For Better or Hearse

by Ann Yost

  “Tell me your names or I’ll blow your boyfriend’s face off.”

  Daisy’s response was prompt.

  “We came all the way from Michigan to speak to Spuds Langston. And he isn’t my boyfriend. He used to date my sister.”

  Nick gritted his teeth.

  “Ain’t nobody ’sposed ta be here.”

  “Are you the caretaker? Does Mister Langston pay you to watch the place?”

  The boy turned to Nick. “Can’t you make her shut up?”

  Another eighteen inches. Maybe twenty.

  “Probably not.”

  “I take it you like Snoop Dogg,” Daisy said.

  “Shut up!” The boy sounded desperate. “Tell me your names or I’ll shoot.” He swiveled and stepped back, the gun firmly trained on Nick’s chest. Well, hell.

  Daisy’s shriek could have shattered glass. “Officer!”

  The gunman slammed his hands against his ears and Nick saw his opening. He grabbed the kid’s wrist but he was too late. Daisy’s huge straw purse exploded against Snoop’s face. The boy cried out in pain and rage and squeezed off a shot.

  An instant later he screamed in pain, dropped to the floor and clutched his thigh. The gun skittered across the uncarpeted floor.

  “She made me shoot myself,” the boy howled. “Goddamn bitch!”

  “Nick! Call 9-1-1!” Daisy stripped off her jacket, dropped to the floor and pressed the fabric against a geyser of blood. The bullet had hit an artery.

  “I’m sorry,” Daisy told the victim, “I didn’t intend for you to get hurt but it’s a good lesson in gun safety.”

  Nick called emergency. Blood seeped from the wound despite the pressure. He ripped off his gray T-shirt.

  “Go down and meet the ambulance. I’ll take care of this.”

  Snoop writhed on the floor, alternately cursing Daisy and moaning. His cries escalated when Nick tightened the tourniquet on his leg. The gray fabric turned red but more slowly. Nick knew Daisy wouldn’t approve of his tactics. He waited until she was out of earshot before he spoke.

  “Shut up and listen to me. I want a name. Who paid you to protect this office?”

  The boy’s filled with tears. “Am I gonna die?”

  “No. Did Langston pay you to hang around here?”

  The dark lashes rested against the smooth, sweat-streaked cheekbones. God, the kid was young.

  “Yeah. Mister, you gotta call my mom.”

  “I will. What did he want you to do?”

  “Huh? What?”

  Any minute now the kid would go into shock. Nick tightened the makeshift bandage to keep him conscious. “What’s your mom’s name? Where is she?”

  The kid provided the information.

  “All right. Langston. What’d he pay you for?”

  “Gave me a phone. Told me to get names from anybody who showed up. Nobody came though till you and the redhead.”

  Snoop’s voice faded but Nick heard the approaching siren. Thank God they were in a high crime district. “Give me the phone.”

  “No.”

  “I’ll pay you for it.” With one hand he grabbed some bills from his wallet and slipped them into Snoop’s pocket where he found the phone.

  “Tell Mom I’m sorry I skipped class.”

  “Where d’you go to school?”

  He didn’t need the information. He just wanted to keep the kid conscious.

  “Thurston Middle.”

  He continued to hemorrhage, his face ashen. Shit.

  The boy passed out as the EMTs pushed in the door. Nick filled them in on the situation while they worked. One technician slid an oxygen mask on the kid and the other started an I.V. He was on a stretcher and into an ambulance in record time.

  “Where’re you taking him,” Nick heard Daisy ask the driver.

  “Chicago Memorial. Cop’ll want to talk to you.”

  Double shit.

  “Give him some money,” Daisy ordered.

  The kid had threatened them with a gun and she wanted to subsidize his summer?

  “Taken care of,” he said, in a low voice. He gripped her upper arm and piloted her outside and over to a young cop.

  “Listen, Officer, my wife’s sick. Let me get her home. I’ll meet you back at the station.”

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  Nick sized him up. Young, handsome, shiny wedding ring. “Morning sickness.”

  “Oh.” Understanding dawned in the officer’s eyes. “Sure. It’s the station at Twelfth and Gatley.” He tipped his hat. “Hope you feel better, ma’am.”

  “She will,” Nick replied. “In nine months.”

  “Your names?”

  “Brad and Kathy Naylor,” Nick said. He stuffed Daisy into the passenger side of the Jeep. “Thanks, Officer. Kathy likes to barf in peace.”

  ****

  Nick drove to the nearest corner, turned and turned again.

  “We’ve got to contact that young man’s mother.”

  “As soon as we get some distance from the cops.”

  “Brad and Kathy Naylor?”

  “My neighbors in L.A.”

  “Are they nice people?”

  “I don’t know, Daisy. I saw their name on the mailbox.”

  “Oh.”

  He drove to the edge of town and turned into the driveway of a Holiday Inn Express.

  “They have a complimentary breakfast,” she said. He shot her a look and she made a face. “Not that it will matter to us. We can leave as soon as we make sure the boy’s all right.”

  “Go in and register. Please.”

  Squirrels raced up and down her spine. Register? As in spend the night?

  “I can’t go anywhere without a shower and clean clothes.”

  Her eyes dropped to his chest. His breathing caused his muscles to lift and flex. It was mesmerizing.

  “Daisy.”

  “Just admiring the view.”

  The gray eyes widened and glittered. What on earth was she doing? This was no time to embark on a passionate one-night stand. Except it was the perfect time. She swallowed hard.

  His eyes narrowed, suddenly. “Do you have any idea,” he said, through gritted teeth, “how close you came to getting shot?”

  “He pointed the gun at you. He would have shot you.”

  “He wouldn’t have shot anybody. I had the situation under control.”

  “How could I know that? You’re a race car driver not James Bond.” Suddenly she remembered the skeleton keys. “Or have you done this before?”

  A guilty expression crossed his face and disappeared.

  “I’m a guy. You should’ve known I’d protect you.”

  She crossed her arms across her chest. “That sounds macho but that hasn’t been my experience. The men in our lives haven’t protected us at all.”

  “You and your sisters.”

  She nodded. “I’ve gotten used to protecting them. You should have trusted me to take care of you.”

  “I’ll let you take care of me, baby. Later.”

  The sudden drop in his voice, the huskiness sent her senses spinning. Was he talking about sex? Was this really going to happen?

  “Daisy?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Can you run over to that store and get me some clothes?”

  “Okay.”

  “Check in first, okay?” He gestured to his blood-streaked jeans. “I look like something out of SAW IV. The desk clerk would call the cops.”

  She grinned at him.

  “Maybe they’d send Officer Morning Sickness.”

  ****

  He knew he shouldn’t take her to bed tonight.

  He knew he’d never make it until tonight.

  Damn. Was it the danger-fueled adrenaline? He didn’t think so. He’d wanted her from the first, back when it made no sense. Back when he’d considered her not his type.

  She wasn’t any type at all. She was unique. Optimistic. Unpredictable. He watched the red water run into the drain. The cold
spray was effective on the bloodstains but it had zero effect on his arousal.

  He got out and dried off, ruefully aware the terrycloth around his waist did nothing to hide his excitement. She was laying out his clothing on the bed. The vision made him even harder.

  She turned and sucked in her breath when she saw him.

  “I hope these fit,” she said, finally.

  He had no intention of finding out anytime soon.

  Her voice fell to a whisper. “I need a shower, too.”

  He counted to sixty by tens before he joined her.

  Chapter Twelve

  The cool water felt good on her hot skin. Was she doing the right thing? She’d waited a long time for the right guy without even realizing it. Nick was Mr. Right for her. Daisy knew that, for him, she was Ms. Right Now, but at the moment, that seemed good enough. She wanted him and she knew, in the very depths of her heart, she would never forgive herself if she gave up this chance to have him. No matter how much it would hurt later.

  And it would hurt a lot. Nick Bowman wasn’t marriage material—not for Daisy Budd. But a one-night stand? Why not? Everybody did it. Some people, like Debbie Popple, did it frequently.

  She leaned against the tile of the shower stall and closed her eyes so she didn’t see him come in and, for once, she didn’t smell him, either. When he pulled back the curtain and stepped into her space, her heart exploded.

  Nick rested his palms against the wall on either side of her. She was surrounded by his impossible masculinity. His eyes framed by black, wet lashes were very gray and focused. She couldn’t get any air in her lungs as she watched his lips lower to hers and then it didn’t matter because she was breathing him.

  After a few seconds she broke the kiss.

  “Daisy?”

  “Oxygen,” she squeaked. “I need oxygen.”

  His slow, sensuous smile melted what was left of her insides. He cupped the back of her head and she felt the strength of his fingers in her hair.

  “Trust me. I can provide everything you need.”

  He took her mouth again and she circled his waist with her arms and slid her palms up the firm, well-defined muscles of his back. Without much experience she didn’t know what she was supposed to do but she knew she wanted to get as close to him as possible. She wanted to feel every inch of him. Her fingers glanced over a few ridged scars and, in one spot a patch of too-smooth skin. A burn. From a car accident? Her heart stuttered but there was no time to focus on pain from the past.

  There was too much pleasure in the present.

  She was sandwiched between the tiles at her back and his hard chest. He ground himself against her and she gasped at the hot breath on her neck and the rough sounds in her ear. She slid a hand down his flat abdomen and found the incontrovertible proof of his desire.

  “God,” they breathed, simultaneously.

  “Jinx,” she whispered, automatically. He clearly didn’t want to play.

  “Baby, your hand feels so good.” He kissed her hard and deep. After a moment he lifted his head then licked the shower water off the hollow at the base of her neck and the top of one breast. She gasped.

  His wicked tongue moved lower until he finally closed his lips around one hard-tipped nipple. At the same time he used his thumb and forefinger to caress the other breast. The sensation triggered explosions of desire through her entire body. She writhed against the tiles and clenched her fists. He cursed and retrieved her hand.

  “Too much too soon, baby. I want this to last.”

  And then his big hand smoothed down her midriff and over her stomach until it reached the super sensitive spot between her legs. She marveled at how easily he’d found it and, just for an instant, she thought of the dozens of other women in his life. And then he slid a finger inside her she couldn’t think at all.

  “You’re soaking wet.”

  Wet and throbbing. He stroked her harder and faster. She felt something coil inside her until it was so tight she thought she’d burst.

  “Please,” she whimpered. She twisted against him. “Please.”

  “It’s okay, baby. I’ll take care of it. I know what I’m doing.”

  She believed him. She threw back her head and hit the tiles.

  “Ow!”

  “Damn.” He cupped her buttocks in his strong hands and lifted her. “Put your legs around my waist, honey. I can’t wait.”

  She felt the sharp thrust, the overfull sensation and the tightness but his skillful stroking diverted her. The tension became almost unbearable and she held her breath.

  “Breathe, Daisy,” he murmured. “I don’t want you to pass out until after you come.”

  Her orgasm hit like a meteor out of the sky. She shrieked and dug her nails into his shoulders. From a distance, she felt him stiffen as he gripped her buttocks and groaned into her neck. They rode the storm together and finished with her body still pinned against the wall, her legs around his hips and his head on her breast. Tender feelings flooded her as she listened to the snare drum beat of his heart and stroked his back as he gulped for air.

  “That almost killed me.”

  “Is that a complaint?”

  “God, no. I don’t know about sex in a bathtub but it sure as hell works in a shower stall.”

  Sex. She was glad he’d used the word. She needed to remind herself this was a one-night stand. Tenderness did not belong here, just raw animal sex.

  That was enough.

  ****

  The magnificent afterglow was extinguished by guilt.

  What the hell had he done?

  The first time shouldn’t be in a motel shower. Not for a woman like Daisy. He’d probably bruised her spine on the unforgiving tiles and he hadn’t even bothered to ask whether she was protected.

  His stomach heaved. He’d been religious about birth control with all those women who were on the pill. He prayed Daisy was in that number but figured it was unlikely. Her passion was infinitely exciting but new and raw. He recalled the tight inner muscles and the way they’d milked him. His blood rushed south. Hell. He could take her again right now. He pressed himself against her and suppressed a groan. He couldn’t. He’d already tied a noose around his neck and hers.

  The least he could do was not tighten it.

  Her hand found him and he shuddered.

  “Nick?”

  He fought the urge to plunge into her welcoming body.

  “Daisy, is there any chance you’re on the pill?”

  ****

  She grimaced. If she forgot this was a casual affair he’d be sure to remind her. He waited for an answer and she felt the shift in his tension. He was more than turned on. He was worried.

  “Yes. There’s an excellent chance.”

  It was the most bald-faced lie she could remember but she didn’t regret it. The pride that had been sadly missing in the shower kicked in. She had no intention of trapping him in a loveless marriage.

  He must have sensed her withdrawal because he took her hand and led her out of the shower, grabbed a towel and dried her off in a business-like way.

  “I shouldn’t have been so blunt,” he said. “I’ve never failed to use birth control but you had me forgetting my own name. I had to make sure. You’ll make a wonderful mother, someday, Daisy, but I don’t want a family.”

  She nodded. “You won’t get one from me.”

  Relief filled the gray eyes. She bit back tears and forced a smile.

  He slid his hand inside the towel and found the magic spot between her legs. She could see his arousal, hard and heavy.

  “In that case, how about round two?”

  She met his eyes while she stroked him. He made a sound and scooped her up. An instant later she was on her back. He came up over her and she welcomed him.

  She’d turned into an idiot.

  It was dark when she awoke. She turned to look at him. His hands were stacked under his head.

  “Want to get some food?”

  He turned toward her.
“Was Happily Ever After Caroline’s dream, too?”

  Needle pricks of guilt and pain attacked her. Caro. Daisy could imagine her elder sister’s reaction to this. “It was the right solution for all of us.”

  “That isn’t what I asked.”

  She swallowed around a lump in her throat. She didn’t want to talk about Caroline. Not now. Not here.

  “Did she ever want to work for a design house in Chicago or New York?”

  “That wouldn’t work for Stevie.”

  “People raise children in cities.”

  “It’s hard to do it alone. In Mayville she has Junie and me. And Quentin.”

  “He seems to have limited interest in his kid.”

  Daisy didn’t want to talk about Quentin or Stevie, either.

  “Junie’s a free spirit,” he went on. “Is she bored in Mayville?”

  “Of course not. She’s got friends and work. What else is there?”

  “Fulfillment. Independence. Adventure.”

  The words hurt because there was truth in them. “No one is completely free, Nick.”

  “I am.”

  She wanted to remind him that he’d come home in answer to Theo’s summons. She wanted to point out that in L.A. he might be free but he was alone. But he wouldn’t want to hear any of that and it wasn’t her business, anyway.

  “Junie needs to grow up before she leaves home.”

  “Maybe she can’t until she’s allowed to make her own decisions, her own mistakes.”

  He found her hand and laced his fingers through it.

  “I know you’ve provided them with stability and love, Daisy, but at some point, you have to let go.”

  She shook her head. She’d tried letting go. It hadn’t worked. She refused to try to explain that to the anti-family man. She rolled to her feet and realized she was naked and cold. He moved with incredible speed and she was pulled into his heat.

  “I don’t want to make you sad, honey. Sometimes an outsider can see more than those on the inside.”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him whether he always psychoanalyzed his one-night stands. Instead she focused on how he’d characterized himself.

  An outsider.

  Not a surprise. Theo had not only kicked him out of the family seven years earlier, he’d assured Nick he could never belong. He had no reason to cherish family or trust it. Nick Bowman had decided to live life as an island. The thought made her sad.