Wet Work: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

by Carmen Faye

  After a moment, without saying anything, he pulled the covers back and got in, too. I closed my eyes, and he moved closer. Maybe he wanted to stay. Maybe he knew that it was what I needed. He had a knack for knowing what I needed. Either way, he pulled me against him and curled his body around mine like a question mark, making me feel like maybe I wasn’t just someone he would forget about the next day, after all.

  Chapter Twelve

  When I woke up, I didn’t recognize the room, and for a moment I had no idea where I was. My head throbbed dully. I hadn’t been drunk last night, but the alcohol still took its toll. I turned my head, and Leah was asleep next to me, her blonde hair half over her face. She looked younger when she was sleeping; her blue eyes closed, a slight frown between her brows. Maybe she was dreaming about dead bodies again. I reached out a hand and brushed the hair out of her face. She sighed and smacked her lips slowly, but didn’t wake.

  I slid out of bed, trying not to disturb the covers and wake her. I padded barefoot across the room to the bathroom. It was a woman’s bathroom with lotions and all sorts of girly things everywhere.

  I used the toilet and splashed cold water on my face. I took some toothpaste on my finger and rubbed it on my teeth, so I was agreeable at least. There was nothing worse than morning breath. I turned around and inspected my back. There were little red half-moons where she’d dug her nails into my skin during her orgasm. That had been hot as hell.

  Leah was good in bed, and it was evident that she’d been with a couple of guys before. Her innocence wasn’t fake, but it wasn’t complete, either. There was something about that which made her that much more interesting. I wanted to see her again. I wanted to do this again. And I was lucky that I had to see her again because she was the job.

  When I walked out of the bathroom, I gathered my clothes and began to pull them on, silently hopping about, so I didn’t sit on the bed and wake her. As I buttoned my pants, I noticed she was awake, her big blue eyes following me around the room.

  “Morning,” she said softly.

  “Hey.” I smiled. “Did I wake you?”

  She shook her head. “I’m an early riser, and I have to go to work.”

  Right. It was Tuesday. Seeing her last night and going out and having sex had made it feel like a Friday night.

  “I need to get going, too.”

  She nodded and sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest. She was shy now where last night she had been open and willing to bare it all. I’d loved that side of her, but there was something endearing about her shyness, too. It made me feel like the guys she’d been with had been lucky to have her. That included me. This girl wasn’t loose.

  I followed the trail of my clothes, adding each piece as I came across it. My shoes and socks were at the very bottom of the stairs where I didn’t remember taking them off. We’d both been caught up in each other. I pulled on the socks and shoes, as Leah was downstairs in a robe.

  “You don’t want some coffee?”

  I shook my head. “I really have to get going.”

  “Can I give you a lift to your bike?”

  I shook my head again. I didn’t want to spend time with the domestic routine. I didn’t want to feel like I was a part of this little life. I wasn’t. I wanted to get out of here and report on my progress; treat it like the job it was. Leah nodded and came over to me.

  “Alright then.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed me on the mouth—a quick, chaste kiss. Then she opened the front door, and I stepped out into the morning light.

  I turned around before I walked away and Leah stopped in the middle of closing the door, her incredible blue eyes looking at me with surprise.

  “I’d really like to see where you work,” I said. “Do you think you could show me sometime? I’ll pick you up for lunch or something.”

  She smiled, and her face lit up like it was something she hadn’t thought I would ever ask. She thought about it for a second. “I would love to, if you really mean it.”

  I nodded. “I do. Call me,” I said, and waited until she fished the phone out of the robe pocket, then rattled off my number. When my phone rang, I answered it, then hung up. “I have your number.”

  She smiled again, and her dimples appeared. I realized that a part of her was just a very simple girl that needed acknowledgment. I smiled back, my grin spreading as she still held the phone, like she was expecting me to call, and waved before I turned and walked away.

  She waited until I was in the street before she closed the door. The other door opened, and an older woman stepped out in running clothes. She glared at me. I wondered how much her neighbor had heard. I smiled at her as she glowered then turned and ran away from me.

  My phone rang, and I knew it was Butch before looking at the caller ID. I walked away from the Duplex in the opposite direction so there would be no way that Leah would hear me speak.

  “What the fuck have you been doing?” Butch asked. “I tried to get a hold of your ass last night, and you ignored me.”

  “I was working.” I thought about Leah. It had been a workout, at least.

  “Whale shit!” That was Butch-speak for he was skeptical.

  “I connected with the witness again, and she’s… warming up to me. I don’t think it’ll be long before I can use her to get access to the body. The tide is going out, so I’m going to go down to the beach and see if the police tape is down. If it is, I going to have a look. I don’t expect to find anything, but maybe I’ll get lucky.”

  Butch grunted. “It’s about fucking time, you limp dicked motherfucker.”

  I grinned. It was nice to hear something positive from him for a change. “The Demon Aviators were in the Parrot last night.”

  “Those pig humping fuck waffles. You know we can’t touch them until we know for sure.”

  “If they start it, I’m going to finish it.” I wasn’t in the mood for games. The Aviators were first on my to-do list, and I didn’t mean it in a nice way. “If we don’t find Jonas soon, dead or alive, shit is going to start going down.”

  “I know. But we can’t touch the moose fuckers until we know for sure. You just do what you can and let me deal with the fucking politics,” Butch sneered before hanging up.

  Dealing with politics was one thing, but the Aviators didn’t only work through their leaders, and if they were going to mess with any of us, I was going to “deal with politics” myself.

  I called up an Uber and smoked the last of my cigarettes while I waited. This early in the morning it took a little while before a battered Corolla rolled to a stop. The driver tried to engage me in conversation, but I wasn’t biting, and we rode in silence until he dropped me at the Parrot. I wiped the dew from the saddle of my Fat Bob and thumbed it to life.

  The tide was still going out when I arrived at the beach, but it was far enough out that the pool where Jonas had been found was visible. I pursed my lips, making a note of the fact that I had already tagged the body as Jonas.

  I parked well away from OIMB and left my leather jacket and cell behind with the bike, and walked along the beach until I reached what would become the tide pool. The tape was gone. OIMB was just up the hill, but this was open beach, and I had as much right to be here as anyone else. The only reason I hadn’t already paid a visit is crossing police tape into an investigation scene would cause headaches I didn’t need if I got caught. But with the tape down, I was free to poke around.

  I spent twenty minutes wading up to my ass in cold Pacific water. I knew this was a long shot, but it had to be done. What the cops hadn’t picked over the ocean had probably already claimed. I wasn’t wrong. After feeling around and under every rock and outcropping, I couldn’t have been wetter if I’d fallen out of a fucking boat—all only to confirm there weren’t shit to be found.

  “Fuck!” I snarled as I sloshed my way out of the pool, shaking my arms to throw off as much water as possible. The ride home was going to fucking suck.

  It wasn’t just the fact that we neede
d to get this wrapped up before a gang war started. It was also the fact that the more time I spent with Leah, the more she would fall for me. Her reaction this morning, when I asked about her work, showed she was hoping it was more than just a one-off kind of deal. I didn’t need her to get so attached that I couldn’t just dump her. Despite myself, I had developed a soft spot for her. Most people never found a dead body, and I didn’t want to fuck her up any more than she already was. I should drop her right now, before she got clingy, but I still needed her.

  I returned to my bike and checked my phone. Nothing. Butch must be busy bitching at someone else. I shrugged into my jacket, thumbed the hog into life, and roared towards home and some dry clothes. I’d dangled the bait earlier this morning. Now I was going to try to set the hook.

  Chapter Thirteen

  There was something about Pax that was different than the big bad image he was trying to throw off. I’d seen it the first time, but I’d been very drunk. Last night I’d seen it, too, and I couldn’t help but feel that he was someone else besides the tough guy he showed everyone.

  I liked it. I liked the person he was when he was with me. He treated me like I was delicate, like the world could break me and maybe, just maybe, he would be there to protect me. Of course, I wasn’t going to get ahead of myself and assume this was going anywhere. We’d only known each other for a couple of days, and sex didn’t mean anything if it wasn’t backed up by other things.

  But he wanted to see where I worked. And it felt like we had some kind of connection. It felt like it could have the potential to be more.

  I’d slept well for the first time since I’d seen the body. I’d fallen asleep straight away with Pax’s arms around me. I hadn’t seen the face, I hadn’t had nightmares, and I’d felt refreshed when I’d woken up. That was all something to me. A sign of sorts. Maybe Pax was in my life for a reason. It wasn’t coincidence that someone like him ran into someone like me. Our worlds just wouldn’t cross paths by accident.

  I wanted to see him more. I didn’t want to push it further than he wanted it to go, though. The last thing I wanted was for him to think I was a clingy nuisance. I’d been a mess when he’d met me, and I wanted him to see that that wasn’t who I really was.

  I got in the shower. The hot water streamed over my body, and when I washed, I could still feel Pax between my legs. What remained of our night together washed down the drain. I dried my hair and got dressed. I was feeling pretty good but by the time I was ready to leave the nagging dread and the depression had all returned. I thought it would have been gone completely, but it had only been dormant while I was with Pax.

  I felt like I was sinking back into the hopelessness and depression I’d been in the past couple of days. The fact that I couldn’t get away from this dark feeling scared me, and the only two ways I’d been able to deal with it so far had been with alcohol and sex. Was there no other way for me to deal with it? I didn’t want to become the same person I’d been before I’d moved here. I wanted to be able to deal with everything the right way.

  Maybe I did have to go see someone, the way he’d suggested. But I didn’t want to talk about my issues now because my issues were going to lead to my issues in the past and that was too much for me to deal with. There was no way I was going back there, not even in my mind. I’d managed to block it off, and I had been happy until that damn body had washed up and jarred my memories so that it was difficult to keep it all together again.

  I stepped outside, and the smell of the salt air revived me a bit. I’d give a lot to have a house on the ocean, but homes with an ocean view cost a hell of a lot more than I could give, and I had to make do with the tang of the salt air a few miles in.

  I arrived at work with scant minutes to spare. I had no set hours, but OIMB did keep a loose check on their employees. Tuesday and Thursday’s were my lab days, and I busied myself with my tasks. It generally took a full day to run all my tests. I’d started them yesterday. I would finish them today then spend the afternoon analyzing the data I’d collected and entering it into my spreadsheet. It was the never-ending cycle—collect samples, analyze samples, record the results. Rinse and repeat. But a day and a half in the lab was more than made up for by the half-days I spent on the ocean collecting samples.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out. It was an unrecognized number. “Hello?”

  “Leah? Pax. Ready for lunch?”

  “Today?” I asked in surprise as I glanced at the clock. It was approaching eleven. “Now?”

  “Well, not this minute. But say in thirty minutes. Is today not a good day?”

  I floundered, unsure of what to say, then grinned and decided to go with it. I could feel the creeping darkness recede a tiny bit. “No, today would be perfect. I’ll show you around afterward?”

  “Perfect. I’ll be there in thirty.”

  Before I could respond, he was gone. I stood, staring at the phone. I’d hoped he wasn’t blowing smoke this morning when he said he wanted to see where I worked, but to have him actually call, and the same day, made me smile. I realized I smiled a lot when I was around Pax, and that made me smile even more.

  I glanced at the clock again. I had thirty minutes to finish piping the samples to check for pH, dissolved oxygen, salinity, suspended solids, and other tests to determine the health of the water. If I hurried, I could just finish before Pax arrived.

  I was pulling off my sterile gloves when the intercom chimed. “Leah? You have a visitor at the front desk.”

  “Be right there,” I said loudly so the box could hear me. I took a moment to check my look in the bathroom mirror then smiled. I couldn’t believe it, but I felt all tingly. I removed my worn and stained lab coat and hung it on the peg by the door as I walked out and hurried down the hall to the visitor entrance, lobby, and gift shop.

  I had seen him before he saw me. He was standing by the gift shop window in the lobby; hands in his pockets, as he looked over the knickknacks that OIMB sold as part of its fundraising. He’d changed since this morning and was wearing nicer jeans, a white shirt with a collar showing above his leather jacket, and a pair of boots instead of his grimy sneakers. I glanced at Melanie, the receptionist, as I walked past and she glanced at me with big eyes. That’s right sweetheart, he was here for me.

  “Pax?”

  He turned and smiled at me before pulling me into a kiss. He kept it PG, maybe PG-13, but I felt it all the way to my toes just the same. “Ready?” he asked.

  “Sure!” I glanced over my shoulder and nearly snickered at Melanie’s slack-jawed amazement. She clearly couldn’t believe that me, the quiet chic that worked in the hydrology lab, had a total hottie picking her up for lunch.

  It was a glorious day outside; the sun was bright and the temperature perfect. Pax steered me away from the employee parking lot towards the visitors.

  “Where’re we going?”

  “Lunch. A place called The Shipwreck. Heard of it?”

  “No, I mean my car is that way,” I said, trying to arc him toward the employee parking area.

  “Not taking your car.”

  “We’re not?”

  “Nope. My bike.”

  I began to dig in my heels. “I’ve never ridden a bike before,” I said, trying to slow him down, but he kept pushing me along with a hand on my back.

  “Well, in five minutes you won’t be able to say that anymore.”

  I swallowed hard but stopped resisting. I could feel my mouth drying out in apprehension, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. We arrived at a sleek, black motorcycle and he handed me a helmet. I took it but didn’t know what to do with it. He noticed my hesitation and rolled his eyes as he grinned.

  “Jesus. Here,” he said as he put the helmet on my head then adjusted the strap. He then topped his own head with another one. “Wait until I get on,” he said as he swung a leg over.

  I’d never ridden a motorcycle, but I had ridden a horse, so I, at least, knew partially how to get on.
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  “Let me ride the bike,” he said as the machine rumbled to life.

  “What does that mean?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

  “It means, don’t help me. Just sit back there and let me do all the work. If you try to help, I’ll have to adjust for you shifting your weight around, and that’ll make for a wobblier ride. So just let me do it, okay?”

  “I’m not doing anything!”

  He chuckled and stomped the bike into gear before pulling away in a roll of thunder.

  When we pulled into The Shipwreck, or the Wreck as the locals called it, I’d felt like I’d been flying. It was like being out on the boat, but without the wet feet. I felt alive and renewed in a way I had only felt when it was just the ocean and me. I stepped off the bike and couldn’t stop smiling.

  “You liked?” he asked with a grin.