by Gina LaManna
He opened his mouth, and then shut it again. I considered explaining everything, but complicated was enough of an understatement. At the moment, the family ties were a train wreck, plus a tornado, plus an earthquake anomaly.
“I’m going to need to speak to everyone here, individually,” the officer said. “We may have a few more questions for you later, but for now I’ll need to talk to your friend and the three eligible bachelors.”
“I’ll leave you to it, then.” I stood back and waved him inside. “I’m going to have another glass of wine at the kitchen table. Let me know if you need anything.”
Chapter 9
Two to five glasses of wine later, I was feeling relaxed enough to ignore most of the weirdness happening around me. That is, until the cops wanted to dredge all that weirdness right back up and talk some more.
“Lacey, can I speak with you for a second?” Officer Pearson stepped into the kitchen, nodding for me to follow him outside. I was slow to stand, so the officer reached over and gently guided me outside by the elbow.
“Why are we outside?” I asked, feeling as if I didn’t have a choice in the matter.
“I want to be real frank with you,” he said, that thick mustache twitching. “I’ve lived in this little town we call Tonka all my life. I like it. I like your grandfather, and I know him well. I’ve even played poker with Carlos on occasion, and he helped my sister’s husband out of a nasty patch awhile back. So I’m asking this in friendly, complete confidence. Why did you call us here tonight?”
“I don’t quite follow your insinuation,” I said. “Can you spell it out for me? There was a dead man. Normal people call the cops.”
Officer Pearson gave a slow nod.
“Oh,” I breathed, feeling my back tighten, and my stomach plummet. “We’re not normal people.”
“Your words, not mine,” the cop said. “Does Mr. Luzzi know about this?”
“Kind of.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I’m friends with Carlos’s head of security—er, his best pal,” I said, ignoring mine and Anthony’s new relationship status for the second time that day, leaving out the boy in boyfriend. “I called and updated him, so I’m assuming he’ll pass the info along to Carlos.”
Officer Pearson looked as if he didn’t quite trust me. “Listen, I don’t want any trouble. I’d appreciate it if you can let Carlos know that.”
“I’m sorry, of course. I’ll pass along your good intentions.”
“We’ll do an investigation, but what I’m saying is that I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes here. I can tell you’re not being completely honest with me about Carlos, and I’m not sure why – I think you should let him know what’s happening. In fact, tell your grandfather I’ll be in touch,” Officer Pearson gave a head tilt in my direction. “We can figure out how to best proceed for everyone involved.”
“But if someone is killed, shouldn’t you find out who murdered him?” I blurted. I loved my grandfather and I needed my job quite desperately, but I wasn’t a bad person. At least not covering-up-a-murder bad.
“Yes, and we will find the killer.” Officer Pearson shifted, his discomfort showing as his handlebar mustache twitched again. “That’s my point, Lacey. Make sure that your Family’s clean on this one because I can’t sit back and do nothing. I hope you and Carlos truly do have no idea what happened here tonight.”
Everything started to click into place in my head.
The policeman continued, “Our town is known for peace and relaxation. This is the first murder we’ve had in years, and I don’t plan on ruining Tonka’s reputation. Up until now, it’s been a pleasure having Carlos participate in the local community. He brings money to the city and donates handsomely to the church, God bless him. He keeps to himself and mows his lawn. What more can we ask for?”
“I see your point.” In fact, I myself wouldn’t mind a man who donated to the Lacey fund and mowed my lawn. Sounded pretty nice to me. Maybe Anthony liked mowing...
Officer Pearson brought me back to the present as he leaned in, his voice gruff. “But Carlos and us, we had a deal. Make sure he remembers it. Mr. Luzzi can’t be bringing his business here.”
“I understand,” I whispered.
Officer Pearson smiled tightly and guided me from the backyard to the front. “Now, if you need anything, let me know. Do you want me to have a patrol car come by here for the rest of the night?”
“Sure,” I said. “That would make me feel safer, I think. It’ll be hard to sleep knowing what happened here today.”
The officer nodded, but he was interrupted as a Lamborghini as black as the glittering lake sped into the driveway and skidded to a stop. A split second after the car stopped moving, Anthony stepped onto the driveway, blending into the night with his dark hair, dark eyes, and tight black shirt.
In a flash, he found my gaze and strode towards us.
“On second thought,” I turned to Officer Pearson, “I don’t think we’ll be needing that patrol car.”
Chapter 10
“I’m not prepared for you to sleep here,” I said, feeling extremely self-conscious.
“Not a problem for me.” Anthony lay sprawled on my bed looking all too comfortable. He also looked pretty delicious, kind of like the huge piece of tiramisu I’d been dreaming of for weeks, but denying myself due to an upcoming engagement with a tight dress.
In reality, I was more than thrilled Anthony had offered to stay overnight and excited beyond belief at the possibility of stealing some alone time. But the cold, hard truth of the matter was that I hadn’t shaved, showered, or prepared in any way for the fun stuff. I’d thought it was a girls’ weekend, after all.
“I don’t even have pajamas,” I felt immediately lame as I spoke.
“Still not a problem for me.”
“But it’s a little bit of a problem for me.” I crossed the room and perched on the edge of the bed, further away from my man. There was something about being close to Anthony that made my mind shut down, and I needed at least a foot of thinking space. Anthony-the-tiramisu was break-your-diet tempting.
“Why’s that, sugar?” Anthony sat up and gripped my oversized T-shirt so hard he pulled me right up, close and personal.
So much for my space bubble.
The shirt in question didn’t belong to me. Meg had offered up her extra pajamas after mine had been confiscated by the cops. I’d taken her up on it, which in retrospect had been a terrible idea.
I did my best to rock her shirt, but it just wasn’t me. The material was neon pink, sported the letter B combined with the word ITCH across the front in glamorous faux diamonds, and had a low neck that dipped nearly to my belly button. The bottom of the shirt hovered just below my rear end, and though Meg said it was a nighty, the T-shirt most certainly was not. I needed to find pants before I got in trouble.
“Because,” I said, stopping my sentence to watch what Anthony was doing to me. One hand slid under the hem of my shirt and toyed with the thin strap holding my cotton bikini undies together.
“Relax,” Anthony said. “Don’t worry so much.”
Thankfully, before I started mumbling nonsense, Anthony scooped me from below my knees and toppled me onto the bed.
“Hey,” I shrieked, though I couldn’t stop surprised laughter from creeping out. “You touched my butt.”
Anthony rolled me underneath him. He held himself over me, his eyes intently focused on mine. Our faces were so close our breath twirled together in the air, mine coming in rapid, excited bursts. I stared up, pinned under his lithe frame. Anthony was sturdy in a way that said strong, but not body builder, and he carried himself with a grace I envied. Right now, his eyes were pure dark chocolate, as dangerous as I’d ever seen them.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against the sensitive part of my neck just below my ear, and his voice was husky as he whispered, “Just say the words.”
My mind was completely blank. What words? I stumbled for a few ph
rases and tried for a sentence. “U-uh, ahh. Mm—”
“Sugar, those are not words.” Anthony paused for a moment and focused on my eyes. The way he looked far past my irises and into my soul made me feel as if I was the only girl he’d ever held so close. The intensity of his gaze was almost unnerving.
With a sigh, Anthony rolled over and lay next to me on the bed. His hand, however, didn’t leave my thigh. “You can’t invite me to ‘see your room,’ and then open the door wearing that…that lingerie and not expect me to try something, babe.”
“This is Meg’s old shirt! It’s not lingerie.”
“Well, it shows your butt.”
“It does not.”
“I saw cheek,” he said, hoisting himself up on an elbow, his eyes glimmering with amusement.
The way his eyes sparkled, while his lips quirked up in a smile, melted my heart. A strong part of me wanted to break my Anthony-fast for good. I was pretty sure he could rock my world, since the few times he touched my leg tonight were really enjoyable.
But another part of me wondered if tonight wasn’t the best choice for our first romantic encounter. After all, we were sharing a house with three strange men, my nosy best bud, and a dead body. I didn’t want our relationship to be consummated at the scene of a murder.
“Hey, I know you’ve had a rough day,” Anthony said, his voice gentle as if reading my mind. He leaned in, his fingers trailing lightly through my hair. “I’m just joking with you. Having fun.”
I gave a small smile, my heart full of appreciation. “I didn’t want you to think I’m not interested. It’s just…I want our first time to be special. I don’t want to associate us for the rest of my life with the day I found a body in my car.”
“Stop.” He pressed his lips to my forehead and took a long moment before responding. “I know. I was just trying to distract you from everything you’ve been through, lighten the mood a little. I wasn’t expecting anything.”
“Well, you don’t have to stop having fun,” I said, suddenly feeling nervous, as if I’d misread the situation entirely. “I just wanted to be honest.”
Anthony grinned. “For the record, I wouldn’t say no if you changed your mind, but—”
“Now you’re just making me feel bad,” I said. “Stop it.”
“Stop what?” Anthony asked, pulling me in for a long, deep kiss.
“Never mind,” I said, sneaking in a breath. “I forgot what I was talking about.”
“How about you go take a shower and then we talk about what happened,” Anthony said. “It’s not good for you to keep that all cooped up inside.”
“What happened?” I looked confused at him.
Anthony cleared his throat. “The murder. The whole reason I’m here.”
“Oh, that,” I said, blushing. It was incredible how quickly my mind stopped functioning when Anthony began touching me. “Right.”
Anthony ran a hand through his hair, which did nothing to help me regain my train of thought. His biceps tightened with the effort and his locks were just mussed enough to be almost cute. Except that Anthony wasn’t cute – he was scorching. And I’m pretty sure if I ever told him that he looked cute, I probably wouldn’t be dating him for much longer.
“Tell me about what happened,” he said. “Since it doesn’t look like you’re moving towards the shower.”
“You’re really ruining the moment,” I said.
“I’m ruining the moment?” Anthony crooked an eyebrow at me. “What moment? You just told me that nothing was happening here tonight.”
I shook my head, mostly to clear the heat waves shorting out my brain circuits. I was also stalling for time, since I wasn’t particularly in the mood to switch from playful banter to discussing the details of a crime scene.
“Well, I told you the basics,” I said. “I forgot my pajamas in the car, and when I opened the trunk there was a dead guy lying on top of my Target bag.”
“Is that all you remember?” he asked. “Please Lace, if there’s anything else don’t leave it out. I’m only asking so I can protect you. I know it’s hard to talk about.”
I turned down my lower lip. “I don’t remember much else except Meg gave me a glass of wine or two to help calm my nerves.”
“I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you go take a shower? I’ll talk to Meg while the events are fresh in her head.” Anthony stood, leaving me huddled up on the bed.
“Please don’t go yet,” I said, drawing my knees to my chin and wrapping my arms around my legs like a child. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“Of course,” Anthony said, sitting next to me, moving as gingerly as if I were a newborn baby. “I didn’t know…”
His presence next to me was warm and comforting, and after a moment of sitting in silence, I stretched out on top of the covers and pulled Anthony next to me. We lay next to each other, side to side on the bed, staring at the ceiling. My chest felt a bit constricted, and my breathing rattled loud and clear.
Anthony reached out a hand, covering mine with his larger one. Almost immediately my muscles relaxed, and my breathing came a bit easier. A few minutes later, I found my voice and began talking. I filled Anthony in on each and every little detail I could remember – from the number of chicken wings I’d consumed to the warning from Officer Pearson – until I couldn’t talk anymore.
“You did the right thing,” Anthony said after I’d finished. “I’m proud of you.”
“Really?” I turned to look at him. “I thought I panicked.”
“You did panic, but you’re allowed,” Anthony said, a small smile forming on his lips. “I think you were brave in spite of everything.”
“You’re not mad I called the cops?”
“I’ll sort all that out. For right now, I’m most glad you’re safe.” Anthony wiggled one arm behind my head and pulled me close. “It sounds terrible, but I’m happy to be here with you.”
“I’m happy you’re here too,” I whispered. “I’ll take a shower in a second, but for now can we just lay here?”
“For as long as you want.”
I rested my head on Anthony’s chest, letting the beat of his heart lull me into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter 11
“How long was I out?” I asked, jolting awake. The room was dark, and it took me a moment to take in my surroundings. Remembering that I was in a bedroom up at Nora’s and Carlos’s cabin, I quickly made the connection between the hard chest pressed against my body and Anthony’s hand on my thigh.
“About ten minutes.” His voice rumbled softly in the night.
“Oh,” I said, a little let down. I felt as if I’d drifted off for hours.
“But I think you went straight into REM because your snores were enough to raise the dead guy out there.”
“That’s not funny,” I said, lightly punching his arm. “I don’t appreciate gallows humor. And I don’t appreciate you accusing me of snoring.”
“Next you’ll be telling me that’s not your drool on my chest.”
Horrified, I glanced down at Anthony’s shirt. As it was dark in the room, it was difficult to tell whether it was a shadow or a little pool of wetness under his collar bone. I didn’t stay long enough to find out.
“I’ve got to take a shower,” I said, rolling away, embarrassment burning my cheeks.
“I was just joking,” Anthony said, his arms tightening around my waist and rolling me right back against him. “I like you just the way you are, drool and all.”
My face must have betrayed my dismay. “Let me go, please. I’m going to shower.”
His grip loosened, his face falling slack in a confused expression. “What did I say? I thought that was what you’d want to hear.”
I turned to face him at the bathroom door. “Name one girl in the entire world who wants to hear that she snored and drooled on her new boyfriend’s shirt.”
“I’m sorry.” Anthony put his hands over his eyes. “I’m new at this, too. I didn’t mean it. It’s prob
ably not even drool – maybe you just sweated a little bit or something.”
“Here’s a suggestion. If you don’t have anything nice to say,” I offered. “Just don’t say anything at all.”
“I’m sorry!”
I resisted rolling my eyes. After all, we both had things to adjust to now that we were a couple. Instead, I shut the door and locked my shameful, drool-filled mouth in the bathroom.
Chapter 12
“You look beautiful,” Anthony said, his voice hopeful as I emerged from the bathroom.
“Okay, okay, buddy. No need to go overboard. I’m not mad.”
“I was just being honest before,” Anthony said, the relief evident in his voice. “I’m glad you understand.”
Feeling exasperation bubble up in my chest, I moved next to Anthony on the bed and put my hands on his shoulders, looking him in the eye with all the seriousness I could muster, while wearing a shirt that belonged on a mannequin in a sketchy lingerie store.
“I’m still not mad, but sometimes there is such a thing as being too honest,” I said.
“But—”
“Trust me on this,” I said. “Now that we’re a couple, there are a few times it’s okay to lie to me.”
His gaze filled with distrust, Anthony crossed his arms. “Like when?”
“Like when I drool on your shirt or snore really loudly.” I paused. “And I don’t snore loudly.”
“But I heard it—”
“Anthony,” I warned. “Let’s try this again. Do I snore?”
Catching on, Anthony shook his head solemnly. “Never.”
“Good!”
“Out of curiosity, what else don’t you do?” He looked as eager to learn as a high school senior on the final day of class.
“I’ll keep the list short for now,” I said. “But for starters, I don’t snore, I don’t drool, and I do sweat – but only daintily. Also, I don’t ever go number two.”
“Number two?”
“In the bathroom, Anthony. Number one and number two. You do know what that means?”
Anthony’s eyes widened with horror. Leaning in, he whispered in my ear. “That’s a real medical condition, Lacey. I’m sure Dr. Gambino has something he can give you—”
