by Cameron Dane
“Go ahead, honey.” Braden bent a little for her and broke his silence first. “We’re not going anywhere.”
Abby’s bare toes curled into the cushion. “I’m not sure that what I’ve been dreaming is actual fact, but it’s enough that I don’t believe Cormack killed my parents. I think it was someone who knew them very well, or my mother well at least.” She looked up at the ceiling, away from him and Rodrigo, and finished, “I think my mother was having an affair, and I think that man is the one who murdered her.”
Holy motherfucker. Talk about a real motive for murder.
Braden bit down his excitement about this new angle, which had come at the expense of Abby’s image of her parent, and schooled his voice to its most even tone. “How do you think you know this?”
Abby proceeded to share with Braden and Rodrigo the fears she had developed based on hearing her mother say “baby” to her murderer—at least in Abby’s dreams. She then told them about her visit to her mother’s best friend today and how that woman had expressed her long-ago concerns that Elaine Gaines had been involved in an extramarital affair. Abby explained that this Lorene Jones had known her mother very well and that she was inclined to believe Lorene’s suspicions. Particularly when paired with the endearment she’d heard in her nightmare.
“And what about the hand?” Braden asked, taking mental notes along the way. “You mumbled something last night about the hand in your dream not being right. What did that mean?”
“That’s just it; I don’t know.” Abby shoved her fingers through her hair, her voice rising. “I’m picking up new bits and pieces each time I close my eyes, but that doesn’t mean any of them make sense to me.”
Rodrigo pushed to the edge of the couch, putting him closer to Braden and thus Abby. “So this is actually all new information to you?” Rodrigo asked.
“Yes.” Her brow furrowed. “Why?”
“I’d read you never spoke of what happened when you were little,” Rodrigo answered. “I always wondered if that was because you simply couldn’t speak period, or if it wouldn’t have mattered because you didn’t know anything anyway.”
Braden swung around to face Rodrigo, temporarily distracted by another person interrupting his interview process.
“What?” Rodrigo didn’t pull back from Braden’s unblinking stare one inch. “I might not have access to official files, but I do know how to go back and read old newspaper reports. You’re not the only one who is allowed to have an interest in this woman.”
Every bit of Braden’s sexual need pushed against Rodrigo’s passion and sense of competition. It battled with Braden’s common sense and decency for their current situation. “Never claimed I was.”
Abby cleared her throat loudly, drawing Braden and Rodrigo back to her. “This woman is right here,” she said. “But don’t mind me. You two should just go ahead and fuck and get it over with.”
Both men uttered, “Not without you” at the same time.
“Oh…” Abby flashed a very naughty smile. “I’m more than happy to watch.”
“You’re going to do so much more than that, sweet Abby,” Braden informed her, losing himself in her vivacious spirit.
Jesus, Braden wanted this woman’s mouth wrapped around his straining dick, sucking his length for everything she was worth while Rodrigo fucked her deep and hard from behind. Braden ached to see and feel each moan from Abby, coming in time with every slam of Rodrigo’s prick into her slick, tight pussy. Braden wanted to feel the vibrations of her needful moans against his cock as each pump of Rodrigo’s dick into her willing body pushed her faster to release.
Braden’s breathing became shallow, his body tensed right where he sat, and he just stopped himself from reaching down and rubbing his growing cock.
You are as good as working a case. Braden squeezed his hand into a fist against his thigh to keep from moving it to his crotch. Get ahold of yourself.
Braden cleared his throat and determinedly locked himself into detective mode. “Let’s get back to what you were saying about the hand in your dreams.”
“I wasn’t saying anything,” Abby responded. “I don’t know why it’s not right, just that it isn’t.”
“When and where do you see this hand?” Braden asked. “What is it doing?”
Letting her feet slide back to the floor, Abby pushed forward to the edge of her chair. “I’m in the attic, which is where I hid when I realized the killer wanted me too. We accessed it through my parents’ closet. The hand I see is the killer’s as he is opening the closet door, and I’m closing the board over the opening in the ceiling so he won’t see me.”
Rodrigo spit a few Spanish words into the air that Braden recognized as “fuck” and “shit.” His dark brown eyes flashed with pure black glints as he stared at Abby. “He was that fucking close to finding you?”
The edge of Abby’s flowing duster twisted into a tighter and tighter ball under her hand. “Yeah. Very close.”
Braden stilled her fidgeting with a brief touch and pulled her attention back to him. “What color is the hand?”
Abby’s mouth pulled down at the edges. She closed her eyes for a moment, as if accessing pictures from her dream. “White. Or more like tan, I guess.”
“All right. That’s good.” Braden let the miniscule new details of an unsolved crime start to bubble in his mind. “When you say tan in color, would you say it’s more like Rodrigo’s tan coloring?” He took hold of Rodrigo’s wrist and held the man’s darker skinned hand in Abby’s direction. “Or more like my tan coloring?” He lined his own hand next to Rodrigo’s.
Abby’s focus shifted between Rodrigo’s and Braden’s hands, holding on each for a prolonged moment. She then closed her eyes and presumably searched the images that remained from her nightmare. With her eyes still closed, Abby said, “Not as dark as Rodrigo but darker than you right now.” Blinking, Abby studied each man’s hand again. “I don’t feel like this person had Hispanic or Latino coloring but rather more like a white guy with a good tan.” She looked up to Braden. “More like the coloring you have in the summer.”
“Cormack is Caucasian,” Braden mused, “so that doesn’t rule him out.”
Abby almost shot out of her chair. “But the baby endearment does!”
“Not if we just go on that reason alone,” Braden explained, keeping his voice neutral. “It is known that Cormack came to your church on numerous occasions for free meals and sometimes to speak with the priest or a member of the congregation. There are plenty of statements that attest to him speaking with your mother multiple times. As a cop, I could argue your mother and Cormack developed a bond they then took outside the church and that it eventually turned sexual.”
The blue in Abby’s eyes became almost translucent. “But your friend said he didn’t think Cormack did it.”
“He doesn’t. Nor do I. All I’m saying is that I could make the argument for Cormack as the guy and build a scenario where he and your mother could have engaged in an affair.” Braden could have kicked himself as soon as the words left his mouth. This woman had an emotional stake in this case, and Braden had spoken as if he were spitballing ideas with Watson or Kaufman.
“It’s not what I believe actually happened,” Braden explained, backtracking, a bit, anyway. “This is new information, though, so as much as I don’t like Cormack for it, I don’t yet completely rule him out as a candidate for the affair and possibly the murders.”
“That makes sense,” Abby murmured. “I understand.”
Rodrigo braced his elbow on his knee and pointed in Abby’s direction with his entire hand. “You’re talking as if you’re sure your mother had this affair. Do you really feel confident about that?” He glanced Braden’s way as well. “And you do too?”
Abby only nodded, so Braden took up an explanation on her behalf. “Baby is a tough endearment to see any other way, with the possible exception of a mother speaking to her own child. We know it’s not Abby. We know Richard Gaines’s wounds
weren’t self-inflicted—there was never a thought of a murder-suicide—so that leaves another man who had some intimate connection to Elaine.”
Rodrigo turned back to Abby. “You’re sure it was a man who killed them?”
“Yes.” Abby’s nod was sharp and sure. “I can hear his devil voice in my dreams.” She cleared her throat, and when she looked back to Braden, not quite steady, the hairs on his forearms kicked up ramrod straight. “I think we should get started interviewing people at the church right away. We need to get to Father Jim at least. I’d like to go tomorrow.”
“Excuse me. We?” Braden said. Here we go. “No. This is about to become an official investigation again. You cannot be involved.”
Apparently, he’d pushed her red-flag button, and Abby surged to her feet. “I know the people to talk to. I used to go to that church.” She ticked a finger with each reason. “I also remember our nearest neighbor who knew my mom and dad well. She’ll be open to talking with me.” Abby bent back her thumb and waved it in triumph in front of Braden’s face. “I’m the one who had the dream that has given you this new evide—”
That one got Braden off his ass and right up close to her swirl of energy. “Your dream will not appear in any official police-investigation file. Any defense attorney would tear it up on behalf of his client. What will go on record is Lorene Jones’s suspicion that her best friend was having an affair. That is something I can get my captain to say yes to. That is something that allows me some leeway in questioning new people.”
“I can talk to people on my own,” Abby shot back. “And you can talk to people on your own.” At Braden’s second no, Abby’s mouth twisted and she threw her hands in the air. “Who do you think is going to say no to the daughter of murder victims, Braden? Who do you think is going to deny information to the child they turned their backs on? The shame alone is going to get me some choice conversations with people wanting to spill their guts, if for no other reason than to hope it will rid them of the guilt they live with for collectively choosing to turn me over to the state.”
In a seamless motion, Rodrigo grabbed Abby’s arm and jumped into her personal space. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Nothing.” Abby waved her hand aside. “It’s not important. It’s only relevant in that I can put my face right in theirs and make them remember who I am and what they had a hand in letting happen to me. They will talk in an effort to help me in a way they didn’t before.” She took a moment to breathe deeply, visibly, and pull herself to a state of calm. “For once I can use my victimization to my advantage and help catch my parents’ killer.”
Braden grabbed Abby around the neck and planted a hard, fast kiss to her forehead. “Remind me never to wrong you.” He chuckled to cover the sudden gruffness in his voice. “I have a feeling you would be a ruthless competitor.”
As Braden let Abby go, she pushed her hair off her face and into a knot. “I’m tired of being afraid of these dreams.” Her murmur held a hint of steel. “I’m tired of what I don’t know. I need to be proactive, not only to get some justice for my parents, but also to find some control and order for myself.” When she brought her gaze back to Braden, the steel had taken over her stare as well. “I am your connection to that church community, Braden. You need me to let them know it’s okay to talk to you.”
Son of a mother. Braden exhaled a resigned sigh. “First I need to get an okay from my captain to reopen this case.” Braden put two fingers to Abby’s mouth before she could open it. “Which I will do tomorrow.”
With a nod, Abby started moving like an animal about to strike. “Iris can run the store for a few days without my being there full time.” She pointed at Braden, animated now. “I intend to go visit the church whether you get the okay or not.”
Abby’s new sense of purpose beamed a light within Braden. “I think I can work it out.”
She gave another dip in his direction. “Good.”
Rodrigo stepped into Abby’s path, his gaze still sparking black ice. “I’ll clear my afternoon schedule too.”
“There’s no need,” Abby said as Braden muttered, “Oh hell.”
Rodrigo dipped down and got right into Abby’s face. “You are not doing this without me.” After he informed her of that, he swung around and glared at Braden, burning the four feet of space between them. “Even if I just stand to the side and out of the way, I’m not going to let Abby go through these interviews alone any more than I’m letting her fall asleep alone anymore.” He put that fiery stare back on Abby, and everything in him seemed to expand. “You called me, Abby. Now you’re stuck with me.” He became a wall Braden wasn’t sure even he could have moved. “Deal with it.”
Abby pushed herself into Rodrigo’s space just as steadfastly as he did hers. She lifted her chin to meet his black stare. “This has been a trying day, and right now all I can deal with is a shower. Then I want to brush my teeth, get in bed, and see what my dreams tell me tonight. You don’t get to control any of that. Nor me. Got it?”
Their bodies seemed to fight the need to strain and rub closer. Braden got a little hard as Rodrigo let his hand fall to Abby’s waist. The man curled it around Abby’s hip to settle on the sweet curve of her ass. Neither moved a muscle, but each breath between them became more pronounced, a lifting of breasts and chest with every inhalation, their eyes doing battle without bodily movement.
“I don’t intend to fight you on a shower,” Rodrigo told her, his voice low and dipped in the musk of restrained desire. “Never on the things you need. That’s not what this is about.”
Abby nodded sharply. “Good.”
“But I am still going with you tomorrow,” Rodrigo added.
“Fine.” Her lip curled a little, like an angry animal’s. “Can I have my shower now?”
Rodrigo stepped aside, flashing a smile. “Absolutely.”
“Go ahead, honey.” Braden moved back a step too. He saw Abby’s focus shift to her bedroom and felt more than saw the tightening around her mouth.
“Nothing but sleep needs to happen tonight,” Braden added. “Or any night until you’re ready for more. We’ll make sure everything is locked up tight and meet you in bed.” He behaved like a gentleman when everything in him wanted to follow her to that tidy bathroom.
Most of the tension left Abby’s face. “Thank you.” She walked into the hallway but turned around and leaned her head against the opening. Brightness without tears shone in her eyes. “I’m glad you’re both here. Thank you for helping me.” With that declaration, she disappeared down the hall.
After they heard the bathroom door close, Rodrigo swore and punched the wall. “I fucking wish I had some skills that would make me more useful to her right now.”
Braden grabbed Rodrigo’s wrist before he could take another swing. “Hey.” His arm strained as he forced Rodrigo’s back to his side. “You came when she called. Fuck, you admitted that you care about her earlier. You’re here tonight, and you’re going to be at her side tomorrow afternoon. I don’t think she needs or wants more than that.”
Tearing his arm out of Braden’s hold, Rodrigo clasped his hands behind his neck, shaking his head as he looked toward the ceiling. “I can’t help feeling it’s not enough.”
“I know that feeling too,” Braden shared. “Just because I can open this case again doesn’t mean I can find the real killer and put him behind bars for her. All the wanting in the world won’t take me anywhere without some solid leads. Right now”—he laughed humorlessly—“we still have little more than a glorified hunch.”
“Okay, okay.” Rodrigo held up his hands in surrender. “You proved your point. You’re frustrated too.”
“In more ways than one.” Braden made the understatement of the year, unable to take his eyes off darkly sexy Rodrigo. “I’m gonna let that other one go for now. But not forever, Santiago.” Fever licked at Braden’s sac, cock, and asshole—over every goddamn inch of his flesh—and had him striding across the room until less than a
foot of space existed between him and this striking man. “Don’t get too comfortable sharing that big bed with Abby. At least not without thinking about me living inside you just as much as I know we both want inside her.”
Rodrigo reached out and braced himself against the wall. “Shit.” He tore his gaze away, but Braden saw the crimson burning down the side of his face and neck. “Shit.”
Christ, I fucking love when he says that word.
For now, Braden left that all-encompassing epithet of Rodrigo’s with just a smile. “I’m going to go check the windows.” He gave Rodrigo some breathing room and let the man go double-check the doors on his own.
Soon, though.
Braden adjusted his half-hard dick as he moved into the hallway. He heard the water running and couldn’t help imagining Abby soaping up every inch of her tall, lithe body, tweaking her breasts, and letting her fingers linger between her thighs as she washed.
With that thought, Braden winced as a full, painful erection emerged.
Now that he’d made the decision to go for it with Abby and Rodrigo, patience had become his most difficult virtue.
Fucking gotta be soon.
Chapter Eight
Braden walked across the opening that connected the living room to Abby’s bedroom wearing just a towel around his hips. His skin glistened with moisture from his shower, and little rivulets of water trickled down his neck and spine to disappear into the white terry cloth covering his ass.
From Abby’s living room, Rodrigo watched Braden out of the corner of his eye while lacing his boots. He didn’t want to look, didn’t want his mind to go to a place where he put his mouth to Braden’s nape. He didn’t want to think about sipping his way down the hard line of Braden’s back, brushing his lips and tongue over warm, taut male skin, savoring the contact. Rodrigo couldn’t help it, though. Something pushing inside him would not let him turn away.
Then Braden undid the towel and let it slide to the floor. A tight, firm ass with a hint of golden coloring, right there on display, pushed Rodrigo’s thoughts to a place he had never let them go in the past. His imagination took his mouth all the way down Braden’s back and kept it right on going. Rodrigo saw himself licking between those snug buttocks, then burrowing deeper and taking a taste of that hidden ring, something he had never even done with a woman. Undaunted, in his head, Rodrigo kept going until he delved between Braden’s lightly furred legs to suck on the man’s balls in a way he knew from experience was just this close to stepping into heaven. Next step would be to crawl around Braden’s body and open wide for a first taste of that stiff, thick cock and then suppress his gag reflex as much as he could in order to stuff every damn velvety hard inch down his throat…
