The Man Next Door
“I can try to help you, Mrs. Parsons, but if it’s very heavy, we’ll have to find someone else to help. The maintenance guy, maybe.”
Mrs. Parsons nodded. “I think we can manage it. It’s just a matter of getting it started in the right direction.”
Still skeptical, having seen the woman’s heavy furnishings, Dani followed her neighbor to the apartment next door.
Teague was rather pleased with himself when he walked across his living room an hour after he’d arrived home, headed again for the door. His hair was still wet from his shower, and he’d donned a plain white shirt and jeans, nothing fancy for tonight. He’d considered staying in once he’d gotten there, thinking an evening of crashing in front of the TV with a sandwich and a beer sounded pretty good after such a strenuous couple of months on the job. Instead, he’d talked himself into going to meet Mike. He’d gulped the sandwich, substituted soda for beer and then made himself change and shave for an evening out.
He was too young—and too sexually deprived—to keep living like some sort of workaholic monk. When riding an elevator with his uppity-but-good-looking neighbor was the high point of his social life, it was definitely time to do something drastic. He supposed hanging out with his friend in a singles’ club, hoping to meet someone interested in a no-strings evening of fun, was better than nothing. Marginally.
Still, he couldn’t help being amused by the way Dani had looked when he’d walked away from her in the hallway. He’d known very well that she’d more than half expected him to ask her to join him at the club he’d mentioned. When he hadn’t asked—when he had, instead, walked away as if doing so had never even crossed his mind—she’d been more than a little piqued, despite her efforts not to let her reactions show.
Now that had been fun.
He suspected it was past time someone rattled the princess a little. Showed her not all men were eager lap puppies hoping for a crumb of attention from her.
He was just reaching for his keys when someone suddenly pounded on the other side of his door.
“Teague? Mr. McCauley? Are you there? We need your help!”
Dani, he thought immediately, all but leaping for the door. What the…?
She stood in the hallway, her dark-blue eyes wide, her long brown hair tumbled around her shoulders. “We need your help,” she said.
And despite everything he had thought about her earlier, he merely nodded and followed as she turned to rush away.
Chapter Two
Rather than leading Teague to her apartment, as he had expected, Dani rushed to Mrs. Parsons’s open door across the hall from him. Following, he stopped in the doorway, looking in amazement at the mess inside. “What on earth happened here?”
Wondering why he hadn’t heard the crash—he must have still been in the shower when it happened—he scanned the room from the heavy bookcase lying facedown on the floor to the broken knick-knacks scattered across the carpet. A fragile-looking straight-backed chair had been knocked over when the bookcase fell, and books and magazines were tumbled all around.
Mrs. Parsons stood in the middle of the chaos, wringing her hands. “I can’t even get to my bedroom,” she said. “The bookcase is blocking the door.”
“She wanted to move the bookcase a few inches to the left,” Dani explained in a low voice. “I tried to tell her it was too heavy, but she just grabbed it and pulled.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“No, thank goodness,” Mrs. Parsons said with a mixture of gratitude and sheepishness. “Dani pulled me out of the way just in time. I should have listened to her.”
“If you could just help me lift the bookcase so she can get to her bedroom, I’ll help her clean up the mess,” Dani said to Teague. “She and I can’t lift it by ourselves. We took everything off the shelves before we tried to move the case, but wouldn’t you know we set them on the floor right where it fell. There’s no telling what all is broken under there.”
Relieved that they were unharmed, he nodded. “Mrs. Parsons, stand over there, where you won’t be in any danger of being stepped on or bumped into. Dani and I can handle this.”
“All right. I’ll, um—I’ll make coffee,” she said, and bustled toward the kitchen before Teague could stop her.
“I’m sorry,” Dani said with an apologetic expression. “I know you have plans for this evening, but it scared me so much when the bookcase fell. I thought for sure it would land on her. Then afterward, I couldn’t think of anyone else to ask for help in lifting it.”
“Not a problem,” he assured her, kneeling to take one corner of the heavy oak case. “Can you handle that side? Just to keep it steady while I lift.”
She nodded. “Right here?”
“Yeah. Lift with your knees. You don’t want to hurt your back.”
“I know.”
The princess obviously didn’t like being given instructions, even for her own good, he thought, judging by her rather curt tone.
With Teague doing most of the heavy lifting, they managed to set the case upright. “Where do you want it, Mrs. Parsons?” he asked. “I’ll slide it into place for you.”
“Right there,” she said, coming back into the room to point to a position half a foot down the wall from where the case stood now. “Just far enough so I can set this chair beside it.”
He placed his shoulder against the end of the bookcase and shoved, bracing the front with one hand so that there wouldn’t be a repeat of the earlier catastrophe. “There?”
“Just a little more.”
Seeing Dani’s expression of sympathy, he smiled and pushed again.
“Right there,” Mrs. Parsons said in satisfaction. “That’s just right. Oh, dear, look at this mess.”
“I hope nothing too valuable was broken,” Teague said, reaching down to pick up a porcelain poodle that had been snapped neatly in half.
“Thank you, dear, but most of it is just stuff I’ve picked up here and there. Junk, really.”
Noting the regret in her eyes when she picked up the pieces of a porcelain rose, he said gently, “It doesn’t look like junk to me. I would guess these were things you treasured.”
She blinked rapidly, then turned toward the kitchen. “The coffee should be ready. I’ll pour. Just leave those things, Dani. I’ll put everything in order later. Come have coffee. And I have snickerdoodles. I made them myself.”
“I’d love to have coffee and cookies with you,” Dani said, placing unbroken curios on the shelves of the bookcase. “But Mr. McCauley has plans for the evening.”
“I always have time for cookies,” Teague corrected her on an impulse, following the women into the kitchen. “And the name’s Teague, by the way.”
“Oh, this is nice.” Mrs. Parsons beamed as she set a heaping serving plate on the table and pulled three mugs from a wooden mug tree. “I don’t have company very often.”
Thinking of the near disaster that had precipitated this impromptu visit, Teague felt a little guilty that he hadn’t made more of an effort to speak to his obviously lonely neighbor when he passed her in the hallway. “I don’t have homemade snickerdoodles very often,” he said, putting two of the cinnamony cookies on the flowery dessert plate she’d set in front of him. “This is a real treat for me.”
Dani had taken only one of the cookies for herself. She poured a drop of cream into her coffee. “I was just here last Monday, Mrs. Parsons,” she reminded the older woman. “We had pecan pie when I helped you bring your groceries in, remember?”
“Oh, yes. We had a lovely visit, didn’t we? I told you all about that nice young single man who goes to my church. You really should let me introduce you, Dani. I think you’d like him.”
Looking a little embarrassed, Dani studiously avoided Teague’s eyes. “Thank you, but as I told you then, I really don’t have time to meet anyone new right now. Between work and classes, I have very little free time for socializing.”
“Oh, you’re too young to work all the time. That’s what I was telling Hannah yesterday when she brought a package up for me. She’s the young woman who moved in next door to you a few weeks ago, Teague. Have you met her yet?”
“No. I’ve seen her a couple of times, but we haven’t introduced ourselves yet.”
“She’s a first-year medical student. All she does is study, study, study.” Mrs. Parsons shook her head in disapproval. “She’s only twenty-six and she keeps her head buried in those books. I told her she needed to take a little time to enjoy her youth while she has it, but she just smiled and said she would take time to enjoy life after she gets her degree. Just like you, Dani. You girls and your ambitions—there’s more to life than careers, you know.”
“What are you studying, Dani?” Teague asked.
She took a sip of her coffee, then set her mug down as she replied. “I’m taking music education classes at UALR. Minoring in psychology.”
“Yeah? We have something in common. I have a business administration degree from UT, but I also minored in psych. Always thought it was really interesting.”
“University of Texas?” Mrs. Parsons asked.
“Tennessee,” he corrected her.
She shook her gray head in disapproval. “Oh, goodness. You’re a Vol?”
He chuckled, remembering the red porcelain razorback figurine that had survived the crash in her living room. “Yes, ma’am. I guess you’re a UA fan?”
“Oh, yes. I never miss watching the Razorbacks when they’re on the TV. But I won’t hold it against you,” she assured him magnanimously.
He laughed. “I appreciate it.”
He turned back to Dani. “You said you have a job in addition to taking classes. What do you do?”
“I teach piano lessons.”
“She teaches six days a week,” Mrs. Parsons expanded. “She has so many students that she’s had to put some on a waiting list—and she’s only been teaching here for a year.”
“You must be very good,” Teague murmured, studying Dani over the rim of his coffee mug.
Her left eyebrow rose a quarter of an inch. “I’m very good,” she replied coolly.
He nearly choked on his coffee.
“The girls aren’t the only ones who work all the time,” Mrs. Parsons continued, apparently oblivious to any undercurrents between her guests. She pointed an arthritis-crooked finger at Teague. “Your hours are grueling. Doesn’t the FBI allow its agents to get any rest?”
Forcing his attention away from Dani, he smiled at the older woman. “Rest hasn’t been high on the priority list lately. But don’t worry about that. I get enough.”
“Make sure you do. Good looks and good health don’t last forever, you know. You’re lucky to have both. You should take better care of yourself.”
Teague grinned and winked at Mrs. Parsons. “Thanks for the compliment—and the concern. I’ll keep your advice in mind.”
“You do that.”
Having delivered her recommendations, Mrs. Parsons moved on to another subject. She chattered about a new shopping center being built not far from their building, about a new tenant on the second floor who had an unusual number of facial piercings, about a feature story she’d heard on the television morning show she’d watched earlier and about her son, who’d sent her roses last week for no reason.
The woman certainly could talk, Teague thought in amusement. He and Dani could hardly get a word in edgewise. Not that Dani seemed to be making much of an effort to do so. Was she always so quiet, or was his presence putting a damper on her conversation?
Dani didn’t want to leave Mrs. Parsons to clean up her mess alone, but her neighbor seemed in no hurry to start picking up while Teague was there. In fact, Mrs. Parsons seemed to be enjoying having an attractive young man in her kitchen. If Dani wasn’t mistaken, the older woman was actually flirting a little, and Teague was lapping it up.
Hadn’t he said he had plans to go clubbing that evening? Wouldn’t he prefer flirting with women his own age rather than a giggling septuagenarian? Dani supposed it wasn’t so late that he couldn’t go to the club after leaving here, but he certainly seemed in no hurry to go.
Deciding she was going to have to take the initiative herself, she finally said, “I’ll help you pick up in the living room now, Mrs. Parsons. I’m sure Teague has plans for this evening.”
He shook his head. “Actually, I’ve decided to stay in for the rest of the evening. Maybe read or watch a little TV. I’ve had a long week, wouldn’t mind a rest.”
Dani frowned at him. “I thought you said you were meeting friends at a club.”
He gave her a bland smile. “It wasn’t a firm commitment. Just an option.”
“I hope I haven’t kept you away from your plans on a Saturday night,” Mrs. Parsons fretted.
Turning a warm smile in her direction, he shook his head again. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve enjoyed the cookies and the conversation. Let me help you clear your living room.”
“Absolutely not,” she insisted, including both of them in her refusal. “You’ve done enough. I’d like to take my time to go through everything and decide what I want to keep and what I need to throw away. I’ll do that myself.”
Though both protested, she ushered them out without listening to any further offers of assistance. “Good night,” she said, smiling at them before closing the door politely in their faces, leaving them standing in the hallway, staring at each other.
“Well,” Teague said, “that was interesting.”
Dani couldn’t help smiling. “I suppose. I’m sorry about your plans for the evening, though.”
He shrugged. “I’m not. I was making myself go, anyway. It seems to bother other people more than it does me that I’ve been working more than playing lately.”
Dani wrinkled her nose. “That sounds familiar.”
It seemed like someone was always nagging at her about working too hard these days. Teague would probably identify with that, but he could never appreciate the true irony of the situation in her case. In all of her life prior to moving to Little Rock over a year earlier, Dani had never been described as being overly industrious.
He studied her face. “Piano lessons, huh? Like, to kids?”
“Mostly children,” she agreed. “A few adults.”
“Where do you teach?”
“I rent a small studio not far from here.”
“How long until you get your degree from the university?”
“I’ll have my undergraduate degree in May. Next year I’ll start working toward my master’s degree.”
“And then what?”
Doubting that he was really all that interested in her future plans, she shrugged. “I’m sort of playing that by ear.”
She had ideas, but she had no intention of discussing them with Teague. Especially not out in the hallway. She turned toward her apartment. “Thank you again for helping us with the bookcase. Good night.”
“Dani.”
She looked over her shoulder. “Yes?”
Was he going to ask her out now? If so, her answer would be the same despite the relatively pleasant hour they’d just spent together. He might pretend to be a mild-mannered, senior-citizen-helping, cookie-eating workaholic, but all her senses warned her that this lean, strong, inscrutable FBI agent was a lot more complicated than he tried to appear. And if there was one thing Dani did not need in her life right now, it was another complicated relationship.
“You should get some rest. You look tired.”
“Um—” Once again, he’d managed to render her speechless, in addition to bruising the feminine ego she’d thought she’d gotten under control a long time ago. “I will,” she managed to say after a momentary hesitation.
Looking entirely too pleased with himself, he nodded and moved toward his own door.
Dani and Teague ran into each other several more times during the next two weeks as October faded into November. There were times when Dani wondered if he deliberately made that happen, but she found that rather hard to believe. Her schedule was as erratic and unpredictable as his own, so he couldn’t possibly know when she would be arriving or leaving. It was only coincidence that they saw each other more lately than they had in the past; after all, they lived only a few yards apart.
And it wasn’t as if he was interested in pursuing her, anyway, she reminded herself wryly. He’d had plenty of opportunities to ask her out, if he’d wanted, and he had pointedly let them pass by.
They arrived home at the same time on a wet, cold, early evening. The parking lot was undergoing a week of repairs, so they had to park farther away from the building entrance than usual. Dani had just climbed out of her SUV, protected from the downpour by her roomy umbrella, when she saw Teague close his car door, no umbrella in his hand.
“Duck under,” she called out to him, motioning with her free hand. “There’s room for us both.”
Grinning, he crowded beneath the umbrella, matching his steps to hers as they hurried toward their building. Standing water on the pavement splashed upward from their feet, drenching the bottoms of the jeans they both wore on this Saturday evening. Dani’s shoes were soaked through to her feet; she envied Teague the waterproof hiking boots she noted that he wore.
They were both laughing when they stumbled into the entryway. Water dripped from the umbrella and the parts of themselves that hadn’t been beneath it. Juggling her bag beneath her arm, Dani closed the umbrella, trying not to soak everything around her.
“Wow,” Teague said, pushing a hand through his damp hair. “It’s really coming down out there.”
“And it’s cold,” she added, shivering. “My toes are freezing.”
“You should have worn thicker shoes.”
“You’re right. I should have.”
“Thanks for the shelter,” he said, nodding toward the umbrella. “I was still damp from getting into my car at the office.”
She shivered again. “No problem. I think I’m going to hurry upstairs, change into dry clothes and have a cup of hot chocolate to try to get warm. I’m cold all the way to the bone.”
“Hot chocolate. With marshmallows?” he asked, his expression instantly wistful.
“Maybe.”
“Sounds good. My mom used to make hot chocolate with marshmallows for me on cold, rainy afternoons.”
Even though she knew full well she was being played, she gave in. Who’d have imagined this tough FBI agent would have perfected the art of puppy-dog eyes? “I suppose I could make two cups of hot chocolate—if you’d like one.”
His face lit up. “I’d love a cup, if it’s not too much trouble.”
She hoped she wouldn’t regret this moment of weakness. “Just give me time to change and it’ll be ready.”
He pressed the elevator button. “I’ll save you the discomfort of climbing stairs in squishy shoes.”
She chuckled when her shoes squished as she walked into the elevator. Wet footprints glistened on the tile floor behind her. “I appreciate it.”
He leaned against the back of the elevator, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re in a good mood today.”
“I guess.”
“Any particular reason?”
She shrugged. “It’s just been a good day.”
“Glad to hear it.”
The elevator opened on their floor and she sloshed out. “I’ll see you in a few minutes,” she said.
“I’m looking forward to it.” He moved toward his apartment, adding over his shoulder, “It’s been a long time since I’ve had hot chocolate.”
Dani smiled wryly as she walked into her apartment, kicking off her wet shoes the moment she was inside. Trust Teague to make sure she didn’t think it was her company he was anticipating so eagerly. It was the hot chocolate that excited him—with marshmallows, apparently.
Which reminded her, she hoped she had some, she thought, hurrying into her small kitchen. Fortunately, she did. She remembered now that she’d picked up a bag when she’d bought the ingredients for the hot chocolate. Figuring she wouldn’t have much time before he arrived, she moved into her bedroom to change out of her damp clothes.
Tossing the shirt and jeans she’d worn into the hamper, she stood in bra and panties in front of her closet, her hand hovering over the hangers. It annoyed her to realize how long it was taking her to make a decision. Why was she acting as if she were dressing for a date? This was just an impromptu cup of cocoa with a neighbor, nothing more.
Donning an old pair of jeans and a rather baggy navy sweater, she slipped her feet into warm, fuzzy pink slippers and tied her hair up in a careless ponytail. She didn’t think she could make the message any more clear that she was making no effort to attract him.
He tapped on her door just as she was preparing to pour the cocoa into two sturdy mugs. She opened the door to him, and noticed immediately that he looked as though he’d had a quick shower in the fifteen minutes since they’d separated. His hair had been damp before; it was even more so now, slicked back from his face in a style that actually looked good on him.
He hadn’t shaved, and that, along with the sideburns he wore, gave him a rugged, tough look that made her heart skip. For a fleeting moment she wished she’d taken a bit more care with her own appearance. And then she shook her head in annoyance, pointing out to herself that he wore jeans, a gray T-shirt and sneakers, as casual as she was herself. She’d have looked ridiculous had she dressed up for this. Not to mention that she had no reason to want to primp for him.
Teague sniffed the air. “I smell hot chocolate.”
She smiled in response to his eagerness. “It’s in the kitchen. I was just about to add the marshmallows.”
“I like lots of marshmallows.”
“Then come add your own.” She led him into the kitchen.
She couldn’t help laughing as she watched Teague stack marshmallows in his cup. “You aren’t going to be able to get to your drink.”
“Watch me,” he said with a grin, carrying the mug to the table. “I don’t suppose you have anything to eat to go with this? I skipped lunch, and I’m kind of hungry.”
He didn’t lack for nerve. She supposed that was a good thing for an FBI agent. “I could make you a sandwich.”
“That would be great, if it isn’t too much trouble.”
“It’s no trouble.” She watched him for a moment before moving toward the fridge. “How can you possibly drink that without getting a marshmallow mustache?”
He chuckled. “Talent. This is really good, Dani. Tastes just like I remember my mom making.”
She sipped her own as she pulled the makings for a turkey and Swiss sandwich from the fridge. “Is your mother still living?”
“No, she died when I was a kid. My dad remarried a few years later. He’s gone now, too, but I’ve stayed in contact with my stepmother.”
“Does she live in this area?”
He shook his head. “She’s in a retirement community in Florida. I get out to see her a couple of times a year. What about you? Is your family around here?”
“No, they all live in Atlanta.”
“I thought that was a Georgia accent I heard from you. Both your parents still living?”
Keeping her back to him, she swallowed hard. “My mother is. My dad died of a heart attack a few years ago.”
He must have heard the pain that she still couldn’t quite hide when she talked about her father.
“I’m sorry. It’s hard to lose them, isn’t it?”
Some people said that sort of thing almost routinely, not knowing what else to say. Because Teague had lost his parents, she took the quiet question the way he’d probably intended it. Literally. “Yes, very hard. Do you want mustard or mayo?”
“Mustard.”
“Lettuce?”
“Yes, please. Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“An older sister, newly married, no children yet, and a younger brother, a single college student. You?”
Chuckling at the concise efficiency of her reply, he shook his head. “No siblings.”
She set the sandwich and a handful of baked chips in front of him, noticing that he’d almost emptied his cocoa mug already. “Do you want something else to go with this? Cola? Iced tea?”
“Tea sounds good. Aren’t you eating?”
“Not right now. I had a late lunch with one of my piano students and her mother.”