“Um, guys,” Mere said then giggled. “How about you call back after you’ve worked each other out of your system.”
“That will never happen,” Gabe and I said at the same time.
“All the same, Queen V is waking up and searching out her next meal. I know you’re both enlightened gentlemen and all, but breastfeeding on FaceTime isn’t my idea of a fun time.”
“Fine, but I want to be sure you’re giving Tori the kisses I’ve sent her each day. I’ll wait.”
Mere giggled and placed a lingering kiss on Tori’s forehead. “That kiss is from your uncles, Josh and Gabe. They love you so much.”
“Bye, Mere and Tori. We’ll chat later.”
Mere blew me an air kiss before she disconnected. I leaned into Gabe, and he put his arm around me. “We’ve video chatted with our kids and Mere. Chaz is up to his armpits in edits, so I will only receive short replies from him until he meets his deadline.”
“Are you bored?” Gabe asked me.
“Hell no, Captain Sexy Pants. I’m just one of those persons who likes to keep busy. The rain has prohibited us from doing much outside, so I’m using the quiet time to catch up with the people we love back home. Don’t pretend you haven’t checked in with Adrian to see if everything was running smoothly.”
“Of course,” Gabe admitted. “Adrian has everything under control though.”
“You won.”
“It’s nice to know I’m better than you at something, even if it’s rummy.”
“Gabe, I wasn’t talking about the card game. I meant the little competition between us. You won.”
“Josh,” Gabe said tenderly. “You don’t need to make me feel better about my failed plans. You gave me the most beautiful sunrise ever witnessed by man. There’s no comparison between it and the picnic lunch we had in our suite.”
“The lunch was filled with my favorite foods. I sat across from you on a blanket in this lovely home. Then we played card games which ended with us making love on our balcony with the rain pouring down on our naked skin. Do you think I’ll ever forget the sounds you made when you came or the way it felt to fill your ass in such a primal, natural way? You didn’t let the rain ruin our day; you used it to your advantage. It was perfection.”
“It was truly special,” Gabe admitted. “Juliette assured me I’d have plenty of time to reschedule our date though.”
“It’s not necessary.”
“You say that now because you don’t know what I had planned.”
“True,” I said with a shrug, “but you’ve already won, and I doubt you can outdo the rainy lovemaking.”
“I can give it my best shot.”
Who was I to discourage my husband from wowing me? “If you insist,” I replied in a resigned voice. Gabe smirked because he knew I was already planning to outdo him. It was my nature, so why fight it? “I’m challenging you to some board games next. I think Clue would be a great idea since we will have a murder mystery to solve in a few days.”
“You’ve had plenty of practice on your iPad, and I’ve had real-life experience to give me a leg up.”
“Will you at least show me the costumes?”
“Nope.”
“Will you give me a hint?”
“No.”
“Fine,” I said. Just then, I heard a car pulling up in front of the inn. “Oh, I wonder if our competition is starting to arrive.”
“Could be,” Gabe agreed. “We’re here as part of an extended vacation, so it only seems reasonable others would do the same.”
“And doing a bit of recon while they’re at it.”
“Want to check out our competition, Sunshine?”
“Does your dick wake up happy to see me?” I answered his rhetorical question with one of my own. I’d sent our mothers undercover to salons that opened in neighboring communities. Hell yes, I wanted to see who I was up against.
Gabe and I went onto the balcony. The rain was barely a drizzle by this time, so we could observe the new arrivals without it looking too obvious. “Wow,” Gabe said in awe when he spied the shiny, black vehicle pulling to a stop in front of the inn. “A person doesn’t see a Rolls-Royce every day.”
“And?” I asked. I’d heard of the car company but didn’t understand the significance of Gabe’s implications.
Before Gabe could answer, José jogged down the steps holding a large umbrella with the inn’s logo on it. He opened the passenger door and extended his hand to the woman sitting inside. The lady placed a gloved hand, yes, gloved, in his and graciously swung her legs around and exited the car. I couldn’t see her face because of the large hat she wore.
“It’s Queen Elizabeth,” I said in an exaggerated whisper.
The driver, also wearing a dapper hat, exited the car and jogged around the front to join José and, I assumed, his wife. I couldn’t hear what they said, but the voices and body language spoke of their familiarity with the valet.
“Repeat guests,” Gabe said.
José moved in to place a kiss on the woman’s cheek. “They’re awfully chummy with the staff,” I added. “It won’t stop us from taking Thurston and Lovey Howell down.”
Gabe snorted. “I’m almost more excited about the snarky code names you’ll give our competitors than I am the actual murder mystery we need to solve.”
“What do you think they’ll call us? The Fabulous Two?”
Gabe threw his head back and laughed at my suggestion, pulling the attention of the newly arrived guests and José upward. Thurston gave us a friendly nod while Lovey narrowed her eyes.
“I think you stole her suite,” I whispered to Gabe.
“Don’t care,” he replied. “Lord only knows when we’ll get another vacation, so she can stew about it all she wants. Distract her from solving the crime.” He winked playfully and pulled me back inside our suite.
“Do you think other guests will arrive today too? The actual event doesn’t start until Friday night.”
“I think it’s a great possibility. Do we stay up here and scope out our competition, or do we act less obvious and do it from the common rooms downstairs?”
“Downstairs,” I replied eagerly. I wanted to see these people in action.
The Howells were still checking in after we descended the staircase. I only glanced in their direction, but it was enough to tell me a lot. I might not have recognized their sleek-ass ride, but I recognized Louis Vuitton luggage and handbags when I saw them. I also noticed the bright red sole of her Christian Louboutin stilettos.
“Her pair of shoes probably cost as much as a mortgage payment,” I whispered to Gabe as we headed into the seating area in the great room. “Oh, the gas fireplace is a nice touch on a rainy day,” I said. “I brought my Kindle to read on.”
“I have the latest Clancy paperback.”
We each grabbed a cup of coffee and settled in where we could observe the front desk without being too obvious. I observed Juliette and Geneva greeting the Howells with hugs also.
“I find them interesting,” Gabe said while continuing to look at his paperback book. “I don’t associate people who can afford a car costing a quarter of a million dollars with people who hug the staff at the inn.”
“Not all wealthy people are stuck-up assholes.” I shifted my attention back to the Kindle, but even Chaz’s skill couldn’t keep my attention for long.
“Of course not, Sunshine. There’s a big difference between showing courtesy to the staff at the inn and hugging them like they’re long-lost cousins.”
“True.” He made a valid point. His detective skills were going to come in handy when the real games began.
“I’ve been around some of the world’s wealthiest people in Miami, and I have to say they were a lot more subtle about displaying their wealth.”
“What do you think it means?” I asked.
“New money.”
“Like they’ve won the lottery?” I asked.
“Yes, or a lawsuit of some sort.”
&
nbsp; “Interesting,” I replied. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I saw it was a text from Chaz when I retrieved it.
I’m not so sure about this book, Josh.
I set my Kindle down and quickly typed a response. Why? I fucking love it.
Really? Not too…taboo?
Yes, really. If I’m honest, this is your best writing. Their longing and passion for each other is a palpable thing.
Chaz came back quickly… I don’t know. I’ve never felt this uncertain.
I felt his confusion coming through the message and wished I could give him a reassuring hug. Sometimes you have to push outside your comfort zone. What’s the worst that can happen?
People could think I’m a pervert and stop reading my books.
I scowled down at my phone for a minute while I thought of the right words to say.
“Everything okay?” Gabe asked.
“Yeah, Chaz is just feeling unsure about his new book. Keep an eye on the competition.”
“I’m on it, Sunshine.”
I glanced up from my phone when I felt someone staring at me. Lovey wore an inscrutable expression as she focused her attention on me while Thurston conversed with the lady behind the registration counter. In return, I raised a brow. A slow smile spread across her face, but it looked more like the way Angelina smiled when she played Maleficent than a friendly gesture.
“Making an impression, I see,” Gabe said.
“Did you see that? Lovey is throwing down.” I answered her sly smile with one of my own, signaling I accepted her challenge.
My phone vibrated again with another text message. Hello? Are you still there or did you ditch me for vacation sex? I can’t blame you.
Sorry. The first couple in our murder mystery competition just showed up. I’m calling them Thurston and Lovey.
Super rich?
I narrowed my eyes as I watched them walk toward us. The suave grace I expected from the super rich was missing. Were they wealthy people or playing dress up? Were the car and clothes all a part of their role playing?
So it seems, I answered Chaz. Listen, I won’t tell you how to do your job or tell you to publish a book that makes you feel uncomfortable.
But…
I think you should have a heart-to-heart talk with your fans on your SM sites. Give them enough information to form an opinion without spoiling the book. There’s also the summation thingy on the back of the book. What’s it called?
Chaz sent a laughing emoji. It’s called the blurb. Most of us call it the “fucking blurb.”
Fine, I said. Give it to them straight in the “fucking blurb,” and they can choose to read it or not. It’s not like you’re holding a gun to anyone’s head.
True. Chaz sent a heart emoji followed by, You’ve made me feel so much better. So, you like it?
Like? I freaking love it.
We spend the next twenty minutes or so texting back and forth about the book. Chaz accidentally gave away a spoiler when he asked a question about a part I hadn’t read yet. Instead of getting mad, it made me want to read more which was what I told him before I shoved my phone back in my pocket.
“What’d I miss?” I asked Gabe.
“Thurston tried to discreetly grab Lovey’s ass while they walked up the steps.”
“What did she do?”
“She recoiled and practically pushed him down the stairs.”
“Wow,” I said. “This keeps getting better and better. It seems like an overreaction.”
“I’m interested to see how they act during dinner. I get some people aren’t into public displays of affection, but knocking the guy down the steps seems extreme.”
Juliette made her way over to our table. She wore her usual happy-to-help smile and carried her ever-present clipboard. “How was your picnic lunch? Was it to your satisfaction?”
“It exceeded my expectations,” Gabe told her. “My husband is probably the best cook I’ve ever known, and he was very impressed with the chicken salad on croissants.”
“The chef didn’t skimp on seasoning just because it was a sandwich. I saw he or she added fresh rosemary, and I have mad respect for those kinds of special touches,” I told Juliette. “Also, I liked how the nuts and fruit were finely and uniformly chopped. My highest compliments to the chef because this is a person who knows a properly made sandwich is an art form.”
Juliette threw back her head and laughed. “I’ll be sure to let Pierre know how much you loved the chicken salad. Maybe he should consider adding it to the menu.”
Her remark confirmed how committed Gabe was to provide the perfect picnic lunch for us. “He definitely should. Did he make those barbecue potato chips himself? They were delicious.”
“Everything in the basket was made by Pierre with love including the mayonnaise used in the dressing. Geneva stole him away from a four-star restaurant a few years ago. It was one of the best decisions she’s ever made.”
“Get out of here,” I said excitedly. “In theory, I know only a few ingredients go into mayonnaise, but I’ve never attempted to make my own.” Gabe snorted because he knew it would change as soon as we got home. A speculative gleam was also present.
“What are you up to?” I asked him.
“You’ll find out,” Gabe replied before turning his attention back to Juliette. “Can we have a private chat.”
I went back to reading, but my focus was split between the words, watching for the Howells, and Gabe’s return. I was dying to know what he was planning and knew it was good when he returned looking like the smuggest man on earth.
“Don’t even bother asking,” he told me when I opened my mouth. “Let’s focus on how we’re going to strike up a conversation with Thurston and Lovey.”
We talked over some strategies for a bit but realized it wasn’t necessary when the couple came down to the gathering area and approached us after they got drinks at the bar. I respected their bold move, but I still planned on kicking their ass when I solved the mystery before them.
“HELLO,” THE MAN SAID in a genteel Southern drawl. “My name is George Howard, and this is my wife, Georgia.” I knew Josh would have a blast with how cutesy their names were, but I suspected they were using names as fake as their relationship appeared to be. There was zero familiarity or closeness between them. I knew marriages were more like business arrangements in the wealthiest classes in America, but these people left me feeling cold enough to put on a jacket.
Josh and I rose to our feet and politely shook their hands. I noticed George’s handshake was firm and his fingers were heavily callused, indicating he most likely worked with his hands. I was eager to find out what he said he did for a living. His wife’s handshake was soft and very brief like she was afraid to sully her hands.
“I’m Gabriel, and this is my husband, Josh.”
“Where are you from?” George asked. “I don’t detect an accent.” Southerners were known for speaking slow, but George’s speech cadence seemed contrived.
“We’re from Ohio,” Josh replied.
“Ah, Yankees then.” The good-natured smile George aimed at us to soften the context of his words was as fake as the rest of him.
“Darling,” Georgia purred, but it sounded more like dahling. “The war has been over for a very long time. I think we can let it go.”
“If it helps, Gabe is originally from Florida, and we live in Southern Ohio,” Josh offered then giggled. My husband never giggled. What was he up to? I also noticed his movements and gestures were more exaggerated than usual. I realized he was getting into a role just like these two posers were. I couldn’t see where he was taking this.
“That works for me. Let’s all sit down and get to know one another,” George suggested. “How long are you fellas staying?” Yep, he was feeling us out to see if we were part of the murder mystery weekend.
“Until Sunday,” Josh said then clapped his hands excitedly. “How about you?”
“The same,” Georgia replied coolly. “Is this y
our first stay at Tarlington House?”
“It is our first trip, but it won’t be our last,” I replied.
George leaned forward and lowered his voice. “So, you’ve heard about the silly little murder mystery they host?”
Josh mimicked George’s actions, and it was all I could do not to laugh. “We have heard. It sounds like a lot of fun.”
“Have you attended anything like this before?” Georgia asked while staring into the drink she lazily stirred. I liked how they were casually sizing us up the same way we were doing with them.
“Oh no!” Josh replied dramatically. “This is the first time we attempted anything so wild.”
Georgia looked up from her drink and studied Josh through slightly narrowed eyes. He might’ve been overplaying his hand just a bit. “What do you gentlemen do for a living?”
“Gabe is a professor, and I’m a stay-at-home dad.” Professor? I could see that he wouldn’t want our competitors to know I solved crimes for a living, but someone who was put in charge of educating others? Stay-at-home dad? That was the exact opposite of who he was. Josh was a dedicated father who would rearrange his schedule at a moment’s notice for our babies, but he needed work to feel balanced.
“Interesting,” George said with a raised brow. “What did you do before you had children?”
I held my breath while waiting to see what Josh came up with. My husband was proud of the business he built and didn’t care if people saw him as a cliché. He would remind people that he wasn’t just a hair stylist, he was the motherfucking owner of a very successful salon. He was never embarrassed about his job, so I was eager to see how he would play this one.
“I was a dancer,” Josh replied with a smile. “Well, I still am when I find the time in my busy schedule.”
“Dancer, huh? Ballet?” George asked before taking a sip of his drink.
“Pole,” Josh corrected cheekily.
George started to choke and spat his drink back in his glass, but he overshot, and some of it splashed on his pressed trousers.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Georgia snapped, letting her true self show. “What’s the matter with you?” She shook her head, aimed a brittle smile at us then stood up. “We need to return to our room to freshen up. Please accept our apology for abruptly ending this lovely chat.” I thought she recovered her composure well.
Ride or Dye (Curl Up and Dye Mysteries, #6) Page 8
