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
