McCloud's Woman by Patricia Rice Page A

contemporary chic flicks instead of pirate fantasies.
    Brooding over whether contemporary fantasies were as
marketable as her pirate one, Mara silently followed TJ out to his car,
drinking his coffee and generously handling the paper for him. She
grimaced at the boring rental car he led her to but climbed in without
comment when he opened the door for her. She’d give the wealthy like the
McClouds credit for one thing—good manners.
    Scooting the passenger seat back so she could stretch out,
she caught TJ’s surreptitious glance at her legs. Considerately, she
didn’t tweak his switches by crossing her knees. She just wanted to
inhale coffee, newsprint, and TJ’s familiar presence.
    After all these years, she still felt comfortable enough
with TJ to relax and be herself. She just wasn’t entirely certain who
that self was anymore.
    She didn’t appreciate that sudden insight into her screwed-up psyche.
    Returning the coffee to TJ after he maneuvered the car
into the street, she began flipping through the paper sections in search
of the ones she wanted.
    Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed he drained the
hot liquid in almost a single gulp. She should have handed him a beer to
see how alcohol lit his fire.
    Knowing she could still get under the skin of a full-
grown TJ McCloud soothed her mood considerably. Crossing her ankles and
pulling out the books section, she broke the silence. “You didn’t come
to my party. Big time at the McCloud residence last night?”
    “Matty was upchucking. Jared had promised to take the
neighbor’s kids to a school thing, but Cleo was beside herself.” He
shrugged. “I figured I’d be persona non grata at your place, so I took the kids to school so Jared could stay home.”
    Mara had to mentally snap her jaw shut. “You took a couple
of kids to school instead of attending the bash of the year? Knowing if
you played your cards right, you might even get lucky? Are you applying
for the Mother Teresa award?”
    “You’re the one who lectured me on responsibility.” He kept his voice even and his eyes on the road.
    She was quite certain the steam level had just risen ten
degrees. A man didn’t ignore a reference to getting lucky without
reason, particularly not in this case. They had a lot of unresolved
issues simmering here.
    She didn’t want to settle them on a Sunday morning with a hangover.
    “Just remember I’m Gemini.” She flipped open the book
review section and began scanning the headlines, looking for items of
interest. “You never know which me you’re talking to.”
    “Multiple personality disorder,” he diagnosed. “You didn’t used to suffer that.”
    “Did so too,” she retorted, hiding her uneasiness at the
mention of mental illness. “I was shy, obedient Patsy at school, and
blunt honest me with you.”
    “You just imitated Brad and me.” He swung the car down the sandy lane toward Cleo’s house and the beach. “You grew out of it.”
    “Yeah, boy, did I ever,” she muttered, glancing up from a
book review to dig for her PDA and catching sight of the widow’s walk
through the windshield. She forgot the computer and squinted into the
sunlight. “Is he sunbathing up there?”
    “Reading comic books, most likely.” Unperturbed by his brother’s activities, TJ veered into the driveway and cut the engine.
    Carrying the Times , Mara climbed out of the car
before TJ could grab his groceries and open the door for her. The
half-naked man on the roof waved from his lounge chair, and she waved
back. She’d lived in L.A. for nearly ten years. Eccentricity was
required for residency. What she really needed to do was scout the
location for a road around TJ’s roadblock.
    “Hey, Pats! Sorry we missed your bash last night,” Jared called down as they approached the house.
    “Your loss, Clumsy. Tim says you hide the espresso here.”
    “Yeah, I don’t mind trading New York’s exhaust fumes for all this sunshine, but a