by Loyd, Sandy
“You can’t believe everything you see.”
Stopping in mid-stride, Jimbo pivoted. “The pictures I saw made it hard to believe anything else.”
“Not if it was set up to look that way.” He smiled at his friend’s obstinate stance.
Jimbo’s narrowed gaze scrutinized his face as if searching for hidden meaning. He shook his head and resumed walking. “Doesn’t matter.”
Jason followed him as far as the net. “You don’t even want to know what I found out?”
“No.”
“You should listen.”
“No. You gonna play or jabber?” Jimbo moved to the corner behind the line and got into position to play, bouncing a tennis ball first off the racquet and then on the court a couple of times. “You ready?”
“You’re one stubborn son of a bitch, you know that?” Jason yelled before retracing his steps to the back of the court. “Go ahead. Serve.”
They played a fast set—one that Jimbo won.
“It’s a good thing I have to leave,” Jason said. “My ego can’t take two sets.”
“You were starting to come alive.”
“Yeah, right.” Jason grunted as he picked up a towel and wiped his face. Both started for the locker room. “I can’t beat you when you’re out for blood. That look says it all.”
“There’s no look.”
“Yeah, there is, and I know why it’s there. Talk to Crystal, if you don’t want to listen to me.”
“Damn, Roberts. You’re not going to let it go, are you?”
Jimbo took the towel from around his neck and wiped the sweat off his face before he grabbed his clothes, along with another towel, and stalked toward the showers.
Jason snatched his stuff and followed. “You’re being a jackass. Worse! A jackass has more brains.”
“Drop it.”
“You should listen to what I have to say. Then if you still feel the same way, I’ll drop it.”
“Shit!” Slamming the side of a fist into the tile while his face contorted in anguish, Jimbo hissed, “I spent two frickin’ months trying to forget her. Nothing you can say will make me want to go there again.”
Despite the pain in his friend’s eyes, Jason persisted, unable to let the subject go without another try. “Let me ask you this. Did you listen to her explanation?”
“All of a sudden you’re defending her. Why?”
He shrugged. “Everyone deserves defending. Everyone has motivations for doing what they do. You should listen to hers.”
Jimbo muttered a strong expletive under his breath while shaking his head and raking a hand through his dark brown hair. “Seems to me your opinion of Crystal was lower than mine, and now you’re her champion. God, Roberts, you’re taking this motivation shit too far.”
He turned his back and stepped into the shower, ignoring Jason while he lathered up.
Jason sighed. Cursing his friend’s stubbornness, he stepped under the water and quickly showered. After drying off, he dressed. Neither said another word.
Finally, Jason grabbed his bag, ready to leave. “I have to pick up my girls. If you ever lose that stubborn streak and decide you’d like to know more details, give me a holler.”
Without saying another word, he turned and stalked out.
• • •
Two nights later, Jason and the girls were just finishing dinner when the doorbell rang. He pushed back from the table and stood. “Whose turn is it for dishes?”
“Mine.” Amelia rolled her eyes.
“Ha, ha.” Chloe stuck out her tongue.
“Twerp. Help me clear the table.”
“No. It’s not my turn.” Chloe got up and dashed out of the room.
“Dad? Why can’t she help me? You made me help her last night.”
“You’re older. So just do it,” he said on his way to the living room, ignoring their usual squabbling. Lately, it seemed they were always at it. “And don’t worry about Chloe.”
Amelia scowled. “Stupid sisters. I hate being the oldest. It sucks.”
Jason smiled, remembering a time when he’d said much the same thing to his mother about his younger brother. His smile broadened when he realized he’d just now repeated almost word for word his mother’s response. Damn! He was turning into his mother.
When he opened the door, his eyebrows rose with surprise. Jim O’Malley stood in front of him.
“Hey. Got a minute?” Jimbo asked.
“Sure. Come on in. I’m glad you showed up. I’ve pulled up the linoleum in the master bath and could use another pair of hands.” He stood aside and waited until Jimbo was inside before asking, “Have you eaten? I’ve got leftovers.”
He shrugged. “I could eat. Sure you don’t mind?”
“I wouldn’t have asked if I did.” Jason led him into the dining room and pointed to a chair. “Sit. I’ll bring you a plate.” He turned and said over his shoulder, “You want a beer?”
Jimbo’s yeah registered as he entered the kitchen. Amelia was busy rinsing dishes and placing them in the dishwasher.
“Chloe could’ve helped. I always have to do more’n her.”
When she offered him a petulant pout, Jason snorted. “Get used to it.” He pulled out a plate and began filling it with food that hadn’t been put away yet. “You’re the oldest, so more is expected of you. That’s life, kiddo.”
“It’s not fair.”
“No, it’s not, but nothing will ever change the fact that you’re two years older. If it makes you feel any better, she’s stuck being the youngest.” Jason moved to the refrigerator and rooted through it, grabbing a beer. “That has its own set of problems.”
“What’s so hard about that? All she does is act annoying and follow my every move.”
“It’s called hero worship, and you know you love it. How about if I let you pick out the movie to watch tonight?”
“Really?” Amelia’s eyes lit up with mischief, and she giggled.
He nodded. “When you’re done, go on up. Uncle Jim’s here. We’ll probably spend an hour or so working on the bathroom. Then I’ll be up for the ending. Okay?”
“Sure, but I’m picking something she hates.”
Ah yes.
He lifted Jimbo’s plate, along with the beer, and headed for the dining room. Amelia was becoming more like him every day, employing the same subtle tricks he’d always used to annoy his younger brother.
Coming up to the table, he placed both the plate and beer in front of Jimbo. Then he sat next to him, grabbed the wine bottle, and poured himself another glass.
After silently observing his friend eat for several minutes, he asked, “So, what’s up?”
Jimbo shrugged and continued eating.
Jason sighed and took another sip, and slumped into the chair to wait. Jimbo would eventually get around to the reason for the impromptu Wednesday-night visit.
His friend must really need to talk, he surmised, when no more than five minutes passed before he said, “I’ve been thinking.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Maybe I am missing some details.” Jimbo gulped a hefty swig of beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “When I ran into Crystal last week at the Ocean View, something about her parting shot and attitude got to me, especially after listening to your jabbering.”
“And?”
Forty-eight hours was a record for his stubborn friend. Jason’s fingers went to the stem of his wineglass. He swirled the dark red liquid inside the bowl, eyeing it.
“I gotta hear Crystal’s explanation.”
“Maybe you should talk to her.”
“She’ll just tell me to go to hell.” Jimbo sighed and rubbed his face. Then he pushed the empty plate away and sat back. “That woman has more piss ’n vinegar than any woman I’ve ever dealt with.”
“Crystal can be a handful,” Jason agreed, using the act of sipping wine to hide his smile.
“Fricking understatement.” Jimbo grunted. “Unfortunately, it’s the same
aspect that attracts me. I never know what to expect from her. It’s goddamned exciting, but it’s also frustrating at times.”
Jason laughed and stood. “Come on. Let’s go tear up the bathroom and work off that frustration. I’ll tell you everything I know.”
Chapter 20
Two weeks later
Jason stood ready to head out the door, thankful it was Friday. It had been three weeks since his sail with Claire, and although he hadn’t spoken to her, she was never far from his thoughts.
His desk phone rang, and he paused from stuffing his laptop inside his briefcase. After answering, he recognized Deputy Snyder’s greeting.
“What’s up?” Cradling the phone between neck and ear, he shoved the device the rest of the way in the case, zipped it up, and set it aside.
“Actually, it’s not you I need to talk to. I’m trying to reach your client.”
Jason stilled. “She’s not my client any longer, remember?”
“Yes, but I was hoping you’d know how to get in touch with her. She’s out of her office, her cell phone’s off, and she’s not answering her home number.”
Jason sat down and swiveled his chair around. “Why do you want to reach my ex-client?” he asked, searching the horizon. “I thought your investigation ended.”
“New developments. Fishermen found a body that washed up along the shoreline. A straight shot in from where she was anchored. Body’s beyond recognition with no identification. Can’t get any fingerprints because the fingers have been nibbled on, so he’s classified as a John Doe. Coroner says preliminary COD indicates he was stabbed to death.”
“You can’t be thinking it’s Carter? He’s alive and kicking, according to my investigator.”
“I know it’s a long stretch, considering the timing. Especially since you called and filled me in on his whereabouts.” The deputy broke off and heaved an audible sigh into the phone. “This guy’s been dead for a few weeks. But it’s my only lead, so I’d thought I might as well follow up on it. I called the Ocean View Resort asking for Carter, but apparently he checked out over a week ago. I’d like to speak with Claire Carter as soon as possible. Ask some questions that are niggling in my mind.”
“Okay. I’ll find her and have her call you.” They said their good-byes and Jason hung up the phone. He kept his gaze on the water and watched an ocean liner go by. All the while, his mind was on Claire and this new development.
It rankled somewhat that he welcomed the deputy’s excuse to break his self-enforced separation. He’d purposefully stayed away, hoping to give her time. He’d been busy with work, with Chloe and Amelia, with his remodeling, so his days were full. Nights were another matter entirely. Too many were spent lying awake wondering about her and wanting her.
Elise would be picking up the girls from the sitter, and he’d be left alone for the next week. Now he had the time to assuage his curiosity. Intending to make a side trip on the way home, he grabbed his briefcase and quickly exited the building.
Traffic was light on the drive to Claire’s house. In no time, he pulled into her driveway and switched off the engine.
Doubt crept in. As he hesitated, not sure if he should climb out of the Mercedes, Claire’s front door opened and she appeared. The sight of her took his breath away with the effect of a punch in the gut as she walked slowly toward the edge of the stoop, shading her eyes with her left hand.
So like Crystal, yet so different. Softer and sweeter; he could almost say prettier.
Barefoot, she wore shorts and an oversized T-shirt, but she didn’t have to be dressed in sequins for him to find her beautiful. And she’d done something different to her hair, something sexier that made him want to run his hands through it all the more.
Sighing, he grabbed the door handle, gave it a shove, and stepped out of the car.
“I thought I heard a car.”
“Hi. You got a minute?”
“You drove all the way out here to ask me that?”
He grinned. “No. I drove all the way out here to see you.” He closed the distance between them, noticing her teasing expression. “You look good.”
“I’ve been eating.”
“Good, that’s good.”
He stopped two feet in front of her. His hand went to the back of his neck and he inhaled deeply. For a moment, he felt tongue-tied, couldn’t think of anything to say. Such a new experience, and one that made him realize how ill prepared he was to deal with this situation.
His biggest worry came from the idea that he might be pushing something onto Claire. Should he stay away? Was he moving too quickly? And what did he want from her?
As if picking up on his uncertainty, Claire grabbed his hand and tugged. “Come inside where it’s cooler. I’ll find something cold to drink.”
All doubts vanished the moment she touched him. He followed, letting her concerned expression warm him. Things would work out. If the timing wasn’t right, he could wait.
Once inside, she strode over to a seating area and let go of his hand. “Make yourself comfortable,” she murmured, pointing to the white sofa. “I have soft drinks and beer in the fridge.”
“A soft drink would be great. Thanks.” Too antsy to sit, Jason trailed after her. “I’ll help.”
“Nothing to help with.”
“In that case, I’ll watch.”
She pulled two colas from the fridge and handed him one. Jason took a long swig and sighed with pleasure.
“Thanks for the drink. I didn’t realize how thirsty I was.”
Locking gazes with him, Claire nodded and sipped at her drink before asking, “Are you going to tell me why you’re here?”
“You know why.” He grinned, unable to take his eyes off of her. From this distance, he could tell she wore minimal makeup, making it easier to spot the delicate flush of color filling her cheeks, caused no doubt by the innuendo in his tone.
“I do?” Resting the drink at her lips, she shifted her attention to a point on the floor. The quick smile she flashed along with the glint of amusement in her eyes belied the question.
“I couldn’t stay away.” He took another swig and averted his gaze. “Actually, there’s another reason I’m invading your space.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Deputy Snyder called on my way out of the office. Wants to speak with you.”
“Really?” Her anxious gaze flew instantly to his face. “Why?”
“Seems he’s got a mystery on his hands.” He hesitated a moment. “A dead body washed up onshore.”
“A body?” A puzzled look flitted over her face. “Carl’s not missing any longer. So why would he want to talk to me?”
“Good question.” Jason grunted. “You should give him a call to find out. Preferably while I’m here to advise you.”
“I hardly need your advice,” she reminded him good-naturedly. “I thought we’d established that fact.” She polished off her soft drink and placed the can on the counter. “Would you like another?”
“No.” He moved to set his empty cola can on the counter. His forward momentum didn’t stop until he stood in front of her and positioned a hand on either side, trapping her.
“What I’d like is a kiss,” he said playfully, planting a kiss on her nose before leaning in and nuzzling her neck. His lips went to her ear and he whispered, “My thirst for liquids is quenched, but I’m still thirsty. I’ve been dying to taste you again.”
He felt her touch on his arms. Her soft laughter rose up and she tilted her head, opening herself and giving him more access in the process.
“You taste so good,” he murmured.
She had such a gorgeous neck and he took advantage, letting his mouth have his fill. He spent a few minutes nibbling on a delectable earlobe and then trailed kisses to her inviting mouth. At the same time, his fingers shoved into her auburn hair, savoring its silky softness.
Tentatively, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer so his very noticeable erection fit into the
perfect V of her body. His hands roamed the length of her. She was soft and warm, so yielding. In seconds he had her T-shirt up, and . . .
Oh God, she wasn’t wearing a bra. Searching fingers found and cupped the fullness of breasts, kneading, squeezing. They wouldn’t stop touching, even when he mentally commanded them to halt their progress because he sensed a need to slow down. Yet, he hadn’t counted on the volcanic heat sizzling between them, heat that erupted into flames of want, need, and desire so quickly, the fire inside him threatened to rage out of control.
Jason had no intention of making love with her. Not yet. It was too soon. Yet his body refused to listen to the warning bells clanging in his brain. Right now he was beyond hearing and gave in to the lust coursing through him.
A buzzer sounded in the distance. Jason ignored the noise and increased his efforts as urgent lips and tongue stroked and caressed, not wanting to lose his momentum. He’d never have his fill of her heady kisses, and the idea of stopping now was unthinkable.
When she stiffened, he felt her resistance strengthen, breaking the spell enough for sanity to seep back in, and he pulled away. Noise infiltrated his thoughts.
Both were breathing heavily as she placed her forehead against his chest and stilled. With his eyes shut tight, he rested his chin on her head. Wrapping her in a bear hug, he fought his urges as the annoying buzzer continued, torn between being thankful for the interruption and wanting to plant a fist through the damned timer.
For a moment, he’d lost it. Lost all reason and restraint. He’d been so close to dropping to the floor and plowing into Claire. No finesse, no romance. Just pure sex. What was worse than knowing how close to the edge he’d teetered was knowing that without the intrusion of the timely buzzer, he’d be inside her.
“I have to get that,” she mumbled softly into his chest. Leaning back, she studied him with eyes full of passion and promise. She cleared her throat and hesitantly tucked stray curls behind an ear. “I’m sorry. They’ll burn if I don’t.”
He inhaled deeply, still struggling with the idea that she wasn’t wearing a bra, fighting to ignore those swollen, well-kissed lips that begged for more.
