Irresistible Knight Page 6

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  Chapter Four

  Taylor had never been in a situation like this. She attempted to cover her embarrassment with a smile.

  “No luck, huh? How about a check?”

  Taylor thought about it already, but if she couldn't use the debit card that meant her checks would bounce. “No. No check.”

  The cashier gave her a pitying look. “So how are we paying today?”

  “I guess we are not paying today.” What am I going to do now? If she knew this would happen, she could have kept her heels. “I ran out of cash.” The truth was, she never carried cash in her wallet. Who does nowadays? She couldn't even remember the last time she saw a hundred dollar bill. Maybe she should try calling her bank. They must have made a mistake. Or so she hoped. “Let me call my bank. Do you mind if I wear these for now. I'll stand over here. I'm not running away.”

  “Fine with me. I don't think you could go anywhere with your foot wrapped like that.” The cashier grinned.

  “Thanks.”

  Drat. This was Jean's doing. He inactivated her account. She dialed the one-eight-hundred number at the back of the card. After pressing extension numbers one after another, she finally got a real live person to answer her. The bank representative who introduced himself as Allan spoke with a thick accent. She wouldn't be surprised if Allan worked in the call center located outside the country and his name wasn't really Allan. The man asked for her social security number, birth date and a zip code, and then put her on hold. When he came back on the line, he apologized for the wait. Nice, Taylor thought. Yet, what the man said next made her grit her teeth. The account was frozen. She didn't have to ask the questions. It was clear—she was freaking broke. Thanks to her father.

  “Shit. God damn it. Freaking freak!” She hung up her phone. Well nothing left to do here. She removed the slippers and placed them on the counter. “Well, I'm returning the flip-flops.”

  “Why? You don't like the color?”

  Taylor turned around. He was back. And why did that make her want to shout for joy, despite her present predicament? Who the heck knew? He still wore his leather jacket, but she noticed through the hole, a white bandage covered his cut. “You had your cut taken care of.”

  “Yeah. So what's wrong with the flip-flops?”

  “She doesn't have money to pay. Her cards are cancelled. She called her bank, and then she said, shit, goddamn it, freaking freak. So I am assuming the bank account is cancelled, too,” the cashier explained.

  Taylor wanted to strangle the woman.

  “How much, Paige?” Bors reached in his back pocket and pulled out his brown leather worn wallet.

  “Oh, no. You are not paying.” She grabbed his arm. “I am not a pauper in need of your help. Here,” she tugged at her elegant ring with a row of alternating blue sapphire baguettes and glistening diamond quartets. The ring was a gift from Jean for her eighteenth birthday. “Take it, Paige, as collateral. I'll get some money and I'll be back.”

  Paige's eyes were huge in awe. “Wow. I would take that if I could. That must have cost a thousand bucks.”

  Taylor wanted to correct her. The ring had cost Jean at least fifteen grand to have it made ... but that would be bragging. “It definitely cost more than a pair of flip-flops.”

  “Sure, but this isn't a pawnshop. There is one around though.”

  “Wear your ring. I don't think of you as a pauper, Teejay.” He took the flip-flops from Taylor's hands, then bent down to help her put them on. “Put these on.”

  “Bors,” she sighed his name.

  “Teejay,” Bors replied with a grin. His warm large hand wrapped around her ankle and caressed it with a command.

  Left with no choice, she slipped her feet into the soft cushion of the flip-flops. “Thanks.” Taylor felt like Cinderella. She would have found the situation romantic if the circumstances were different.

  “Come on.” Bors gave the money to Paige before taking Taylor's arm to lead her outside the pharmacy.

  “I'll pay you back.”

  “Consider it a gift.”

  “Thank you.”

  Bors nodded. “Where are you heading?”

  Good question. Before she left Seattle, she Googled the Orcas Islands. She saw the Oyster Bay Cottage, a private getaway and she hoped the last place Jean would look. Damn it! With her cards cancelled, how could she even stay in a Bates Motel? Jean knew she didn't have anywhere else to go, and by canceling her cards, he expected her to crawl back to his filthy home. Frustrated and feeling helpless, she felt icy fear twist around her heart.

  When she saw the opportunity to escape, she took it without thinking. What was she going to do now? She had nothing except for her purse. Tears welled within her eyes. Before they started flowing like the Niagara Falls, she swallowed back a sob. “Well, thanks for the rescue, Bors. I'll call a friend from here.” She lowered her violin case that seemed to double its weight.

  “You didn't answer my question.”

  “I'm going to my friend's cabin.” I wish.

  “You don't look happy at the prospect. And are those tears?”

  “No. Of course, I am going to see my friend. How about you? Don't you have a place to go? Women to chase?”

  Bors grinned. “That's what I'm doing right now.”

  “Funny.”

  “Your friend is from here?”

  “Here? Yes.”

  “I grew up on this island. I probably know him or her.”

  “Doubt it. She's new here, too. Well, good day, Bors. Thanks for the slippers.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes.” The look Bors gave her nearly undid her. It had been a long time since someone looked at her with concern in their eyes.

  “If your friend doesn't show up, call me.” He handed her a business card bearing two sets of cell phone numbers. “The first number is mine.”

  “And the second one?”

  “My supervisor's. Call either one, and you'll reach me.”

  Taylor stared at the card. It was simple. The numbers were embossed and printed in black ink, but no name, business name, fax number, or physical or website address. Odd, she thought. “Thank you.”

  “How about if I wait until your friend arrives?”

  “Oh, no. You'll end up waiting ... I mean, you don't have to. I'm good. You can go.”

  A G550 SUV Mercedes Benz, the exact kind Jean drove, pulled up to the curb. Taylor gasped, realizing with a shiver of panic that Jean had found her. Instinctively, she inched closer to Bors, then slowly moved toward his back. If Bors noticed her action, he didn't say a thing. He just stood there, looking at the car.

  * * * *

  Teejay surprised him by hiding behind his back, but he didn't show it. When she touched his jacket and he felt her tremble, he didn't move. Who did she think was in the driver's seat? And why did she hide? That little fact didn't sit well in his stomach. No woman should feel fear for her safety or her life.

  Not perfectly clear, but little things made sense now. First, her broken heel, her pale face when she checked her cell phone, and lack of money. For a woman wearing expensive jewelry who evidently shopped at Barney's New York instead of JC Penny's, it was confounding the she didn't have money in her bank or three dollars in her purse. It was obvious. She was running from someone.

  Bors reached behind him to hold Teejay's fisted hand. He gave her a reassuring squeeze, but didn't let go. He wanted to let her know that it was okay. Damn it, who is after her?

  “Teejay, I know the driver,” he said without looking at her. Teejay didn't say anything. He wasn't sure if she heard him.

  The driver got out of the car. “Damn, bro, you look horrible. Aren't you tired of sleeping in a dumpster?” Gawain sauntered toward them with a grin on his face and angled his head, trying to see who was behind him.

  “Glad to see you, too, Gawain. Shouldn't you park your car in the parking lot? You're blocking the shoppers.” Bors felt Teejay's hold on him loosen and her hand relaxed beneath his pal
m. Still he didn't let go.

  “Who's going to arrest me? You? Fuckin’ eh, you rank.” Gawain punched his shoulder.

  “You owe the jar a dollar. What are you doing in town?”

  “Bors, it's Friday. I always come home every Friday afternoon. Unlike you and Percy, I have no excuse not to come home. And Mom's big six-o is on Sunday. Or you forgot?” Gawain raised his brows in silent question.

  Damn. How could he forget his mother's birthday? Simms said he'd be here Sunday—to attend the party. Sleep deprivation had been eating his brain away. Maybe he should take Simms's advice and take a nap.

  Teejay tugged her hand. He stepped aside to reveal her to Gawain. “Gawain, this is Teejay. My brother, Gawain.”

  Visible relief was obvious on Teejay's face as she looked at Gawain and then she broke into an open, enchanting smile. “Hello, Gawain.”

  “Please to meet you, Teejay. I didn't know my brother was acquainted with the goddess Venus.”

  “You mean a goddess that was tossed out of Olympus and landed in the garbage dump?” Teejay looked at him. “That was how your brother described me.”

  Gawain shook his head. “Don't mind him. He's not use to facing beautiful women when he's sober and outside the realm of bedrooms. Simply clueless.”

  “Is that why he looks like he just won the contest, Stomp the Garbage?”

  Gawain let out a hoot of laughter. “Funny, Teejay.”

  Bors joined his brother. He threw back his head and let out his own laughter that grabbed the attention of shoppers. When he looked at Teejay and caught her impish smile, he felt like basking under the afternoon sun. God, she was even lovelier when smiling, he thought. Those gorgeous green eyes met his own, sending blood rushing down to his cock like a waterfall.

  He felt uncomfortable due to his sudden erection and the fact that they were standing outside in broad daylight, where everyone could see the bulge in his pants. The urge to shift his cock so it wouldn't hurt too much was strong, but he couldn't very well do that so shifted his stance instead.

  Thanks to Gawain's cell phone, the ringtone made Teejay look away.

  “It's Mom. Excuse me,” Gawain winked at Teejay, which she returned in an exaggerated wink of her own. Gawain grinned, looked at Bors with his eyes lowering a fraction. A subtle hint.

  “Fuck.”

  Teejay's eyes watched him with a critical squint. “Your mouth is as dirty as you look.”

  “Sorry, goddess.”

  “Well, nice meeting you both, but I have to get going.”

  “Where are you—”

  “Wait, Teejay.” Gawain held up a finger. “Hello, Mom. Yeah he said the F word. We're both in town. Julie met her, too, huh. Better believe it. First impression, Mom. I got the grocery list. Love you, too. I'll see you in a few.” He thrust the phone at Bors. “Mom wants to talk to you. You're in big trouble.” He said the last sentence in a singsong tone like a child.

  “Bro, you don't interrupt a conversation by raising a finger. Walk away and talk on your cell.”

  “But it's Mom. And she heard you.” To Teejay, he said, “We each have a curse jar at home. We pay fifty cents each time we cuss. Bors's is always full. He's the badass one in the family. Better stay away from him. I'm the cool one. Better stick with me.”

  Teejay laughed, shaking her head.

  Bors glared at his brother before taking the cell phone from him. He made a mental note to rearrange his brother's face later. Freakin’ ass had to tell Teejay about his curse jar. He could at least wait until Teejay had gotten to know him. With the cell phone to his ear, he looked at Teejay. Yeah, he wanted her to know him and vice versa.

  His mother's sigh on the other line took his gaze off Teejay. “Hey, Mom. How are you? Good. Yeah. I'll be home in a few. I'll try, Mom. Just today.” Gawain was keeping Teejay company, making her laugh. But he could see her eyes scanning the parking lot, watching people coming. “Mom, I'm fine. No. Tristan did a good job. I love you, too.” He handed the phone back to Gawain. “Thanks.”

  “Well, hope to see you again, Teejay,” Gawain said. It was a statement, not a question.

  “Same here, Gawain,”

  “Wait, our mom's birthday is on Sunday. You're invited to come.”

  “Thank you, but—”

  “Don't worry, we don't bite. I'll see you home, ugly face,” Gawain hit Bors's shoulder with his and went inside the store.

  It was a childish gesture none of the Knight brothers’ outgrew. Bors faced Teejay. Her brows arched up. “Where exactly are you going?”

  “My destination is none of your concern.”

  “Uh-huh. How you hurt your foot is not my concern also, right.”

  “You know, I really don't know why you're wasting your time with me. It's nice of you to ask and keep me company, but I believe it's time for us to part. I have important things to attend to right now.”

  “Such as?”

  “Oh, my God! You are one nosy troll.”

  “Only when I believe it's necessary.”

  “We hardly know each other, and if you haven't noticed, we are not in a bar chit-chatting and getting acquainted.”

  “Tell me if I'm wrong. You don't have a destination, no friend to call, and someone's after you.” Teejay's eyes lowered and her face lost a bit of its color. If all suspects were this easy to read, his job would be a hell of a lot easier.

  “What are you, a detective?” Teejay let out a deep sigh that bespoke tiredness and a heavy load she was carrying. “No one is after me. Look, I really appreciate your concern, but I don't need your help.”

  Bors nodded. Even he knew when to concede. “We have a spare room at my parents’ house. If you need a place to stay, that is. Bluff Road. Call a cab. My parents’ home is right at the end of the street. Easy to find. Or you can call me. If you rather that I call you...”

  “Thank you. I have your card.”

  This was the first for him, too. Women never hesitated to give him their phone number. Damn, he must be losing his charm. “Take care, Teejay.”

  * * * *

  Take his offer, Taylor. You have no money, no place to stay, and he is so ... deliciously handsome.

  Taylor shook her head. Perhaps Bors's intention was good. But how would she know? All her life she learned that men never offer anything without expecting in return. Why would Bors offer his help when they didn't even know anything about each other? But then she heard him say love you to his mom. She liked his brother, too, who also possessed charm. But...

  Damn buts.

  Skeptical, cynical, and ambivalent about her life. Young women her age already had their own family, raising wild kids. What did she have? Nothing. Because she was raised under the shadow of mighty Congressman Jean and didn't have enough sunshine to grow. Unbelievable. So this was the result of living with Jean. Not only didn't she trust anyone, but was also unsure how to give it and when.

  She really must solve her problem with Jean so she could start planning, building her future, and learn to live life without restrictions.

  Taylor watched Bors's car peel out of the parking lot and disappear around the corner. What a guy. He looked like a villain in his scraggly dirty look but diffused warmth and ... friendliness. The sound of her cell phone brought her back to her present predicament. Afraid it was Jean calling, she decided to ignore it.

  She spotted a pawnshop beside Baskin and Robbins store and contemplated whether to pawn her ring or earrings when someone tapped her shoulder. Taylor screeched, then bolted.

  “Teejay, it's me.”

  Taylor turned around to find Gawain frowning at her. “Gawain. It's you.”

  “Sorry. You're a scaredy-cat. Did my brother leave?”

  “With stubborn reluctance.”

  “Anyone would feel the same way, leaving a beautiful woman like you. Are you sure you don't need a ride?”

  Taylor nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Okay, I'll see you Sunday.”

  He didn't give her a chanc
e to say no. He quickly walked to his car, hopped in, waved goodbye, then peeled away.

  If I don't show up, they'll probably forget that they invited me. Turning her ring around her finger, she picked up her violin case and walked toward Ali's Jewelry Repair and Pawnshop.

  Oyster Bay Cottage was everything she expected it to be. Tucked away in a wooded, waterfront site, it was a lovely two bedroom, two-bath cottage style home. The wood and beamed ceilings and hardwood floors gave it a warm comfortable feeling. The thirty-foot-long, all glass sunroom highlighted the dramatic view of Mt. Baker and the nearby islands. Furnished in an antique style, with a king bed in the master bedroom and two twin beds in the guest bedroom, as well as a double bed futon couch in the sunroom, it made the rooms look so romantic.

  It had a fully equipped kitchen, large dining area, and a wood stove/fireplace in the living room. At the back of the house, she found a private access to the beach where a small boat moored at the dock. Perfect. Except it was too pricey. The money she got from pawning her ring would only go as far as three days rent. After that, she would have to pawn some more jewelry. Not good. How was she going to live like this?

  She must act quickly. Contact the judge to help her before her money ran out. What a predicament.

  Taylor opened the glass door and walked out to the balcony. A crisp summer breeze blew, caressing her skin. Thick and towering forest of giant evergreen trees ensconced in shaggy moss danced ever so slowly. Lodge pole pine, rocky mountain juniper, Garry oak, and Douglas fir trees were just a few of the larger forest species that she recognized. The Olympic Mountains, so green and majestic, offered a startling vista.

  Linda said they played a major influence on weather patterns in western Washington, and the San Juan Islands in particular. Most oceanic weather fronts approach the state from the southwest and the Olympic Mountains served as a barrier, which forced the warm moist air to rise, cool, and form precipitation, leaving the clouds dry creating less moisture in the San Juan Islands. No wonder tourists flocked the islands all year long. The weather here was more akin to a desert than the temperate Seattle and Bellingham.

  Washington States wet reputation didn't fit the Orcas Islands. It rained less here compared to the west side of the Olympic Peninsula.