Triggered by Love

by Rachelle Ayala

  She glanced up into a pair of wraparound sunglasses and huffed. “I’m surprised you can see through those shades.”

  Larry the Leech laughed and removed them. His name was Larry Leach, quite unfortunate, but he had a good sense of humor about it.

  “Buy you a drink?” he asked, tucking the shades in his shirt pocket.

  “Someone beat you to it.” She smirked, picking up a peanut and cracking the shell. “When did you get back in town?”

  “Day before yesterday.” He ordered a gin and tonic.

  Avery crunched on a peanut and gave him a skeptical appraising look. “There have been multiple sightings of guys wearing wraparounds. No trench coats though.”

  “Not going to catch me in aviators. I’m not my dad.” Larry crushed a peanut shell with his thumb and index finger. “He’s mighty proud of you, by the way.”

  Avery’s stomach soured, but she gamely kept her face from crumbling. Professor Orson Leach was her mentor at the fashion institute, and without his help, she wouldn’t have scored a spot in the Manhattan Fashion Show.

  “That’s what he tells you.” She accepted her light beer and raised the bottle toward Trent to thank him. “He thinks my Cocky Heroes line is too retro, hearkening back to the day when men were men, or as he put it, cavemen.”

  Larry twirled his finger around, tracing the condensation beading on her beer bottle. “I take it your guys aren’t wearing skirts or meggings.”

  “Not even a kilt.” She was about to say Brando wouldn’t be caught dead in even a pink or lavender shirt but squelched the words.

  Larry was an international financier and dressed fashionably well, but his tastes in clothes were trendier and more unisex than she could stomach, tending toward form-fitting jackets and slender slacks.

  “Are you going to give my father a private showing before the show?” Larry asked without a hint of innuendo.

  How could he know what kind of hold he had on Avery? To Larry, his father was a jolly, if somewhat eccentric, fashion designer who thrived on teaching, critiquing, and encouragement. He was so well connected that any student he recommended would get placements in the most competitive shows.

  “I might, if I had the right model,” Avery said. “Wouldn’t he want front row seats at the show instead?”

  Larry sipped his gin and tonic, considering her with hooded eyes. “You owe him a private showing. His health isn’t the best, and it’s better if he doesn’t mix with a lot of germs.”

  “I’ve been so busy, but I can make sure he gets a video after the event.”

  Larry thumped the glass on the counter, and his easy smile was replaced by a thin line. “Really? You’re not dating anyone, are you?”

  “I don’t have time for dating. You know that.” A nagging feeling of unease tightened her belly. “As for why I’m here. Mrs. Bonet thought I should live a little. I’m usually watching the late-night show with her.”

  “Then Dad will be glad to know you can spare some time to visit. He says I’m too easy to beat.” Larry was referring to Orson’s love of backgammon and cribbage. What he didn’t know was that Orson played differently with his models and students, both male and female.

  “Sure. I’ll pencil him in. I’ve a busy weekend, and he should know how hectic it is the week leading up to the show. Plus, I have a new model I have to break in. Teach him how to pose, walk, and turn.”

  “Shouldn’t models be up on those basics already?” Larry swirled the rest of his drink before downing it.

  “This one’s not a model. I couldn’t find a guy big enough to fit in Brando’s britches.”

  A sneaky grin crept on Larry’s shiny face, and he pointed both index fingers at her. “I knew it. You’re dating again. Told Dad you only went for the biggest men. So, who’s the lucky guy?”

  Avery wasn’t sure if Alida wanted gossip to get around before the staged event, so she shrugged. “Trade secret. Watch the buzz sites.”

  “You’re cooking up something. Better let Dad know ahead of time. You know how he hates surprises.” Larry’s voice took a darker tone, and not for the first time, Avery wondered if he knew.

  “I know how to cater to the big donors,” she said. “Don’t worry. I’ll give him a call. If you see him first, let him know I haven’t forgotten our arrangement.”

  “He’s definitely not forgotten you.” Larry checked his watch and pushed away from the bar. “He’d like to host a fundraiser for your dad alongside a private fashion show for you in the fall run-up to the election. Hit the big donors in the checkbook with one stone.”

  “I’m not sure this new model of mine can make it. He has other obligations,” Avery said.

  “Go to any boxing club.” Larry straightened the lapels on his jacket and took out his sunglasses. “You know my dad’s tastes.”

  “Sure, good suggestion.” She waved him off and watched him weave his way toward the exit. Did he come to the bar only to talk to her?

  And what did he know about his father’s strange appetites?

  She squeezed the lemon wedge into her beer and took another swig, wondering what happened to Saul. Not that she was disappointed or anything. The kid probably picked up a fare or couldn’t find a parking spot and left.

  She turned back to the counter to order another beer, and another shadow fell over her.

  “Avery, do you mind telling me who you were talking to?” Jason’s growly voice ruffled her senses with a cocktail of annoying possibilities. Her first instinct was to tell him it was none of his business, but the warmth of the beer in her belly and the way his presence made tingles dance over her skin had her intrigued.

  “Why would you care?”

  “I’ll tell you if you let me buy you a drink.”

  “I’m not stopping you.” She handed him the empty Corona bottle, and he signaled the bartender. “Now, you tell me. Are you stalking me?”

  “Would you care if I were?” He broke a peanut shell with one squeeze and popped the contents into his mouth.

  “Better you than others,” she conceded. Here was a man who’d seen her at her worst, and there was absolutely no chance they’d ever get together—not when his appearance triggered memories of the worst moment in her life. He seemed protective of her, and maybe it was a good thing. He was obsessed with solving the cold case, and she could use a friend—someone younger than Joan Bonet.

  He ordered another Corona for her and a Molson for himself, then settled in on the barstool next to her. His gaze swept over her—watchful cop eyes that missed nothing. “Tell me about the others. Any of them have you worried?”

  “Not to be full of myself, but when you’re notorious like me, in a town where everyone knows my father and what happened to me, there are always people watching me or trying to catch me in a bad moment.”

  “I’m sorry it has to be that way.” He glanced around before putting his hand over hers. “You have nothing to worry about because I’m going to keep you safe.”

  “Thought I told you not to come around until you’ve caught the guy who wants me dead.” Her nerves were jumpy at how bold she was getting. Was she flirting or plain afraid, now that Larry had reminded her of her obligation to his father? Or was it the creepy feeling she got around even innocent guys like Saul when he offered to walk her up to her apartment? She looked over at Trent and the woman hanging on to his arm. Even she looked suspicious, like she was sizing up the competition, or was she watching her to report back to someone else?

  Her attention returned to Jason when he squeezed her hand and caressed her palm with his thick thumb. “The best way to catch someone who wants you dead is to get in the way.”

  “I can’t let you do that for me.” She recoiled, yanking her hand away despite the pleasure of his grip. “You’re practically a stranger, and I’m sure you have many unsolved cases.”

  “You’re that confident of me, aren’t you?” He gave her a self-deprecating grin and shrugged. “We don’t have to be strangers, do we?”

>   “No, we don’t. You already offered to be my friend, but I’m warning you—that’s where it stops.”

  “Let me tell you a secret.” He made a gesture for her to lean toward him. She met him halfway, and he kissed the shell of her ear before whispering, “I don’t intend to ever stop when it comes to your safety.”

  He’d saved her once, but could she save her heart?

  “As long as you don’t become the threat,” she said, holding back a sigh at the way he made her feel. If she closed her eyes hard enough, could she turn the clock back far enough?

  “I already am.” He brushed his lips over the junction between her earlobe and jawline, and she knew he would never take “no” for an answer—not that she wanted him to stop pushing.

  Chapter Ten

  Jason had never heard Avery giggle before, and the mischievous way she covered her mouth made his heart light and fluttery. They were on their third round of beers, and Brando’s friend, Trent, and his date, Jayla, had joined them in front of the dartboard.

  “I’m lucky these are only magnetic darts.” Avery laughed when her dart stuck not to the board but to a shelf above it.

  “I prefer the old-fashioned ones with the steel tips,” Jason said. He casually tossed a dart and it hit the center, lighting up the high score. Handing Avery a dart, he said, “Try again.”

  “Only if you hold my hand.” She wobbled on her heels to get in position.

  “What do I get if I help you score?” He gladly stepped behind her, holding on to her left arm to steady her.

  “Just get me onto the board, and then we’ll talk.” She held the dart backward.

  He didn’t think she was that out of it, but if she wanted to act giggly and silly, he’d go with it. It was much better than the fear on her face when she looked away from the man with the wraparounds.

  He readjusted the dart in her hand, then cupped his hand over hers. “You have to let go when I tell you to.”

  “Aye, aye, sir!” She let him flail her hand but didn’t let go when he said, “Now.”

  Instead, she turned in his arms and stuck the dart into his mouth, laughing like an imp. “Eat this.”

  Without thinking, he leaned toward her, and she bit the other end of the dart, tugging at it like a puppy on a rope toy when he wouldn’t let it go.

  His competitive streak kicked in, and he bit down hard on the dart, growling to keep it. She tugged, shaking her head, and then let go, surprising him.

  He inhaled, and the dart hit the back of his throat before he coughed it out.

  Avery doubled over, holding her belly. Laughter pealed from her sweet lips, and her eyes glittered with tears.

  “Looks like I hit the jackpot.” She chuckled and downed the rest of her beer. “Buy me another one.”

  “No more for you,” Trent said. He glared at Jason. “Didn’t you say you were a cop?”

  “Yes, and your point is?” He put his arm protectively over Avery’s shoulders. “I can take care of the lady.”

  “Don’t take advantage of her,” Trent said tightly. “You know why.”

  “She’s legal, and she’s not going to drive,” he replied. The overt hostility signaled this party was over. Avery didn’t need Brando’s friends to protect her.

  “We can take Avery home,” Jayla said, nudging Trent. “I don’t think her brothers are showing up tonight. Damon said they have a code freeze, whatever that means, and it’s all hands on deck spinning builds all night.”

  “I’m not a baby,” Avery said. Her shoulders were still shaking from residual laughter. “You should have seen the expression on his face when he choked.”

  “I didn’t choke,” Jason said.

  “You did, too. Choker, or should I call you Joker?”

  She definitely had too much to drink.

  “Ave, you want to go home now?” He spoke softly to her, tucking her into his arms.

  “Sure. Let me call Saul.” She flipped her phone from her purse and dropped it onto the tile floor.

  Jason bent to pick it up at the same time she did, and they bumped heads.

  “Ow.” She scooped up her phone. “Now it’s cracked.”

  “Then we have matching phones,” he quipped, showing her his cracked screen. “You don’t have to call Saul. I’ll drive you home.”

  “I want Saul to drive me,” she said, tapping the screen. “He needs the dough.”

  “Give it to him the next time you see him,” Jason said. “I have a car, and I’m a cop. I’ll make sure you get home safe.”

  “I can’t just give him money.” Avery’s voice slurred as she completed the request. “He has to earn it. I mean, I give him big tips, but still, there’s dignity in work over charity.”

  “Very admirable.” Jason kept his hand over her shoulder. “Then you won’t mind if I share the cost?”

  What was wrong with him? He had a car parked a block from the bar, and going with her would mean he’d have to double back and fetch his car later.

  But he knew better than to let the bird in his hand go.

  Avery tapped on the app, shaking her head. “His car is on the map, but he’s not responding. I’m canceling before another driver shows up.”

  “My chariot awaits.” Jason tried to guide her on her way, but she waved to her friends. “You guys want to come with us? We can have coffee at my place.”

  “Sure, sounds great!” the two interlopers hastily agreed.

  Trent gave Jason a smirk as he downed his last drink, and then the four of them sauntered out of the bar together.

  Jason’s hackles raised as soon as he stepped onto the sidewalk and spotted the emergency vehicles. Someone was being loaded into an ambulance while a police car straddled the curb.

  A small crowd gathered around, but there were no wrecked cars or broken windows.

  “What happened over there?” Avery asked as the ambulance drove away without using the siren. “Did someone get sick?”

  Jason steered her away from the scene. “Maybe, but they wouldn’t be questioning witnesses.”

  “Does that mean a crime?” She walked on, looking over her shoulder.

  “Ave, is something wrong?” he asked when she stopped in her tracks and turned toward the policemen.

  “It’s Saul’s car. Still parked nearby.” She quickened her steps.

  “Are you sure?” Jason chased after her, followed by Trent and Jayla.

  “It looks like it. What if he’s sick or hurt?” She closed the distance, and one of the cops said, “Miss, stay back. This is a crime scene.”

  “Crime scene?” Jason recognized the uniformed officer. He wasn’t from his precinct, but because Jason was a detective, he conferred with policemen all over the city. “What happened here?”

  “Detective Burnett.” The young officer recognized him. “They called you in on this?”

  “No, I was at the bar across the street. Is everything okay? My friend here wants to know who left in the ambulance.”

  “Guy got into a fight.”

  “Is it Saul Guillory?” Avery asked. “That’s his car over there. I called him on the rideshare app, but he didn’t respond, even though his car’s parked right there and there’s no one inside.”

  The officer checked his notepad. “Yep. I checked his wallet. That’s his name.”

  “Is he okay? What hospital are they taking him to?” Avery’s voice was no longer slurred as she shot the questions rapid-fire.

  “He’ll be good as new,” the officer said. “Roughed up. Didn’t want medical attention until he started bleeding from his ear.”

  “Who hit him?” Avery asked.

  “Witnesses didn’t see anything. Just saw him slumped on the sidewalk holding his head. Still had his wallet though, and he was mumbling about a misunderstanding. I take it he knew whoever hit him. You say he drives rideshare? Maybe something to do with that.”

  “Sounds like he has a concussion.” Jason cut off the officer’s speculations. “I know the hospital they too
k him to. Let’s go.”

  “We’re going to have to beg off,” Trent said once they left the crime scene. “I have physical therapy early, and Jayla has classes.”

  Avery hung on to his arm and said goodbye. He could feel the tension running up and down her body as she shivered despite the lingering heat.

  “He’ll be okay,” he reassured, patting Avery’s hand.

  “I hope so, but I can’t help thinking he was waiting for me.”

  “Maybe he responded to the rideshare request and opened the door to the wrong person.”

  “He was going to turn off his availability and join me tonight. He was only supposed to be out there looking for parking,” Avery said in a quavering voice. “I was waiting for him, but he never showed up.”

  A spike of annoyance shot through Jason. “He stood you up?”

  “No, it wasn’t a date or anything,” Avery said. “I was planning on going home, but then I thought about what Joan said, about me being too young to give up living, and thought I’d see if any of Brando’s buddies still hung out at Lushpuppies.”

  “You weren’t planning on going to the bar.”

  “No, I wasn’t.” She walked at his side silently for half a block, and he wasn’t sure what he was more grateful for—that Avery’s friends left or that she was still hanging on to his arm.

  If she hadn’t planned on going to the bar, then how did the wraparound sunglasses guy know to follow her there? Jason didn’t believe in coincidences, but he also knew she’d clam up if he interrogated her.

  “I hope you had a good time even though Saul didn’t show.” He patted the hand she had on his arm.

  “I did. I can’t believe I got drunk, but I guess if I have to get drunk, it’s safest with a cop, right?” The expression on her face was blank and unreadable, and he wasn’t sure if she was being sarcastic.

  “You’ll find no one safer than me.”

  She sighed and leaned her head against his chest. “I know it’s your time off. But thanks for offering to take me to the hospital to check up on Saul.”

  “Hey, he’s your friend, and that’s good enough for me.” Jason felt that remark earned him a kiss, and he wasn’t disappointed, except she pecked him on the cheek.