Her jaw came unhinged. “That’s when she was jerking you off?”
“That’s when I stopped her!”
Scowling, her voice rolled out in a guttural growl. “Did you cum?”
“What? No!” He pushed off the couch and began pacing the room. “It didn’t even come close to that.”
Leaning back, she folded her arms across her chest and crossed her legs.
He stopped pacing. “Look, I’m the victim here, Evy. If the genders were reversed, this would be a crime.”
“Maybe we should call the police then.”
“I’m not calling the police.”
“Why not? You said it was a crime.”
“Because it’s embarrassing, that’s why!”
She shrugged. “Now you know how women feel.”
Removing his hat, he ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? Can we just go to bed before they come back? I can’t take any more surprises tonight.”
Swinging a foot through the air, she eyed him over to the sound of thunder. “Maybe you should go take a shower first and then we’ll decide where you’ll sleep.”
Chapter Eleven
PROPERTY BROTHERS
The gray clouds were a welcome relief to Evy’s sunburnt skin. It felt weird to be dashing off to a carnival after another woman jerked her husband off in the bathroom the night before. No, not weird. Wrong. That fucking bitch! Trisha just derailed their honeymoon and Evy wanted to strangle her for it. Shutting the fridge, she sighed. Her gut was right. Something was off with those two and, even though she knew it wasn’t his fault, it was hard not to be angry with Dean. Tricky Trisha took advantage of the storm and played him for a fool. Setting two water bottles next to some cans of Diet Cokes sweating on the counter, Evy grumbled under her breath. She couldn’t imagine what kind of person does something like that, and with her husband, Jim, right outside the door!
“They were trying to seduce us,” Evy muttered, stuffing the water and pop into a small cooler. “I bet they’re in a cult.”
Dean came into the kitchen, pulling a navy-blue t-shirt down. “If they come back, we hide and don’t make a noise. They’ll get the message, if they haven’t already.”
“Maybe we should just leave.” She zipped the cooler shut with a yank. “And go home.”
“Evy, we still have four more days left.”
“So do they!”
His eyes drifted to the window overlooking the backyard. “They won’t come back. They’re not that crazy. No way.”
A burst of air fluttered her lips. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Either way, I’m going to be paranoid the whole time we’re here.”
Dean sighed. “At least, they’re just renting that cabin and don’t own it.”
“Oh, if they owned it, we’d have to sell,” Evy confessed, pulling her hair back into a ponytail. “Childhood memories or not, those two are creepy as hell.”
A short laugh escaped him. “That’s the understatement of the year.”
“So…do we want to leave?”
He ran a hand through his wet hair, eyes gravitating to his father’s boat parked down at the dock. “If you want to leave, then yes, we leave.”
Stepping in front of him, she blocked his view. Shampoo floated from her wet hair on a sweet-smelling breeze. “Thank you,” she whispered, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “Let’s see how we feel after the carnival. If we leave tomorrow morning, then we’ll only be leaving three days early.”
A weak smile pulled into his unshaven cheeks. “Deal.”
The day went quick, peppered with Ferris wheels, bumper cars, and fried food on a stick. In the end, it turned out to be the perfect distraction. The smell of cotton candy and kettle corn helped push Trisha and Jim to the far recesses of their minds. Dean didn’t bring them up and neither did Evy. She was too busy having fun. Threatening clouds kept the lines at bay but never unleashed their promise of rain, giving them full run of the place.
“That was so much fun,” Evy sighed, leaning against the headrest and bouncing with the washboards in the road. “I can’t believe it’s over already.”
Dean slowed the Grand Cherokee for a sharp bend, gravel popping beneath the tires. “I can’t believe I lost my phone!”
She laughed, hanging onto the upper handlebar for support. “You wore the wrong shorts. Don’t you have any with zipper pockets?”
He stared vacantly out the front windshield, reliving the Octopus all over again inside his mind. “Did you see how far that thing went flying? That could’ve hurt somebody.”
She patted his knee. “You can borrow my phone.”
Shaking his head, he pulled into the circular driveway and shut off the engine. “There is nothing worse than losing your phone while on vaca…” His eyes snagged on the front door. “Uh-oh.”
“What is that?”
“I’m not sure.” Dean got out and blazed past the swollen carnations and roses, taking the porch steps two at a time. He stared at a folded sheet of yellow paper sticking out of the screen door, heart banging in his ears like a drum. It could just be an advert for a new pizza joint on the south side of the lake, or maybe county plans for some much-needed road improvements. But something told him it wasn’t.
Evy stopped next to him. “What is that?”
“I’m afraid to look.”
Pulling the sheet from the screen door, she unfolded it. Her eyes moved from left to right, scanning the handwritten note like a machine.
Congratulations on the wedding! For the record, I was plumb wrong about you two.
Love really can conquer all.
This is my gift to you.
Best wishes,
Frank
Evy looked up, the color in her face running down her neck. “Frank? Who’s Frank?”
Taking the note back, Dean read it again, the paper fluttering in his hands. “I have no idea.”
“I was plumb wrong about you two?” Evy read aloud. “What does that even mean?”
He turned to her puzzled expression, voice coming out in a pathetic whimper. “The dead plumbers.” A V-shaped fleet of geese went flying overhead, honking and flapping out over the lake.
Evy stepped back, hand drawing to her chest. “What about them?”
“What’d the Gazette say about that van again?”
“That it didn’t belong to any of the plumbing companies around here.”
Dean skimmed the note again, lips silently mouthing along. “This is my gift to you.”
“What gift?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know, and I don’t know a Frank either.”
“There you are!”
A man’s voice spurred Evy’s heart into a stampede. Emerging from a burly wall of trees, Jim stepped out into the gravel driveway, raising a hand high into the air.
“Oh shit,” Dean muttered, slipping the note into a back pocket.
“Unlock the door,” Evy whispered, holding the screen open for him. “Hurry.”
Whirling, he poked at the lock and dropped the keys to the porch. “Shit,” he hissed, bending to retrieve them.
“Say Dean, could I have a word with you for a minute?” Jim called out, getting closer.
Coming back up, the clouds darkened and Dean fumbled to find the right key. He wasn’t used to this lock and time was money. Evy silently urged him to work faster, stomach twisting into ropy knots. Heavy breathing stopped behind them. Slowly turning, they found Jim catching his breath at the bottom of the steps, hands resting on the hips of some plaid shorts.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he panted, hanging his sunglasses from the collar of an aqua blue Polo shirt. “But this will only take a minute.”
“If this is about last night, Evy already knows.”
He stared at Evy for a long moment and then hung his head. Clearing the corners of his mouth, he lifted his heavy gaze to meet their eyes. “I’m sorry about Trisha’s actions last night. They were wrong and very unlike her. In hindsight,
I think we should refrain from drinking before five o’clock.” He threw his hands up. “But we’re on vacation and, like anyone else, she can…take on a different persona. Sometimes, I think she gets tired of being the pastor’s wife. Tired of shaking hands and passing out smiles and I apologize for that. She’s too embarrassed to even leave the cabin.”
Evy’s eyes drifted past him, watching for Trisha to come stumbling out of the trees with a glass of wine clutched to her chest and that shit-eating grin drawn on her face in red lipstick.
“Truth is,” Jim said, exhaling an uneasy breath, “Trisha can wear out an old guy like me.” He ran a hand over his shiny hair. “Every time she watches Property Brothers I know I’m in big trouble.”
Brow folding, Dean singled out the right key. “Well, I appreciate you stopping by, Jim. Everything is all good.”
He brushed that million-dollar smile across his face. “Listen, Trisha and I would love to make it up to you tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“We thought it might be fun to have a few drinks at our place this time and maybe play some more games.” One corner of his lips pulled back a little higher than the other. “Ya know, switch teams up like we did last night.”
Wrinkling her nose, Evy pulled on Dean’s arm. “No thanks, Jim, but enjoy your stay.”
Smiling sheepishly, he massaged his forehead. “I just realized how weird that sounded. I should’ve quit while I was ahead.” He raised a hand to them. “If you change your minds, you know where to find us.”
“We won’t,” Dean firmly told him, balling his hands into fists.
Jim’s smile crumbled a little around the edges. “Take care then,” he replied, crossing the driveway with gravel crunching beneath his boat shoes.
Evy watched him merge with the trees, jaw dragging on the front porch. “Did that really just happen? Did he just invite us to go swinging with them?”
Dean turned to her with a look of disdain. “You have GOT to stop looking so hot! This is all your fault.”
“Me?”
He snapped his fingers. “I’m getting you a burka.”
“You’re the one she milked in the bathroom.”
“Okay,” he breathed, unlocking the door. “First of all, she didn’t milk me in the bathroom. I’m not a cow. And second of all…” Stepping inside, he shut and locked the door behind Evy.
“Yeah?” she said, following him into the kitchen. “What’s the second thing?”
He grabbed the water jug from the fridge and paused. “I forgot.”
Evy turned to the window above the sink and let her horses run. Either everyone’s crazy or she’s a magnet for trouble. After what happened with Megan, and now Trisha and Jim, she’s hesitant to give people the benefit of the doubt. From here on out, she’ll always be looking at people a little closer, trying to see the real them. Her eyes flicked to Dean’s faint image in the glass and narrowed. “Sometime I wonder if I really know anyone anymore.” She blinked at his reflection. “You know what I mean?”
“I guess everyone has their secrets.” He stepped closer. “Play some more games? Who does that? And a pastor, too! What the fuck?”
Setting a hand on his chest, she stared up into his chocolate-colored eyes. “For a moment there, I thought you were actually going to say yes.”
Setting the jug down, he cradled her cheeks in his palms. “Listen to me, I love you way too much to share you with anyone else. Ever. You are mine and mine alone, and that will never change.”
A mischievous glimmer sparkled in her eyes. “I know,” she whispered against his lips, leaning up on her toes and kissing him softly. His sweet saliva mixed with hers and she loved it. From his striking looks to his cotton-dry sense of humor, she loved him to the moon and back. Outside of the Trisha and Jim calamity, this honeymoon was just a taste of the magic waiting for them up ahead. Her tongue danced with his, the years whisking through her mind on a knotted string. The premonitions were so strong, it frightened her because the limits were as seemingly endless as the river of love flowing between them.
Breaking for air, Dean stared into her beautiful green eyes, peering deeply into her soul. “I mean, unless you wanted to try it out and see what happens.”
She bent an eyebrow at him. “I knew you were going to say that. You’re getting predictable.”
His laughter ricocheted off the high ceiling and she screamed when he snapped her against him and kissed her like he meant it. The world dissolved around them one grain at a time, falling to the floor like snow. Drawing apart, they shared a tender moment before going into the family room and gazing out the French doors. Clouds rolled past overhead, dark and swollen, the threat of rain quieting the lake.
“I’m scared to go out there,” Evy whispered.
“They won’t come back, not after that.” Dean took the yellow note out and read it again. Looking up, he let his eyes stray from focus. “This is some super creepy shit.”
“Should we call the police? I mean, I’m sure they’re looking for any tip they can get about that van.” Her eyes dropped to the paper in his hand. “This could be a clue.”
Folding the note up and returning it to his pocket, he took her hand in his and stared out over the steely water without speaking. A dog started barking at something off in the distance. A hawk screeched out from above. In the calm before the impending storm, the tall trees stood perfectly still, hunched from years of heavy winds. His eyes hitched on the axe leaning against the hot tub where he absentmindedly left it.
Dean blew out a breath, lowering his chest. “Something tells me to leave it alone,” he finally decided, watching a lonely fishing boat motor past the dock. “The real question is: should we stay or should we go?”
The boat disappeared around a peninsula and Evy turned to face him. “This cabin is ours and I say we enjoy it for as long as possible. Screw those people.” Her palm explored his rounded pecs, hooking on his belt. “Besides, I think we can find a way to keep ourselves busy for the next three days without even stepping foot outside.”
Grinning, Dean pulled her into his arms and saw the future play out against her eyes. Their future. One that would last forever and the anticipation was killing him. “I think you’re right, Mrs. Jacobs,” he said, kissing her like it was the first time all over again.
Chapter Twelve
FIRST KILL
Setting his carry-on down inside the front door, Frank went out back and found Victoria stretched out on a red chaise by the pool. She was a sight for sore eyes. Her long, blond hair blew softly in the warm Maui breeze. A teal one-piece set off her sun-kissed skin, stirring his insides. He was glad to be home. Glad to be retired. This was his life now and the past would stay right where it belonged.
In the past.
“Why Franklin Ryder!” Victoria set down a copy of Better Homes And Gardens and sprang from the chair. “Are my eyes deceiving me? Or are you an hour and a half early?”
“I think that was the first time since 9/11 I’ve landed early.”
Slapping bare feet across the patio, she planted a wet kiss with the hint of strawberry lemonade on his lips. “Looks like things are finally going your way.”
“When it rains it pours.”
She pulled back and removed her sunglasses. “You look tired.”
“I am,” he replied, wrapping an arm around her and escorting her back to the chaise lounge overlooking their small pool, the massive blue sea stretching beyond. “You, however, look as beautiful as always.”
She kissed his cheek and sat down. He took the chair beside her and let the salted breeze wash over his face. Waves crashed against the champagne shore in the distance, triumphantly spraying up into the air. Victoria’s silence drew his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked, pushing his black framed glasses up the bridge of his nose.
Slipping her shades on, her sigh slipped down the beachfront. “What happened, Frank? I thought you were coming home two days ago.”
His mind drifted back out
to Clearwater Lake, getting lost on those dusty roads and rolling hills. Evy and Dean weren’t hard to locate but it took longer than expected. Their honeymoon threw a wrench into his plan, one that could’ve cost them their lives. “Unexpected delay,” he simply replied, unbuttoning a Hawaiian shirt a notch. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
She took his hand. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
“I do.”
“Then tell me the truth. Where did you really go?”
“I told you, I went to Milwaukee and had to take an unplanned road trip out to the boondocks.”
She stared at him over the top of her sunglasses. “To where? To do what?”
Mopping a sheen of perspiration from his bald head, he blew out a long breath. “Just some last minute…”
“Business,” she finished for him, releasing his hand and turning quiet. “Sometimes I feel like I married a total stranger.”
“Victoria…”
“I’m all for a little mystery in a man, Frank,” she said, pulling hair from her mouth. “I mean, I think it’s cute you’re not on Instagram or Facebook. If I want to know when your birthday is I actually have to ask you.”
“Tomorrow.”
She tilted her head to one side. “I’m being serious. I’m your wife now.” Nudging her sunglasses higher, she watched him gaze out over the ocean. “Just tell me the truth.”
Filling his lungs, he turned to look her in the eye, steeling his voice against the fear in his heart. “I killed two cutthroats who were hired to terminate a pair of innocent newlyweds on their honeymoon. But that was my last job. My only job now is making you happy.”
She stared at him without speaking, blond hair and palm trees blowing in the wind. The seagulls cried and the waves crashed. Exhaling a defeated breath, she dropped her head and barely smiled. “Okay, Frank, if you’re not going to tell me the truth, can you at least take me to lunch? I’m starving.”
Removing his big black glasses, he folded them up and set them next to her pink drink on the table between them. “Won’t be needing these anymore,” he said, pulling a small case from a shirt pocket.
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