by Larry Darter
Mike fit squarely in the “nice guys” category. Not that there was anything wrong with him wanting to settle down and have a family, what had killed the relationship was his almost single-minded pursuit of convincing me to want the same thing when I’d told him again and again I wasn’t ready for it. I was never a girl who had dreamed of staying home raising babies while my man went out to work and paid all the bills. I didn’t need a man to protect me. I think my father had first instilled the streak of independence in me. It had then been honed to a razor-sharp edge during my time in the New Zealand military and later as a constable in the New Zealand police service.
The worst thing about relationships with guys like Mike was when they ended it wasn’t a natural death. They ended with heaps of drama, heartache, and hurt feelings all around.
My husband, David had been a bit of the best of both worlds. He might have been considered a “nice guy” in many respects, but there was another side to him, an underlying dangerous layer. When we married, he’d held a junior diplomatic post for his government in New Zealand. It wasn’t until after I’d married him I’d learned he wasn’t a diplomat at all. His real job was with an American agency with a three-letter acronym for a name he never used, but instead referred to as “other government agency.” That lent a mysterious and risky side to him I found incredibly hot and erotic. We married, but we’d both been onside with the decision. He had never pushed me toward it. I ran toward it and embraced it with open arms. I loved him as fiercely as he loved me, and we hadn’t ever spoken seriously about having children. Even if David had lived, I’m not sure we’d have ever had kids.
Sometimes I thought my attraction to Malone had much to do with my marriage to David. I could see much of the same things in Malone I’d loved about my husband. Because of the similarities between them, it seemed possible my intense feelings for Malone had always been because I saw him standing as a proxy for David.
Regardless of the source, I still had an affection for Malone, and the same was true of Mike. Now I had added Nick to the heady mix. It all seemed such a confusing mess that left me feeling massively conflicted.
Despite my mind being all over the show rendering me almost unable to focus, I’d somehow managed to finish writing my statement by the time a uniformed officer brought Grace in from another interview room. The cop handed Grace’s statement to Mike. He’d just finished reading mine. Once he’d read Grace’s, Mike smiled.
“They match almost perfectly,” he said. “We’re good to go, ladies. We can all call it a night and get out of here.”
I looked at the clock again, and chewed my bottom lip a little, when I saw it was after ten. It was too late to ring Nick. Aw gutted! The extreme carnal yearnings that had been building all evening had reached a fever pitch. What was I expected to do with that?
Grace looked at me. “Want me to drop you at your office?” she said.
Mike spoke up, looking at me. “It’s late so feel free to say no if you’re too tired, but would you be interested in having a drink?” he said. “We could put our heads together and come up with a plan for dealing with Chambers and Bryce.”
I thought about it. “Sure, ahkay, if you want to,” I said. “Too late to do anything else tonight, anyway.”
Turning to Grace I said, “Think you can find your hotel okay?”
“Yes, it’s on Waikiki,” Grace said. “The rental car has GPS.”
“Sweet, guess we’re all good.”
I took out a business card and wrote my mobile number on the back. I handed the card to Grace.
“Ring me tomorrow and we’ll have a catch-up.”
“That would be great,” Grace said. “Maybe you could show me a few of the Honolulu sights.”
We said goodnight to Grace, and an officer escorted her out.
“Certain having a drink with me won’t cause you issues with the stupid cow?” I said.
“To tell the truth, I’m sure I’ll be sleeping on the couch again tonight when I get home anyway,” Mike said.
“Oh, Mike, I’m sorry if that’s on me,” I said.
“No, it isn’t your fault,” Mike said. “I shouldn’t dump it on you, but things aren’t working out with Maki the way I had thought they would.”
“Still, I feel sad for you, mate,” I said. “You’re a good friend, and you mean a lot to me.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Mike said. “I’ll be fine. I just have to work a few things out. Where do you want to go? The Likelike again?”
I had a think. “I’m feeling a bit knackered, actually. I’ve got sandwich stuff if you’re hungry, beer, and rum at my place. Would it feel awkward coming to my place for a drink and our strategy session?”
My stomach clenched a bit after I’d said it. Was it because it wasn’t an awesome idea inviting Mike to my house? Or was it because I feared he might say no to the invitation and I’d feel rejected?
“No, it wouldn’t seem awkward,” Mike said. “I haven’t seen your house, and I’d love to. I’m good with it.”
“Cool, then let’s get out of here,” I said.
We left for my house in Mike’s unmarked car. I’d told him I couldn’t be bothered with grabbing the motorbike from the office. It would be fine there overnight. I’d take a taxi to the office in the morning and get it then.
Twenty-Three
I was lying on my side facing the window. It was dark in the room except for the paper thin shafts of sunlight filtering in through the bamboo slats of the window blinds. Morning already? I had a dull headache, but it wasn’t the unbearable variety as hangover headaches sometimes were. I vaguely remembered the heaps of beersies we’d drank, then the rum cocktails until the bottle had run dry, followed by the two bottles of pinot noir I’d brought back from the recent trip to New Zealand. Considering how much I’d drunk the night before, the hangover wasn’t bad, as hangovers went. Still, I wished we’d stopped with the beersies.
Strong arms encircled me, his smooth chest warm against the bare skin of my back. It was then I became painfully aware I was naked. Wait! I never slept in the nude unless—Ahhhh fuck! What the hell had I done? Shit. Shit. Shit. I felt his warm breath against my neck. Bloody hell. I’d stuffed it again. I’d made yet another in my long line of extremely poor judgement calls.
Was he asleep? Tense and wary, I strained to listen for any sign he was awake. I was about to slip out of bed when I felt it pressed firmly against my backside. Then his warm large hands traveled slowly down my sides until they tightly grasped each of my hips. Bugger. He wasn’t asleep.
Maybe if I pretended to be sleeping, it would discourage him. Then the images of the shagfest the night before flooded my mind. Ahhh, fuck! The damage had long since been done. What was the point of fighting this now? Besides, the ache was back. That awful, demanding ache clamoring to be sated once again. Resistance seemed futile. Not that I wanted to resist, anyway. I was all in on what was happening.
He was persistent but tender. It started slow, the tempo even. But, then the pace quickened, more urgent, unrelenting. How could I have been so reckless? Whoa! Clenches, spasms. My bloody body had a mind of its own. I released a sigh and gave in to it. The ache demanded it. My heart pounded, my breaths came in gasps between the moans and a series of earth-shaking tremors.
When we finished in a massive crescendo, my legs felt like jelly, my limbs were heavy. I felt uncertain I was capable of movement, my mind had turned to mush. The all too familiar post-coital raw sent of sex permeated the room. I lay quietly basking in the afterglow, loving the pleasurable tiny aftershocks. I’d forgotten how amazing it had been with him in the past. I released a satisfied sigh.
Mike whispered in my ear, “God, I’ve missed you so much.”
What was I meant to say to that? Congratulations? Welcome home? Did he expect me to parrot it back? Unsure, I said nothing.
“You want coffee?” Mike said.
“Coffee would be awesome, thanks,” I said.
As Mike rolled out
of bed, I rolled over on my other side and watched him walking out of the bedroom starkers. Good lord! It was the second seriously nice male arse I’d seen lately. I could tell Mike had been hitting the gym. Flopping onto my back, I covered my eyes with my forearm. Shit. Shit. Shit. Not good. I was just a class girl wasn’t I? Then I popped out of bed and dashed to the bathroom.
I sat across the table from Mike wrapped modestly in a bath towel, another towel wrapped about my damp hair. I felt slightly more human after a hot shower and vigorous brushing of my teeth. We were drinking coffee. I chewed a bite of jam-covered toast. I swallowed it.
“We shouldn’t have, Mike,” I said. “It was a total cock up.”
“Are you sorry we did?” Mike said a hurt look crossing his handsome face.
“No, not exactly,” I said. “It felt awesome and was stupidly good, actually. But, that isn’t the point. You’re living with someone, and you will be in such a pile of poop. You will be lucky if Oshiro doesn’t cut your nuts off in your sleep.”
“I’m not concerned about Maki,” Mike said. “I just don’t want you having regrets about last night.”
“It doesn’t say much for my character, but I haven’t any regrets. Not exactly.”
“Then it’s all good,” Mike said.
“Mike, I don’t want to be a relationship wrecker. No matter what you say, if this causes issues between you and her, you know how I am. I’ll take responsibility for it, and the weight of the guilt will crush me.”
“It wasn’t anyone’s fault,” Mike said. “It just happened.”
“And, there is this, Mike. As good as it was last night, as much as I loved it this morning when we were relatively sober, can’t forget that bit, you can’t be thinking it meant more than it does. It doesn’t mean we’re going back to how it used to be with us, picking up where we left off. I won’t see you hurt again.”
“I know, I’m not expecting that,” Mike said. “Speaking of this morning, it surprised me you didn’t tell me to stop. I thought you never wanted it in the morning. But, this morning you were really into it.”
“Mike things change, people change, we develop new appetites. The way I feel about having it in the morning has changed. That’s all. I’ve discovered I like having it in the morning. A lot, actually.”
“You mean you discovered you like having it in the morning while sleeping with some other guy since we broke up?”
“Yeah, nah, Mike,” I said. “We aren’t even having that conversation. Not even. Not now. Never. It’s none of your business.”
“Sorry, I was only making an observation, not judging.”
“Just drop it, Mike, before you wind me up. We shared a seriously pleasurable night, and a brilliant morning. Let’s not ruin it with an argument.”
“Okay, I shouldn’t have said what I did.”
“So, what are you going to do about your girlfriend?” I said.
“I told you it hasn’t been working. I’d already been thinking of ending it with Maki. I decided last night, before we, you know. I’m telling her today how I feel about it, I’m asking her to move out.”
“Bloody hell, Mike,” I said. “Are you sure you want to do that? Please, don’t break up with her over me. We made a massive mistake. I think you should tell her it happened. After all, you didn’t show up at home last night. But, tell her it was my fault. Tell her we were drunk. I seduced you during a moment of weakness. Apologize and promise to make it up to her. She will be pissed, but you could likely salvage things.”
“T. J., it has nothing to do with you,” Mike said. “Hooking up with Maki was a mistake from the start. I was on the rebound. We aren’t the right people for each other. That’s why it isn’t working.”
“Well, all right, if that’s true. I just don’t want to be the woman who screwed up your relationship by screwing you.”
“I know what you said earlier, and even if it never happens again, I want you to know last night and this morning were the best times I’ve had since we broke up. It has never been like that with Maki.”
“Mike, it won’t happen again, not ever. It can’t happen again. It isn’t happening ever again. It probably won’t ever happen again, and you need to accept that.”
Mike beamed. “It probably won’t ever happen again? Is that what you just said? I’m already late for work. Going in a little later won’t matter much. I mean, only if you really want to.”
I shook my head side to side. Nooooo, Mike. Then I looked at him when he stood up from the table. He still hadn’t been bothered to put anything on, not even his undies. Damn the bloody ache and tingles. I was so over it.
“For fuck’s sake, Mike! You can be so exasperating! I stood up, letting the bath towel fall to the floor.
“You know we shouldn’t be doing this,” I said over my shoulder as Mike followed me back to the bedroom. “We’re completely sober.”
Twenty-Four
We had stayed in bed until noon. There had been no sleeping. Afterward, Mike had showered and dressed for work in the same clothes he’d worn the day before. I supposed he was a confident enough guy to take the walk of shame without feeling embarrassed. Once I felt capable of walking without fearing I’d collapse and bash my head against something, I got out of bed and took a hot shower. The entire time I wrestled with self-incrimination. Sleeping with Mike again last night, not even mentioning the shagfest this morning I’d happily and greedily took part in, hadn’t been my finest hour. I had no clue what to do for an encore.
After I’d dressed and had lunch, I took a taxi to the office. There wasn’t any work for me there, exactly, but I had to go there to retrieve my motorbike if nothing else. I went inside to pick up messages from the office machine. There were two from Nick from the previous afternoon. Being in a state of total confusion after what had happened with Mike, I was in no condition to know what to do about Nick. I’d ring him back later once I’d had time to have a think.
Funny enough, Mike and I had never got around to sussing out a plan for dealing with Chambers and Bryce. Hadn’t that been the whole point of us getting together last night? Guess our priorities had lain elsewhere. I felt like I’d been had. Nope, I couldn’t lie to myself. I hadn’t been had. I now vividly recalled the details of how we’d ended up in my bed naked together. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but it forced me to admit I had wanted it every bit as much as Mike. I’d been a willing and eager participant in it all. My lustful yearnings for Nick had only grown last night at the police station because of Mike. Then Mike had fanned those flames of my desire into an inferno I had to quench after we got to my place. As sad as it was to admit, I’d become so desperate to have my libidinous needs sated, I hadn’t given a toss who satisfied them.
Christ, I was already dreading my Tuesday appointment with Dr. Nix. I couldn’t very well continue to insist I wasn’t a tart, could I? Not after shagging two different guys, one of them an ex-partner, since I’d seen Nix last. I might as well have the word “strumpet” tattooed on my forehead and have done with it.
Desperate to focus my tortured mind on something else, anything else, I had a thought. It was even work-related for a change. Perhaps I should go around to Austin Bryce’s house for a chat. At least it would temporarily divert my mind from my latest moral failure. Besides, I was still keen to help Ken Lawrence prove his innocence and clear his name. I couldn’t imagine what it might have been like to spend nine years in prison for a crime I’d not committed. The justice system didn’t always get it right. I knew it would be a waste of time returning to Chambers’ house, but I might get lucky enough to learn something from Bryce if I could persuade him to talk.
I pulled up the site on my computer I subscribed to and entered Austin Bryce’s name. I had to estimate his age and other details, but after a while found his driver’s license information which provided his address. Bryce lived in Kahala, a small and very upscale neighborhood on Oahu’s southern shore, near to Diamond Head crater. It wasn’t far from my house, actual
ly. But unlike my house, the two-story houses I’d seen in Kahala were some of the priciest real estate on the island.
It took only about fifteen minutes for me to get to Bryce’s house on Makaiwa Street from the office. His house turned out to be an older, ranch-style home off the beach, though I knew it was still plenty expensive.
Bryce himself answered the door when I pressed the doorbell.
“Whatever you’re selling young lady, I’m not interested,” Bryce said curtly.
What a charmer.
“I’m not selling anything, Mr. Bryce,” I said. “I’m T. J. O’Sullivan, a private investigator.”
I held up my identification card.
“We met at Brandi Camargo’s shop several days ago. Can we have a word?”
Bryce peered at me for a moment, then he snorted. “I remember you. You’re the ill-mannered young woman who threatened to assault me.”
“If you recall, you were at the time destroying Ms. Camargo’s shop with a walking cane like a mad thing,” I said.
“I can’t imagine having a conversation with a private detective would be of any more interest than speaking with a door-to-door peddler,” Bryce said.
Bryce tried to close the door in my face. I stuck my Magnum tactical booted foot between the door and frame.
Bryce swung the door back open. “Please remove your foot from my doorway, young lady,” he said. “I have nothing to say to you.”
“But, I really need to talk with you,” I said.
“About what? I can’t imagine anything you have to say would be of the smallest interest.”
“Tiger Ying and a museum fire in San Francisco many years ago, for starters,” I said.
“Our conversation is at an end, goodbye,” Bryce said.
I pulled my foot back just in time before Bryce properly slammed the door in my face.
Bloody marvelous. What a brilliant idea coming here. I turned to walk back to where I’d parked the motorbike. A cargo van rolled up, stopping at the curb in front of Bryce’s house. I watched as the driver, wearing a khaki shirt and shorts got out and unloaded a wheelie cart from the back. He started up the footpath, stopping when he reached me.
