by Jianne Carlo
His snorted disbelief prompted her to rush into an explanation. “My thesis revolves around the theory that there are a number of different body types, and each body type craves the kind of fat that’s most easily stored for that body type. I’m tracking the types of fat stored at different stages of life and analyzing the role diet plays at each stage.”
“I get it. Petra’s been on every diet known to man. She says she sticks to the diet and exercises, but she never loses more than five pounds.” He caught her hand and brushed his lips over her knuckles. “No wonder she volunteered. Not just gorgeous, but smart as a whip too. I’d like to see your notes for the thesis. Intriguing theory.”
She rubbed one foot over the other and thanked all the gods above for the darkness preventing him from seeing her blush. He wanted to see her notes; she could’ve kissed him silly for that.
“Does the silence mean it’s all a top-secret clearance?”
“No. Of course not.” She worried her lower lip. “You’ll probably be bored to tears, but you’re welcome to see them.”
“Told you before. You couldn’t bore me if you tried.” He tweaked her nose. “Grant also told me you’re on a tight schedule to submit your thesis. Don’t waste your precious time searching for a place. Stay here. We can work out a formal agreement if you want. Or we can take it one day at a time.”
What did he mean? Move in with him? Roomies with benefits? Or more?
“Sleep on it.” He gathered her to his side and massaged her shoulder in an absent manner. “There’s a slim chance that between now and when you graduate I may actually teach you enough to get through your graduation dance.”
She smacked his arm. “Slim chance?”
He chuckled. “You have a disturbing tendency to lead, gypsy.”
“Disturbing?” She nuzzled his ear. Gawd, his spicy musky smell was intoxicating. He felt and tasted great too—steel and heat, salty and sweet.
“The man leads.”
She yawned. “If I weren’t so sleepy all of a sudden, I’d argue that one.”
“Your eyelids have been drooping for the last fifteen minutes.”
“How’d you know that?” She blinked and yawned again. “Must remember to ask about your amber eyes.”
Her neck went slack, and she couldn’t keep her eyes open. She shook her head.
“Don’t fight it, gypsy. Sleep.”
She yawned again and snuggled into his side.
“No regrets?” He combed his fingers through her hair.
“Nary a one,” she mumbled through another yawn.
“You’re dead tired. What time do you need to be at the college tomorrow?” He tucked a few strands behind her ears.
“No classes. Don’t even have to go there tomorrow.”
He rearranged her leg to drape his pelvis. “Comfy?”
“Purr-fect.” She sank into him.
“Good. Now sleep.” He kissed the tip of her forehead and cradled her in his embrace.
“’Kay.”
The sandman sprinkled his magic dust, and Susie drifted off. She dreamed of bells clanging and woke to find Joe spooning her back, his erection nudging her thigh, and his warm arms and musky aroma cocooning her in an envelope of safety. He rubbed her neck with his nose. Muttered a curse when the bells continued to ring insistently.
“It’s fricking seven thirty. Who the hell’s ringing the doorbell at this ungodly hour?” He kissed her nape. “After I ring the idiot’s neck, I’ll bring you a cup of coffee.”
Sleep haze clung to Susie’s brain. She mumbled thank you and buried her nose in the pillow. The sound of deep male voices flitted to her ears. She rose onto her forearms and knuckled her eyes. The open drapes let watery morning light into the room. A dense, smoky cloud cover hugged the skies. She loved rainy days, the snuggle-up-with-a-book coziness designed for hot romance and hidden mysteries, for Joe’s body and that gorgeous cock of his, for sensual exploration and languid caressing.
Ten minutes later she realized Joe’s return had been delayed by the visitor, and curiosity got the better of her. She rolled out of bed, brushed her teeth, and washed up. A cursory search unearthed her discarded clothes. She opted not to wear the ribbon panties, decided against the wide leather belt and the poet shirt and borrowed one of Joe’s T-shirts instead. She draped the rest of the garments on the armchair in one corner before leaving the room.
Joe sat at the four-seater kitchen table framed by a large picture window. He cradled a coffee cup and glanced her way. The morbid expression he wore sent chills down her spine. “Kieran’s taking a call from Eugene, his father-in-law. He went into the study.”
“Something’s happened.” She leaned against the counter.
He shoved the chair from the table, rose, and captured her in a tight embrace and slid his thigh between hers. “Kieran wanted to see the place where I found Petey, and once Barb was out for the night, he went to the ravine. I knew he’d want to see it at some point and had given him directions. He discovered the remains of another body in the woods on the other side of the mountain.”
All the saliva in her mouth evaporated. She drew back to meet Joe’s troubled gaze. “How far…”
“A good few miles from Petey.”
“Oh God.” Her knees wobbled. “I need to sit.”
His large palms warmed her cheeks. “Take a deep breath. You’ve gone as white as a ghost. That’s it. Inhale. Exhale. Kieran, pour Susie a cup of coffee.”
She hadn’t even heard Kieran come in, but glimpsed him behind Joe walking to the coffeemaker. Covering Joe’s hands with hers, she said, “I’m okay. I just needed a moment.”
Straightening, she gripped the counter until the tips of her fingers burned, then stepped to the side, gave Joe her back, and focused on the grieving father. “You must be Kieran. I am so sorry we have to meet under these horrific circumstances.”
“Me too. Joe says you have something to tell me about my son.”
Susie glanced over her shoulder at Joe.
He nodded. “He needs to know.”
Kieran handed her a mug. “Maybe she should have a bite to eat. She’s got no color in her face. Does she faint?”
“No. She doesn’t faint. And she also takes great offense to being talked about as if she’s not here.” Susie footed a chair wide and sat.
“Ah. That put the color back in your cheeks.” Kieran tunneled a hand through his spiky mud-brown hair and slouched onto the bench seat below the window. “Joe says Petey came to you.”
Her stomach rioted and her vocal cords squeezed tight, she trained her gaze on the backyard and tried to gather her careening emotions. Concentrating on the half-sprouted blades of grass, she described what had happened the evening before. A soft, misty rain had started falling, and the pea plant climbing the trellis leaning on the southern end of the deck glistened a wet emerald shade of green.
Joe stood behind the chair, resting his hands on her shoulders and giving her the occasional encouraging squeeze.
“Did you see the rock?”
“No.” She met Kieran’s stare, noticed the weary redness rimming his brown irises, and her throat clogged again. Anguish oozed from the man. He wore his agony like a medieval hair shirt, a cilice to keep the pain fresh. The craving for vengeance permeated his every move, the constantly clenched jaw, the flared nostrils, and his rigid posture.
“The remains I found are very old, and I can’t see how they’d have anything to do with Petey. But he came to you and spoke to you of a rock.” Kieran squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t let it go without first finding that rock and trying to figure out what he wants.”
“You don’t think that maybe his message was about the body, uh, remains you found?”
“No. There were no rocks near the remains.”
“Both Kieran and I think you might be able to interpret Petey’s message better if you saw where he was found.” Joe took the empty coffee mug from her and set it in the sink.
Kieran lumbered to st
anding and stuck his hands down the front pockets of his jeans. “Only if you feel up to it.”
“Of course. Shall we go now? I need to change first, but it’ll take me less than five minutes to be ready.”
“I need to get dressed too and I have some stuff to wrap up.” Joe rinsed the cup and stacked it on the dish drainer. “Want to meet us at the junction in say, an hour and a half?”
“Sure. I want to go back and check on Barb anyway. She and her folks are going to the funeral home today to make the arrangements.”
Tears pooled in Susie’s eyes. How did anyone deal with such an awful tragedy? To have to plan the funeral of your only child. The last thing Kieran needed was a weepy female. To keep busy, she elbowed Joe aside, snatched a kitchen towel from a bar on the stove, picked up the mug, and dried it, grateful the men couldn’t see the hot moisture sliding down her cheeks.
“How long are Eugene and Christine staying?”
“They’re due to go back to Austin on Sunday. Thanks for cooperating, Susie. I’ll see you two at the M&M junction in ninety minutes.”
Susie stayed in the kitchen while Joe showed Kieran out. The tears she couldn’t stop blurred her vision.
“Hey.” Joe hugged her from behind.
“Sorry to be so watery.” She swiped at her face.
“It’s okay to cry. It’s better to cry. Healthier. Or so I’ve heard.” He kissed her ear. “You sure you’re up to this?”
She turned in his arms. “Of course I am. If I can do anything, anything at all to help Barb and Kieran, I will. Do you think there’s a chance we’ll find a clue?”
“The possibility’s slim, but there. Right now my goal is keeping Kieran together. His whole focus is finding Petey’s killer. For the next few days he’s got Barb covered, but once her parents leave, he’ll need to be with her.”
“I wish there was more that I could do.”
“You’re here. That’s all I need.” He brushed his lips to her forehead. “I have to scrounge up some tracking equipment from the garage. Want to meet me in the driveway in half an hour?”
“Of course. Is there anything you want me to do?” She couldn’t resist stroking his jaw, feeling the solidness, the reality of him, the rough stubble coating his chin. It comforted her in some strange way.
“If you feel like it, fill a couple of car mugs with protein shakes. The fixings are in the cupboard next to the fridge.” He dropped his arms. “We both need something in our stomachs.”
“Gotcha.” She gave him a little push. “Don’t worry about me. Contrary to what you might think, I am not the fainting type.”
“No. I know you’re not.” He thumbed her lower lip. “Not exactly what I had planned for this morning, but I’ll make up for it later.”
“Go do what you have to.” She crossed her eyes. “I’ll get the instant breakfast.”
He disappeared down the hallway while Susie found a carton of milk and put together the protein shakes. She rushed back to her room, changed, and grabbed the travel mugs before heading out to the driveway.
“Where’s this M&M junction?” She snapped her seat belt on, stashed her purse on the floor, the mugs in the two holders, and set her cell in the alcove between the seats.
Joe added his phone to the same nook. “It’s where the two rivers meet, the Mudflat and the Mahnee.”
“Hence the M&M. How far out of town is it?”
“Farther than you’d expect. The two rivers originate on opposite sides of Hallelujah Mountain and both run into the Swanee.”
“The Swanee runs into the Gulf of Mexico, right?” She pictured the state map in her head but couldn’t pinpoint the area to which he referred. “Okay, I’m totally lost, but I’ve never been known for my sense of direction. How long before we get there?”
He snickered, and she shot him a glare. “If looks could kill… We actually have to drive around the base of the mountain to get to the woods where we’re meeting Kieran. It’ll take at least thirty-five minutes.”
She sipped the protein shake. “Won’t the police object to our presence?”
“Kieran called in a favor. Or rather his father did. We have a window of two hours when the crime scene won’t be under guard.”
“I imagine a former senator has powerful connections. But that seems an awfully big favor.”
“Yep.”
“You don’t want to talk about it.”
His focus remained concentrated on the road. “Nope.”
“Joe?”
“Susie?” He glanced her way and grinned. “Something on your mind?”
“You left the cafeteria yesterday just before three o’clock, and you were home by six. How on earth did you manage to track and find Petey so quickly?”
Joe’s cell clanged.
“Sounds like the doorbell.”
“Notre Dame’s bells. Not easy to ignore.” He set the phone to his ear after checking the display. “What’s up, Tate?”
“Yeah.”
Susie’d clean forgotten to send her new number to her family. Well, she’d only been incommunicado for what? Less than two days. Call or text? Text. Fewer questions.
After checking the time, near nine forty-five, she thumbed, Had to change cell phones. My new number is 812-678-7656. She paused, her finger hovering above Send, and added. In seminars today. Will call tonight.
“What’s that you’re texting?”
“Sending my new number to my family.”
“Tell me about them.”
“There’s my mother, two sisters, Melanie and Lizzie, and a brother, Gray.”
“You say that with a smile in your voice.”
“They can be a huge pain, but I love them anyway. I’m the baby and they never let me forget it.” She remembered what he’d said about his upbringing. “It must’ve been hard on you, not having any parents.”
“My gran-gran made up for it. She was an ornery old lady. Loved me to death. I never felt unwanted if that’s what you’re thinking. Gran-gran made sure I stuck to the straight and narrow. I was a wild kid. Always getting into scrapes.” He geared down, and they turned onto a gravel road. “What about your father?”
She fiddled with the seat belt, buying time while trying to decide what to tell him. “He died a while back. My mother’s gaga over her first and only grandbaby, my niece, Jackie. She’s one, precocious, and positively loquacious. Honest to God, this is the absolute truth. Instead of a first word, Jackie had a first sentence: ‘No little green balls.’”
Joe chuckled. “Little green balls?”
“She hates peas.” Susie grinned, remembering Melanie and Mike’s sagging jaws when Jackie dropped her bombshell sentence.
“Sounds like a fireball.”
“She is. Has an opinion on everything. Oh my goodness. She loves the color pink. Refuses to wear any other. Can you imagine what she’d make of my bedroom?”
His cell clanged again. Sighing, he picked up the phone and answered, his tone testy. “Yes, Tate. What now? Uh-huh.”
The low drone of the pickup’s engines didn’t prevent her from hearing the other man’s deep voice, though she couldn’t make out his words. At least the weather seemed to be improving: large patches of blue vied for supremacy with thick, smutty clouds.
“Really? Description.”
Susie frowned at the change in Joe’s voice. She studied his face.
“Hang on.” His gaze met hers. “Your brother, Gray, wouldn’t happen to be about six-two, dark hair, dark eyes, and more Native American in appearance than you, would he?”
Chapter Seven
Joe had to choke back a grin at Susie’s horrified grimace.
“Gray? Please tell me he’s not here.”
“Here and pissed. I asked a buddy of mine, Tate, to keep an eye on our place and the neighborhood while we were gone. Tate says your brother turned up about ten minutes ago. Apparently he grew worried about not being able to get ahold of you on your cell and flew down to check on you. He went to Terri’s
house. Heard all about the explosion from Zaara Hassani, who told him that you were now living with me. That didn’t sit too well with your brother. He thought Tate was me and started a fight.”
“I’ll kill him. With my bare hands.”
Susie’s narrowed eyes, clenched jaw, pursed lips, and the twin roses staining her cheeks spoke of a sibling’s temper. He couldn’t help it. Joe burst into laughter. The more she glowered, the harder he laughed. Tears streamed from his eyes.
“What’s so funny, Joe Huroq?” If an expression could spit fire, hers would’ve incinerated him about seven seconds back.
“Nothing. Tate, put Gray on the phone. Here.” He gave her his phone and swiped the sleeve of his shirt over a cheek. Her poor brother was in for a head-to-toe scolding. “Talk to your brother. Calm him down.”
She handled the cell as if it was covered in germs.
“Gray?”
“Where the hell are you, Susie? And why the hell didn’t you call when your goddamned house burned down?”
Joe winced. His wolf hearing amplified every word Gray yelled.
“Don’t you shout at me, Gray Theodore White.”
“I. Am. Not. Shouting.”
Susie held the phone away from her ear and counted aloud to three. “I will hang up on you if you don’t calm down.”
“Mama’s been frantic. Mike just about had to tie Melanie down to keep her from coming with me. I’ve been thinking the worst. You could’ve called.”
She peeked at Joe, who shrugged. “I did text.”
“Three minutes ago. After two days of not a word from you.”
Joe felt a twinge of guilt for listening in on their conversation.
“I was busy. Having everything go up in smoke is a ton of work.”
“You’re living with a mercenary. A man who kills for money.”
Damn. This wasn’t going down the way he’d hoped.
She rolled her eyes. “Joe’s not like that. And I’m not living with him. He’s letting me use his spare bedroom until I can arrange other housing.”
“Really? Is that why I found your underwear, shirt, and belt in his bedroom?”
Her brother’d seen those panties? No wonder he was pissed.
