Cougar Mom

by Eve Langlais

  “There was a time he thought he’d settle down.”

  “And?”

  Gerome rolled his shoulders. “It didn’t work out, but he liked the property.” At the very end of the hall, he stopped in front of a door, stained dark like all the others. “Here’s your room.” He swung it open, but rather than look inside, she glanced at the camera parked across from it, the small, glass eye watching. She’d noticed the dome mounts dotting their path, an excessive amount of them she thought, especially inside. She wouldn’t complain, though. Hugo had promised security.

  “The room has its own bathroom and a walk-in closet.”

  She followed Gerome in, stating, “I don’t have any clothes.”

  “Yes, you do. The boss had some stores deliver things in your size.”

  “Of course, he did, despite not knowing what I like to wear.”

  “Don’t be so sure of that. The boss is observant.”

  “The boss is a chicken who escaped me.” She glanced down the hall but didn’t see him.

  “He’s a busy man. As am I. So, let’s get this over with.” Gerome swept a hand to encompass the room. “Fresh linens on the bed, there are towels and toiletries in the washroom.” He jabbed a finger at a phone on the nightstand. “If you need anything—food, aspirin, something not in this room—just hit zero, and you’ll be in touch with either me or whoever else is on call.”

  “Part of being Hugo’s everything guy?”

  “And now yours, for the moment.”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “I’m sure you can, but I do make good muscle. I hear you had a spot of trouble at the hospital.”

  Her lips pulled down. “The police chief seemed to think it was an isolated incident.”

  “What do you think?”

  She shrugged. “That I don’t understand anything right now.”

  “Then it’s a good thing you’re here. We’ll keep you safe,” Gerome promised.

  He left, and she was alone in a room of luxury. She kicked off her sandals, and her toes sank into the plush carpet by the bed. She flopped onto the mattress and sighed.

  Much better than the hospital. Still, she couldn’t relax. The sense of familiarity had only increased after meeting Gerome. His face seemed familiar. Parts of the house made her feel as if she suffered déjà vu.

  Yet Hugo claimed they’d never met. Why would he lie?

  Perhaps they had met. Maybe they were even friends. Or worse, lovers. What if the lump on her head wasn’t an accident but something intentional, and he was at fault?

  If that were the case, she’d just delivered herself to him and made it easy for him to eliminate her.

  Except…that didn’t make much sense. He’d interrupted whoever had tried to suffocate her. She’d seen two men in the room before they bolted.

  And again, why call the ambulance if he wanted to get rid of her?

  She walked to the closet and opened it to see a decent assortment of clothes. More than she would need for a few days.

  She stroked her fingers over the fine fabrics and noticed the tags still on every single item. Not a hand-me-down. Not a discard from an ex-girlfriend or mistress.

  There were comfortable things like yoga sets and athletic wear, to light summer pieces, to even some fancier evening wear. A dark blue sheath gown tucked on one hip and low-cut in both front and back.

  Much too sexy.

  She itched to put it on, but instead, turned from the closet to eye the rest of the room. The patio door led to the yard, the garden outside a wild riot of color and smells. She decided to explore.

  It didn’t take long for fatigue to make her yawn. Twilight fell, and she wandered back to her room to find a tray of food.

  A hearty soup, and some fruit, cheese, and bread. She fell asleep on the bed, face-first on the covers, and didn’t wake until she felt the slide of something over her leg.

  Immediately, she came awake, knowing that she wasn’t alone. All of a sudden, Hugo’s insistence on her coming here made sense. He’d lied. He did want to sleep with her.

  “I said no!” She kicked and rolled, fumbling for a lamp. When it lit, she blinked for a moment. Then her lips rounded into a giant O of surprise as the snake hissed and lunged.

  Chapter Six

  The scream could only be from one person, and Hugo responded immediately, racing back across the pool patio, the echo of the shout dying without being repeated.

  His bare feet pounded on the concrete decking of his pool then down the cobbled path to the far end of his house. He’d placed her there to keep her out of sight, and now cursed the choice given the distance.

  A light shone from her patio doors when he arrived, huffing only slightly. He stepped aside as Gerome exited, hand outstretched, serpentine body dangling from it.

  “That’s a big one,” Hugo remarked as his man marched past.

  “Miss Ariel left her door open, and it must have slid in.”

  “I did not.” Hugo heard her shout from inside.

  He followed the voice. “Well, it certainly didn’t magically appear in your room.”

  “I agree. Someone put it there.”

  He arched a brow. “You think someone snuck onto the property, evading my security, to slip a snake into your room.”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “So it would bite me, and I’d die.”

  “I have an antidote.”

  “Which you can only administer if you know I’m poisoned. But what if I hadn’t yelled for help?”

  “Then after it bit you, you probably had about fifteen minutes before things started getting rough.”

  “It could have strangled me to death in that time.”

  “You’re thinking of a different snake.”

  “I know about snakes,” she hissed.

  So did he, and those big ones she spoke of didn’t live in the populated areas, but in the jungle mountains. Still…

  “Would you like to change rooms?”

  “I don’t know.” She flopped onto the bed, wearing only a short, silken gown that barely hit her mid-thigh.

  “How about I lock the patio door and check the room for critters?”

  “What if they come in person to kill me next time?”

  “They’d have to break the glass, and that would set off alarms.”

  “Alarms won’t save me if the attacker’s got a knife.” She hugged a pillow to her chest. “I’m being crazy, aren’t I?”

  “A little.”

  “It’s terrifying not knowing anything,” she admitted.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and hesitated with his hand over her back. Could he touch and offer comfort? He abstained and would have sworn she shriveled a little more.

  “This was probably just an accident.” He stood and locked the patio door before doing a thorough job of searching the space. Under the bed, dressers, in the closet, the bathroom.

  When he returned, he found her lying on her back under the covers, watching him. “All clear,” Hugo announced.

  “Thank you.” She didn’t look relaxed.

  He returned to the bed and sat down. “Want me to stay while you fall asleep again?”

  “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” she asked, turning on her side.

  “I don’t sleep so good anymore.”

  “Why?”

  “Too many reasons to list.”

  “I’m afraid to close my eyes. What if I lose more of myself every time I do?”

  “You need rest.”

  “Says the man who doesn’t sleep.”

  “Move over.”

  “Why?”

  “If you’re going to yap, then I’m getting comfortable.”

  “You’ll really stay?”

  He found himself replying softly, “Yeah.”

  She rolled to her back and shuffled over. He stretched out beside her, on top of the covers but somehow still very aware of her.

  “How old are you?” she asked.

&
nbsp; “Isn’t that question forbidden?”

  “Only if you ask a woman. Men are distinguished with age.”

  He snorted. “Not really. I’m forty-nine.”

  “I think I’m in my forties. I am definitely not in my thirties.”

  “You could be a hot fifty!”

  She jabbed him, and he found himself guffawing. “Hey, I called it hot.”

  “Might as well call me a cougar,” she grumbled.

  “You do know cougar means sexy, too?”

  “Are you flirting with me?”

  “Never,” he lied as he flirted.

  “So, if I’m a cougar, I guess that makes you a silver fox.”

  “I don’t have enough gray for that.”

  “Still counts.” She’d rolled to her side, her back to him, and he found himself tilting, not touching her but noticing the shape of her, the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

  “Go to sleep,” he said a little more roughly than intended.

  “Why do you hate me?”

  “I don’t hate you.”

  “You sound angry half the time when you talk to me.”

  “Maybe that’s just my personality.”

  “Hmm.” She snuggled closer, her voice faint. She didn’t say anything further. He remained still, conscious of her almost touching him. Her breathing soft and even.

  Normal? How would he know?

  He watched her, and the next thing he knew, a slant of dawning light woke him.

  Woke. Him.

  He’d slept. The whole damned night through until dawn.

  How?

  He looked to see Ariel snuggled against his chest, her hair a soft red cloud for his chin. He’d not just slept, he’d cuddled.

  Hugo fled that bed as if someone had set it on fire.

  7

  Interlude: Pre-Wedding Brunch

  T-minus four days until the wedding.

  Audrey—code name Frenemy Mom—met up with the other moms, sans their partners, for brunch. The best meal of the day. It had the yummies of breakfast with some of the more solid carbs from a lunch. With a bun in the oven, she found herself craving a wider variety. Poor Mason, her boyfriend, received the news of the impending child via vomit. To his credit rather than be grossed out, he’d asked, “Should I ask why I’m wearing pickles and jellybeans?”

  She’d replied, “Pregnancy hormones.” And what did the idiot do with the news? Told everyone at the Bad Boy Inc. office meaning she got treated like some kind of delicate princess and got offered donuts every time she showed up to meet him.

  Audrey eyed the buffet, marking what she wanted then filled a plate to the brim, meaning she had to put the extra bacon on a second one. She joined the others and noticed one chair was conspicuously empty. “Has anyone seen Meredith?”

  “I was going to ask the same thing,” Tanya said. “I haven’t seen her since I got here.”

  “Probably going over every last-minute detail. The woman is a wedding taskmaster.” Carla groaned. “Do you know how many times she came to make me try on the dress? And she kept warning me not to overeat, for fear I might split a seam.”

  “I bet it was almost as many times as she made us try on our bridesmaids’ gowns,” Audrey grumbled. She’d had hers loosened, given her belly was already starting to swell. Meaning she’d have to tell Mother she was no longer fit for field duty. Good thing she could still work via computer.

  “Meredith won’t be joining us for brunch or tonight’s entertainment,” Mother stated, placing a napkin in her lap.

  “Oh no, is she okay? Did she get food poisoning?” Tanya exclaimed.

  Portia, the always-prepared mom of the group, jumped in. “I have remedies for diarrhea and upset stomach.”

  “She’s not sick, just a tad occupied at the moment.” Mother took a bite of her fruit salad.

  Audrey eyed their handler suspiciously. “Occupied how, exactly?”

  Louisa made a face. “I don’t need details if it’s another of her boy toys.” Meredith liked men. Too much at times.

  “Other matters require her attention at the moment.”

  Which could only mean one thing. “Holy crap. You sent her on a mission.”

  Carla cursed. “You do realize she’s planning my wedding?”

  “Your wedding will be fine. You know how organized she is. Everything has already been taken care of.”

  Carla wasn’t placated. “She’s supposed to be my bridesmaid.”

  “She’ll be back in time for the ceremony.”

  But the Killer Moms, who so rarely all got together like this, wouldn’t let Mother off the hook so easily.

  “Is she still on the island?”

  “Does she need backup?”

  “Pass the jam.”

  Only Mother appeared unperturbed.

  Carla slammed a hand on the table. “Enough of the evasion. What have you done with Meredith?”

  “Nothing. She’s on a mission. Nothing too dangerous. I actually expected her to conduct it while staying on the resort, but she appears to have decided to get close to the target.”

  “Meaning he must be cute,” Audrey declared before biting into her toast.

  Meredith could be a bit of a maneater. Sex was something she had no problem with. Intimacy, though… Like the rest of the mothers, she had trust issues.

  Personally, Audrey thought she just needed to meet the right person. That’s what it had taken for Audrey, and now Carla. She’d met Philip, and after a tumultuous start, had never been happier, even if she’d more or less retired.

  But not working for KM anymore, the agency that had helped drag her and her son out of an impossible situation, didn’t mean those ties with the women she’d bonded with broke. They remained as strong as ever. Which was why Mother’s explanation niggled.

  “She wouldn’t abandon me this close to the wedding.” Meredith wouldn’t do that knowing how Carla’s nerves would be shot. Audrey had spent time with Carla, heard her friend hyperventilating as she paced the resort bedroom.

  “I’m getting married.” She fluttered her hands.

  “It’s going to be amazing!” Audrey enthused.

  “Will it? I never imagined this day happening. Ever.”

  Carla had spent so long being tough and taking care of Nico, that she’d not imagined she had room in her heart for anyone else.

  Audrey had spent a bunch of time running scared herself. But now with Mason, she could do anything.

  After the baby was born.

  She put a hand on her stomach.

  “Meredith hasn’t abandoned you. I assure you, she’ll be back in plenty of time to soothe your anxiety. Speaking of which, I have Ativan,” Mother offered, pointing to her purse.

  Carla scowled. “I don’t need drugs.”

  “But you will need copious amounts of alcohol tonight,” Tanya, the usually staid member of their group stated. She’d loosened up quite a bit since meeting Devon on a mission. Happiness suited her, and she needed to make up for lost fun times.

  “Do we have to do a bachelorette?” Carla groaned. “I swear, if anyone hires strippers…”

  “Don’t blame us if they show up. Blame Meredith.”

  “Think she’ll slip out to join us?” Audrey asked. Things really were more fun with the Southern belle.

  “I’m sure you can all manage to get drunk on your own. Now, can we be done? Or do I have to shoot all of you?”

  Audrey chose to eat some bacon but exchanged a glance with the other mothers. Only they never had a chance to act. As if Mother conspired against them, they were kept apart with various tasks until it was time to go out and party.

  Until they finally ditched Mother.

  Carla waited while they all gathered on the rooftop balcony before saying, “Something doesn’t feel right. I think we need to find Meredith.”

  “You heard Mother. She’s fine and will be back soon. In the meantime…” It was Portia who grinned mischievously as she opened her bag and pulled o
ut a headband. It said bride and had pink antennae that ended in tiny penises.

  The wide eyes on Carla’s face were worth it. “I am not wearing that.”

  More of them emerged.

  They all wore the penis headbands and spent the day giggling. But it seemed wrong without Meredith.

  Chapter Eight

  Hugo had been on edge ever since he woke next to Ariel. He’d bolted from her room and immediately stripped and showered.

  Not because he felt dirty. On the contrary. He felt energized and aware. The scent of Ariel clung to him, and he enjoyed it too much.

  He had to scrub it off. Scour her from his skin and mind. Irrational, yes, but he’d finally reached an age and time in his life where he just wasn’t going to try anymore. He wasn’t meant to be with a woman. They lied. They put on airs. And none pretended more than the one in his guest bedroom.

  How had she made him sleep? Could it be a drug?

  He spent the day in his office after that, faking work. Mostly trying to find new ways to discover who his guest really was.

  Hugo drummed his fingers on his desk and frowned at the report on his screen. A report with nothing in it. Which bothered him because he’d not been exaggerating when he claimed that he had better resources than Pierrot. He could access things the police couldn’t. He’d run her fingerprints against every known database that carried them. Done a search on her appearance, as well. Even omitting the red hair in case it wasn’t natural. Nothing. She’d not committed a crime that she was ever arrested for. Hadn’t been declared missing by anyone.

  Ariel appeared to be just as she claimed. An innocent woman who’d suffered an accident and couldn’t remember her past. She never fell out of character. He should know, he watched, not in person but remotely. The only place she didn’t have a camera monitoring her was in the bathroom. But given that she’d arrived with nothing, he highly doubted she could magic herself a phone and call anyone.

  Despite monitoring for heightened interest in the property or intruders, there’d been nothing since her arrival—if he ignored the snake, which he still wasn’t sure about. Given her abrupt appearance on his beach, though, he ordered even more cameras to watch the perimeter.