Undercover with the Nanny Page 5

  Footsteps from the left brought his attention around, and he was face-to-face with Fernando Cabrera. His pulse galloped, and sweat broke out on the back of his neck, even though the mansion’s environs felt like a meat locker. Here was Ortiz’s right-hand man, and it was the moment of truth. Though they’d never met, Sawyer’s nerves still ramped into overdrive.

  “Mr. Hayes, I am so glad to meet you.”

  Cabrera reached out, and Sawyer took his hand in a firm shake. Their gazes met and held. Sawyer breathed through his nose evenly, slowed his spiking heart rate by sheer willpower. This man flew Ortiz wherever he wanted to go. He was privy to the cartel leader’s thoughts and plans. And his crimes. When they took Ortiz down, Cabrera would go with him.

  And then what would happen to Bobby? The young were always victims. That knowledge had Sawyer gripping Cabrera’s hand like a vise, and he forced himself to let go, to shape his grimacing mouth into a smile.

  “As am I, Mr. Cabrera. You have a great kid.”

  Cabrera nodded. He was near Sawyer’s own height of six feet, but thinner. His hair needed a cut, and his face a shave, but Sawyer could see the resemblance to Bobby in his features. The suit he wore probably cost more than Sawyer’s entire wardrobe, and looked fashionably rumpled. Women probably found his careless style attractive. Did Kate?

  The kid popped up beside his dad at that moment, and the obvious hero worship he had for his father shone through every feature of his face. Sawyer wanted to puke. He vowed then and there to attempt to cut a deal for Cabrera when everything went south. After all, he was only the pilot. If he led them to the head of the snake, perhaps the court would grant him some leniency. Sawyer would see what he could do. No kid deserved to grow up without a father. Not like he had.

  “Coach Hayes is coming over tomorrow after school, Dad.”

  Taking the cue, Sawyer broke into what he planned to work on with Bobby. Cabrera asked a few pertinent questions about hitting, and even pitching. Sawyer didn’t have to fake his enthusiasm at this point. He enjoyed baseball and coaching.

  He’d toyed with the idea of a career in teaching early on, until his dad was killed in the line of duty. That’s when Sawyer found his purpose in life, much to his mother’s dismay and fear. She’d never forgiven him for following in his father’s footsteps, though she put up a good front whenever he visited her.

  The hair on his arms rose, and the air warmed around him.

  “Mr. Cabrera, are you home for the evening?” It was Kate. She’d come up beside him and he’d known. He shoved aside the significance of that hyper-awareness and waited while her boss replied that, yes, he was.

  “Yay,” Bobby interrupted, tugging on his dad’s arm. “Maybe we could throw the ball outside.”

  “Perhaps, mijo,” Cabrera hedged. Sawyer had heard enough of those empty promises from his own overworked dad that he didn’t give Cabrera much credit for follow-through. Life sucked when you were a kid.

  “Because if you don’t mind, I’d like Coach Hayes to take me back to my car. It wouldn’t start earlier, and he said he could check it out.” This time she looked at Sawyer with raised brows, as if she half-expected him to renege.

  “That’s fine, Miss Munroe. I won’t require you anymore this evening. Let me know if you need transportation. I can rent you a car.”

  Well, wasn’t that a sweet deal, Sawyer thought as he said his goodbyes. It was too bad he hadn’t had a chance to place his bugs, but at least he’d gotten inside, seen the lay of the land, and met his mark.

  Kate thanked her boss, mussed up Bobby’s hair, and told him she would see him tomorrow.

  “Ready?” she asked as they moved toward the front door.

  Sawyer nodded. He hadn’t seen anything so far that said Kate and her boss were anything more than employee and employer. Finding out was first on his list, but was that in an official capacity or not? Hell, he didn’t know. He’d just get his ass in gear and get the job done. And the way to do that was sitting smack in front of him.

  Chapter Six

  How the hell did I get here?

  Kate looked around the Mexican restaurant with its brightly colored tablecloths and twinkling Christmas lights strung across the ceiling and asked herself why she’d said yes to Sawyer’s suggestion of dinner when she should have said no.

  Because he was just too damn engaging, and his looks set her hormones to buzzing like angry bees, that’s why.

  When they’d returned to the park, her car started right up, which was really weird. He’d told her to still get it checked out, and then surprised her by suggesting they get a bite to eat. Her brain had let her libido make the decision, so here she sat.

  As Sawyer returned to her, two margaritas in his large hands and those broad shoulders that stretched the Padres jersey to its limit, her pulse began to race and her breath grew stale in her lungs. That’s why you said yes, girl.

  He placed the drinks on the table and took a seat across from her. “This place looks like a piñata that’s ready to burst.”

  She couldn’t help but giggle at his fanciful description before sipping her margarita, enjoying the flavor as it coated the inside of her mouth.

  “So, Kate Munroe, what’s your story?” He took one of the menus the hostess had left with them and began turning the pages, though his attention remained on her without wavering. His green eyes twinkled, his tone of voice a rich velvet, gliding along her nerve-endings until they shimmered. She was sure he’d see them surrounding her body.

  She forced herself to sit still. Just because he had kind eyes and seemed genuinely interested, it wasn’t a green light for her to spill her woes. She didn’t know him well enough to divulge the sadness in her life. Nobody wanted to hear about her parents’ tragedy, or that she was digging her way out of debt and sleeping on a friend’s couch.

  She picked up the remaining menu even though she could recite its offerings. Holding it kept her hands busy and her focus off the masculine lips that had formed the question. She searched for a non-answer, one that would satisfy him without revealing the sad state of her existence.

  “There’s not much to tell. I’m living with my friend to save money for my own place.”

  “I imagine nannying isn’t too reliable.” He took a drink of his margarita. When she found herself tracking the way his tongue swiped over his lips afterward, she grabbed her drink and gulped, choking on the sting of alcohol as it hit the back of her throat. She replied while her eyes watered.

  “No, it isn’t. But I also do interior design. I just have to build up my clientele more before I can rent space.” Perfect. Short, and to the point.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  The waitress arrived to take their orders. Once they were alone again, Kate turned the conversation to him.

  “What about you? Besides the fact that you live next door to me and that I run into you everywhere I go, I don’t know anything more about you. Do you have family back in Texas?”

  “My mom lives in Fort Worth, where I grew up. My dad was a cop. He died on the job when I was young. A robbery gone wrong.” His gaze turned inward and frosty. Kate couldn’t suppress a shiver.

  “I’m sorry. That’s got to be tough. I imagine you two are close?”

  He shrugged, closing the menu while reaching for his margarita. “Not really. I moved to El Paso when I got this job. We talk on the phone some. She never really got over my dad’s death.” He took a long sip, meeting her eyes over the bell-shaped glass.

  She couldn’t imagine being so aloof about her parents. They were a part of her, and always would be. His vague answers told her his father’s death rested heavy on him. Maybe he resented growing up without a dad. Her long silence must have bothered him, because he added, “Besides, I travel a lot with this job. My home base is El Paso, but I move around a lot. Mom’s learned not to count on me for holidays.”

  Content to leave the touchy subject for now, she grinned and slanted another look at him. “So, no girlfriend ba
ck home? Wife?” She bit her lip and then quickly released it.

  “I’ve never been married, and I don’t have a girlfriend. Hell, if I did, I wouldn’t be planning on kissing you at the end of this date.”

  Kate’s head bounced up at his words. Her finger, which had been tracing the salty edge of her glass, dipped into the cold drink. She pulled it out and stuck it in her mouth, staring at Sawyer. He returned her gaze, wide-eyed with just a hint of challenge.

  She’d been fishing when she asked those leading questions; she’d be the first to admit it. But she hadn’t planned on pulling in that whopper of a reply. He was planning on kissing her? At the end of this…date, as he’d called it?

  The noise around them receded while his comment sank in. In seconds it was just the two of them, connected by the flare of desire his words incited. And that’s when she admitted the truth. If Sawyer Hayes initiated a kiss, she wouldn’t resist. There was no possible argument that would keep her from kissing him back.

  He was a magnet, drawing her nearer every time they shared a look or word, and she couldn’t lie to herself: she wanted to kiss him. She wanted to be kissed by him. She wanted the taste of him on her lips, so that she could pull up the memory after he left and relive it in excruciating detail.

  Her thoughts shocked her with their intensity, as did his bald statement. His words had pierced the armor that hid her emotions, and she was laid bare. Heat coursed through her, chased by desire. Misplaced desire.

  “I can see I’ve caught you off guard. I kind of took myself by surprise.” He looked a little dazed when she stopped worrying about her own feelings and studied him. Like he’d been planning to say something else. Should she be relieved or insulted at his words? A woman liked to think she was irresistible, after all. Definitely not as a mistake. Her conscience reminded her, again, that she was not in the market for a man, whether he meant his comment or not.

  “Forget I said anything. Sometimes my mouth engages before my brain—”

  “Shut up, Hayes.” His lips slammed together and her smile stretched wider. Something flared in the back of his eyes. Maybe he didn’t like being told what to do. Maybe he liked it too much and was uncomfortable because he did. Whatever the reason, it felt good to set him on his heels. In the short time she’d known him, she’d already learned he was way too sure of himself.

  At that moment, the waitress appeared with their food. Kate dropped her gaze first and thanked the server as she set their plates before them. The whole time, she was aware of Sawyer’s steady regard. Her skin prickled, and she resisted the urge to rub her arms. That would only serve as a signal that she was not immune to his presence, or his words. Only she needed to know that fact.

  Chapter Seven

  By the time their plates were removed and the dregs of their margaritas languished before them, Kate had refocused. He told her he wanted to kiss her, and then looked like he wished he’d never uttered the words. So, what? She’d given him an out by explaining it wasn’t any big deal, and he’d kept silent, an unspoken agreement if ever she heard one. But, again, so what? If he was having second thoughts, which his behavior suggested, then she’d go on with her life uninterrupted. Except, now that he’d said it, kissing Sawyer Hayes was the only thing she thought of doing.

  She sat back in her chair and downed the last of her margarita, placing the glass with great care on the table when she was through. He did likewise. At last, he spoke, drawing her gaze to his.

  “I’m attracted to you, Kate, and I think you’re attracted to me. I may have rushed it a bit by speaking my mind, and for that I apologize. I’ll just shake your hand at the end of tonight. But don’t tell me to forget what I said, or that you have, because that’s just BS.”

  In the growing silence, Kate tried to dredge up the indignation she was sure she should feel. Problem was, she found it more difficult not to stare at the masculine lips that had framed that autocratic reply. Damn him anyway, for setting her up to fantasizing about kissing him, over and over…

  He spoke again, this time leaning forward and resting his brawny forearms on the table. Strong arms that could hold her in place while he kissed her senseless… Stop thinking about him in romance novel terms, idiot. You’re shaking his hand. That’s all.

  “Now, on to safer subjects. Since you’re an interior designer, what would you do different to this place?”

  I’d put in a king size bed, right in the middle— What the hell? Where’d that thought come from? It had to be her overactive imagination and rioting hormones, which had been dormant for too long, apparently. She shouldn’t have gone off men cold turkey, because then this one wouldn’t be so damn tempting.

  Just drop the topic, or you’ll end up throwing yourself at him and begging for kisses. She glanced around the room, pretending to care about its garish fixtures, aware of his steady regard.

  “Hmm. First off, I’d make the chairs more comfortable, replace them with easy-clean cushions. This feels like an interrogation chair.”

  She sensed his attention, laser-sharp, upon her. She shifted on her uncomfortable seat under that ultra-focused regard. “I’d take down the family pictures and replace them with authentic Mexican art.” Against her will she warmed to her subject. Making over a restaurant would be exhilarating. People from all over would see her work. “The patio is cute, but the bar is too far from it. I would—”

  His hand dropped over hers on the table, halting her stream of words as the server came up with the bill, and Kate froze. Her arm tingled as if bees buzzed through her bloodstream from the contact. Her pause gave him the opportunity to take the receipt in his other hand.

  “Let’s split it,” she began, but he skewered her with his green gaze and shook his head.

  “No, Munroe. This is all on me. What kind of Southern gentleman would I be to allow the woman to pay her way?”

  “An evolved one?”

  “Ha.” He snorted. “Don’t try to insult my character. It won’t work.” He smiled as he pulled out cash from the wallet he’d withdrawn from his rear pocket. After he put some bills on the plastic tray (another thing she would replace), he raised his brows at her. “Ready?”

  She led the way outside with him close behind, near enough that the heat from his body warmed her back like a furnace. How could he say he was cold?

  Once they reached the sidewalk, he moved to her side. On the outside edge, like men of a generation ago had been taught to walk. She fought another urge to swoon.

  “Let’s take a walk,” he suggested, and she complied. The sky was overcast, masking the sunset with gray clouds, and the old-fashioned street lamps had come on. It was her favorite time of day, when tourists returned to their homes, leaving the beachside community to its residents, peaceful and quiet.

  Their shoulders brushed as they struck out down the sidewalk. Kate wracked her brain for conversation and decided it was time to find out what he did for a living. “Okay, so you know what I do, but you still haven’t told me what you do. What brings you here, Mr. Hayes, so far away from Big Sky Country?”

  His laugh reverberated through her body. What had she said that was so humorous?

  “Montana is Big Sky Country, Munroe. We’re the Lone Star State,” he said in the way a teacher would speak to a student.

  Oh, hell. She knew her face was glowing, but he seemed oblivious as he launched into his response.

  “I work for a large oil company that has satellite offices in San Diego. Most of my work can be done online and through emails, but every so often I have to go put a face with the correspondence. This is one of those times.”

  He still hadn’t told her what he did. She shot him a sideways look and couldn’t help but smile as she asked, “Are you one of those guys who go around canning people the company no longer needs?”

  “A hatchet man? Naw. I don’t think I could do that to moms and dads or grandparents. I may seem tough on the outside, but I’m really just a cream puff at heart.”

  Kate gr
unted, not sure she agreed with his description. For all his “good ole boy” Southern manners, she had a feeling Sawyer Hayes could be quite an adversary in the boardroom or on the street. And it wasn’t just his rugged good looks. He gave off a bit of a badass vibe that was more intriguing to her than she wanted to admit.

  “Well, cream puff, did you leave room for ice cream?” She led them toward the corner sweet shop that carried ice cream and gourmet chocolates.

  He shot her a horrified look. “Are you serious? It must be, like, forty degrees out here. I live in the desert for a reason.”

  “I had no idea you were such a whiner, Hayes. C’mon. I can get an ice cream cone in here, and you can get some—”

  “Careful, Munroe. Don’t go attacking my masculinity.”

  “Touchy, aren’t you? I was going to say hot chocolate.” She giggled as he muttered “I bet,” taking her arm and leading them into the store she indicated. While she got a single scoop of vanilla on a sugar cone, he did indeed order a hot chocolate. He paid for this as well, and then they were out on the sidewalk once more, strolling toward their cars.

  It felt good to be with a man. This man in particular. She liked his quick wit. His intelligence. His height. His overall looks. And she didn’t even admonish herself this time. It would be useless. He was exactly what she was looking for. If she was looking for a man. Which she wasn’t. But if she was…

  They reached their cars in a companionable silence. She’d devoured her ice cream while attempting to squash the rise of optimism within, and he’d managed to slurp most of his hot chocolate down. Her mind kept playing tricks on her, teasing her to think she could manage dating along with her long work hours and stretched-to-the-snapping-point budget.