“There’s no need for embarrassment, Mr. Carmichael.” Tessa pointed toward the house. “This is your home, and your security is designed to accommodate a busy household. There’s nothing about this that we can’t handle with regard to the president’s visit. We’re used to venues with significantly less security in place. The real issue is that Hank Littlefield seems to think he has permission to come onto private property in search of a story.”
“Yes.” Carmichael’s friendly demeanor shifted into that of the shrewd businessman he undoubtedly was. “My lawyer is already drafting a complaint to the news station. And a cease-and-desist order for the sheriff’s department to enforce. Mr. Littlefield will rue this day. I’ll make sure of it.”
They said their goodbyes, and neither spoke until Tessa drove through the gate.
“Remind me never to tick off Marshall Carmichael.” Zane pulled his phone from his pocket.
Tessa’s tense laughter broke off as her phone buzzed on the console. “Would you see who that is?”
Zane grabbed her phone and entered the password. She hadn’t changed it since she’d handed it to him the day he drove her to rehab. He should suggest she choose a new one, but he liked that she hid nothing from him.
Or did she?
Dinner tonight?
The text, and the sender, mocked him. He took a few seconds to breathe. He wasn’t her keeper. He was her friend. “Someone with the initials RK wants to know if you’d like to have dinner tonight.”
Tessa blew out a slow, exasperated breath. “What does it take?” She executed a left turn. “I want to know. What does it take for a man to get the point? I’m not interested. I’m not going to be interested. I don’t think it’s a cute game we’re playing.”
“Who is he?”
“A guy I met at a meeting.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to see people from meetings. Socially.”
“I wish it was prohibited. It would make my life a lot easier.”
So would having a wedding band on her finger. It wouldn’t stop everyone, but it would serve as a deterrent. Zane’s stomach clenched at the thought of anyone staking that kind of claim on Tess.
She’s mine.
The thought pinged through his brain and heart and left him staring out the window. They’d agreed. Friendship. Nothing more.She didn’t have to worry about him hitting on her or things getting weird.
It would be okay. He just had to get through this week. When he returned to DC, he’d throw himself into his work and she’d never be the wiser. It was easier to behave like her friend and not some overprotective Neanderthal over texts and phone calls.
“Zane? Hello?”
“Huh?”
“Where’d you go?” Tessa’s query was tinged with laughter. “I wasn’t ranting to hear myself talk. I want an answer.”
“Sorry. Brain’s in overdrive.”
“That’s okay.”
The silence stretched as he struggled to remember what she had asked him that had brought on his moment of terrible clarity.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Is it a state secret or something? Do they pull you aside when you’re fifteen and tell you it’s part of the bro code that you can never share the key to getting a guy to back off?”
Ah. That’s what she wanted to know. “Of course not. Kids are growing up faster, so that conversation happens at twelve these days.”
She smacked his arm. “I’m serious.”
“You think there’s a supersecret bro code?”
