Heart of Gold - By Tami Hoag Page 0,24
her head in the room. “I just got in and saw your light. Is something going on?”
Faith rolled her eyes. “Rambo is upstairs trying to hunt down Captain Dugan.”
Alaina’s wry smile tilted up one side of her lush mouth as she came in and closed the door behind her. “I don’t suppose it did you any good to explain to him about the captain?”
“A complete waste of good breath. The man has a head harder than granite.” And the rest of him wasn’t exactly Play-Doh, either. The thought sneaked into her conscious mind from her memory, bringing a telltale flush to her cheeks.
“He’s not the type to believe in things he can’t point a gun at,” Alaina said.
Like love and romance. Faith cursed her brain for letting thoughts like that form and surface. She resumed her pacing, hoping the movement, coupled with the dim light in the room, would keep Alaina from reading too much in her expression. Her friend had an uncomfortably sharp eye when it came to reading people.
“Well.” Alaina shrugged, sticking her hands in the pockets of her red cashmere cardigan. “He’ll find out for himself that there’s nothing up there worth arresting. He can’t very well slap handcuffs on an apparition. How’s Lindy? Still itching?”
Faith smiled in appreciation for the change of subject. Her whole body relaxed visibly as she leaned against the carved cherry foot post of her canopied bed. “She’s much better tonight. This might be the world’s easiest case of chicken pox, which means I have something to be grateful for after all. How was the movie?”
It was Alaina’s turn to roll her eyes. “Let me give you a piece of sound advice,” she said, prowling the small bedroom as if it were a courtroom and Faith a juror who needed to hear a convincing argument. Her elegant hands moved in harmony to emphasize her words. “Never go to the movies with a film critic. Our dear friend Jayne, whom I find to be perfectly pleasant in most respects, is a fanatic. She takes her vocation much too seriously.”
“She didn’t like the movie?”
“Roget’s Thesaurus doesn’t hold as many synonyms for the word bad,” Alaina said dryly.
As if summoned, a head of rich auburn waves poked into the room. “Is there something exciting going on?”
On cue a thud sounded overhead. Alaina grinned and motioned her inside. “You’ll love this. Callan is upstairs playing ghostbusters.”
“Bad casting,” Jayne said, making a face as she slipped into the room and shut the door behind her. “I have serious doubts about Faith’s Mr. Callan playing comedy. He doesn’t seem particularly fun loving. My guess is he’s a Capricorn.”
“He’s not my Mr. Callan.” Faith protested so quickly the words seemed to tumble over each other on their way out of her mouth. She looked on in horror as her friends exchanged a significant glance. “I mean, he’s here because of me, but I don’t want him. I mean, I don’t want him here. Not that I’d want him anywhere.”
She groaned under her breath and knocked her forehead against the bedpost. She’d just managed to make it fairly obvious that she was attracted to the man. She jumped as Jayne’s hand settled gently on her shoulder.
“Honey, if you’d ever care to translate that into understandable English, I’d be more than willing to listen.” Jayne shot a questioning look at Alaina, who physically backed away from the topic.
“Don’t look at me for advice on this. I’m a lawyer. I’m the last person you want to talk to about romance, unless it concerns community property.”
“No,” Faith said dejectedly. “Shane Callan is the last person I want to talk to about romance. The man wears a gun strapped to his ankle, for heaven’s sake! I saw it when he was tying his shoe. A gun! That’s not the kind of thing that fits readily into my lifestyle. That’s something that should be in a movie!”
“It was,” Jayne said earnestly. She poked her hands into the patch pockets of her wildly flowered dress. “Didn’t you see Deadly Justice?”
“No.”
“Just as well. The script sucked swamp water.”
Faith shook her head, both to clear it and to get her thoughts back on track. Jayne was infamous for losing the thread of a conversation. In another few sentences she could have them discussing metaphysics.
“I can’t afford to be attracted to a man like Shane Callan,” Faith announced, as if saying it aloud could steel her resolve.
An authoritative knock sounded at the door. Without waiting for an invitation, the