Crazy in Paradise

by Brown, Deborah

  “Anthony Zach Lazarro, Ma’am,” he smiled.

  Good God he’s handsome, and big, bad, tough guy was written all over him. Just the kind of man you’re not supposed to be attracted to.

  “I said ‘hello’,” said a voice in my ear.

  I swiveled the phone back to my mouth. “Is this Doc Rivers?”

  “Yes and I already told you that. Who’s this?”

  Doc Rivers sounded crotchety and as though he were two hundred years old. “My name is Madison Westin. I’m with Anthony Lazarro and he’s here on my patio bleeding.”

  “What happened to him?” Doc Rivers asked.

  “He wants to know what happened,” I asked Zach…or Anthony…or whatever his name was.

  “Gunshot wound.” It was clear, by the way he said it, that it wasn’t the first time he’d been shot.

  I sat down hard in the chair behind me. “Gunshot wound,” I repeated. I knew I should have called 911.

  “Stupid boy,” he growled. “Where’re you located, sister?”

  “3 Cove Road. Do you need directions?” I noticed Zach grinning at me.

  “That’s Liz Hart’s house. Why didn’t you just say so?” He hung up.

  I stared at the phone and shook my head. “I don’t think he liked me asking if he needed directions.”

  “Doc Rivers has lived in The Cove his entire life. All the old timers still go to him even though he says he’s retired.”

  “He called her ‘Liz’,” I said. “I never heard anyone call my aunt ‘Liz’ before.”

  He winked. “I think they were very friendly. He’s going to like you. He doesn’t show how he feels at first, but he warms up.”

  “Gunshot wound? Is this the reason you didn’t want to go the hospital because you knew it would be reported to the police?”

  “I came here because I knew Elizabeth would help me. Where is she anyway?”

  “She died on Sunday. I just came from her funeral,” I said matter-of-factly, not in the mood for sympathy.

  Zach’s face fell. “What the heck happened? I just saw her two weeks ago and she was fine.”

  “Heart attack. She passed away in her sleep.”

  “I’m a private investigator. I’ve been out of town working on a case and haven’t stayed in touch with anyone.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Elizabeth and I were good friends. I’ll miss her.”

  “Stay here while I get the first aid kit and some towels to stop the bleeding.” Let’s hope this wasn’t going to be one of those choices that would come back to haunt me, I thought as I walked into the house.

  * * *

  “Sit up a little,” I instructed when I returned and then sat with half of my butt on the edge of the chaise. “Should I cut your shirt off or do you think you can pull it over your head?”

  Zach groaned as he sat up. “Go ahead and cut it off.”

  I cut his shirt straight up the front, around the sleeve, and pulled it off. I pressed a towel against his shoulder to stop the bleeding. You could tell he worked out, broad shoulders and six-pack abs.

  He was grinding his teeth, sweat running down his forehead.

  “How about some whiskey?”

  “Doc will torture me with something when he gets here,” he said, with clenched jaw.

  Just then, the side gate opened and through it walked a tall man with a slender build and an amazing head of white hair. He was carrying a doctor’s bag and looked every inch the Southern gentleman.

  I crossed the patio to introduce myself. “Hi, I’m Madison. Anthony is over here.” So, he and Elizabeth had something going on, she was certainly a woman with secrets.

  “What in the hell have you gotten yourself into this time, boy?” Doc asked.

  “Thanks for coming, Doc,” Zach mumbled.

  “Don’t thank me. If it wasn’t for your mother, your arm could fall off for all I care.” Doc Rivers pulled a patio chair over and sat down, then reached into his bag and pulled out a hypodermic needle.

  “I don’t need the shot,” Zach said. “Take the bullet out, clean the wound, and I’ll leave.”

  “Who’s the Doctor here?” Doc asked as he rubbed an alcohol pad on Zach’s beautiful, buff upper arm. “You aren’t telling me how to do my job, are you?” He stuck the needle in Zach’s arm.

  Zach yelped in pain. “That fucking hurt!”

  “Good.” Doc laughed at him.

  Zach fell back against the lounger, looking worn out. I realized that I was sitting on the chaise with him, on the side opposite from where Doc Rivers was taking care of things. I didn’t remember doing that, but there I was, sitting with half my butt on the seat again, holding Zach’s hand tightly.

  Doc punched his arm.

  “Oww!” Zach yelled at Doc Rivers.

  Doc looked over at me. “He’s fine. I gave him a painkiller. Soon he won’t feel a thing.” The doctor showed such impressive skills in removing the bullet and bandaging his arm so quickly that I wondered if he made these kinds of house calls regularly.

  “I’ll be right back,” Doc said, walking inside to clean up.

  “Are you okay?” I asked Zach.

  “You can let go,” he smiled. “I’m not going to die on your patio.” He shook his hand and wiggled his fingers. “Amazing grip.”

  What a great smile, all those beautiful white teeth. I reached out, and brushed his black hair out of his eyes, without even knowing I was going to.

  “He needs two to three days rest. Keep the bandages clean and dry,” Doc said as he walked back onto the patio. “I’m prescribing some antibiotics,” he instructed me. “And I’ll give you the prescription for a painkiller, although he’ll resist taking them. Tough guy syndrome. His shoulder will be damn sore, but he’ll survive.”

  Doc reached into his bag and pulled out another hypodermic needle. “You’ll never get him to take any medication. He’s too hard-headed.”

  “No,” Zach whispered. “I don’t want the shot.”

  “Too bad,” Doc said, giving him a shot in the arm. “At least you’ll get one dose of antibiotics and you should sleep through the night relatively pain free. This one’s mostly for the missy here. You’ll be easier to manage on drugs.”

  “Listen up Anthony,” the old doctor continued. “Promise me you’ll stay here for a couple of days to recuperate or I’ll call your mother and she can nurse you.”

  “Elizabeth isn’t here.” Zach pointed out.

  “I just came from her funeral. Never saw such a spectacle,” he laughed. “I told that Dickie guy I’d speak. There were a few others who knew Liz, who would have gotten up and said a few words.” Doc shook his head. “Instead, he chooses a couple of drunks.”

  “Are you staying or do I call your mother?” Doc questioned Zach.

  Zach turned to me. “Can I stay?”

  I nodded, trying hard not to stare at his bare chest and broad shoulders. Call me crazy, but I was looking forward to having him as a houseguest, a diversion from the sadness.

  “You did a good job at the funeral getting rid of everyone,” Doc Rivers said to me, giving me the once over. “Elizabeth was proud of you. She left you a lot. Try not to screw anything up.” Doc hugged me. “Liz and I were the best of friends. Call me if you need anything. I better not have to come back here.” He glared at Zach, then left through the same gate he entered.

  Now what? I asked myself. “Zach?” I sat down again next to him on the chaise. He opened his eyes, hooked his one arm around my neck, wound his fingers in my hair, and pulled me into a kiss. Lightning shot through my body. “Zach, stop,” I murmured, though stopping was the last thing I wanted. I was thinking about what it would be like to have sex with him right here on the chaise.

  “No. I’ll recover faster.”

  “You can’t sleep out here on the patio,” I said between kisses. A small moan escaped my lips, embarrassing me. I pushed away slightly. “The guest room bed will be much more comfortable.”

  “Can I sleep with you?”
/>   “No, and behave yourself, or I’ll call your mother.”

  “Good threat,” he laughed. “I’m a grown man and she still scares me sometimes. This is one of those situations she definitely wouldn’t like.”

  “Sit up. We’re going to get you upstairs while you’re high on drugs. Lean against me, and I’ll help you up the stairs.”

  He got up slowly off the chaise. I put my arm around his waist and guided him into the house and upstairs. “The first door on the right,” I pointed.

  “Where’s your bedroom?”

  “I’ll be across the hall.”

  I helped him into the bedroom and, while I pulled the comforter off and the sheets down, I realized Zach was still fully dressed.

  He saw me looking at him and seemed to read my thoughts. “Take my clothes off.”

  “Are you out of your mind?”

  “You might’ve said yes,” he said.

  “Whatever.” I knelt down and removed his black boots, and pulled off his socks. “You’re on your own with the jeans. You can sleep in them for all I care.” I peeled off the pieces of what was left of his shirt. “When I go out tomorrow I’ll get you another shirt.”

  “That door goes into the bathroom,” I pointed. “If you need anything, yell.”

  “Damn doctor. I didn’t want the sedative, and now I can’t keep my eyes open. Thanks for letting me stay. I’ll be leaving in the morning.”

  “No, you won’t. You promised Doc Rivers,” I reminded him. “You leave and I’ll tell. Besides it’ll give you plenty of time to tell me how you knew Elizabeth, and why she would’ve helped you.” I gave him a soft shove and he sat back on the bed. “Now take your pants off and get into bed,” I told him. “I’ll be right back.”

  I returned with some bottled water, and a bell for Zach to use to get my attention if he was too tired to yell. His jeans were laying on the floor, and Zach was lying across the bed, naked but for black boxer briefs. Nice butt, long legs, muscled and tanned. I stood staring at him, smiling.

  Chapter 4

  I walked into the bedroom with a breakfast tray for Zach just as he came out of the bathroom in his black boxer briefs. I handed him the orange juice and two pills.

  “I’m not taking those,” he said.

  “They’re antibiotics, and you damn well will. If not, I can arrange for a shot.”

  “I have things I need to get done today,” he grumbled.

  “Breakfast and antibiotics won’t get in the way of your day. Stop stalling.”

  “You’re pushy.”

  “I’ve been called worse.”

  He picked up the glass and downed his juice. He ate the muffin while drinking his coffee.

  “Sit on the bed and I’ll change your bandage. Doc Rivers left a sling here if it would help.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate your help.”

  “Honestly, with my aunt’s death and the funeral, playing nurse for a few days is just the distraction I need.”

  “I owe you one.”

  “One? I want a half dozen.”

  “That’s something I would expect Elizabeth to say,” he said. “Damn this time… kicked my ass more than…,” his voice trailed off and he leaned back against the pillows.

  “What? How many times have you been shot?”

  But he only murmured, “I’ll sleep for a few minutes, and then I’m leaving.”

  “I have a few errands. Anything you want before I take off, or while I’m out?”

  One eye opened mischievously, “How about a kiss?”

  “I won’t be gone long,” I said, ignoring his question. But I left the room with a stupid smile on my face.

  * * *

  I came in the front door with my arms full of groceries to find Zach lying on the couch, barefoot, wearing black jeans and no shirt.

  “How about a turkey sandwich? I stopped at The Bakery Café and picked up lunch. You must be feeling better. You made your way downstairs.”

  Zach glared. “Where are my keys?” he demanded.

  “In my purse.”

  “I want them.”

  “You’re not in any shape to drive. You look like crap.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “Stop fighting yourself. It’s only for a day or two. What do you want to drink with your sandwich?”

  “Any beer?” he asked.

  “Drink this instead.” I tossed him a bottle of water and handed him two pills.

  He stared at the pills and then back at me.

  I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess, more drama about pill taking.”

  He washed them down with water. “Are those the same pills I took this morning?”

  “No, I just picked up this prescription.”

  His eyes went from deep blue to almost black. “You drugged me, didn’t you? No wonder all I want to do is sleep.” His face took on a hard look; he was definitely not a man to be crossed.

  “Go take a nap.”

  “Didn’t you?” he yelled.

  “Didn’t I what? Drug you? Yes.”

  “I trusted you.”

  I dug his keys out of my purse, and threw them at him. “If you want to leave so badly, get up and go.”

  “I can’t drive in my condition.”

  “Doc Rivers left the numbers of two people I can call to come pick you up. Do you have a preference?”

  “Fine,” he said crushing the water bottle, throwing it on the floor.

  “Then here are the ground rules. Stop whining, you stay till the weekend, and you take your medication.”

  “Okay.”

  “No, I want to hear ‘I promise, word of honor, and I won’t whine’.”

  “I promise, word of honor, and I’ll try not to do the other.”

  My cell phone rang from the kitchen. I checked the caller ID and it was Mother. Unless I answered, she’d keep calling back. “Hi Mother, how was your trip?”

  “Say ‘hi’ to mom for me,” Zach whispered loudly.

  I put my fingers to my lips.

  “What are you doing?” Mother asked.

  “Unpacking my suitcases. When I finish, I plan to take a book out by the pool and go for a swim.”

  “Then I’ll let you get back to work. Just wanted to hear your voice.”

  I barely heard her and don’t remember hanging up the phone. It was hard to take my eyes off my half-naked houseguest.

  “Nothing new here?” Zach shook his head. “My mother hates to be lied to, even on the phone.”

  “Okay, smart guy, what should I’ve said? That I came home after the funeral, and a hot guy was lying on a chaise by the pool, bleeding from a gunshot wound? Oh, and wait, the best part is that he’s still here lying half-naked on my couch.” I rolled my eyes. What had I just confessed?

  He smiled. “You think I’m hot?”

  “I bought you a couple of tee shirts,” I said. When I turned to walk back into the kitchen, I could hear him laughing.

  “What is that?” he asked.

  Jazz, my twenty-pound, longhaired black cat had jumped onto the couch, in territorial mode, and was sniffing Zach.

  “Go ahead, pee on him. Meet Jazz. He thinks he’s a dog, and he’s definitely king of the house.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Fifteen. I found him in a parking lot while I was on vacation in Colorado. He was just a kitten. He came home with us, eating McDonald’s all the way,” I said, smiling at the memory. “I’ll move him.”

  “That’s okay. I like having something soft and purring beside me.”

  I laughed and walked upstairs to change into my bathing suit.

  * * *

  With Zach and Jazz asleep on the couch, I took my aunt’s letter and settled into a chaise by the pool. I sat staring at the white envelope for a long time. I was anxious to read what she wrote because I wanted to feel connected to her. But I kept putting it off because I knew once I did, it would make her death seem final.

  Instead, I lay back against the cushions and thought about
Zach. So many intriguing people in Elizabeth’s life, none of whom she’d ever mentioned. I wondered why. And, what was her relationship with Zach? I replayed his kisses over and over in my mind, fantasizing about taking advantage of him while he was drugged. I laughed at the absurdity of anyone taking advantage of him no matter what state he was in.

  “What are you doing out here?” Zach appeared in the doorway.

  “I guess you dozed off. I’ll get you a chair,” I said, starting to get up.

  “This is a double chaise. There’s plenty of room for me,” he pointed out.

  “What are you up to?”

  “Sitting next to you, so we could talk,” he smiled.

  “Talk? What man wants to talk?”

  “I want to know more than a woman’s name before we have sweaty sex.”

  I tried to maintain eye contact, but it was hard. “I’m playing nurse, that’s all.” The mental image of rolling around naked with him made me hot all over.

  His finger traced my cheek. “At least give me a chance to change your mind.”

  I pushed his hand away. “You’ve wanted to leave since you got here. Get your stuff.”

  “No, I’ll stay till the weekend. Doctor’s orders.” He was pleased with himself. “Besides, Elizabeth would never throw me out.”

  Playing the Elizabeth card was a good move on his part but, truthfully, I didn’t want him to leave. My cheeks burned as I pictured him naked. Talk about jumping into the frying pan. I’d made that choice before, and surely I’d learned something. Yes, I learned that hot, nasty sex could be amazing, but there was always a price.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  I changed the subject. “I have good news and bad news. I’ll start with the good.”

  “The good is you can stay. The bad, but not so bad, is I want my IOU’s in writing.”

  “In writing? Sounds like you don’t trust me.” He sounded more than just a little offended. “Elizabeth never asked for hers in writing.”

  “What was your relationship with my aunt?”

  “She hired me to handle a problem for her.”