by Celia Roman
“One more thing.” He eased up to me and settled his hands on my waist. “Perfect fit.”
I rested my hands on his shoulders, more for balance than anything. Leastwise, that’s what I told myself. Holding on to his solid strength didn’t have a thing to do with it. “What’s a perfect fit?”
“Me and you, exactly the way I thought we’d be.” His eyes dropped to my mouth, and he leaned down and brushed his cheek along mine. “Tonight after we eat and dance and talk to everybody in God’s creation, I’m gonna bring you home and find out if you taste as good as you look.”
Them butterflies multiplied, filling me from stem to stern. I hitched in a breath and clutched his shoulders. His aftershave tickled my nose, sharp and masculine, the headiest thing I ever smelled. His hands tightened on my waist, and I sworn, I could feel ever inch of him where he touched me.
“Think about that while you’re dancing with other men tonight, Sunny. Think about how I’m gonna kiss you.”
His breath feathered across my ear, leaving delicious shivers of heat in its wake, and I bit back a moan. Ten to one, I wouldn’t think on nothing else the whole night long.
Rhapsody in Rabun was an annual bash put on by the muckity mucks as a way to salvage their consciences for having more than other folk, about like ever other charity, I figured. The proceeds from this year’s event was earmarked for the local women’s shelter. It was a good enough cause, though I’da rather done anything else to support it ‘sides mingle with folks I didn’t know and, truth be told, didn’t wanna know.
Riley placed his hand low on my back and left it there as he guided me through the crowd, warming me through my dress. For some odd reason, having his hand there made me feel like a real lady, safe, protected, beautiful.
Jazz and BobbiJean was the first people we passed what weren’t strangers. He had on a baby blue tux with a matching ruffled shirt, and mighta looked like anybody else there ‘cept for the musical notes painted up one side of his pants and down the other. She was wearing a yellow chiffon dress we found at the mall and had such a tight grip on Jazz’s hand, her knuckles was white.
At least I weren’t the only uncomfortable body there.
I pressed my cheek to hers and worked up a good smile for her while our dates shook hands and made man noises. “If you was any prettier, you’d outshine the sun.”
She beamed a smile at me. “Thanks, Sunny. I can’t believe you’re really here.”
“Neither can I,” I muttered.
Riley rubbed small circles along my lower back. “We need to mingle. Maybe we can meet up with y’all later.”
Jazz nodded. “Sure thing, man. I got some hooch out in the truck.”
“Yeah?” Riley glanced down at me. “You bring your driver’s license?”
“You really gonna sneak outside and sip ‘shine with Jazz?” I asked.
Jazz winked at me. “Millard Willoughby’s finest.”
“The good stuff,” Riley said. “They don’t allow it in here.”
I clucked my tongue. “And you call yourself a lawman.”
“Only when I’m at work. C’mon. Belinda’s waving at us.”
I bit back a retort. She was the whole reason I was there, her and her blasted dock. I promised BobbiJean I’d talk to her later, then Riley led me through the crowd toward where his ex was holding court next to her husband and a handful of people I never seen before.
Belinda Arrowood, née Heaton, had the kind of figure women in the ‘50s envied and she showcased it about the same way. Last time I seen her, her hair was near about red as a fire truck. Tonight, it was Marilyn Monroe blonde and arranged in careful curls around her dimpled face. She’d squeezed herself into a white, satin cocktail dress and paired it with a truly horrendous, chunky turquoise and gold necklace. Danged if she hadn’t painted a beauty mark on her face, too.
Way I figured it, Marilyn was the real thing. Belinda was just a cheap knockoff.
My lips twitched, spite of my intentions. I was s’posed to behave. Reckoned that included thinking kindly on her for the next coupla hours.
We drew near just as Tom slipped away, likely looking for the nearest liquor. I tutted under my breath. Poor Tom. If I was married to that ol’ she cat, I’d be an alcoholic, too.
Belinda held out her hand, a queen expecting her due. “There you are, Riley. I was beginning to think you’d skipped out on us.”
Riley touched his fingers lightly to hers, then stuck his hand in his pants pocket. “Nice crowd tonight.”
She smiled, flashing her dimples. “We aim to please. Do you know everyone?”
Riley nodded. “Sunny, this is Faith Renault and her friend, Christian Mears.”
Faith was a thin woman with a sharp, prominent nose in an ageless face. Her hair was pulled into a severe chignon and her plum colored dress was elegant and a mite too conservative. Christian had to be younger’n her by a decade, maybe a decade and a half given the sour pucker of her lips. He was tall and broad and pretty boy handsome, and his stomach was flat enough under his tailored suit to suggest he was a devotee of the physical.
I lifted a hand from the knot I’d tangled mine into, aiming for friendly, and was pretty sure I missed by a mile.
Riley nodded at two gentlemen standing on the other side of Christian. “And this is Gregory Hightower and his companion, David Eckstrom.”
I weren’t so dumb I didn’t know what companion meant, and it was a right shame both of ‘em leaned that way. Gregory was maybe forty and nearly as tall as Riley, though he was leaner with his muscle. He was handsome, too, with even features and a square chin and the prettiest mocha skin I ever seen. David was shorter, maybe five ten, and whipcord thin. He flashed a roguish grin my way, and danged if heat didn’t creep up my cheeks.
Men always done that to me, even if they was gay.
“Y’all, this is Sunny Walkingstick, a local investigator,” Riley said.
“Little Sunny is good at sorting things out.” Belinda’s big, blue eyes flashed. She tilted her glass toward me. “Isn’t that right, Sunny?”
“I’m good at hunting down what needs to be dealt with,” I said evenly. I reckoned nobody needed to hear how I dealt with things, ‘specially since it usually involved my daddy’s knife and a lotta spilt blood. “I hear y’all got a problem in the cove.”
“Not a problem so much as damage from an unknown source,” Faith said, her tone stiff as her ramrod straight posture. “What are your qualifications, Ms. Walkingstick?”
I glanced sideways at Riley. “I got references, you need ‘em.”
“That would be prudent.” Faith opened the clasp of her matching clutch and pulled out a business card. “I’m returning to Atlanta tonight. Please feel free to contact me at work or drop by our home on the lake. Christian will be there for a few days more.”
I took the card, weighing it in my hand, and run a thumb over the smooth, heavy linen paper. Faith Renault, CFO, Southern Energies LLC. Her phone number and e-mail address was under that. “Thank ye kindly.”
She nodded once, like she’d fully expected nothing less outta me. “Of course. If you’ll excuse us, I promised Christian a dance.”
They moved off together, her arm through his, him towering over her slighter form.
David stepped into her place next to Belinda, facing me. “Speaking of dancing. Do you mind if I steal her away for a dance or two, Riley?”
Riley’s hand pushed me slightly forward. “I need to find my parents and say hello, anyway.”
“Oh, uh.” I swallowed hard and shook my head. “Maybe you should dance with somebody else, Mr. Eckstrom. I ain’t exactly graceful.”
Which weren’t a lie, though it weren’t the whole truth, neither. I hadn’t never danced with nobody before, ‘cept when my daddy used to put on one of his old LPs and whirl me around. ‘Course, I was just a young’un then. Didn’t hardly count none.
David covered my icy hands with his tanned ones. His palms was rougher than I woulda expect
ed and warm. “I’ll be gentle.”
Gregory’s head lowered, not before I caught a quick smile. David turned to him and kissed him smack on the mouth. “You’re next, lover.”
“If you insist,” Gregory said, and I sighed. He had the nicest voice, all low and smooth and sexy.
David slipped one of my hands through his elbow and led me toward the couples dancing in time to the band’s ‘40s-era swing. “I’ve known Riley for years now and not once did he hint about having you stashed away.”
“I weren’t hardly stashed away, Mr. Eckstrom.”
“David, please. You and I are going to be good friends, Sunny.”
I eyed his assured smile. “You reckon?”
“Absolutely.” His smile widened, deepening the grooves around his mouth, and his eyes crinkled at the corners as he swung me out onto the dance floor. “You look like a woman who needs to be fed.”
So much for being friends. I eased away from him, putting a scant six inches between his flat belly and mine. “I eat.”
“What a coincidence? I cook.” His hand tightened on my waist. “As a matter of fact, I’m throwing a dinner party in two weeks. Small, intimate. Fabulous food.”
My upper lip curled into a sneer. “Not them little fancy do-dads with shrimp and liver, is it?”
He threw his head back and laughed, and his hazel eyes sparkled. “Oh, God, you’re adorable. No wonder Riley’s hidden you away.”
“Weren’t no hiding, Mr. Eckstrom. We just ain’t got no call to speak to one another much, is all.”
“You’re not dating him?”
I snorted out a laugh. “Not hardly.”
He eased me closer and lowered his voice. “Then you should definitely call me David.”
His cheek brushed along mine. In my heels, I was nearly as tall as him and a whole lot more awkward. I concentrated on keeping my steps small and not stepping all over his toes. Never mind the embarrassment. His shoes was too nice to ruin with my clumsiness.
“Mr. David, sir, I know you’re gay’n all, but maybe we ortn’t dance so close.”
He pulled back and met my gaze evenly. “Does my sexuality bother you?”
My eyelids fluttered closed and my cheeks went hot as an open flame. Lordy, I done stuck my foot right into it. “No, sir. It’s just, Mr. Hightower seems like a nice man. He probably don’t appreciate a woman horning in on his partner.”
“Ah. No worries, darling. We have an open relationship.”
“But you’re gay, right?”
“I like men,” he murmured.
I heaved out a relieved breath and quit trying to put a decent distance between the two of us. “I reckon it’s ok then.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Do you give Riley such a hard time?”
“Naw. I reserve a special kinda hard for him.”
“I bet you do.”
He whirled me around again in a quick circle, and my heart jumped into my throat. I laughed and clutched his shoulder and nearly tripped over my own two feet. “Not so fast. I ain’t used to wearing heels.”
“What do you normally wear?”
“Boots. You usually wear the spit and polish?”
“I prefer comfort. Bare feet, worn jeans.”
“A man after my own heart.”
“Didn’t I say we’d be friends?” he said mildly. “You’re an investigator?”
“Of a sort,” I hedged. “I look into stuff the police ain’t no good for.”
“Like who vandalized our dock. The police were less than useless.”
“They can’t solve ever thing, Mr. David. You wasn’t up here when it happened, was you?”
“I was in Atlanta at our apartment. Gregory was out of town at a conference. Tax law.” He shuddered. “Deadly dull, if you ask me.”
I hid a grin in his shoulder. “How long was you gone before you noticed it?”
“Hmm. Two weeks, maybe? I’d have to look at my calendar to be sure.”
“You keep stuff like that in a calendar?”
“You don’t?” He turned his face into my throat and sorta hummed. “I just had a fabulous idea. Why don’t you come over this weekend and I’ll show you my calendar.”
I snickered. He might as well have said he wanted to show me his artwork. “If you liked women, I’d think you was coming on to me.”
“Who says I wasn’t?” The smile in his voice was sweet as sugar. “We can take the motorcycle out, tour the lake, eat on the veranda overlooking the water and all the snotty, second homes.”
“I seen enough of ‘em, thanks. Maybe I can swing by and have a look-see at your calendar, though, if that’s ok.”
“It’s a date.” He sighed and his breath feathered over my skin. “Speaking of, yours for the evening looks like he wants to throttle one of us.”
“Probably me. I reckon he wants a dance.” Riley’s earlier words flitted through my mind and I shivered. Reckoned he wanted more’n a dance. I was tempted, sure I was, but I weren’t stupid neither. “I appreciate you being kind’n all. That was my first ever growed up dance.”
He stepped back, head tilted to the side, and eyed me from beneath thick, curly eyelashes. “Was it really?”
I flicked a fingertip in a crisscross over my heart. “Wouldn’t lie about it.”
He dropped my hand and cupped my face in his warm, elegant hands. “I’ll savor being your first, darling girl. And for another first.”
He dipped his head and kissed me lightly on the mouth, a simple touch, over before I could think on it. I touched my fingers to my lips and gaped at him. “What’d you do that for?”
“I was betting you’d never been kissed by a non-heterosexual man.” He tugged me off the dance floor, safely outta the way of couples attempting a swirly dance I didn’t recognize. “Two firsts in one night, and mine to claim.”
I’d had more’n them two firsts that night, though I weren’t rightly gonna tell him that. “You’re an odd duck, Mr. David.”
“I have a feeling I’m in good company, Sunny.”
Riley pushed his way around a knot of people clustered on the edge of the dance floor and scowled at David. “Gregory’s looking for you.”
David smiled faintly. “Of course. Thank you for the dance, Sunny. Call me this week and we’ll set up that date. We’re in the book.”
I mustered up a smile for him. “Talk to you then.”
Riley slid his hand into mine as David slipped through the crowd. “Have a nice chat?”
“I had fun. He writ down ever thing in his calendar. Said I could look at it, if I was of a mind.”
“Did he, now.” Riley’s mouth thinned into a straight slash across his face. “Mama wanted to say hello.”
“I ain’t seen your mama in a coon’s age.”
“You could drop by anytime.”
Not with his daddy the Sheriff around. I pinned that thought behind my lips and kept my own counsel. Riley’d gone to a lotta trouble to make tonight special for me, and while I weren’t too keen on hanging so tight with him, it wouldn’t kill me to show a little appreciation.
My poor doggies sure got a good workout that night. Riley claimed me about ever other dance, and eventually, I relaxed enough around him to have fun.
I danced with Gregory, and lordy, was he a charmer. Shy and sweet, he was, and so dadgum cute, I was tempted to pinch his cheeks. He filled me in on what he knowed about the damage to the property on Greenwood Cove, which weren’t much more’n what David done told me. I asked Gregory about the cove’s other property owners. Turned out that of the other two, one had died recently, leaving ever thing to his children, and the other was outta town on vacation. I thanked him proper like and, when he asked, promised I’d do my best to make it to his and David’s upcoming dinner party.
Christian asked me to dance, though I figured it was more ‘cause Faith prodded him into it. Bless him, for having a face what looked like it was sculpted by Michelangelo, he was a few turnips shy of a full set of smarts. He didn’t
know a dadgum thing about the problems in the cove, though he was more than willing to talk fashion, weightlifting, and the importance of protein to building muscle.
David horned in on another dance and give me his business card, and after, me and BobbiJean had a high ol’ time swinging each other ‘round the dance floor while our menfolk slipped outside and snuck some hooch.
They come back in half an hour later, Riley so loose I expected him to melt into a heap on the hardwood floor. He threw an arm around my shoulders and tugged me into a tight hug.
“You drunk?” I asked, my voice muffled by his tie.
“Not even close, sweetheart.”
“You sure? ‘Cause you seem a mite too happy.”
“It’s the company.” He run his hands down my back and up again, over and over, real slow and easy like. “You having a good time?”
I smiled and clutched his waist through his suit jacket. “I’m having a blast.”
“You sound surprised.”
“Yeah, maybe. I ain’t used to being around so many strangers, but the dancing sure is a lotta fun.”
“Give me five and we’ll head out again.”
“You need help?”
He snickered. “Worried I’m really drunk?”
“You was drinking Millard Willoughby’s finest. It’s a mite stronger’n Fame’s, way I hear tell.”
“I swear I’m fine. Here.” He dug in his pocket and pulled out his keys. “You can drive us home.”
I cupped my hand over the keys. “Ain’t got nowhere to put ‘em. You get outta hand, though, and me and BobbiJean is gonna strip search you for them keys.”
“It’s a deal.” He smacked a kiss to my forehead. “Be back in a minute.”
“Take your time.”
I watched him walk away, and danged if he didn’t hold to a straight line. Reckon he weren’t drunk, then. I puzzled over it a minute, torn between disappointment and relief. It mighta been fun trying to get his keys away from him, ‘specially since he stuck ‘em back in his pants pocket.
Warm hands cupped my shoulders. I jerked around and run smack dab into Teus. My eyes went round as saucers. I done forgot all about him. “Hey, Mr. Teus.”
