“Well, that would explain why, wouldn’t it? And I know all that because I live in the neighborhood, and I work from home right now, doing freelance work for my uncle’s company.”
“Why’d you quit being a cop?” She didn’t know why she asked, but at her question, a look of pain washed over his face.
“I’d rather not talk about that right now. I’ll tell you some time, I promise you. Let’s get back to the attacks on the bakery.”
Attacks on the bakery. Hearing it described like that made her feel faint.
“My biggest concern is that the attacks are escalating in their level of violence.“ His voice took on a professional tone, as if he were briefing a room full of police officers. “It started with someone spray painting the bakery. Then they did it again. Then they slashed the tires on the cars of the people who work there. Then someone very likely deliberately ran your sister down. Then somebody broke into your apartment, and God knows what they would have done to you if I hadn’t been there.”
Poppy stared at him, stricken. “It’s hard to believe my sister wouldn’t have warned me about all of those earlier attacks.”
“Is it?” He searched her face, and she struggled to believe her own words, but she had to admit that when Penelope dragged her into her messes, she often she seemed not just careless, but downright spiteful towards Poppy.
Not openly, ever, but Poppy’s mind flashed back to how she’d had been so excited when she got into college, and then she had to skip an entire semester because Penelope went on a shoplifting binge and she used her tuition money to bail her out and hire a lawyer… those humiliating double dates that Penelope had dragged her on, when she could have asked any of her skinny nightclubbing friends to go instead…
“I’ll talk to her tomorrow night,” she said wearily. “And I’ll ask her. Although honestly, she’s a world-class liar when she’s motivated, so I don’t know if it will do any good. And I’m still not 100 percent convinced that all of this is connected.”
He shook his head. “Well, I am convinced. I’m going to ask the police to patrol the area more frequently, and I’ll talk to my friends in the detective division about it tomorrow. These attacks aren’t very organized or subtle. Whoever is doing this is mentally ill and spiraling out of control, and they will get caught sooner or later, but in the meantime, you need to be very careful.”
Poppy took a deep breath and sat down at the kitchen table. “I’m not taking this lightly, but I’ve got mace on my keychain. I’ve taken self defense classes. And I’ve never liked bullies. Honestly, the fact that some religious nut job wants to destroy the bakery makes me want to stay here even if Penelope did lie to me.”
“That’s admirable, but as long as that crazy is out there, I’m going to be sticking to you like a shadow.” As she spoke up to protest, he held up his hand. “No arguments. And now – I’m hungry, and I’m going to order us some takeout Chinese for us. It’s been a rough night.”
And it only got rougher.
Hours later, after counting several thousand sheep, Poppy lay on the couch, tossing and turning and listening to Rafe’s rhythmic breathing.
She’d forgotten one little problem with having him there.
She had packed her battery operated friend when she’d come to stay at Penelope’s…but with him there, in the tiny apartment, there was no way for her to use it. And having him lying several feet away, close but untouchable, was driving her crazy. She kept replaying their kiss in her head, and imagining more. So much more. Him ripping the clothing from her body, buttons flying everywhere. Taking the body butter from Sweet Sensations and lathering it on her nipples and sucking it off, with swirls of his tongue. Him spreading her legs open with his big, strong hands and…
“Rafe?” she said. “Are you asleep?”
“Nope.”
“Me either,” she groaned. “You know…I was thinking. I’m leaving in eight weeks when Penelope gets well enough to come back to the bakery. So we couldn’t really have anything permanent with each other. So I know that going in, which means I won’t get too attached.” Keep telling yourself that, she thought.
“Oh?” He sounded amused.
“So, it’s not like we really need to get to know each other, because it’s not going to be a real relationship. I guess there’s no reason we couldn’t…you know…I mean…”
Damn the man, was he going to make her beg?
“Nope,” he said firmly.
“No?” she echoed, shocked and hurt.
“I told you I’m going to take this slowly and treat you with respect. I mean it. My daddy raised me right. I’m going to take you out to a very nice dinner, and we will get to know each other. And that means I’m going to get no sleep tonight, and my balls are going to be bluer than the guys in the Blue Man group, pardon my French, but if something’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right.”
After a pause, he added “And in case there was any question in your mind, that something is you. You’re worth doing right.”
Despite the erotic frustration that sizzled inside her and twisted her into knots, she couldn’t help but giggle. “Fine. We’ll see if I’m even in the mood next time the opportunity comes up.”
“You will be,” he assured her. “I’m dead sexy.”
If only he were wrong. She groaned, rolled over, and pulled the pillow over her head.
Lying on the couch cushions on the floor, Rafe listened to her quiet, almost inaudible whimper of frustration, and imagined himself sliding on top of her, flesh against flesh, pressing into her soft warmth. He ached with desire, and thoughts of ripping her clothes off and kissing her luscious red mouth while he thrust inside her made his head fuzzy, but finding out that she was Penelope’s sister made this even more difficult.
It wouldn’t be right to take advantage of her when he was keeping important information from her – information that might make her think twice about wanting to be with him at all.
She was a genuinely decent person, and despite her claim that she just wanted sex, he could tell she wasn’t a one night stand kind of girl – she was the type who got emotionally involved. Which was fine, because his instincts told him that she was the kind of girl he could spend a lifetime getting to know - but there were certain things he needed to wrap up first.
He heard Poppy sigh and move in the sofa-bed, and he clenched his teeth and shifted, struggling to find a comfortable position, his erection rock hard and straining at the fabric of his trousers.
It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Nine
“You both look like hell,” Viola said, as Poppy chugged her second large coffee of the morning.
Poppy was wearing a pale pink sweater with pearl buttons and a flowing pink skirt adorned with prints of scattered flowers. Her outfit was bright and springy, and she was surly and exhausted. She had circles under her eyes and hadn’t bothered to comb her hair after she’d showered that morning.
Rafe had dashed back to his apartment to shower and change. He’d obviously shaved fast, leaving several tiny nicks on his broad, strong jaw and chiseled cheekbones, and he was stifling a yawn as he nursed a double espresso.
Viola glanced over at Rafe suspiciously. Poppy had called her to explain the break-in in detail the night before, and told her that Rafe was there so Viola wouldn’t insist on coming over herself.
Rafe yawned again and sipped his espresso. “You are a little ray of sunshine at all times, aren’t you?”
“So did you guys, like, totally do it? All night long? Is that why you look like death warmed over?”
“Viola! For the love of god, woman, he is standing right there.” Poppy skewered her with a glare, which Viola ignored completely.
“So? If you did it with him, he’d know, so I’m not exactly revealing any secrets, right?” Viola looked from him to her, appraisingly. “You guys didn’t do it. That’s why you didn’t get any sleep.”
She turned to Rafe and jabbed him in the arm with an
accusing finger. “Why didn’t you guys do it? My friend isn’t good enough for you?”
Poppy choked on her coffee and grabbed a napkin to smother her coughing fit. “Viola!” she wheezed, and crumpled up her napkin and threw it at Viola’s head. It stuck in Viola’s hair and Viola swatted it off, still glowering at Rafe.
Rafe took a step back, set his espresso cup down, and held his hands up defensively.
“I am planning on taking your friend out to dinner, taking it slow, and wooing her like a gentleman. And that’s all you need to know, angel of darkness.”
Viola flashed a smirk at Poppy. “Ha. Poppy can’t keep any secrets from me. I will totally know when you guys do it, because Poppy will be grinning from ear to ear.” Then she narrowed her eyes and glared at Rafe. “You’re still on probation as far as I’m concerned. If you hurt my friend, I will hurt you back twice as hard.”
And she turned and flounced off, to greet a young pair of Goth women who came in the door holding hands. A minute later, Poppy heard Viola squeal with delight “You guys are getting married? You MUST look at our wedding cake book!”
Rafe shook his head, bemused. “How is it that you guys are best friends?”
“Oh, I don’t know. We were room-mates in college until she got kicked out for punching a sorority sister who was making fun of me.” Poppy winced at the memory of the lean, tanned blonde leading a table full of girls in making “moo” noises as she walked by them with her tray in the cafeteria.
“I guess we stayed friends because opposite personalities attract.”
“Good, I’m glad you think so. I’d like to introduce you to someone.” He glanced towards the front door, and Poppy was surprised to see a man who was a near lookalike to Rafe walking in to the store. The lookalike wore a sexily rumpled grey silk business suit that was clearly hand-tailored, and had shiny black Italian leather shoes; he was every bit as handsome as Rafe, but when Poppy looked at him, she didn’t feel a thing. Only Rafe sent shivers down her spine and into her nether regions.
“This is my brother, Jeffrey. I’m headed over to the police station this morning to talk to them about what’s going on here at the bakery. While I’m gone today, and when I’m away on my business trip, Jeffrey has volunteered to stay here during the day in case anything else happens.”
Jeffrey managed a pained smile. Clearly he hadn’t volunteered; he’d been drafted.
“Jeffrey, don’t you need to work?” Poppy asked him.
He shrugged. “I own my own business. I’m an investment advisor. I’m fine as long as I can duck into your office and call my clients and check my laptop from time to time. I can even help you with sales in between.” He looked askance at the bakery shelves.
“Rafe, really, this isn’t necessary. It’s broad daylight now, there are people everywhere on the street outside, we’ll be fine,” Poppy protested.
“Not necessary? Someone broke into your apartment last night with the specific intent to harm you. I feel like I should be stationing armed guards in here.”
“Okay, okay! No armed guards. Your brother can stay.”
“So you’re engaged to the bitch?” Viola appeared at Jeffrey’s side, looking him up and down with open disdain.
“Pleased to meet you too. Er, yes, so far today, I’m still engaged to her.”
“I’d offer you my sympathies, but if you’re engaged to someone like that, you don’t deserve it.” Viola picked up a chocolate penis pop and bit down on it savagely, while looking Jeffrey straight in the eye.
He grimaced. “The symbolism is not lost on me. I will stay on the other side of the store.” He shot a look at his brother. “You owe me,” he informed him.
“I chaperoned your fiancée around town to half a dozen stores, and I didn’t push her in front of a bus.”
“Touche. We’re even, then. See you when you get back. Don’t take your time,” Jeffrey said, looking at Viola with trepidation.
Rafe left with a smile and a lazy wave, and a wink at Poppy which made her weak in the knees. Cheeks flushed, she rushed into the office, leaving Viola and Jeffrey alone.
When she emerged later, she was thankful to see that they hadn’t killed or even maimed each other, although they kept to opposite ends of the store, studiously ignoring each other.
Despite his obvious misgivings, Jeffrey was a gentleman, and at lunch he bought them sandwiches from a restaurant down the street, which they ate inside the office at a small foldout table with foldout chairs.
After lunch, Viola tossed her container in the trash, got up, and headed for the front door.
Jeffrey leaped up from his chair, looking alarmed. “Where are you going? I’m supposed to be watching out for you guys. If anything happens to either one of you, Rafe will kick my ass from one end of the store to the other. ”
“That would be fun to watch. Now I’m almost hoping I get mugged.” Viola flashed a feral smile. “I’m going out to my car, which is parked right outside the front door so you don’t need to worry. I forgot my ipod dock; this store needs some mood music.”
“Ahhh, yes, some death metal will definitely get the customers in a buying mood.”
Viola shot him a look of chilling disdain and didn’t bother to answer, letting the door slam behind her as she walked outside. A minute later, she ran back inside the store at top speed, her ipod dock tucked under her arm. Poppy and Jeffrey leaped up in alarm.
“What is it?” Poppy demanded.
“Outside! You need to look! Is that the guy who attacked you?”
Standing outside on the sidewalk, about twenty feet away from the storefront, a stocky man swathed in layers of dirty clothing was wildly waving a sign which read “Repent, fallin women!” His bright blues eyes glowed eerily in his filthy face, which was nearly obscured by weedy strands of stringy brown hair.
When Poppy, Jeffrey and Viola burst out of the store onto the sidewalk, he bared a mouthful of yellow buck teeth at them, dropped his placard, and made the sign of the cross with his index fingers at them, as if they were vampires.
Up and down the street, people strolled by without giving him a second glance. He must be a familiar sight in the neighborhood, Poppy thought.
“Is it him?” Viola asked, skewering him with a venomous look.
Poppy stood back cautiously, looked him up and down. Sighing, she shook her head. “Too short, wrong build. I’m afraid it’s not him,” she said unhappily. She truly wished it was him; she wanted to put a face to anonymous wraith who’d burst into her apartment and shattered her peace of mind.
“Fallin?” Viola mused. “They don’t teach spelling in crazy school?”
The man hissed at her with bared teeth.
“Leave now, before I shove that sign up your ass,” Jeffrey snarled, stepping in front of Viola.
The man bent down and grabbed the sign off the sidewalk, hissed again, and stalked off without a backward glance, shoulders hunched.
“Oooooh, yuppie boy, I didn’t know you had it in you,” Viola grinned, revealing perfect white teeth.
“Viola!” Poppy snapped, indignant. “Say thank you!”
“Thank you,” Viola repeated dutifully, like a chastised child.
“Dang. How many religious psychos are there in this neighborhood, anyway?” Poppy shook her head in astonishment as the sign-waver disappeared around a corner.
“A lot!”
Poppy started. Amelia had walked up behind them. “There’s a couple of them that seem to take turns picketing your store. They add character to the neighborhood. The yuppies love to take pictures of them,” she said cheerfully.
“Rafe seems to think that one of them may have something to do with the vandalism on the store, and maybe even my sister’s car accident. He doesn’t think it was an accident.”
Amelia’s eyes widened in shock. “Really? What about the fires?”
“Fires?” Poppy choked out. “There were fires at the bakery? More than one?”
“Penelope didn’t tell you?
The last one was pretty bad. They weren’t sure if it was faulty wiring or not, but that’s okay, the insurance paid for the place to be rewired and completely redecorated, Penelope said.”
“Uh, no. Penelope forgot to mention that one little detail to me.”
Amelia shrugged. “I’m sure it’s fine now. I saw the building inspectors going in after the renovation, so it’s got to be up to code now.”
Stomach churning, Poppy managed a weak smile and followed Viola and Jeffrey back into the store.
Once they were in there, Viola plugged in her white egg-shaped ipod dock and slid her ipod in. Jeffrey grimaced, bracing himself for an explosion of screeching noise. Instead, the sounds of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons streamed out, flowing through the warm, cinnamon scented air.
Smashwords version Sweet Surrender Page 5
