Better (The Change Series Book 2)

by Melanie Jayne

  His eyes flashed, “I’m not gonna paw through your purse.”

  Was he teasing me? I turned on my heel so quickly my hair swung into my face. “Why not? You’ve sifted through my entire life.” I strode to the table to get my keys. “I can’t tell you how many people have called about being questioned about me.” The first call was from Tony Alessi, Zoe’s husband. He’d told me that I’d “done good” by hiring Forde.

  Forde’s deep chuckle followed me.

  I returned and showed him which key worked which lock. He thanked me and left.

  Phew! I finally had some time to get my head together. He made me crazy, and even worse, I think he knew it and enjoyed it. I checked on the lasagna then gathered the plates, silverware and napkins. The busywork calmed my emotions.

  I dug through a drawer for matches. Fuck me, this isn’t a date. No candle light. I was acting like an idiot. I slammed the drawer shut.

  I ran the water until it was really hot and scrubbed my hands. I needed to get control of myself. Feeling better, I cut a slit down the length of the bread. I felt back in control when I heard the lock turn on the door.

  Forde swept into the kitchen and placed two bottles on my counter. “Want me to put your keys by your purse?”

  “Yeah, that’d be good. Thank you.” I bent over to check on the lasagna in the oven. “It’s going to be about ten more minutes. This oven might be dying. I don’t think its holding temperature.”

  He returned from the dining area which was really a table at the back of my living room before you walked into the kitchen. “Gives us time for a glass before we eat. Where do you keep your wine glasses?”

  I pointed to the cabinet over the sink. “Up there on the top shelf. Can you reach them?”

  He stretched his arm to reach for the stemware. I stood there fascinated as the muscles shifted. He was so strong his muscles stretched his shirt across his back.

  I think he caught me blushing as I took the glasses from his hands to wash. He started opening drawers, looking for the corkscrew. I tried to shake off the blush as I dried the glasses with a fresh towel. He moved next to me, and his big hand covered mine as he took the glass. I felt the buzz of electricity from his touch.

  He opened the bottle expertly, and I got the feeling that Lucas Forde could do most things easily and skillfully. He handed me a filled glass.

  I took a sip. I didn’t drink very much or often. I didn’t have time or the money.

  “Like it?” His gaze was on my lips, which made me lick them.

  “It’s good.” I smiled, and like an idiot, I continued to stand in my kitchen looking at him with a dopey smile on my face.

  The weird thing was that he was doing the same, and it felt nice. I glanced at the timer and realized I needed to put the bread in.

  He raised an eyebrow. “What can I do to help?”

  “Keep my glass filled.” I dropped my head looking at the floor, horrified at my words. My thoughts slipped out too easily when he was near.

  He laughed deep, and well, sexy. “Sounds like a plan.”

  Oh God, I’m flirting. I’m such an idiot.

  ***

  I couldn’t help but smile at Layla. She was obviously more comfortable in the kitchen and more confident. She moved efficiently and effortlessly. She had shown some attitude and been a little flirty since I’d arrived. I liked it, and I could tell she wasn’t used to flirting, which made it more fun. I decided to keep the wine flowing, and then maybe I could draw a few more secrets out of this woman.

  I leaned against the far counter, out of her way, watching her move around the small cooking area. “You’re good at this,” I said.

  “I guess.” She tried to blow off the compliment.

  “Do you cook every day or only when you’re nervous?”

  “Oh, uhm, I like it. I like all of it, you know? In high school, when everybody else was planning their careers and their futures, I wanted to have a home. The whole thing—the house, the dog, and kids. I wanted to pack lunches, hunt for homework, and drive them to school. The best part would be fixing dinner for everybody.” She looked wistful, and then shook her head. “It’s not that I didn’t want to work, ’cause I would. I just thought my family would be my focus.” She went on, but her voice was distant. “I thought I was going to get that, but …” She shrugged and pulled the bread out. “I didn’t know if you wanted cheese on your garlic bread, so I did some with and without. Oh damn, I didn’t even ask, do you want garlic bread?”

  “Yes, and it all looks good.” I could see the golden butter glisten from across the room.

  She continued putting the meal together. After she sliced the bread, I moved closer. I took over placing the slices into the basket. I kept my voice low. “You know it’s not too late for your dream.” I glanced at her from the corner of my eye.

  She froze for a second, and then started to remove the foil from the lasagna. “I’m not sure I’m meant to have dreams.”

  My gut went tight as the realizations hit me. You’re wrong, and I’m going to give them to you. If my gut said it would happen, then I’d trust that it would. First, I needed to tie up some loose ends, and then I was going to start making Layla’s dreams come true. I felt the adrenaline pulse through my body. This was a totally different path for me but I’d learned years ago to listen to my gut, so I started to plan.

  Chapter Five

  I’d been thinking about her ever since she walked into my office. She was all woman. I would bet my classic ride she had no idea how attractive she was. Those green eyes reminded me of a meadow in the spring, and I loved that body—big tits and a soft ass. I liked that she was innocent and blushed easily; it would be my honor to educate her. When she looked at me, I wanted to sit up a little taller and work harder. She made me feel powerful. For a man like me, that means everything.

  We sat down at her table, and I refilled her wine glass. I didn’t want her drunk, but I wanted to see if she would relax a little more, drop some of her walls.

  She cut into the lasagna, and steam rose as the melted cheese oozed from the square she removed. She handed a plate to me. “I hope you like it.” She dropped her gaze shyly.

  “It looks great.” I waited until she had her square on her plate before I dug in. “God, this is good, Lay.”

  She bit her bottom lip and smiled. “I got the recipe from a lady that used to live next door when I was growing up.”

  “I’m happy I decided to come by. Lucky me.” I continued shoveling the food into my mouth. “I don’t get the chance to eat very many home cooked meals.”

  “How did you become an investigator?” She took another sip of her wine. “Aunt Nora says you’re the best in the city. I mean you solved my case so fast when the police couldn’t.”

  I didn’t want to tell her I thought the cops knew that Ramon Moreno had attacked her. Detective Eames had been stalling, possibly in hopes that Moreno would try again. Perhaps this time, he could bump up the charge. Not good for Layla’s safety, but good for his rep. He was a man who liked to brag about his cases cleared record. I didn’t need to talk; my results did it for me. “I knew where to look, and I know Salvador Ulloa. We have a basic understanding when it comes to business.”

  Her face paled at the name.

  “You know him?” Her chest heaved so hard I thought her tits were going to burst the snaps on her blouse. “You do business with him?” Her eyes were wild.

  I continued explaining. “We’ve met across a table a time or two. He’s a good business man who doesn’t like mess. Moreno was messy, going after you and Mrs. Alessi. Vador claims he didn’t order it, and so he had no problem telling me who was responsible.” I watched her absorb this information. I wouldn’t hide from her. I wasn’t a nice man. I dealt with scum, and I did ugly things to right wrongs. She needed to know this about me.

  Layla made an ugly noise, part snort, part chuckle. “So he doesn’t like mess, but he can have Brian ki
lled?”

  “I didn’t ask. I can if you’d like…” I put my fork down and waited for her answer. “However, he won’t go down for it. One of his boys will take the fall if needed. He keeps his hands clean. It’s been years since Vador did any wet work.”

  She stared at me for a full minute. “I, no, don’t do that, ask him.” Her voice had gone husky. “I don’t think I want him to think about me at all.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Well, the offer’s on the table.” Maybe I was showing off a little bit. I had made it very clear that Mrs. Shepherd was off the table.

  She smiled. “You’re cocky.” She tilted her head slightly as she considered me. “I don’t know how well that serves you. Subtle and quiet might work better.” Then she winked, followed by a blush.

  I flashed a charming smile. I was enjoying her interest in my welfare. “I’m good because I trust my gut, and it takes care of me. It has since I was seven.” I reached for another piece of bread.

  “What happened when you were seven?” I was seated at her right and she turned her body toward mine. “I mean if you don’t mind telling me.”

  I did mind, but I had opened that door, and she deserved to know all of me. It was only fair since I was way ahead of her in the knowledge of our background. I already knew things about the kind of home-life she grew up with, and the type of marriage she’d had. I should share a little. “It might spoil your dinner, Lay.” I watched her as she processed this.

  “I saw my husband bleed out, so I think I can hand it.”

  I shrugged and took a gulp of wine. “I didn’t understand it, but I knew it was bad, really bad that Mr. Parkinson was climbing into bed with me naked. Even though he told me it was the way men loved one another. It felt like all of the muscles in my belly flexed at one time and held.” I felt a bead of sweat roll down my spine. Telling this story never got any easier.

  “What?” Her hand snaked out and grabbed my wrist. Her eyes were filled with shock.

  “My mom was dead, and there was no father listed on my birth certificate. I grew up in an orphanage in Missouri. The Parkinsons met me at a meet-and-pick event, where perspective parents come to a picnic and look over the kids to shop for the one that looks right. They expressed an interest, and after a few meetings at St. Bartholomew’s, they were allowed to take me home for a weekend.”

  “Oh, my God,” she breathed and loosened her grip on my wrist, but she didn’t let go completely.

  I finished the wine in my glass. “The second night, I woke up when I felt him slide into bed behind me. He told me to be quiet, and he rolled me over and kissed me on the mouth.”

  I heard her sharp intake of breath and a whispered, “No.”

  “I bit his lip and wouldn’t let go. He started yelling and made enough noise his wife ran in to check on us. She couldn’t pull me off because I would have taken his lip with me. The fucker had a tough time explaining what had happened, and why he was naked.” I tried to arrange my features to show that I was calm, not that I could feel the muscles flexing in my thighs. “Needless to say, I wasn’t placed with them. I made sure I didn’t get picked again.”

  “So you grew up in an orphanage?” Her hand was now covering the back of mine. Her fingers burrowing between mine.

  “They called it a school, but yeah. Then I enlisted the day I turned eighteen. Army. Did twelve years then looked up a guy I had met. He was here, and he taught me what I needed to know to do this job. My gut kept me alive in some pretty ugly places. But I wouldn’t say I’m cocky. I’ve got limits. I just like to push them.” I ended with a nonchalant shrug.

  She nodded once like she accepted my explanation. Then her brows drew together, “What happened to Mr. Parkinson? I hope he went to jail, and they dealt with him there.” Her eyes went hard with anger.

  Bloodthirsty little thing. I liked it. “No, they did nothing. Later, I looked him up online. It seems that about two years after that incident he died in a hunting accident with his father-in-law. The newspaper article called it suspicious, but nothing ever came of it.”

  Her gaze met mine. “So there’s justice, and then there’s justice.”

  Like I said, bloodthirsty. And perfect for me. She understood.

  “More wine? Or do you have to work the early shift tomorrow?” I lifted the bottle.

  She went statue still and looked away. The room turned tense. “No, but thank you.”

  “Everything all right at work?” Something had happened that upset her.

  “It would be if I still had a job.” She looked like wanted to punch something.

  I kept my tone mild. I understood the feeling of frustration and anger. “What happened to your job?” I wanted to hear the facts, and I knew that she was close to tears.

  She turned in her chair and stretched to reach the end of the table, grabbing an envelope, and then handed it to me. “You can read it.”

  I read the one page letter, and then looked at the check that made up page two. “So they gave you this?” I fought to keep my voice even. “When?”

  “I got a call this morning to meet with H.R.at three. They told me that ‘the dramatic events that had transpired in my personal life’ had interfered with scheduling. They hoped that when my personal life calmed, I would reapply, and they would do everything to find a place for me.” Her hands were flexing on the table. “Of course, I would start over at the lowest level pay.” She shook her head once in a hard negative motion. “I’ve worked there since I was fuckin’ fifteen years old. Good to know that twenty years means nothing.”

  Wanting to comfort her, I started, “Layla—”

  “No, please. I really need to say this. They acted like giving me two weeks’ pay was a big deal. Look at that.” She leaned over and pulled the check from my hand. “It’s based on twenty goddamned hours. Twenty years, and they figure it based on my minimum hours.” She dropped her head into her hands on the table.

  I moved my chair closer to hers and put my arm around her shoulders. “I hate that this happened. It sucks.” It did suck, but I could use it to my advantage. Gina wasn’t working out at Limited. Christ, the woman had managed to lock herself out of the office on a bathroom break and had to go down to Tye’s office to use the phone to call in for help. I’d just found our new receptionist.

  She slowly straightened. “That sort of sums up a lot of my life right now. It all sucks.”

  I kept my arm in place. “I know it seems that way. I get that. But I also know you’re a survivor and strong—so very strong. Things will change for you.”

  She gave me a small smile. “Did your magic gut tell you that?”

  I returned the smile. “Yeah, and it’s never wrong.” My phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and checked the screen. “Excuse me, I need to take this.”

  She nodded and started to clear the table while I walked into the living room and stood next to the front door.

  When I finished the call, I found Layla running water in the kitchen sink, her back to me. “Lay, I hate to eat and run, but I need to take care of something.”

  She turned and grabbed a towel to dry her hands. “I understand. I’m sorry I didn’t have anything for desert.”

  “No worries. Dinner was great.” I moved closer to her.

  “I’m glad you liked it.”

  I leaned in and kissed her. She made a surprised sound. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into my body. After the moment of surprise passed, she kissed me back. Opening for me, letting me taste her.

  When we separated, she stared at me with huge eyes and licked her lips. Then she surprised me by looping her arms around my neck and pulling me in for another kiss.

  My phone vibrated again. I needed to hit the road, but God, I didn’t want to leave. I broke the kiss and rested my forehead against hers. “Gotta go, Lay.”

  She moved away from my body, and it took everything in me not to follow her warmth. I wrapped my arm around her waist
and we moved toward the back door. Once there, I turned her to face me. “I got some things to tie up. Give me a few days, and then I’ll take you to dinner.”

  She blinked her eyes several times. “You’re asking me out?”

  “Layla, pay attention. I just spent five minutes kissing you, so of course I want to ask you out. Christ, what do you think we’re doing here?” I waited for her to answer.

  She looked a little dazed. “I don’t know.”

  Poor innocent. “Babe, you’re killing me. Now, I got to ask…When I call, are you going to say yes?”

  “Well, yeah, sure.” She gave me a smirk.

  I kissed her one more time, deeply, committing every moment to memory. “Lock up after me.”

  “Yes, sir.” She saluted.

  I didn’t want to show my entire hand yet, but I knew that she was going to go crazy trying to find another job. “I might know of a position that’s opening up, so don’t sign up at the first place you pass that says ‘Help Wanted.’”

  “That would be great.” I could see the worry leave her eyes. “But I might not hang around after the trial, so they might not want me.” She frowned.

  “I’ll do some checking, and I’ll talk to them, let them know your situation, and if it’s cool then I’ll let you know.” Of course it would be cool. I was the boss—but she wouldn’t be leaving town after the trial. I looked forward to convincing her to stay.

  Her eyes turned serious. “Thank you for everything. I mean it. I really appreciate everything you’ve done and are doing for me.”

  I knew this was one of her hot buttons, so I didn’t want to dwell on it. “You can pay me back with dinners and cookies.”

  That smile lit up her face. “That I can do.”

  I listened for her to throw her locks, and then I checked my phone as I strode to my Expedition. It took me a second to realize I was still smiling.