* * *
I loved long showers. Forcing myself to get out, I managed to pull myself together for the family barbeque. My eyes sparkled; one would have to be crazy not to enjoy Creole’s all-consuming kisses. I threw my new bathing suit and black and white sheer wrap skirt that hung mid-calf onto the bed. I would change when I got back from Jake’s. Until then, I pulled on a short black full skirt and a short-sleeve top. A skirt was always my first choice in clothing; I wore pants only when I went somewhere cold, which I tried to avoid.
I snuck out the front door without running into Fab. At some point I’d have to answer to her intense questioning. She’d interrogate me like a cop, although I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t point a gun. She needed to learn patience since our chat would have to wait until later when there was no chance of anyone eavesdropping. By then, I’d think of something to say.
* * *
The driveway to Jake’s had been blocked by sheriff’s cars with blinking lights. I groaned. “Who died now?” I had to circle the block and park on the street.
Officer Johnson jerked a young woman with dirty blonde hair across the driveway by a pair of metal cuffs. I wondered if he was responsible for the dried blood under her nose and scratches on her cheek. Head down, she yelled something incoherent. He looked annoyed at her attempt to twist away, and, opening the back of his car, he shoved her none-too-gently onto the back seat.
Kevin barely had control of a brunette who kicked at him every chance she got. “You bitch,” she screeched at the top of her lungs. Apparently, this was directed at the other woman under arrest. The brunette tried to wrench free from Kevin and managed to fall onto the ground, skinning her knees. She unleashed an F-word-laced tirade on him that would make a sailor blush.
I hustled into the bar, not wanting to catch the attention of the busy sheriffs. Somehow this would all end up being my fault. The television over the bar blasted a golf game that not one person had their eyes on, and music blared from the juke box. I played golf in high school, but my best friend and I sent more chunks of grass flying than balls.
“What the hell happened?” I asked Phil, who handed me a bottle of water.
She had an ear-to-ear smile and swung her long blonde hair. “Once word gets around we had a bar fight, we’ll be packed again. We need to make a ‘this happened here’ sign and auction the seats.” A couple of her middle-aged male groupies who took up residence at the bar during her shifts laughed.
She went on. “Group of girls showed up, celebrating a birthday. After a couple of rounds, it comes out two of them are sleeping with the same guy. I passed by the juke box when the blonde blurted, ‘It’s bad enough I have to share him with his wife.’” Phil could multi-task, washing glasses and talking at the same time.
“The brunette finally realized her boyfriend was the man in question and said, ‘He’s divorced.’ She lost it when the blonde mentioned he added a new hoochie to the group. That’s when she jumped across the table, threw a glass of beer in her face, called her a whore, and dragged her to the floor.” Phil refreshed drinks, holding court at the bar.
I shook my head. “Did you try and stop the fight?”
Phil arched her brows. “Hell no, and get a chunk of hair pulled out like the one girl? I stayed out of it. Why ruin everyone’s fun? They tipped the table over, chick fight on, kicking, screaming, hair pulling, and slapping—no real punches. One of the customers called 911.”
I groaned when Johnson slithered through the front door, headed in my direction. “You’re a trouble magnet. If it’s not The Cottages filled with felons, then it’s your bar. A couple of more incidents here and I’m sure we can get this place shut down.”
“Is there anything specific that you want, because I’m on my way out?” I reminded myself that I promised to try to be nicer, and failed.
“If I think of something, I’ll call you.”
I walked in the direction of the kitchen, turned, and yelled, “Why don’t you go arrest the husband who started all of this?”
Chapter 14
“Help me,” I yelled, kicking open the front door, two grocery bags in my hands. Liam came running from the kitchen. “There’s more food in the SUV.”
Brad reached for the bags and I followed him into the kitchen. My brother was six foot tall, muscled, and tan from hard work on the open water, not a speck of red hair, his brownish hair washed out from the sun. Family lore has it my hair color came from my grandmother, whom I’d never met.
Didier leaned against the counter, giving me an assessing stare which made me blush.
“Where’s Mother?” I asked, turning to hug Julie who had come to help. Mother and I liked her. Based on his past, we started to think the only women Brad could attract were ones with mental health issues.
“On her way over. She’s not happy to leave Spoon home alone,” Brad said, grabbing a beer from the refrigerator.
“You better hope Spoon has a sense of humor,” I said. “He might get really mad.”
“What’s he going to do, kill me?” Brad snickered. He had taken over the kitchen, which suited all the non-cookers.
“That would probably end their sweaty sex,” I said with a straight face.
“Aaah! Out of my kitchen,” he said, and pointed.
Didier cornered me in the living room and slipped his arm around my shoulder. “Your new boyfriend coming today?” he whispered.
“He’s not…Creole was invited.” I blushed and tried to step away, but he held on to my arm.
“You look lovely as always, but you need to change into that new bathing suit of yours.” He smiled.
I knew he picked out Fab’s clothes and she looked hot. She tried to resist his bossy ways until one night they got into a fight over a ‘stupid dress’ as she called it; she got her way and felt terrible the rest of the evening. “I’m not your girlfriend.”
He turned me around. “Go!” He smacked me lightly on the butt.
I wondered as I ran upstairs if his magical powers could be extended to include Mother. Now that would be a match of wills. I lay stretched out daydreaming across my bed, my eyes closed, a stupid smile on my face, when someone knocked on the door. Mother poked her head in. I jumped up and ran to hug her, pulling her onto the bed to sit next to me.
“You know you could’ve given Brian a chance, he’s a nice young man,” Mother said.
“A nice young man is the best you can do? When have I ever been attracted to anyone but a bad ass?” I asked. “What about Spoon? He doesn’t fit that ‘nice’ category.”
“He’s a good man. He pursued me, plying me with whiskey and cigars and the next thing I knew…” She giggled.
“How did your conversation with Creole go?”
“He let me know that he’s interested in my daughter and not happy with my interference. Madison,” she said, cupping my chin, “you and Creole getting together is a bad idea. I told him if you were really interested you would have said yes already.”
I groaned. “What did he say?”
“He wasn’t happy and snapped back saying that you are interested. Then he wrestled a couple of promises from me not to meddle and took me to lunch. Your name wasn’t mentioned once and he kissed me when he left and said, ‘Knock it off.’
“You’re on the rebound,” she continued. “You two get together and after a few rounds of sex and break-up, he won’t want to be part of the family anymore. He’s been a great addition and I want it to stay that way; he’s like having a part of my sister. You two will be a lot happier with other people, and when you break up it won’t impact our family. Tell him no and be done with it.”
Her words shocked me. I no longer had to wonder why she opposed the two of us getting together. She made it sound like I had a track record of casual romances, which I didn’t. She did have a good point, though. If we dated and it didn’t work out, would Creole disappear from our lives? I want a relationship with someone who doesn’t see me as a fixer, and he’s never complained once abou
t my more adventurous activities, except to tell me not to get hurt. Zach had a long list of changes he wanted me to make that eventually would have given our relationship zero chance to work.
“What did Spoon have to say about your match making?” Feeling sad, I turned my back and stared out the window, the sun shining on my face.
“Told me my fix-up skills sucked. That hurt my feelings,” Mother sniffed. “More promises about not doing it again.”
I turned to her and she stared as though trying to read my mind. Knowing her and Spoon, they hadn’t reached the part in their relationship where they’d had a serious disagreement.
“Word of warning, Mother: If Spoon tells you not to do something and you do it anyway, beware. He doesn’t strike me as the type to put up with those girly games; he might walk out on you and you’d miss your cigar-sharing, Jack-drinking partner.”
Mother seemed to mull that over. “When did you get so smart?”
“Look around, how many alpha males do we have in this family, including Didier?”
She blushed. “Didier cornered me, lifted my chin to meet his angry, ice-cold blue eyes, and he said, ‘That wasn’t nice what you did to Madison. It made her cry.’ He glared right through me, and without a word, he walked away. I wanted to yell, ‘It was only dinner,’ but didn’t have the nerve.”
“Mother, Didier keeps a watchful eye on the three of us, in case you haven’t noticed. He cares about us and our happiness. Even Julie blushes and giggles at everything he says. He doesn’t take no for an answer.”
“Brad is the only person not mad at me. He let me bend his sympathetic ear, we talked, and in the end he had me laughing. I like that Brad is around more, taking shorter fishing trips. One more thing about Creole: I’ve noticed the way he looks at you, and you’re not doing anything to discourage him.”
“I’ll talk to him, but Creole has a mind of his own,” I said. He would not be easy to discourage since I didn’t really want to, but I also didn’t feel like putting a wedge between me and Mother, especially if everything went badly and it couldn’t be fixed.
“You need to try harder. You just got out of a relationship; meet new people. I’d like to see you both happy with other people.” Mother brushed back my hair, eyed my sweats. “You need to put something else on and get downstairs.”
It shocked me how adamant Mother was about Creole and me not having a relationship.
Fab stuck her head in the door. “Ready yet?”
“Don’t you knock?” I narrowed my eyes.
“Creole in here?” She looked around and laughed. “It made me happy to see you a disheveled mess this morning. I hope we see that every morning. Didier and I like him. We could actually do a couple’s-something, unlike with the last guy, who disliked both me and Didier.”
“What if it doesn’t work out and he doesn’t want to part of the family anymore?”
“He’s not that big of a jerk. It doesn’t have to be marriage or nothing. You may end up better friends than the two of you are already.”
Chapter 15
I surveyed the living room from the top of the stairs, in a black two-piece tankini, a sheer cover-up sitting low on my hips. Locking eyes with Didier, he gave me a thumbs up. His arm hooked around Fab, who was in a skimpy bikini with a plunging neckline, and a knee-length cover up. Half way down the stairs the doorbell rang.
Julie opened it to find Doc Rivers, a tall man with a slender build and an amazing amount of white hair. He still made occasional rounds at The Cove’s hospital for special patients and could be counted on for emergency house calls. Brad closed in on the two and they talked quietly. My guess was they were going over their ambush plan.
Brad introduced Doc around, saving Mother until last. “So much more appropriate for you than the criminal, don’t you think?”
His comment took her by surprise, but before she could answer, Doc swooped in and pulled her into an overly long hug, running his hand down her back. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you, after all the great things Brad has told me and, of course, I’ve known your daughter for a long time.”
I watched Mother struggle with her impeccable manners, the ones she insisted that Brad and I cultivate. I felt sorry for her and decided to rescue her. Brad reading the look on my face, glared at me to stay put. In that moment, I realized his plans were far more devious than a fix-up; he’d made no secret of the fact he found Spoon to be unsuitable, a “nice guy, but go date someone else’s mother.”
Julie and Brad made the perfect hosts. She quietly pushed everyone outside by the pool to where she’d set up an entire table of party food to fill up on before the main course. She refilled drinks and directed people to help themselves. I hoped that Brad would soon make her my legal sister-in-law. Another perk would be my first nephew, Liam.
“When do I get to go on a job with you and Fab?” Liam asked.
We both stood at the food table. I loved nibbly food and had to work hard to restrain myself not to ruin dinner. Since we were partying at my house, I claimed the leftovers and would feast on them for days.
“Have you run this fun idea by your mother?” Or Brad for that matter? Liam had hinted several times about doing a ride-a-long. I thought about taking him on something totally boring but I knew from hands-on experience that some of our best ideas go horribly wrong and guns show up like a big party crasher.
“She’ll probably say no. Mom flipped over the shooting at the bar.” He looked unhappy.
“I didn’t shoot the guy,” I said. “Let me see if I can arrange a guest visit at Miami P.D.” What could go wrong? After all, it had the criminals locked up.
“You’re the best.”
“I’ll see if you can bring a friend, so you’re not stuck with your pretend aunt all day.”
Liam laughed. “You’re my Auntie Homegirl.”
I moved to the pool, sticking my feet in the water and watched everyone laugh and interact, feeling like a wallflower. Creole slid through the fence from the “secret” path that ran between mine and the neighbor’s house. All my friends used that entrance and then walked into the house through the French doors.
He scanned the patio, looking tired and sporting facial hair. His blue eyes found what he’d been searching for, and he gave me a smirky smile. I stepped out of the pool as he closed the space between us. He pulled me into a hug, murmuring, “Twice in one day.”
I could barely stop myself from pushing into him.
Brad called to Creole from the barbeque, “Come meet Mother’s date. You know everyone else.” He had replaced Elizabeth’s old kettle cooker with a super-duper model. It didn’t bother me that I didn’t even know how to turn it on.
Mother’s eyes snapped with anger, first at Brad and then me.
Doc Rivers flicked his fingers through Mother’s hair and patted her on the head. She stiffened but didn’t move away.
Creole linked his arm through mine. “I hope she’s enjoying herself.” He looked at me. “Oh no you don’t, do not feel sorry for her or she’ll be fixing you up again.”
“Hey, Doc,” Creole said, and extended his hand.
They greeted one another as old friends. That made sense to me sort of, since Zach and Doc had been good friends and Doc knew Zach’s family. Creole and Zach had grown up as childhood friends, only to go their separate ways as adults.
Creole maneuvered my body in front of his, one arm across my chest. He brushed my hair back over my shoulder, nibbling my neck and then biting down. My body jumped, he held me tight and I bit my lip to keep from yelling, “Ouch.”
He ran his finger over my neck. “My teeth marks look good.”
I caught Mother’s frown, not happy over Creole’s attention, or that I hadn’t done one thing to discourage him. All eyes turned to watch, probably wondering if he’d strip off my clothes. This was the first time he’d made his feelings known in such a public way. Fab and Didier whispered and then both openly smirked. Didier and Creole had the friendly guy thing goi
ng on. That ease of male bonding had never been achieved with Zach.
“I left a package in your bedroom. Don’t open it until you’re ready to go to sleep.” He had his other hand now squarely on my butt cheek squeezing in a pleasant way.
I grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the other side of the pool, away from everyone. We ignored the death stare from Fab, effectively blocking any of her eavesdropping attempts.
I came to an abrupt halt and put my hand on his chest. “We can’t get involved.” His blue eyes stared intently. “You’re part of the family now, we can’t mess that up for sex. We break up and then everything gets awkward.”
He sunk his fingers into my cheeks. “I don’t know what goes on in that head of yours, but we are going to happen so get used to it. And we’re not breaking up.”
“What if we have sex and it’s terrible? The last one complained I used him for sex and sometimes I did. Or I break your heart and you divorce the family?”
His mouth curved at the corners. “You’ve been talking to your mother; her promises lasted about five minutes. What other ridiculous questions do you have?”
“Mother made her point patently clear—she doesn’t want us to get together. I’m not interested in having my family mad at me.”
“I find it very insulting that the only thing you might find enjoyable is my…sex, and not for that long.”
Brad yelled out, “Dinner’s ready.”
“You need to think about this,” I said, and started to walk away.
Creole wrapped his hand in mine. “I’ve already made up my mind, just waiting on you.”
I tried to evade his hand but he held on tighter. “I’m supposed to be discouraging fraternization.”
“Too damn bad,” he growled.
Doc sat at one end of the table with Mother seated next to him, and had his hand over hers. He spied her cigar holder, taking a look inside. “These aren’t good for you.” He put them out of her reach on the countertop behind her head. Her mouth snapped open and then shut and bit back what had been on the tip of her tongue. Brad watched from behind with a smirk.
Greed in Paradise (Paradise Series) Page 7
