but—”
“Tewanda.”
“I’ll walk you home,” Jamie offered, playing right into her maniacal matchmaking friend’s hands.
“Really,” Audrey insisted. “It isn’t necessary.”
“But it’ll relax me,” he said with a half-smile that made her belly do an odd little jump.
Oh, well…how nice for him. She wished she could say the same for herself.
“BE SURE TO GIVE MY REGARDS to the Colonel,” Jamie leaned in and whispered to Tewanda before following a somewhat irate Audrey out of the room.
“Sure thing, Ace,” Tewanda told him. She grinned and twinkled her fingers at him as he walked away. She was clearly enjoying herself, Jamie thought, fighting a chuckle. No doubt she’d received her instructions from the Colonel as well and was taking her role as matchmaker quite seriously.
While it was easy to laugh at her machinations, Jamie knew better than to discount them. As Audrey’s right-hand man, so to speak, and clearly a good friend, she was better positioned than anybody to know what was happening with Audrey. If she was trying this hard to make sure that Audrey didn’t marry Derrick, she had to have good reason.
Which made the Colonel sending him in as he had all the more understandable.
Sure, Jamie didn’t like it, and no doubt being with her without being with her was going to be sheer hell, but she had two very discerning people covertly interfering on her behalf—three, if he counted himself, which, for reasons he didn’t understand, he wasn’t prepared to do just yet—and that told him enough about what he was doing to make him feel marginally better about his role in the deception.
Besides, he didn’t have any choice. He’d owed Garrett.
Jamie opened the door for her, ushering Audrey out into the cool autumn air. Dusk had come and gone, bringing darkness and a spattering of bright stars. Fluffy clouds glowed in the moonlight and drifted lazily across the deep navy sky.
“She’s a piece of work, isn’t she?” Jamie remarked lightly as they descended the steps onto the walk.
Audrey chuckled, the sound soft, soothing and feminine against his ears. “Tewanda? That’s one way of describing her.” She crossed her arms over her chest, huddling further into her jacket. “I’m thinking ‘fired’ would be another.”
Jamie laughed. “Surely not?”
“Nah,” she relented. “I couldn’t do what I do without her. She’s invaluable—and insufferable. That’s part of her charm.”
“Look at it this way,” Jamie told her. “I bet you never have to wonder what she thinks.”
She shot him a pointedly wry look. “Much like my grandfather.”
Jamie tilted his head back as another laugh rumbled up his throat. “I definitely wouldn’t argue with that assessment.”
“He strong-armed you into coming here, didn’t he?”
That was one way of putting it, Jamie thought. “In a manner of speaking.”
“In a manner of speaking? He filled out all of your paperwork, sent your itinerary and told you when to be here.”
“What tipped you off?” Jamie teased. “The book on erectile dysfunction, the bottle of Metamucil or the package of adult diapers in the bathroom?”
“What?” she deadpanned with wide-eyed innocence. “You mean you aren’t an impotent, incontinent bed wetter?”
Smiling, Jamie ducked his head toward his chest and shoved his hands into his front pockets. “Er…that would be a big fat negative.”
“I asked him about all of that. He was only joking with those things, you know,” she said. “Wanted to prep you to relax with a good laugh.”
He figured she’d asked about Jamie’s so-called “preferences”, Jamie thought. He would have. He had to give the old guy a hand, though—he was quick on his feet. “I know,” Jamie said. “He’s always good for a laugh.” Jamie scratched his head, pretended to be confused. “Did he happen to mention why he listed my hobbies as basket-weaving, watercolors and ballroom dancing?”
Audrey shot him a smile. “Ah…those are ‘relaxing’ things he thinks you ought to try. Basket-weaving requires patience, watercolor skill, and every man needs to know how to dance. Or so sayeth the Colonel.”
So he’d conjured an answer for everything, then. Jamie shook his head. Somehow he wasn’t surprised. “And we, er…We have to adhere to that schedule while I’m here?”
Audrey turned onto the sidewalk which led up to her house. Her porch light glowed in the distance, illuminating potted plants—mums, mostly—and white wicker outdoor furniture outfitted with comfy cushions.
“We don’t have to,” she said. “The purpose of Unwind is to enable you to relax, but—” She hesitated, nervously chewed her bottom lip. “I was told to personally keep you on task and to ‘expect resistance.’”
She mounted the steps to her front door