She was still giggling intermittently and wiping at her eyes when a familiar face appeared at her door. Carly tried for a frown, but it didn’t seem to be working.
Sensing a favorable atmosphere, Regan opened the door and stepped in. Her eyebrows rose at Carly’s appearance, which, Carly figured, was probably slightly deranged.
“Oh no,” Carly managed, pointing at her. “Uh-uh. You’re banished.”
Regan winced. “He told you it was me, huh?”
“No, I recognized the clothes, eventually. Dave, right? I used to think he slept in that shirt. And for the record, it is so weird that you have a closet full of ex-boyfriend clothes at your house.”
Regan shrugged and looked unrepentant. “I always mean to burn them. I just never seem to get around to it.”
“Pack rat. You’re lucky you have that huge house to squirrel stuff away in. Now begone. You have no power here.” Carly knew her stern face was failing miserably. She also knew she was defeated utterly when Regan held out the familiar brown box tied with pink ribbon, Decadence stamped across the top in pink foil.
“Damn. Does German chocolate cheesecake still have power here, then?”
Carly tried to resist. For roughly three seconds. She looked balefully at Regan and sighed, holding out her hand. “Do I have to writhe around and howl that I’m melting, or can I just eat the cake and shut up about it?”
Regan grinned, walked over, and handed the box to Carly. “I’m on board with the latter if you are. So,” she craned her head over Carly’s shoulder, obviously canvassing the shop, “should I not have bothered taking pity on him, or was I right, as usual?”
Carly snorted as she lifted the top of the box and inhaled. “Ahh, chocolate. Regan, you’re neither comatose nor stupid, and you would have to be one or the other not to know he was here all day. Which doesn’t make you ‘right as usual.’ It makes you ‘possibly not completely wrong,’ and also a pain in my ass. And that is as usual.”
“And you know you love me.” She leaned against the counter while Carly drooled over the cheesecake.
“Actually, I just use you for baked goods.” Carly glanced up, smiled sweetly. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured that out yet.” Regan just laughed, stopping abruptly when the sound of something large and heavy hitting the floor erupted from the back room.
“Jesus, did you chain him up back there or something?”
Carly turned her head, studied the curtained doorway intently for a moment, and shook her head. “I think he might be reorganizing my stockroom. Onto the floor. I’m not sure working at a romantic bookshop agrees with him.”
Regan frowned in the same direction. “Get felt up, did he?”
“Apparently. And Lizziebeth was in here driving him crazy for at least half an hour. I’m pretty sure she was one of the main culprits.”
“That bitch!” Regan was plainly delighted. “Someone should have gotten it on video, sent it to that fish-lipped husband of hers. Then again, I think continuing to have to crawl into bed with that every night is probably punishment enough.” She made an icky face and stuck out her tongue. Then her look turned serious.
“So listen. When I said you needed some adventure in your life, I didn’t mean you should, you know, go all out and find a werewolf with a homicidal maniac after him to sleep with.”
Carly eyed her as she straightened up the counter, surprised. “Well. Someone got awfully chatty this morning. FYI, I’m not sleeping with him. And are you trying to absolve yourself of guilt for telling me I should?”
“No,” sighed Regan. “No, I have lots of guilt. There are plenty more German chocolate cheesecakes coming to you in the future. But honestly, Carly … what were the chances?”
“Zero, unless you’re me, probably,” Carly replied with a mirthless little laugh. Regan just continued to look unhappy. “Oh, Regan, babe,” she consoled her, patting her shoulder, “this is so not your fault, cosmically or otherwise. I let him in. I let him stay after I knew what he was. I own it.”
“I still think maybe I caused this by wishing for you too hard. God got drunk. My wishes exploded on you. That would be my luck.”
“Nah,” Carly replied, inhaling the promising aroma of her Guilt Cheesecake. “Actually, as things stand, I’m glad you helped him out. Apparently I’m going to be needing a bodyguard.”
“Bastard,” grumbled Regan, although it was, in Carly’s opinion, a little half-hearted. “Getting you into this. I told him, if you get hurt, I’m going to kill him. I don’t care how much he annoys you, Carly. You let him stick to you until he sorts this weird family issue out.”
“Don’t worry about that part of it. I’m a little freaked out … hell, who am I kidding, I’m terrified … so I want nothing more than Gideon MacInnes, twenty-four-seven, until this is over.” And oh, you don’t even know the half of that, she added mentally. “Anyway,” Carly murmured quietly, “he doesn’t really annoy me all that much.”
“Uh-huh.” Regan’s tone indicated she had a lot of thoughts on that, which she would, out of deference to the urgency of the situation, save to air out later. Carly was grateful. She’d had enough introspection for one day.
“He said he’ll protect me until this is over. I actually think I believe him. Not that I’ve got a lot of reason to, I suppose. But then I can’t see that I have a lot of choice.” Which could be said about a lot of things that had happened to her in the last twenty-four hours, Carly thought with a tiny twinge of resentment, but she fought it back. What she had told Regan was true, after all. She had taken him in. She’d let him stay. And good, bad, or indifferent, she was in a mess of her own making.
“Well, I wouldn’t mess with him.” Regan’s smile turned wicked. “That way, anyway. In the other, more preferable ways, I’m not lucky enough to have the choice. Unlike some other people I know.”
“And back to the gutter we go. Regan,” Carly sighed as she began taking the money out of the register for the night, “I appreciate the obsession with my sex life. I think, anyway. But honestly, if I come out of this in one piece, I will be completely satisfied.”
Almost.
Before Regan could open her mouth to argue, there was another loud thump from the stockroom, accompanied by a curse that was just slightly louder. Both heads swiveled back in that direction, and Carly wondered exactly how much fun he was going to be on the walk home. If she talked to him, would he toss her into a snow bank? Regan straightened, and Carly knew immediately she was being deserted.
“Well,” she said as she started to back toward the door, “I can see my work here is done. You two enjoy your evening. Call me if you need anything.”
“Oh, uh-uh. You just wait a damn minute.” Carly put her hands on her hips and faced her. “Considering,” she began, to the sound of another muttered oath from the back, “that the renewal of this little partnership is mostly your doing, I would think at least a ride home is in order.”
There was a twist of her lips, a narrowing of her eyes. “I hope, if I agree, that you’ll consider transporting you and your charming werewolf friend full payment of my debt. Because I don’t care what kind of a mood he’s in, I’m not going to be happy if he chews up my leather.”
“Done.” She looked around, decided there was nothing left that couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning. Which was, at the moment, too bad. Being able to stall a little longer might make her at least a little less apprehensive about going back to get Gideon, much less taking him home for the night.
“All right, then. I’ll go warm up the van, wait for you out there.” Regan started for the door, then stopped, shook her head, and turned back. “Look, I know this is only marginally my business, but would you please take a little advice from the expert on failed relationships?”
Carly sealed the deposit bag, locked up the cash register. “If you tell me to jump in bed with him one more time, I’m going to smack you.”
“Nope, not this time. I think I’ve said my piece on that.” She smiled, but the look in her dark eyes was serious. “And minus the Dr. Drew stuff, all I’ve got for you is this: chances are, in a few days, tops, he’s out of here. You just might want to let him know how you feel about him before it’s too late.” She held up her hands.
“Just my not-so-humble opinion, for what it’s worth. I’ll be out in the car.”
And, Regan being Regan, she was out the door before Carly could even begin to formulate a reply, leaving her to stew in her own juices. Naturally, she’d hummed the appropriate ABBA song as the door shut behind her: “Take a Chance on Me.” With Regan, it was always disco.
Carly shook her head a little. They were from totally different worlds. They lived thousands of miles apart. They weren’t even exactly the same species, for God’s sake!
And she knew, as she sighed softly and moved around the counter to grab her coat, that she wouldn’t be able to get it out of her head. Regan was right about a couple of things, after all. She wanted him. He wanted her. Maybe, despite everything else, it was just that simple.
And maybe, whether it was or not, it was time for her to quit tiptoeing around it, to go against her instincts. Sometimes, it felt as though she’d been waiting her whole life for something to happen. But if she was really falling as hard and fast for Gideon as she suspected, waiting around wasn’t going to do it, not if the fates had decided to pair up Mr. Stubborn with Miss Inertia. So she would give it a push, or possibly, because this was Gideon she was dealing with, a massive shove, and see how things looked when the dust cleared.
It could, Carly knew, be the biggest mistake of her life. She was no psychic. But she did know one thing.
Stirring up that dust was going to be an experience she’d never forget.
