Bubblegum Blonde

by anna snow

  Silas continued to study me from beneath long, thick, black lashes that I'd give up a couple of toes to possess.

  "She didn't have any enemies that I know of, but like I said, I was just getting to know her. Do you think it was personal?"

  "I wouldn't know." He shrugged his lightly tanned shoulders.

  He prowled around the bar and took a step toward me, then another and another, until he stood so close to me that I could smell his heady cologne and feel the heat of his bare chest against my covered one.

  "Let's cut the chatter." He brushed the hair away from my face. "Lydia handled all of the scheduling and monetary transactions, but since she passed, we've been a little out of sorts. I thought my day was clear today, but then you showed up on our doorstep, so you must've had an appointment I missed. Lydia wouldn't have told you about this place unless she trusted you."

  I stared up at this big hunk of man twirling my hair around his finger with what I was certain was a dumfounded expression. What the heck was he talking about? Scheduling? Monetary transactions?

  "You obviously like what you see." He grinned down at me. "And I'm pretty impressed with you myself." He gave me a slow once over. "Not all women who come here for our attentions are tens, but you…" He trailed the pad of his thumb over my jawline. "I'm definitely going to enjoy you, and I guarantee you're in for the time of your life."

  What in the hell was happening? I blinked up at him, completely lost as to what the heck he was talking about. What had I gotten myself into?

  The thought had just stomped through my mind when he grasped the back of my neck in his big, hot palm, and before I could protest (not that I'm sure I actually would have), his lips landed on mine in a searing hot kiss that I felt all the way down to the tips of my toes.

  His tongue slipped in and slid against mine, and I was on the verge of being hopelessly lost. It took a moment for my brain to reengage, but once it did, I knew that if I didn't stop Silas and find out what exactly was going on here, I was going to be in some serious trouble. Pleasurable trouble but trouble nonetheless.

  I pressed a hand against his chest and leaned back away from his fiery kiss. He peered down at me with confusion but didn't resist. He looked like he was surprised that I'd actually told him no, but before he could question my seemingly odd behavior, a door closed overhead, and giggling drifted down to us.

  I looked up and saw a tall woman with auburn hair come practically skipping down the stairs. Max followed along behind her. She carried her high heels in one hand, her purse in the other, and her clothing was just the slightest bit rumpled.

  It was the walk of shame.

  I'd seen it a million times in college. This mystery woman and Max had just gotten lucky.

  "Same time next week?" he asked. She giggled and nodded. Max smiled, opened the door for her, and saw her out to her car.

  Same time next week?

  A sexually satisfied woman?

  Scheduling.

  Monetary transactions.

  A large residence secluded away from prying eyes.

  What Silas meant when he mentioned women coming to him for services.

  Suddenly it all became clear.

  I was in a brothel. I was in a male brothel full of gigolos!

  I stared up at the rooms and watched as two more outrageously attractive men led one woman to a room from the back of the house, and then another man led another woman down the stairs and out onto the patio.

  Holy Nikes. Lydia was running a male brothel. That's what she'd been doing in the motel and why she wanted the cabin to be secluded. Women from the city could come out to the Grove and see their stud without running the risk of someone seeing them. And with Lydia supposedly being a homebody, no one would ever guess that she was at the helm.

  The entire idea was actually a stroke of genius. I had to give Lydia props.

  "Is something wrong?" Silas asked as I hopped off of the stool like something had just shot me in the bum.

  "No, nothing. I just… I need to go. I'm sorry."

  "Are you all right?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

  I looked up at him then at the entryway where Max had returned and was watching us intently.

  "I'm fine. I just—I have to go. I'm sorry." I wiggled my way out of the hot, firm grip he had on my waist and made a beeline for the door.

  I fished my keys out of my pocket, hopped into my car, passed through the gate, and sped back toward the office. I couldn't wait to tell the girls what I'd found at the cabin. Lydia had been a naughty girl.

  * * *

  I'd left the cabin so quickly, excited to have found out what Lydia was into, that I'd gotten turned around on my way back to the main road. Night was starting to fall as I finally found my way back onto the main street of Trinity Grove. I followed the road leading out of town and turned on my headlights. It was then that I realized that I'd left my purse behind at the cabin. What had I been thinking? How could I have been so careless?

  Normally, I always left it in the car. I had no idea what had possessed me to take it inside with me. I'd been kicking myself since I'd glanced over and realized it wasn't in the seat beside me. Thank goodness I had slid my phone and car key in my jeans pocket.

  I couldn't believe what I'd just discovered.

  Lydia was a madam. She ran what I'd just dubbed a stud farm. Brothel just sounded so snooty.

  How had she kept something like that a secret? My recent discovery answered a few of my question and added what felt like a million more. How many more layers of Lydia Hatchett were there to discover?

  Charities, affairs, a stud farm.

  She'd been a busy woman. How had she even had time to comb her hair, much less still be able to keep up the pretense that she was a homebody-housewife, I wondered.

  Darkness crept over the landscape as the last rays of daylight faded. I couldn't wait to get back to my place, call the girls, and share what I'd just discovered.

  I pulled to the side of the road and fired off a text to both Mandy and Kelly telling them to meet me at the office first thing in the morning because I had big news to share.

  I slid my phone back into my pocket and pulled back out onto the road.

  Mandy and Kelly would never believe it. I cranked up the radio and settled in for the long drive back to the city.

  I was about fifteen minutes outside the Grove, speeding down the road with a million questions rolling through my head and a Lenny Kravitz song blasting through the speakers, when a pair of headlights illuminated my car from behind.

  The bright beams lit up the interior of my Beetle like a spotlight. I tried to ignore the blinding light, but it was impossible. I figured the speeding vehicle behind me was just some teens out for a joyride or something of that nature. It was the end of summer after all.

  I kept my eye on the road and hoped the truck would pass me soon. That hope was short-lived. The truck accelerated and, before I had time to react, slammed into my back bumper.

  I couldn't have been more wrong. Whoever was driving that truck was no fun-seeking teenager.

  My tiny car took a sharp swerve to the right. I held the steering wheel in a death grip and fought to keep my Beetle on the road and out of the deep culvert alongside it. The truck ramming into me was large and black or dark blue in color. I couldn't be certain.

  The headlights were too bright for me to see who was driving, but at the moment, I didn't care. All I wanted was to get out of the situation alive.

  The engine of the truck roared as it picked up speed to ram into me again. I ground my teeth together and braced for impact. The truck accelerated and slammed into me harder this time. My tiny car flung forward, tires screeching as I struggled to stay on the blacktop. Even though I had the accelerator pressed all the way to the floor, I was now moving at a much slower pace than before. I heard the sound of metal grinding against rubber. I chanced a look in the side mirror and realized why.

  My rear fenders were smashed and crumpled in ag
ainst the tires, causing my speed to decrease. The smell of burning rubber reached my nose. I could hear my bumper scraping against the asphalt and knew it was hanging by a thread.

  But that was the least of my problems.

  My steering wheel would only turn to the right. I fought with all of my strength to keep the car in my lane and out of the culvert. My muscles screamed in protest as I pulled the wheel to the left in an effort to keep the car headed straight on the highway. My gaze zeroed in on the bridge up ahead.

  I was in one hell of a predicament. My car was totaled, the truck was three times the size of my little bug, and the driver, whoever he was, obviously wanted me dead. I glanced out the passenger side window at the deep culvert to my right, then ahead at the upcoming bridge. If I let the wheel go, the car would veer off to the right. My arm strength was zapped, and the car was starting to veer to the right despite my best efforts to keep it from doing so.

  Either I could let go of the wheel and take my chances hitting the deep culvert, or I could keep going and ultimately hit the bridge.

  I'd heard people talk about their life flashing before their eyes when in a life-or-death situation, and I'd always called it bullcorn…until now.

  In a flash, I saw myself laughing with Kelly and Mandy over wine and pizza in front of the television. I saw the smile on my face the day my office opened. I saw my cat Mickey nuzzling me with his little nose, and out of nowhere, I saw Detective Black's mischievous grin just before he kissed me.

  I had a sinking feeling that I'd always regret not having the chance to experience that last item…or maybe not.

  I didn't want to die, and I'd be darned if I let some schmuck take my life before I was finished living it.

  I took a deep breath. I would not die tonight.

  The driver of the truck saw his opportunity to slam into me again and took it.

  Only this time I saw him coming.

  I had two choices. Turn the wheel to the right and aim for the culvert when he hit me or slam head-on into the bridge. The way I saw it, there was only one option that I could possibly live through. I took a deep breath and braced myself for impact.

  The truck smashed into my car one final time. My head slammed into the side window, but I let go of the wheel, and it spun hard to the right. My tiny Beetle hit the side of the road and was airborne, then flipped in midair before landing in the ditch on its top.

  I was surprised that the roof hadn't caved in on impact and that I was still alive. I was hanging upside down from my seatbelt. I was still conscious but just barely. I'd never again roll my eyes when a car salesman prattled on about the five-star crash rating.

  My vision was blurry. I fished around on the roof of the car where all of my belongings now rested and nearly wept with joy when my hand connected with my cell phone. I heard the truck slowly approaching. I had no idea who was behind the wheel of that vehicle, but I knew without a doubt that his intentions were to kill me.

  The vehicle stopped. I heard it idling and listened for the door to open.

  My mind went into a tailspin. I felt around on the roof of the car but couldn't find my gun. I'd taken it out of the waist of my pants and set it in the passenger seat while I drove.

  What if whoever was behind the wheel of that truck got out and made sure he finished the job? Did he have a gun? A knife?

  I opened my one unswollen eye and dialed 9-1-1. Before the dispatcher answered, I heard the truck roar by. He hadn't gotten out. I guess he figured he'd accomplished what he'd set out to do.

  "9-1-1. What is your emergency?"

  "I've been in an accident…"

  CHAPTER SIX

  His nametag read Dr. Richard Hope, but it should've read Dr. Hotty McHotterson.

  I was starting to sweat just being in the same vicinity as the incredibly hot emergency room doctor while he finished wrapping my right wrist in an ACE bandage.

  "Just a few seconds and you'll be all done."

  I hadn't been to a lot of emergency rooms in my life, but I was fairly certain not all doctors looked like the hunk of hotness seated on a low stool before me. I expected to see a short, round man with grey hair wearing a long white coat. Instead I got mister tall-tan-and-handsome in a pair of well filled-out, dark blue scrubs.

  To say that I was pleasantly surprised would be an understatement.

  "I don't think I've ever treated a female private investigator before. This is a first for me."

  "I'm so happy to be the one to pop your female private eye cherry," I joked.

  He laughed a deep, rumbling laugh that warmed my insides.

  "Sassy," he teased with a saucy wink of his own.

  It had been a long time since I'd indulged in a little harmless flirtation, especially with someone as hunktastic as the doc. I forgot how good it felt.

  "The good thing is that your wrist isn't broken, but it is severely sprained and will be sore for a couple of weeks." He secured the bandage. "You're lucky. You could have been killed." He reached up and smoothed my hair off the giant bruise making itself at home along one side of my forehead.

  "That's a nasty bruise, but the scan didn't show anything serious." He checked the chart. "You'll have a headache for a couple of days. Ibuprofen should help with any pain, but if you experience any dizziness, nausea, or vomiting, you need to get back here immediately."

  "Thanks." I attempted a smile. "Honestly, being run off the road isn't a common occurrence. As a matter of fact, this is the first time anything like this has ever happened to me."

  He shook his head, and I took a second to appreciate his sharp profile. The doctor had the most mesmerizing blue eyes and full lips. His pale blond hair was slightly shaggy, as though he was a couple of weeks late for a trim. He was hands-down one of the handsomest men I'd ever seen.

  "But that's exactly what happened, isn't it?" he asked seriously. "Hopefully it won't happen again." His eyes met mine. "I'd like to keep you here overnight for observation, but you made your dislike of hospitals abundantly clear when the ambulance brought you in." I saw him struggling not to smile at the memory. "So, since your scan didn't show any fractures or internal bleeding, I'm not going to force the issue." He gave up and grinned.

  I hated the thought of staying in the hospital more than I hated the Jersey Shore reality show I'd had the displeasure of stumbling upon late one night. I hadn't watched television for a month after coming across that little piece of WTF.

  "Thank you. I really would rather nurse my wounds in the comfort of my own home."

  He nodded his blond head. "That's what I thought you'd say."

  "A cup of hot chocolate and a snuggle with my cat, and I'll be as good as new."

  "A snuggle, huh?" Dr. Hope smiled up at me, and my skin tingled. Not only was the good doctor handsome, he was charming.

  The curtain separating us from the rest of the emergency room was ripped back. The metal curtain hooks screeched their protest against the rail, and I had to fight the urge to grit my teeth and cover my ears.

  "What in the hell happened?"

  I jumped as Detective Black barged past the curtain.

  The doc stood up between us and raised his palms in an attempt to stop the detective's advance. "I'm sorry, but you can't be in here."

  "The hell I can't." Black held up his badge, and the doctor dropped his hands to his sides.

  "I need to ask Ms. Jackson some questions, starting with what in the hell she was doing alone on that lone stretch of highway so late at night."

  I scowled. Who in the heck did he think he was? Barging into the hospital, interrupting the only flirting session with a sexy man (not counting Silas. That situation was a bit one-sided.) I'd had in what felt like ages, and grilling me like I was a common criminal in front of said sexy man? The last time I checked, I was the victim in all of this.

  "She needs to rest, and I don't care who you are. You're not just going to barge in here and yell at my patient." Dr. Hope stood his ground. "She's been through a lot tonight—"<
br />
  "I was doing my job." I cut the doctor off. "And the last time I checked, it was perfectly acceptable for a woman to drive alone at night. This isn't the early nineteen fifties, in case you haven't noticed, and I don't need a babysitter."

  "Yes, I'm fully aware that you're grown and what year it happens to be." Detective Black glared at me around the doctor. "That's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about the fact that you didn't bother to tell anyone where you were going."

  "I'm sorry, but I don't have to report in to anyone, especially you." I pointed at him with my uninjured hand. "And for your information, Detective, Mandy knew exactly where I was going."

  He growled. Actually growled. Like a caveman.

  It was hot and irritating and confusing all at the same time.

  "But you still chose to go alone?"

  "Seriously, Detective—"

  "Tyler." He interrupted me.

  "What?" I frowned at his interruption.

  "My name is Tyler." He ran a hand through his hair with frustration. "Call me crazy, but I have a feeling that I'll be dealing with you and your irresponsible antics a lot more in the future, so we might as well get on a first-name basis with each other."

  I shook off the snide remark and continued my rant. I was on a roll, and there was no stopping me once I got started. I was almost killed, had a serious headache, my car was totaled, and I was late to feed Mickey which meant that he was probably taking a poo in my favorite shoes as we spoke.

  "Tyler." I practically groaned. "I'm a grown woman. I think I can take care of myself."

  "Like you did tonight?" he snapped. "I told you to be careful, to watch your back, but did you listen? Nooo." He tossed his hands into the air. "You just went off and did as you saw fit. Do you ever stop to think about your own safety?"

  The doctor stood looking back and forth between us like he was watching a ping-pong ball.