The Man Next Door. Gina WilkinsЧитать онлайн книгу.
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