She's Got the Look

by Leslie Kelly

  She felt good. Better than good. She felt joyful.

  “I’m glad I came here,” she said, really meaning it.

  “I’m glad you came, too,” Nick said softly, dropping his arm possessively across her shoulders.

  Emma Jean and Johnny both watched, speculative but also appearing to approve. Which made Melody feel even better.

  So with a genuinely relaxed and playful wink at Emma, she said, “Okay, Nick, you big dope, where’s my drink?”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  NICK’S FAMILY HAD LOVED Melody. He’d known they would, of course—what wasn’t to love? But considering the way her life had been going lately, he’d half wondered if she’d tense up and be reserved around strangers.

  Uh-uh. Maybe for the first five minutes in the crowd of Joyful lunatics she’d held back. But she’d quickly loosened up…to the point where she’d let Mona Harding—former porn star turned restaurateur—drag her up to the front of the room with a bunch of other bridesmaids to join in on a chorus of “I Will Always Love You.” It was Johnny and Emma’s song…apparently a remnant from that infamous prom night. Nick’s wedding night.

  My, how life did turn.

  By the time they neared home Sunday afternoon, he was feeling both glad and regretful that he’d taken Melody to meet his folks. Glad because she’d had a wonderful time and because his mother had downright adored her—pulling him aside to tell Nick that if he let her get away, he’d regret it for the rest of his life. And glad because Melody seemed so happy. The tension had been erased from her body and she’d laughed more in that twelve-hour period than she had in days.

  Regretful because she’d harassed him mercilessly for his life story all the way home.

  Damn, Georgia was a big state. There was no way to evade her questions when the two of them were trapped in a car with just a slobbery dog for company for several hours.

  “So you definitely weren’t the Steve Urkel of your high school,” she said, referring to the conversation they’d had at Rosemary’s party. “From what Emma Jean says, you got straight A’s only in fighting and breaking the heart of every teenage girl in town. Especially once your big brother left for college.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Em’s got a big mouth.”

  “Do you still have your yearbook? I want to see a picture of Daneen.”

  He almost drove off the road. “Why in hell would you want to do that?”

  “So I can at least scratch her eyes out on paper, if not in person,” Melody said matter-of-factly.

  Oh, he loved her like this. The woman was in a feisty mood. Feisty and adorable, sexy and irresistible.

  Not that he’d resisted her much the night before. They’d spent many long, glorious hours sharing a room in Joyful’s one and only bed-and-breakfast, making that creaky antique bed moan even louder than Melody had. He’d explored every inch of her body, tasting and touching, kissing and licking her until she came in his mouth, purring like C.C. did when she was petted.

  She’d scratched like C.C., too, judging by the marks on his shoulders. But they were worth it.

  It was a good thing they’d left early this morning. Because by noon, he was sure the whole town had been gossiping that Nick’s new lady friend was a screamer. So went the Joyful rumor mill, which had once condemned Emma Jean as an exporn star.

  “She’s just lucky I’m never going to set foot in Atlanta again as long as I live,” Melody muttered.

  Still talking about Daneen. That Melody had been so indignant on his behalf when he’d told her the whole story of his marriage was the only good thing that had come of talking about it. “She’s ancient history. From what I hear, she’s hooked up with some music teacher and is finally trying to be a better person.”

  She snorted. “Leopards, spots…ever heard of them?”

  “I hope it’s true. For Jack’s sake,” he murmured.

  Melody obviously heard something in his voice that made her realize how uncertain Nick’s feelings still were about that situation. She reached out and took his hand. “He’s a nice boy. I’m glad his mother let him come up to visit your mom this weekend so he could be at the engagement party.”

  Nick nodded. “He’s a good kid.” He fell silent, as always feeling a little confused whenever he thought about Jack. Wondering how things might have been different.

  “Sometimes you have to trust that life turns out the way it’s supposed to, you know?” she said softly. “If you’d stayed with Daneen, you might have been there to raise Jack, but you wouldn’t have been there for those children in Kosovo. Would you?”

  Her words left him stunned. Reeling. Because during the many times he’d thought about his life and the way things had turned out, he’d never once made that association. Never. Though it was a very obvious one.

  He’d lashed out and joined the marines to escape the disappointment of his life. He’d been an angry kid. But the military had made a man of him, the kind of man who actually excelled under pressure, who was at his best when he was taking care of people.

  “As much as I know you wish you’d had the chance to be a really good father—to prove you’re not your father—it just wasn’t the right time for it to happen.”

  Not his father. Someone had obviously talked to Melody about his family. Probably somebody named Emma Jean Frasier.

  Not quite sure what to say, he simply nodded, keeping his eyes forward and both of his hands on the steering wheel. Her words bounced around in his head, and he knew they’d keep bouncing until he’d had a chance to sit down and really think about them. To rethink everything.

  Suddenly, another father came to mind. Dex. Given the way Melody had spoken all weekend, she didn’t know her friend, Rosemary, was pregnant. Nick wasn’t about to tell her. That was the kind of thing that needed to be told by the people involved.

  Besides, he didn’t want to bring up anything that might raise barriers between them. Because the odds on Rosemary and Dex’s chances weren’t exactly great.

  Not that they didn’t love each other. A fool could see they did. But he didn’t know if love would be enough. When two people were on such different levels—at such different places in their lives—emotionally, physically, financially—it would be damn hard to make it work for long. It would take a lot of determination and courage. Patience.

  He supposed that was what it took to make any relationship work over the long term. Not that he’d ever been in one long enough to find out. Not that he’d ever even wanted to.

  But glancing over at the woman next to him, turned sideways in her seat so she could reach over and scratch Fredo behind his fluffy ears, he began to wonder if, in him, he had what it took to try.

  And what it would take to find out.

  NICK HAD TRIED to talk Melody into going back to his place with him—to stay there until he found out who had planted a spy device in her apartment. She’d refused. No pervert was going to keep her out of her own home. Not now that she finally had a home that was entirely her own.

  “I’m sorry, I’m not leaving,” she said as they stood in her living room arguing about it shortly after they’d walked in the front door. “You checked everything again. It’s clear.”

  “You’re not staying here by yourself, Melody. I mean it.”

  She didn’t like the rigid tone in his voice, but reminded herself he was simply going into protective cop mode. He’d left the playful, flirtatious lover at the city limits, and had been tense and on edge ever since they’d gotten back to Savannah.

  “Well then,” she said, trying to tease him out of his unrelenting stiffness. “If you’re so worried, maybe you should stay here with me tonight.” Stepping closer, she slid her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his thick hair. Tugging him close, she brushed her lips across his, coaxing him into responding.

  He resisted for a half a second. Then, with a helpless groan, he wrapped his arms around her and drew her so tightly against him her feet left the floor. His mouth opened on hers, co
nsuming her in a fiery kiss that was deep, hungry and almost desperate. He communicated a lot with that one kiss. Mostly that he still wanted her. Craved her.

  And oh, God, did she want him. Now that she knew her apartment was clear of bugs or spy-cams, she wanted to rip her clothes off and have him right here in her living room. “Take me, Nick,” she demanded, not caring about anything right now except having him. “Take me.”

  He did as she asked without hesitating, yanking her jean skirt up, his mouth never leaving hers. Tugging her panties out of the way, he plunged a finger into her already drenched body. He set a frantic pace, matching the strokes of his hand to the rhythmic plunges of his tongue in her mouth.

  She was just as desperate, just as frenzied. She needed to reclaim this place. Needed to make it hers again. This was her home, and if she wanted to have wild, hungry, up-against-the-wall sex, she damn well should be able to do it without fears that somebody might be watching.

  Grabbing at his jeans, she fumbled around, unbuttoning, then unzipping. She tugged his briefs away, slipping her hand inside to clutch at his thick erection and stroke up and down, knowing that with their hunger, it wouldn’t take much to send both of them spiraling over the edge.

  “I need to be inside you now,” he muttered thickly, backing her up until her thighs hit the short divider between the living and dining rooms. It was the perfect height, she realized, as Nick, still kissing her as if he needed her mouth to survive, lifted her and set her on the edge of it.

  He didn’t even take his pants off, or her skirt. Shoving his jeans and briefs out of the way and stepping between her parted legs, he plunged into her with ravenous, crazy passion.

  Melody dropped her head back and cried out. Bracing herself on the ledge with her hands, she let Nick drive into her, over and over, until they were both panting and shaking. And, very shortly, climaxing almost in unison.

  When they were spent, still heaving in deep, shuddering breaths, Nick wrapped his arms around her and picked her up. Melody held him tightly around his neck as he carried her to her bedroom and lay down with her on the bed.

  “This is your place,” he said between deeply inhaled breaths. “You can do whatever you want here, Mel. Nobody’s ever going to violate your privacy again. I swear.”

  He understood. Without her having to say a word, he completely got what had driven her to such desperate want, to nearly rough passion. He’d known what she needed. And he’d given it to her. Which, she realized as they lay on their sides, face-to-face on her bed, his arms still around her and her legs still around him, was what the man always seemed to do.

  She was about to open her mouth to thank him, and maybe to ask him how he already knew her so well, when something began to hum against her inner thigh. “Uh, that a vibrator in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” she asked with a laugh.

  “My phone’s on vibrate. You’d have better luck reaching it with your foot than I would with my hand,” he said with a laugh.

  Melody quickly released him, sliding away on the bed as he sat up and tugged his phone from his pocket. “It’s Dex,” he said when he looked at the caller ID “I’m sorry….”

  “Go ahead. I need to go clean up, anyway.”

  While Nick talked to his partner on the phone, Melody went into the bathroom and got herself back together. Or, as back together as she could after such wild, spontaneous sex.

  Maybe she was turning into a nympho. Because thinking about all that wild, spontaneous sex was getting her aroused again. Good Lord, she’d had the man half-a-dozen times in the past three days and she was already hungry for more.

  “Bill,” she told her own reflection, picturing her ex-husband’s face, “I wasn’t cold. You were just a lousy lover.”

  Logically she knew her husband couldn’t hear her, but it felt good—damn good—to say it out loud. She was still smiling about it when she left the bathroom, finding Nick standing in her living room, fully dressed and tucking his phone back into his pocket.

  “Sorry to come and go, but I need to get to the station.”

  She snorted at his bad pun. “Come again, anytime.”

  He grabbed her and pressed a quick, possessive kiss on her lips, then strode toward the door. “I’ll try to come back tonight. You’ll be okay with Fredo?”

  She looked at the dog, who’d commandeered himself a sunny spot in front of the window, and nodded. “We’ll get along fine…since C.C. and Oscar aren’t here.”

  Nick’s hand was on the knob, but he paused before turning it. “You know, I’ve been wondering. Oscar’s named for bologna. What’s C.C. stand for?”

  “Cap’n Crunch. I thought she was a boy when I got her,” she explained with a shrug.

  “Ahh,” he said with an understanding nod.

  “It’s better than Tampax, right?” she asked.

  “You did those commercials, too?”

  She nodded ruefully. “Someday, we’ll have to go through my whole portfolio.”

  “I’m going to have to start watching TV Land for old commercials.”

  “Don’t I wish,” she said with a grin. “If I’m on TV Land, that means residuals. I don’t think Bill got the right to those in the divorce.” Wow, she was even laughing about her ex stealing all her money. She was definitely getting better.

  Nick opened the door, stepping into the hallway. But before he left, Melody asked, “So what did Dex say? Do you have some kind of lead on the murders?”

  “Yeah. He’s questioning a suspect in the Manning case.”

  She grew curious, wondering who had killed the man just a few short hours after she’d had coffee with him. “Who is it?”

  “The connection was bad. I only caught part of the name.”

  “Was I right about it being a woman?”

  He nodded. “Yep. The person Dex is questioning is female.”

  “I figured.”

  “Dex found out who Manning had the argument with in the parking lot Thursday night. Apparently it was some stewardess he’d been dating a couple of months ago. One he’d dumped.”

  “And you think she came to take revenge?” she asked, stepping out into the upstairs hallway with him.

  “That’s the thinking.”

  “What was her name?” she asked, still curious about Manning’s strange, very public death.

  “Oh,” he said, apparently remembering he hadn’t answered that question earlier. “She’s an African-American woman named Williams.” He turned toward the stairs. “Tina…something like that, I think. Tina Williams.” Blowing her a quick kiss, he hurried to the stairs, going down them two at a time.

  Melody remained still, unable to turn around and go back into her apartment.

  Tina Williams? Oh, God. Please, not Tanya Williams. Not her friend, the flight attendant who’d been so unhappy Wednesday night on the phone. Who’d been crying over a creep who’d used her and dumped her. Not her friend who was getting back into town late Thursday night…the friend who had sounded ready to fight back instead of crying anymore over some guy.

  Not the one who’d sounded so disgusted whenever Drake Manning’s name was mentioned. “Oh, Tanya, no,” she whispered.

  Feeling panicky, Melody hurried back inside her apartment and dialed Tanya’s number. There was no answer at home, and none on her cell. Nearly desperate, she found the phone book and came up with the name of one of Tanya’s friends, who worked with her at the airline. The other woman told her she hadn’t seen or heard from Tanya since Thursday…when they’d landed at around nine in the evening.

  Every call hammered another spike of worry into Melody’s skull. Until, finally, she realized there was no other choice but to find out the truth for herself. Sticking her feet into her sandals, she grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

  She didn’t want to worry her friends, but she decided to call them, anyway. Rosemary did have some great connections in this town. And if Tanya needed a lawyer…

  “Don’t think like that,” she
reminded herself.

  She dialed Rosemary’s number as she locked her apartment door. By the time she was sitting behind the wheel of her car a few minutes later, she’d also spoken to Paige, who would have been livid if they’d left her out of this. The two women had been equally horrified, and equally determined to do something.

  Of course, they’d all come to the same conclusion.

  If Tanya was indeed at the police station, then that’s exactly where her three best friends needed to go.

  NICK RECOGNIZED Melody’s friend Tanya as soon as he arrived at the station and spied her through the two-way mirror, sitting in the interrogation room. Dex, too, obviously knew the woman’s identity. He was waiting for Nick outside the room, pacing up and down the hall, looking like utter hell.

  Dex’s usually precisely neat clothes were rumpled. His hair was sticking up and his face looked as if he’d been sleeping on a bed of nails…or not at all. His partner didn’t get this torn up over the job. Which left Nick with the distinct impression that things hadn’t gone well with Rosemary.

  “Is that who I think it is?” Nick asked, ignoring Dex’s personal problems. They had a job to do…and if that was Melody and Rosemary’s friend sitting in the other room looking both angry and terrified, he and Dex were going to be in a world of hurt.

  “Yeah.” Dex ran a frustrated hand through his hair, which explained the sticking-out-all-over look. “I didn’t know it was her until I showed up at her place to talk to her.”

  “How’d you get her name?”

  “One of Manning’s friends. Manning apparently had a fling with her a couple of months ago and dropped her, the same way he seemed to drop every woman he was ever involved with.”

  “Shit.” This had just gotten very sticky. “Does Rosemary know?”

  The fatigue disappeared from Dex’s face as his entire body stiffened. “I haven’t spoken to Rosemary since yesterday.”

  Unable to let his friend think he didn’t give a damn about what was going on, Nick said, “You talked to her about…things?”