The Way U Look Tonight Page 7

  Joe looked at the others, then Keefe. “None of us could keep our mind on . . . Well, you know what I mean. We couldn’t concentrate. Are you going to help us, or not? What did you decide? We have a lot riding on this decision of yours.”

  Keefe said, “Here’s the deal. Too many people over at Slim’s heard Stanley commandeer me into doing a play. They’ll expect a production, or it’s going to look more suspicious than the Bible study for all of you.”

  “Well, dang,” Frank grumbled. “A real play? If that don’t beat all. Now we got to do a show about a bunch of stupid dresses.” He ran his hand around the back of his neck. “Guess it’s the price we pay for a little nookie around here.”

  Little? Keefe wondered what they considered a lot! “It doesn’t have to be about dresses. In fact, there are no adult male parts in that play, and it’s a kid’s play anyway. I’m betting Stanley hoped you’d all get fed up with it and leave, and she could get paid for doing nothing. What about the play Arsenic and Old Lace}”

  “Don’t think I like that ‘old’ reference,” Roberta said in a pout.

  Keefe said, “You know the story. Two sisters, an eccentric brother, a con artist and his evil pal. We can use the radio script; it’s shorter. We need ten actors, two younger, and I got that covered. We’ll meet every night for three hours and—”

  “No way,” Joe said, holding up his hands in protest. “Too long. We got other stuff on our minds besides this dang play that you got us roped into.” He draped his arm around Betty and brought her close, and Keefe remembered how he liked having Callie close. Couldn’t he think of something else besides Callie! Hell, she was thinking about Lex!

  “Fine. Two hours but we meet every day, and you all have to memorize your lines on your own time and do it quick. No fooling around while you’re here. We work hard, and we start tomorrow, six sharp.”

  This was a good idea. He’d help the seniors and Barry, and it would keep him away from Callie. She might have imagined she was having sex with Lex Zandor, but it was Keefe O’Fallon who couldn’t keep his hands off her, even though he knew he had to with every brain cell he possessed. Getting too close to a reporter was a really, really dumb thing to do.

  The problem was every cell in his body wanted her again. Not just because the sex was really great, but to clear up once and for all exactly with whom she’d had sex.

  ———

  Max lay sprawled across the front porch as Callie rocked Bonnie in the swing. Digger had persuaded Rory to join him for a beer at Slim’s, leaving her alone to appreciate the sky painted with pinks and blues. A perfect moment, a perfect house, a perfect baby. Tranquility hugged the earth as if paying homage to the glorious moment.

  Except it sure as heck wasn’t going to last. Keefe would come home, and then what? If he didn’t buy her fantasy story of thinking of him as Lex Zandor when they had made love, the situation between them could get real darn embarrassing.

  Not for him, of course. Keefe was a player, and Callie Cahill was just another female conquest, another notch on that overly notched belt she’d heard about. The good part was the Lex Zandor lie had come across as a one-time fling that was now over with. And that part was true. Lex or Keefe, or whatever his name, was out of her system . . . Least that’s what she thought till she saw him walking down the driveway with his hands in his pockets, hair mussed and five o’clock stubble darkening his jaw. He looked rough, a little risky, more Zandor than O’Fallon, without a doubt the most gorgeous hunk of mankind God saw fit to put on the earth, and he was not out of her system one bit.

  Chapter 6

  Callie went cold, then hot, then very hot, just looking at Keefe as he came toward her. What could she say to a man she had just had sex with, but then insisted it wasn’t him at all but someone else? How had she gotten into this mess? Duh! She’d screwed around when she shouldn’t have.

  Maybe she could steer the conversation in the direction of getting Digger and Georgette together and keep the talk far, far away from the gym. Maybe Keefe was as ready as she to forget what happened there. She considered the set of his determined chin and the purpose in his step. Maybe pigs could fly!

  Max wagged his tail like a windshield wiper in high gear as Keefe came up the steps. Think, Callie, think. Say something smooth and sophisticated. Something trite. “Ah, what’s going on with the senior citizens and their sex lives?”

  Sex lives was not trite!

  He leaned against the post and stared down at her. “I didn’t ask them. I’ve got enough problems with my own sex life and a bad case of mistaken identity. You know this isn’t over.”

  She swallowed. Her insides dissolved into goo.

  “When I make love to a woman she knows it’s me and not some TV character.” Keefe’s eyes turned black. “Next time you won’t get confused who you’re screwing around with. You’ll damn well remember it’s me.”

  “Next time?” Was that croak really her pathetic voice? She felt herself blush to the bottoms of her feet.

  “Oh, yeah,” Keefe said, his voice low and smoky, swirling around her. Her skin prickled and felt clammy, and it had nothing to do with the hot summer night and everything to do with Keefe right here in front of her now. If there was one thing that made a handsome man even more so, it was him wanting a woman and doing whatever it took to get her. And this time she was the woman.

  Okay, this had gone far enough. She had to level with him about not thinking he was Lex. It couldn’t be any worse than him thinking he needed to convince her. If he did ... If they did . . . Again . . . “Look, Keefe, about the gym and what I said about you being Lex. I—”

  “This isn’t about Lex; it’s about you and me.”

  How the heck could she get over this guy when he said things like that? How could she not strap Bonnie in the stroller and ravage Keefe right here on the porch swing. After doing it in the gym the swing would be a snap and a lot more comfortable. She had to stop thinking about Keefe and sex!

  She heard voices and cut her gaze to the driveway and Rory and Digger ambling toward the house. Thank the Lord! Nothing like an audience to kill a bad case of raging hormones. “We have company.”

  “Like I said, this isn’t over.”

  As the two men came up on the porch, Rory said, “Looks like my sweet pea’s doing just great.” He scooped Bonnie into his arms. “And she’s all mine.” He swayed back and forth, grinning like the happiest man on earth, and Keefe asked in an even voice, “Did you happen to hear anything about Mimi when you were at Slim’s?”

  How could he be so calm? She was a wreck. Then again he wasn’t the one who lied and got caught. Digger parked in the swing beside her. “If someone is in town keeping an eye out, they’re going to hang low and do more listening than talking. They know we’re looking for a connection to Mimi’s past, and they won’t want to make us suspicious. But now that we have contractors coming in for the new residential area strangers are a dime a dozen, so we have no idea who to suspect.”

  If she looked at Keefe, she’d probably break out in nervous hives, so she tipped her head, focusing on Digger and Rory, and concentrated on keeping the conversation going. “Was Georgette at Slim’s?”

  Rory said, “You bet. Digger pointed her out to me right off. What a dishy gal. Flirting with some young deckhand I just hired on. She sure can dance. Looked like she was having the time of her life at Slim’s tonight, but she kept looking over at Digger here, giving him the eye.”

  Digger rolled his broad shoulders. “That woman’s way out of my league. One look at her and I knew that.”

  Callie nudged Digger. “You’re a barge captain.”

  “I’m a river rat.”

  “A very nice, really handsome river rat with great green eyes and a terrific body, who’s getting the come-on from the new girl in town.”

  Digger blushed, and Rory chuckled as Callie added, “You should ask Georgette to go dancing. Take her into Memphis. The town is music central; you can have a great time.”
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  “Except I dance like an elephant with a hernia, and Georgette was looking real good tonight, like she goes to all those fancy places in the big cities. The only dance I know is a country two-step, and then I got to have a few beers in me to do that much.”

  Keefe said, “Hell, if you can two-step, you got it made. Add a few of your own moves, and you’re there. If I can play the part of a mob boss, you can dance.”

  “What about the slow dancing? That’s me leaving the bar three sheets to the wind and walking home real easy like.”

  Callie said, “There’s a radio in the kitchen. I’ll get it, and we’ll have you dancing like Fred Astaire in no time.”

  Rory turned for the door. “Okay, that’s my cue to skedaddle on out of here. Bonnie and I need our beauty rest. Try not to step on too many toes. ‘Course, if my Mimi was here, she and I could show you a thing or two about dancing.”

  Keefe put his hand on Rory’s shoulder. “We’ll find her, Dad. I swear it. You know what you used to tell me when things were going right to hell. That goes double from me now.”

  Rory nodded as if trying to convince himself as much as agree with Keefe. “We have to find Mimi. My baby needs her mama.” Rory went inside, Callie following. He said to her, “You best get some beer along with that radio. I’m betting it’s going to be a beer kind of night.”

  She touched Rory’s arm, and when he turned she kissed him on the cheek. “If Keefe said he’s going to find Mimi, he will. When that man sets his mind to something it happens ... no matter what it is.” She gulped, thinking how she fit into that picture.

  Rory smiled, but his weathered face was more worried than happy. “Mimi’s out there, and we are going to get her back. I really believe that. And I want you to know I’m real glad you’re here. You’re good with Bonnie and my son. You understand him, and not everyone does. Got made fun of when he was kid. He and Ryan used to get beat up regular like by a gang of punks at school. Called Keefe pansy and faggot and a lot of other nasty stuff. Then one day badass Quaid came along and saw what was what and set things to right. The three of them have been joined at the hip ever since.”

  “I thought Quaid was Keefe and Ryan’s brother?”

  “Quaid came from a crappy home, raised by his grandpa who let him run wild, then walloped him good when he got into trouble. He was a hair away from going to some juvenile detention place, so I took him in. Grandpa was more than happy to get rid of him . . . for a price of course.” He winked at Callie. “Never told anyone that before. Best keep it to yourself. All my boys are strong as bears. Ryan made it as a big-time architect in San Diego, Quaid’s off with the coast guard, still rescuing folks and still part badass from what I hear. Keefe never gave up on his dreams and made it on his own.” Rory nodded. “I like that you keep him on his toes, don’t get all moony-eyed over him being on TV and you don’t let him get away with anything.”

  “I think that works both ways.”

  Rory gave a soft laugh as he headed for the upstairs, Bonnie cradled lovingly in his arms. “I bet it does.”

  She wasn’t sure what that meant, but no matter what happened with her and Keefe she was going to help find Mimi. That mattered more than anything. If there was one thing Callie Cahill understood, it was family first no matter what it took.

  She headed for the kitchen, put the radio on a tray along with cold chicken, long necks and pretzels, then returned to the porch. She put the things on a wicker side table and plugged in the radio.

  Keefe came over and said, “I’ll get the oldies station on. Those songs are easier to dance to.” He flipped through the stations till he found Elton John singing about feeling the love tonight. “That’ll do.”

  Keefe stood and took Digger in a traditional dance position. Digger’s eyes rounded. “Uh, what are we doing?” Digger squirmed and gave a quick look around. “Hey, man, if anyone sees us like this ...”

  “Don’t worry, you’re not my type. Max is sworn to secrecy, and this was Callie’s idea, so she’s safe. Stand straight, shoulders back and hold your partner tight like you mean it, not like some sissy.”

  Keefe did those things with Digger and added, “You lead with your hands.” He glanced at Callie. “A man always leads with his hands. The pressure tells which way your partner is to go and how fast or slow to move. It sets the rhythm.” He directed his gaze to Callie again. “Right?”

  Pressure? Fast? Slow? Rhythm? The man was not talking dancing here.

  Keefe said to Digger, “Step in a box pattern; it’s the basic move in a slow dance. Basic moves are good, but variations and innovations are interesting, too.” He cut his gaze to Callie again. “Don’t you agree?”

  And doing the deed in the school gym was about as innovative as it got.

  “How do you know all this?” Digger asked as his feet tried to follow Keefe’s. “Guess that’s a dumb question since you’re a ladies’ man living in New York.”

  “The ladies’ man part is the press talking. I learned to dance at an Arthur Murray’s studio. When Sins and Secrets announced auditions for Lex they wanted someone who could dance. I’d been without a job for so long, I would have learned to fly if that’s what they needed. I was broke, so I made a deal with the dance instructor. I’d be a partner for the older women in the class and get the lessons free. Those gals could outdance me anytime, and when I got the job of Lex they gave me a party and started my fan club. Really helped my career. They were great.”

  Digger stepped on Keefe’s foot for the third time, then pulled away. “I’m not one of the old ladies. I can’t do this, Keefe. I can’t get everything to move together. My feet go one way, my shoulders the other way.” He looked at Callie. “It might help if you two show me how it’s done.”

  Callie nearly swallowed her teeth but instead gave Digger her biggest smile. No way was she slipping into Keefe’s arms. It would be like walking into a minefield not knowing what to expect. Oh, nothing would happen with Digger here, but he would leave and then what? After all the suggestive comments and the promise of next time she could only imagine. “Keefe already knows how to dance, and so do I. Let’s concentrate on you.”

  Digger said, “Here’s what we’ll do; while Keefe dances I’ll stand behind him and copy the steps.”

  Keefe eyed Callie as Elvis sang about a cold Kentucky rain. She didn’t know which gave her more chills. He said, “It’s just a dance, Callie.”

  His eyes were dark as he took her firmly into his arms. Their bodies close but not touching, his warm breath on her face. A man in control who really did know how to dance. Too bad she wasn’t a woman in control. Bodies moved as one . . . like when they were in the gym. His thigh brushed hers; her hip touched his. Her body tingled, every nerve ending alive and wanting him more than ever.

  “Okay,” she said to Digger when the song ended, and she stepped away from Keefe, her body temperature close to that of the sun. “Your turn.” She slipped her hand into Digger’s and slapped his other hand around her waist. “Let’s count, sometimes that helps.”

  Faith Hill sang about a kiss, and dancing with Digger was like driving a semi that kept running over her toes. Least he wasn’t running over her heart, and if she got too close to Keefe, that just might happen.

  Keefe stood behind Digger, his hands on Digger’s shoulders directing his movements. “That’s better,” she said. “You’re starting to get the hang of it.”

  Keefe added, “Loosen up. Have fun. Dancing is all about having fun.”

  She had to get this misunderstanding straightened out with Keefe tonight. She’d tromped on his ego and hurt his feelings. She understood that. If he’d told her he’d imagined she was J-Lo in that gym, Callie wouldn’t have liked it much either. She didn’t mean to hurt him so much as put space between them. Well, that sure didn’t happen. All it did was make him determined, and a determined Keefe O’Fallon with sex on his mind had only one place to go.

  She and Keefe took turns dancing with Digger till the beers were gone a
nd the oldies station turned into some midnight talk show where people called in about the problems they had with their love lives. Did relationships have to be so darn stressful, that they even had radio shows about it. Maybe she should call in. Couldn’t be any worse advice than the mess she’d gotten herself into.

  Digger snagged a handful of pretzels and sat on the porch railing. “You guys have done worn me out. If I can’t dance now, it’s never going to happen.”

  Keefe said, “Keep it simple and throw in some turns and dips as you feel more comfortable with Georgette.”

  Callie sat in the swing and tucked her legs under her as she nibbled a pretzel. She said to Digger, “So, are you going to ask her out or is all this for nothing?”

  Digger swiped his forehead. “If I want the Lee worked on, I don’t have much choice.” He glanced from Callie to Keefe. “That was a hint, you guys. Are you two coming to help me paint?”

  Keefe grinned. “It’s a deal. You lay on the charm and that’ll get Georgette off my back. I’ll write you a check so you can get what you need.”

  Digger said, “There is a little problem. What if I crash and burn. What if Georgette won’t go with me? Then what happens?”

  “Then I pay you for trying, and we still help.” He looked at Callie, who nodded in agreement. Keefe added, “I got some new clothes I bought before I left New York. You can have them. Too bad Conrad Hastings sold off his Ferrari or you could borrow it and really wow her.”

  “I got an old Harley I’ve been working on. What about that?”

  Keefe grinned. “Perfect. The woman wears poison green spandex that probably glows in the dark. She’s got to have some fun in her somewhere. Bet she’ll jump at a Hog. I’ll go get those clothes.”

  Keefe left, and Digger sat down next to Callie. “So, spill it. What’s with you and Keefe? I feel like I’ve been dancing on eggs all night and it has nothing to do with my two left feet.”