night before. She knew the Princess was a grown woman, that she herself was faultless, but she resented the king's implication that she hadn't done her job.

He was just upset, she reminded herself for the thousandth time. You're reading far too much into it.

Still. It hurt like nothing else had, except the death of her father. The king's disapproval. And where had she been on the night in question? Busy with paperwork? No indeed. She'd been
bowling
. Which, to make everything much worse, she was
bad
at.

Well, there was one thing she could control—two, actually—and getting better at that silly game was big number one on the list.

“Here we are,” said big number two, swinging the door open for her. She walked past him, taking in a surprisingly neat abode for a man who lived alone. “So, you want a beer? A shot?”

She had a glimpse of piles and piles of laundry before he kicked the door shut. “Guest room,” he explained with a cough. “Not that I have any. Well, actually, I will. My brother's coming tonight to crash for a couple of days.”

“Crane, Robin, Crow, or Raven?”

He looked pleased. “Hey, you remembered! You listen real good.”

“It's my job.” She added through gritted teeth, “Which I'm
very very very
good at.”

“Whoa. Okay, calm down. And sit down.” He led her to the couch. “I know you're not the boozing type, but I really think you need a drink.”

“Very well. And you didn't answer my question,” she called after him as he disappeared into the kitchen.

“Crane. Robin and Raven are my sisters. Anyway, I didn't think you'd—I mean, when I told him he could crash here I honestly never thought you'd even see my—anyway, he's coming tonight.”

“I won't stay long, then,” she said,

“No no no. I mean, stay as long as you want. I don't give a shit.” He held out a small glass half filled with yellowish-brown liquid.

“Cognac?” she asked, sniffing doubtfully.

“Jack Daniel's. Drink up.”

She did, and instantly assumed the action was going to kill her. It seemed as if her lungs, trachea, and stomach were all trying to leap out onto Teal's dun-colored carpet at once.

“Feel better?” he asked solicitously, downing his own drink and smacking his lips.

“Loads,” she gasped, putting the glass down on the newspapers with fingers that trembled. That was when she noticed…“How many copies of the paper did you buy?”

“Well, all my sibs wanted a copy. And my folks. And I bought one for his mom, because God knows
he
won't think of it. He's real insensitive like that,” Teal confided, plopping down on the couch beside her.

“Men can be that way,” she said darkly.

“Ah-ha! So it's the king you're pissed at, not Alex.”

“I'm just…tired. I'm ready to go back home. I really want to get back home.” She realized how grumpy and inappropriate that sounded and hastily regrouped. “Not that it isn't a lovely state, but I just—I—”

“You want another drink?” he asked, green eyes anxious.

“No! I mean, no thank you. I want…you.”

“What? Ow! Hey, that's my last clean shirt. Be careful with—” Then he wasn't talking anymore, lord be praised, because she had seized him with her tiny fists, her lust and anger giving her the strength of the gods. She pulled him close to her and mashed her lips on his for a good long time.

“Please let me go,” he gasped after a minute.

“Take me into your bedroom,” she growled.

“Seriously, I've got some mace around here I think…I got it for my sister's birthday, but that's not 'til next month…”

“Make love to me.”

“But…okay. No, wait! Look, you're great and all, but you know the same thing as me.”

“What? Nevermind. Less talking,” she ordered. “More undressing.”

He was trying to gently fend her off with an elbow as she rained kisses on his neck. “Ack! That tickles. Look, Jenn, I think you're cool and all—well, a little starchy, maybe—but you don't want to do this. You really don't.”

“Yes I do. Do you have condoms?”

“Yes I do. Wait a minute! Aren't you listening to a damn word? We don't have a thing in common. If I was in Alaska, you'd never have given me a second look.”

“That's not true,” she muttered into his neck. “I think you're extremely attractive and annoyingly sexy.”

“Well, yeah, there's definitely a chemistry thing going on here, but that's all. You'll be really mad at yourself in the morning.”

“A pleasant change from being mad at—at things out of my control.”

“Ah-ha!”

“Stop saying that. What's wrong with your belt? It's like there's a combination lock on it.”

“Look, just…stop that…” He grabbed her hands and forced them into her lap. “Just…calm down now and stop getting me all worked up. I mean, I'm a nice fuckin' guy but only for so long.”

“Too long,” she grumped.

“Just, take a breath, okay? Relax. Caaaaaalm down. You're having a shitty day—week, maybe—and that happens to everybody.”

“That has nothing to do with anything.”

“No, no, it's okay! Shit, just the other day, some dildo-brain was all, ‘I can't find the bail on my reel' and nearly poked my eye—never mind, it's boring. Anyway, my point is, you shouldn't do something you'll regret the shit out of later, just because the king hurt your feelings.”

“He didn't mean it,” she said automatically. “He was upset.”

“Well, yeah! Believe me, I got the whole yuck-o story from Shel this morning.”

“You did?” She didn't know if that was horrifying, or a relief. Of course, Dr. Rivers wasn't under the same constraints as she was. He wasn't staff, he was…something else.

“Oh, yeah! The king! Coming out of nowhere like Batman! Busted in on them! Practically naked! Shel and Alex, I mean. Then he freaks out and practically has Shel shot on the spot.
Then
he takes 'em out for dinner—I dunno which is worse.”

“Thanks for the recap,” she said dryly, “but I was there.”

“It's no wonder everybody's upset. The way I hear it, that guy fills up every room he's ever in. I can't think of a better way to squash a, what d'you call it, a budding romance.”

“Is that what it is?” she asked, immediately alert. “Because the princess doesn't…I mean, she has had no long-term involvements. Ever.” That was safe enough. Anyone who had read
People
magazine knew that much.

“Trust me: they're going to get married. I have
never
seen Shel this rattled. He's overlooked all his prejudices to be with her. Next thing, he'll be eating cheese.”

“He—the king—he implied that I—that I had not been doing my job.”

Teal laughed so hard he almost fell off the couch. Jenny stared at him coldly. “I fail to see the humor you've found.”

“Do you hear yourself, woman? Nobody with half a brain could ever think that, not in a million years of thinking. You have no life! Everybody knows that!”

She cheered up a little. “Really?”

“Honey, you're pathetic! You didn't even bring blue jeans…to North Dakota! The princess had to
order
you to actually leave the hotel to even go on a date.”

She cheered up more. “That's true.”

“It's so fuckin' stupid that you've got this idea in your head that
anybody
thinks you're doing a bad job, much less King Hot Shit.”

“Mr. Grange!”

“See? You can't even be mad at him properly. You suck at that, too! And you
really
suck at being bad at your job.”

She smiled a little. “You're just saying that to cheer me up.”

“No, Jenn, I swear! You're the biggest workaholic loser I've ever seen.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “You're very sweet.”

“And weird, did I mention weird? Because if I said all that shit to any other girl on the planet, she'd kick me in the nuts.”

“No, the time for foreplay has passed,” she sighed. She straightened up, patted her hair, and made sure her shirt was tucked in. “You're right, it would have been an error of grotesque proportions.”

“Jeez, I didn't exactly put it like—”

She took one of his blocky hands in hers and squeezed. “Thank you for not taking advantage of me, Teal. I'll always be grateful. I never would have forgiven myself for doing something so impulsively unwise.”

“Uh, you're welcome.”

“You were so sweet to listen to my problems and help me understand them a little better.”

“I'm an asshole,” he grumped. “Golden opportunity to get laid by a hottie and I talk her out of it.”

“Yes, you did,” she said happily, standing. “And you've earned my eternal devotion and friendship.”

“Great. That and a fuckin' dollar, I can buy a Coke.”

“I'll buy you all the Cokes you want,” she promised. “But first you must take me back to the hotel.”

“Welcome back, non-bowling workaholic loser.”

“It's good to be me,” she said, completely seriously.