Every Move You Make

“And if luck isn’t on our side?”

“Then we should be able to ascertain that the bag isn’t in Scottsboro, and be on the next flight back to Houston.”

He glanced at his watch, making her crane her neck to look at the sleek crystal as well, completely forgetting that she wore a watch of her own. “Well, then, we’d better make quick work of getting to the center, because the last flight out to Houston is at six.”

Mariah’s eyebrows shot up.

He seemed to notice the move. “I asked back at Hobby.”

“Oh. Good. Good.”

That was a P.I. move, wasn’t it? Either that or he was a man used to being prepared.

The question was, prepared for what?

Okay, what was it with her today? Her thoughts seemed to bounce all over the universe and back again. Then she remembered Justin’s announcement and collapsed against the chair and frowned. So, this was what being a reject did to you. It made you look, feel and act like a fool.

Or maybe being a fool was exactly the reason she couldn’t land a forever guy to begin with.

SO MARIAH CLAYBORN WASN’T the chatty type. As Zach watched her climb out of the rental car outside the Unclaimed Baggage Center, he told himself he should be thankful. He wasn’t much for small talk himself. In fact, he told himself he should be glad she wasn’t asking him too many questions. He’d decided early on that he was going to keep his real reason for being in Texas, and working for Jennifer Madison, to himself. Yes, while the entire P.I. business intrigued him, he had no intention of making a living as a P.I. He reminded himself that he was down here strictly to get the feel for the territory so that when he returned to Indiana he’d be prepared for the task of opening satellite offices of Finders Keepers.

He was, however, used to letting other people do the talking. Ask a couple of questions, and most people went off on long tangents that usually left him knowing more than he’d like.

But with Mariah, he found he didn’t know nearly enough. She’d been quiet ever since they’d left her office in Houston. Throughout the drive to the airport, the plane ride, then the drive to Scottsboro, the few questions he had asked had received little more than one-word answers.

Zach rubbed the back of his neck as he closed the cab door, watching Mariah lead the way to the door of what looked like a retail store about as big as a city block. While he didn’t consider himself a ladies’ man, he certainly thought he knew a whole lot about women. And one of those things was that they loved to talk. All you had to do was find the key word. Shopping usually did the trick. But he’d tried no fewer than ten of the regular conversation words on Mariah and she hadn’t bitten on a one of them. Not even politics had gotten more than a small smile from her.

He shrugged and followed after her. Okay, so she wasn’t interested in idle conversation. It was a new one for him, but Zach could handle it. Well, he could if there wasn’t the whole P.I. angle to think about. He’d like to get to know more about the business. And he’d like to get to know a whole lot more about Mariah Clayborn.

They talked to a clerk who told them that the type of baggage they were talking about wouldn’t be on the sales floor yet, but back in the warehouse behind the store. She made a phone call then walked them back to a large door. “Go on in. You’re expected. You’ll find James somewhere in the piles.”

Piles? Zach scanned the countless objects for sale, the place looking like a garage sale lover’s paradise, then stepped through the door the clerk held open. He immediately saw what she was talking about. Everywhere he looked were mountains of luggage. Big pieces, small pieces, expensive pieces, cheap pieces. All things that belonged to somebody somewhere and held cherished memories from their trips.

“Oh boy,” Mariah said, next to him.

“You can say that again.”

“Oh boy.”

Zach jerked to look at her and grinned. “I meant figuratively.”

She smiled back. “I know. I thought it deserved two.”

“Ah.”

Zach couldn’t quite put his finger on why, but whenever Mariah smiled, he either grinned or grinned wider, and an inexplicable heat slinked through his abdomen, making him want to touch her. It didn’t matter where. To tuck her wild hair behind her ear. To run his finger down the smooth column of her throat. To circle her right breast where the soft cotton of her T-shirt draped enticingly over the small mound.

“Hello!”

Zach heard the greeting, but was at a loss as to where it had come from.

“I take it you’re Miss Clayborn?”

It seemed to take Mariah a great effort to tear her gaze away from him. The heat he felt sizzled, knowing that she was as compelled by him as he was by her.

“Um, yes, that would be me,” she said finally.

A middle-aged guy with thick glasses popped up from behind a pile of suitcases nearest to them. Zach raised his brows.

“James, at your service,” he said, wiping his hands against his striped, short-sleeved shirt, then offering his hand. “Would either of you like some Starbucks?”

“No, thank you,” Zach said.

Mariah shook James’s hand. “You’re the one I talked to?”

“No. That would be Sally. I don’t sound like a woman to you, do I?”

Zach suppressed a chuckle. The guy in front of them definitely didn’t look like a woman.

Mariah cleared her throat. “Sorry. I was calling from the Houston airport so I really couldn’t make out much about the voice with all the background noise.”

“Airports. Hate ’em,” James said, offering his hand to Zach.

Zach nodded in complete agreement as he gave James’s hand a brief shake.

“So you all are looking for a wedding dress.” James pushed up his glasses again and peered around him. “Someone else here on the same errand. You’d be surprised how many of those things end up here.”

“Wedding dresses?”

“No, people looking for them.”

“Ah.”

“Found one the other day.” He kicked a suitcase out of the path and called out to another guy nearby, telling him to keep the pathways clear. “Wouldn’t be able to find your way out without the pathways,” James explained.

“By ‘found,’ do you mean people or wedding dresses?”

“Wedding dresses, of course.”

Zach tuned in on where Mariah was going. “And by the other day, which day, exactly, do you mean?”

“Two days ago.”

The right timeframe.

“Where is it? The dress, I mean?”

James motioned toward the far corner of the room. “Right where I directed the other guy who got here about twenty minutes ago looking for a dress, too.”