The sex was more than good, and the laughter was cathartic after a day of death, but now the guilt had begun to take its toll.
After it was all said and done, there wasn’t a word spoken between them. He’d fallen asleep, and she was lying on her side and staring at the wall.
Two things were certain.
This had been a huge mistake, and she’d slept with the wrong man.
* * *
Friday Morning
Greyson Croft was a light sleeper, unless the night was filled with copious amounts of sex. After round two, they fell asleep, and he’d been awoken hours later by wandering lips. What was a man to do?
He gave her what she wanted and enjoyed every damn second of it himself. That was one of the perks of having a wife. The sex was always there, no matter the time of day. Thank God for that!
Now, he was slowly pulling away from sleep, and he swore that he could smell bacon. His brain tried to rationalize that, since it couldn’t be happening. Not in his marriage. Real dead pig was like a mistress. If he got caught with his hands on its porky goodness, there’d be hell to pay.
Sitting up, he glanced around. Their clothes were picked up, and he definitely could smell something out of the ordinary from the other room.
Once out of bed, he found his wife sitting on the couch in the other part of the suite with a table set for breakfast.
“I ordered room service,” she stated, enjoying the look of surprise on his face.
He wandered in and sniffed the air appreciatively. “I smell bacon. How is that possible?”
Emma grinned and lifted the silver dome off the top of his plate to show him what was waiting for him. There was an omelet, bacon, and buttered toast.
Staring at her, he was waiting for the trap to be sprung. “Okay, what did you do? Are you divorcing me after all? Is this breakup comfort food?”
She began laughing. “I thought we should make this a tradition. When we stay in a hotel, you get to eat what you want. You can stop looking panicked. It’s real bacon and butter. I swear there’s no trick.”
His brain and stomach were getting excited. Reaching down, he pulled his wife up and into his arms. “I have never loved you more than I do right now,” he replied as he grinned mischievously. “If I wasn’t married to you, this would have made me propose.”
Emma kissed him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. After the truly spectacular sex, she figured the man deserved it. Last night, he attempted to heal Emma’s wounds, and this morning it was her turn. After all, she did lie to him and damage his heart too.
“We better eat. There’s work today,” she stated, pulling him back down to the couch.
There was no way in hell he was going to say no to breakfast with his woman. As he cut into his omelet, he took a bite. “Oh God! It’s real cheese.”
She began laughing as she poured him coffee. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Remember this moment when you get the credit card bill for that twenty seven dollar pig.”
He didn't care. He’d pay a small fortune for real bacon and cheese. Croft was a desperate man, indeed. “Put it on my desk. I won’t even flinch when I sign the check.”
She pulled the dome off her breakfast, revealing fluffy waffles. When he stared at them, she laughed more. “You can have some. You know I won’t finish them.”
In his mind, there was one thing confirmed. There was a God. Not only did he get his wife back, have a night full of sex, and was given forbidden foods, but there was promise of her breakfast too.
Gone was portion control and green grass shakes.
This was Croft heaven.
“I love you,” he muttered.
Emma glanced over at him. “I love you too.” Then, she realized he was talking to his breakfast and not her. “You’re out of control.” The grin on his face took her breath away. He was smiling like a kid who found a hidden stash of candy.
If this made him happy, she’d surprise him more often just to see the look on his face. It was worth it. Maybe she was a bit over the edge with the food control and needed to back off.
As he bit into the toast, he’d found breakfast nirvana. “I am the luckiest man in the world.”
“Are you talking to me now or the butter?”
Croft leaned over to kiss his wife. “That was directed at you.” When she didn't protest the kiss, even when he surely had bacon breath, he lifted a brow. “Okay, what gives? You let me make out with you after eating meat.”
She went serious. “I’m sorry I lied to you and hurt your feelings, Grey.”
His heart went all mushy. Here was his woman trying to heal him, even after he’d committed the far bigger sin. “Thank you, Emma.”
Delicately, she ran her finger down the scar on his cheek. The man was the world to her. “I’ll try and never do it again, but I can’t promise I won’t.”
This time, he understood. His woman would lie to protect them both, and that kind of falsehood he could accept. When he wasn’t rational, she would be.
What more could he ask?
“Deal.”
Emma leaned over, kissing him again. “That was easy. I was expecting to have to bargain for it.”
Croft ate more eggs as he was so damn happy to have real food again. “We were both wrong. I just went way off the deep end. I wish I could say it won’t happen again, but I’d be lying. Something about my wife makes me territorial, possessive, and crazy.”
“You didn't just blame me for your behavior did you?” she asked as she dipped a big piece of waffle into warm syrup and whipped cream. When she held it out to him, he looked like a he was in heaven.
He immediately accepted it and leaned back and enjoyed the sugary bliss. “I can’t focus now. I’m in the midst of big time food porn.”
Emma shook her head. “Want to talk about today’s plans as you stuff yourself to capacity?”
There was some response, but it was mumbled around a mouthful of egg and pig.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, giggling. Switching gears, she started talking death. It was probably a good thing they both didn't mind discussing work over eating. It seemed they did it often. “I want Curtis to contact Mason Productions and get us an appointment to see the man in charge.”
He nodded, stealing some of her waffle. “We can have him do that. I agree with needing to meet him. Three women who are his employees have turned up dead. That’s not a coincidence. He seems to be the center of this, and now we need to figure out how.”
“Agreed. When he’s done with that, we need him to run a background check on Harrison Tyler. I know that he admitted that the theater is in the red, but I want to see how dire the situation really is,” Emma said, handing him her plate. “You’re eating a salad for lunch, so be warned.”
Croft grinned. “If you let me eat real food for breakfast, I will consume roughage every day for the rest of my life.”
Emma shook her head. “We’ll negotiate that one another time.” Back on topic, she thought about the man who owned the theater. “When we interviewed Harrison, he came across as dramatic.”
That had his attention. “You mean like remove ears and stitch a mouth closed dramatic?”
After sharing the information about the scene when they rolled up, she could tell he was thinking the same thing she’d been too. “It all seemed too set up. Here we have three showgirls in a dramatic profession that were killed and placed in varying locations. The first body wasn’t near the theater, but the second two were. Why?”
He thought about it as he continued eating. “That area has to mean something, along with the bodies being mutilated.”
“When is the profile due back in?” she asked, really wanting the professional opinion of someone who hung out in the head of nut jobs. She was good at figuring things out, but the psychology of the killer wasn’t her thing.
“As soon as we leave, I’ll text my profiler. I’ll get it to you by this afternoon at the latest. She’s excellent and probably has it done already.�
��
“I appreciate that. You and I are talking to the psychiatrist this morning. I called yesterday and made an appointment. Apparently, she handles everything from couples counseling to eating disorders.”
“So, we’re going to pretend we need counseling?” he asked, his body tightening with tension.
Emma could feel it from her spot beside him on the loveseat. “No, I didn't say it was a couple issue. I told the secretary you were addicted to internet porn.”
He began choking on his food.
She slapped him on the back as she began laughing hysterically.
“Emma!”
The way he said her name entertained her. “Well, you did find that position you were more than happy to try out last night online. Who knows what else you’re looking at when I’m not paying attention.”
He stared openmouthed that she might actually believe he was trolling the internet for porn when he had a condo full of sexiness at home.
“Would you have preferred I told them impotence?”
He began laughing, knowing that was the furthest from the truth. “Keep it up, and we’ll be late for that appointment,” he threatened, winking at her. “I’ll have to school my younger wife.”
“I didn't think she’d see us if we just walked in, so I had to make something up,” she answered smiling.
“You could have told her you were addicted to sex, like our last victim. It’s closer to the truth.”
She was ready for his comment. “Really? You want your wife cured of that ailment?”
He thought about it. “No, I’m an internet pervert. Let’s go with that. You were absolutely right. I don’t need my nympho deprogrammed. I’m quite happy with your affliction.”
They both began laughing. It was obvious they’d fixed what had broken them. The easiness between them was back.
Then there was guilt. “I feel bad sticking my partner with Curtis all morning, especially since they’re having issues.”
Croft shrugged. “He didn't look miserable last night when he came back to the condo. In fact, he helped me find you, so maybe they worked it out.”
“Did he now?”
“Yeah, I couldn’t think straight. I was sitting on our kitchen floor wondering what to do next. When I thought I’d lost you, everything in me died.”
When he placed his left hand on her cheek, Emma turned her face into his palm and kissed their wedding ring.
His heart pounded at the gesture. “I love you.”
There was no doubt in her mind she was feeling the exact same way about him. “I love you too, but we need to hurry. Don’t forget to call your partner and give him the searches. We don’t need him sitting around bored.” Standing, she began to clean up her mess and when he didn't move, Emma glanced over. “What?”
“I changed my mind. I do feel bad for Curtis,” he admitted.
Emma didn't know where this was headed. “Why?
He picked up the last strip of crispy bacon. “Because he’s at our place eating soy, and I get the real deal.”
She laughed. “Who are you kidding? He ordered a pizza, and then probably peeked in my underwear drawer.”
Greyson stared at her. “I hope you’re kidding.”
Emma was amused. “If you were left alone in a luxury condo at his age, wouldn’t you?”
He pictured the man rifling through Emma’s lacy underthings and his blood pressure spiked.
“I’m going to kill him.”
~ Chapter Ten ~
Friday Morning
Waking up in the big condominium was interesting. He’d always had a small apartment, because he was a lowly paid federal employee. Now that he knew if he worked hard and stayed diligent that he could one day have a place like this, it gave him motivation to kick ass and take names.
Let’s face it. Greyson Croft was his idol.
He had the power job, the sexy wife, and the great pad. When he grew up, he wanted to be him.
Wandering around the place, it took everything in him to not snoop. Part of him wanted to look around, because he was curious by nature. The other half of him wanted to respect the people who were letting him stay in their home, like he belonged.
Curtis was short on family, so he opted to not break the rules.
Well, not many of them at least.
As he was sitting there last night, he had gotten hungry, and ordered a pizza. Emma had a rule about meat in the condominium, but he’d broken it. Now, he only hoped the entire place didn't smell like pepperoni. Why torment Greyson when he wasn’t allowed to partake in the fatty goodness? There was a little piece of him that was envious of Emma’s protectiveness. Deep down, Curtis wished he had a woman who cared enough to make him eat better, get more exercise, and live a long life.
Greyson Croft was a lucky SOB, if he was able to fix his mess. When he didn't return last night, Curtis took that as a sign. Knowing Emma, she’d forgiven him. The man was snacking on far tastier things than a pizza in that hotel.
Just as he’d been cleaning up, his phone began beeping. Picking it up, he read his morning assignments. It appeared he and Detective Westmore were on desk duty to track down information that Emma needed. From the easygoing nature of the texts, he knew he’d been right.
Croft had fixed the situation and got the girl back.
That meant a good day all around for everyone. There was even a text about meeting for lunch at noon at the place they ate the other day. As it looked, it was going to be a pretty terrific morning.
Driving into work, he actually had the chance to look around and take in some of the sights. In the back of his mind, he was thinking about all the possible places to take Brynn on their date.
Who was he kidding? He wasn’t thinking about the date, he was dwelling on the possible sex that they would have afterwards. He had ‘Detective Westmore on the brain’, and until he got it out of his system, it wasn’t looking good for his concentration.
There was just something about the brunette that got him all hot and bothered. Maybe it was her blue eyes, or possibly the chocolate brown hair that looked incredibly silky. No, it was her body.
Why pretend?
His mid-twenties libido was in overdrive for an older woman. Okay, she wasn’t that much older. If anything, the woman was only thirty, but still. Something about the idea of bagging an older, more experienced babe had him all stirred up.
Pulling into the parking lot, he gave his body a minute to calm down as he thought about all the things that wouldn’t get him horny like a teenage boy.
Nuns.
Butch looking gym teachers.
Prostitutes with STD’s.
Okay, that was so much better. That took care of that problem and nipped it in the bud. From the confines of the Denali’s tinted windows, he could see Detective Westmore walking across the parking lot. She looked out of sorts as she dropped her keys, and then her notebook.
Something was bothering her.
Then, out of the blue, the possibility that she was thinking about him popped into his hormone ridden brain. It brightened his day even more, at the prospect she was equally as discombobulated over him.
The morning was getting better and better.
Sliding from the vehicle, he began his walk across the parking lot to her side. When he touched her arm, she actually jumped.
“Hey! I’m sorry! I didn't mean to startle you,” he reassured, seeing the flash of something across her face, before she buried it deep. “Are you okay?”
Oh hell! This was the last person she wanted to see in her hung over state. In fact, she was hoping to hide from Curtis all day. Brynn was still praying that word didn't travel back that she’d slept with Max Pauley.
Somehow, she didn't think he’d be pleased. Not that she was either. It wasn’t the best moment of her life, especially since she was thinking about the man beside her as she was in the throes of sex with the lab tech.
How wrong was it that she got off with one man, only to be fantasizing about
another? The irony was she could have just had sex with Curtis in the first place, or not had it at all.
Yeah, now, her brain was in control. Great timing!
“I’m good. I’m just a little distracted today,” she answered, pushing her glasses up. Normally, she’d wear contacts, but her eyes were burning from very little sleep, the smoky bar, and the back to back shots.
“If you say so, Brynn,” he continued, “The bosses sent us the assignments for this morning. We’re to dig out as much information on Harrison Tyler and bring the profile with us when we head out to meet them.”
Brynn nodded. “Then let’s get to work.”
Holding the precinct door for her, he couldn’t help but notice something was off. At some point that morning, they were going to have a discussion. What sat between them was making work incredibly difficult, and it needed to be rectified.
“Can we head to lunch a little early? You and I need to talk,” he asked, glancing over at her.
The nerves were there. “Sure. We can do that.” Oh crap! The shit was going to hit the fan later. Hopefully by then, she’d be over the hangover. Never again would she do a one-night stand, ‘zombie nights’, or not listen to her inner voice. It had been absolutely right.
Today was going to be hell.
* * *
Greyson and Emma sat in the waiting room of the psychiatrist’s office, watching everyone around them. There were a few other clients there, who were flipping through office magazines.
The idea of coming to a shrink to spill your secrets appalled Croft. He’d rather suffer in silence than tell someone he was binge eating because his mommy didn't love him enough. The idea made him snicker, and apparently, it was out loud.
Emma elbowed him. “Knock it off. You’re being bold,” she scolded, earning a kiss on the cheek. When he began whispering dirty things, she too was fighting to not giggle.
“Now, you know how I felt when you told the secretary I was addicted to internet porn.”
Leaning over, she quietly replied, “Don’t make me tell her it’s gay porn.”
Vegas is Dying (A Croft & Croft Romance Adventure Book 2) Page 24
