Perfectly Toxic

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Perfectly Toxic Page 7

by Kristine Mason


  “Perfect. That answers all of my questions. Now I know why you’re making sure you look hot and are driving at five miles an hour.”

  “He’s a repo man,” she added.

  “Are lipstick and big hair a requirement when meeting a repo man? If so, I’d better wait in the car.”

  She grinned. “That’d be a no.”

  “Unless you’ve dated the guy and want him to see what he’s missing?”

  She glanced at him before pulling into the driveway.

  “I’m right?” Harrison asked. “Now I definitely have to meet this guy. Anyone who can handle the Ice Cream Lady—”

  “We’re not together, so don’t go admiring him for what he can’t handle.” She threw the car into PARK. “And as far as Cash knows, all I do is work at the ice cream shop. Don’t you dare mention a word about ATL or my garage.”

  “He doesn’t know you chop cars and boats?”

  “He doesn’t think I do it anymore and I want to keep it that way.”

  “Why?”

  “Because,” she said, opened the door, then slid from the car.

  “Awesome explanation. I really appreciate how open you’ve been with me.” Harrison met her at the front of the car. “Is there anything else I should know about your repo man?”

  “Just don’t stare at my behind. Cash can get a little jealous,” she said, remembering the time Cash had broken a guy’s nose for looking at her butt. That’d been before the accident and she and Cash had been in a bad place. Too much partying, arguing, accusing each other of messing around. The fights, the make-up sex—looking back, she missed those days. The passion, the excitement, the dangers of the repo business. In a way, Cash’s accident had saved her from the self-destructive life she’d been leading with him. But she was in a better place now.

  Alone.

  “Maybe I should wait in the car,” Harrison suggested.

  “C’mon, honey.” She forced a smile. “You’re a badass secret agent. Don’t let a repo man bother you.”

  “Anyone who does a job like that is crazy,” he said as he fell in step with her. “Crazy trumps badass, and I don’t even carry a gun.”

  Harrison couldn’t carry a weapon due to his felony. The computer geek would freak if he knew Cash had been part of the Explosive Ordinance Disposal unit while in Iraq. That was crazier than taking someone’s car away from them for not making payments to the bank.

  “Oh, stop. We won’t be here long. Cash knows where to look for Bobby.” She could have driven straight to Frenchtown, where Ross had said Bobby was last seen with Quinell Willis, but she didn’t want to go there without Cash. He’d grown up not far from the area, knew the people and who to go to for answers.

  When they reached the front door, she touched the faded, sun-bleached wreath she’d made over two years ago. Nostalgia settled over her heart. Although Cash had still been recovering from his injuries, those days had been happy ones. He hadn’t been able to repo.

  Betrayal and frustration gave nostalgia the boot. Dang it. They could have been good together. She knocked on the door. Instead, they were living separate lives because she wasn’t enough. Not enough excitement, not enough of a challenge. His accident had taught her that she didn’t need those things anymore. Then again, she had signed on to ATL and did still chop the occasional car or boat. Oh, God. There was also those bodies she’d disposed of in her daddy’s swamp.

  The door opened and Harrison took an immediate step back. Cash’s large body filled the threshold. His t-shirt clung to his arms and chest, revealing the muscles she loved to hang onto when she rode him. Her heart beat hard as she shifted her gaze from his chest to his mouth. How she’d love to shove him against the door and kiss that arrogant, overconfident smile off his lips.

  “How are ya’, babe?” Cash asked, his tone rough, sexy.

  She met his gaze. His dark-brown eyes held hunger, lust and smugness. During their two-year separation, they’d found excuses to see each other. Then they’d have a long weekend of hot sex. Cash was in for a rude awakening. Just because he knew how to make her moan didn’t mean he’d be getting any action during this visit.

  He took a step forward and crowded her space. She inhaled his cologne as he slid a finger along her jawline until he reached her chin. “I’ve missed you.” He leaned forward, brought their mouths so close together his warm breath brushed her lips.

  God, how she ached for him. If only he loved her enough. The reminder stung and bolstered the promise she’d made to herself: no sex, discuss making their separation permanent.

  “Don’t touch me,” she murmured. “I have my period.”

  His lips, still too tempting and close to hers, slid into a big smile as Harrison released a groan from behind her. Cash’s eyes narrowed. No longer smiling, he looked over her head. “Who’s he?”

  “Harrison Fairclough. He’s here to help me.”

  “Tell him to go home. I’m all you need.”

  She gave his hard chest a shove, but he didn’t budge or take his gaze off Harrison. “You’re so full of yourself. I don’t need anything from you I can’t get somewhere else.”

  White-hot jealousy tensed his entire body. Cash looked down at Melanie—his woman—and gave her a menacing look that would intimidate most men. “Are you?” he managed, when he wanted to move her aside and kick the dick behind her off their property.

  “Am I what?” she asked, her blue eyes wide and innocent. But he knew that look, knew she was fucking with him, and that Melanie Scarlet was far from innocent. She was sex personified. She was his late night fantasy.

  She was the love of his life.

  “Getting it from someone else. Maybe this scrawny guy with the pompous name,” he said, not bothering to hide his irritation. If anything, this time with Mel would give him something new to talk about with his therapist.

  “Not everyone is as freakishly big as you, Cash.”

  “The ladies don’t complain. If I recall, you didn’t either, Mel.”

  She shoved her jaw forward and narrowed her eyes. “All the more reason I’m glad I’m bleeding. You’re probably carrying more diseases than a rat.”

  “No worries, babe. They make condoms large enough to handle my freakishly big—”

  “You’re such a pig.”

  “I thought I was a rat.”

  “That, too.”

  “At least I have the decency not to throw my girlfriend in your face.” Her eyes widened as she sucked in a breath. Damn, he’d pushed a little too hard. “Not that I have a girlfriend,” he quickly amended.

  “Rolled off your tongue easily enough.” He saw the hurt in her eyes before she looked away. “On second thought, my scrawny, pompously named boyfriend and I don’t need your help.”

  “You two realize I’m standing behind you, right?” the not so scrawny guy asked. If the guy had been a beanpole, he’d have blown the man off as Mel’s legit friend. Even then, he’d probably still be jealous. In his opinion, men and women couldn’t be friends without sleeping together. At least that’d been his experience and why he no longer had any female friends within ten years younger or older than him.

  “Stay out of this, honey,” Mel said, the term of endearment pissing him off. Yeah, she called everyone honey, but he didn’t know this guy.

  “It’s hard to stay out of a conversation when I’m part of it. Plus, I thought we needed Cash to help find Bobby.”

  “Your boyfriend has a point.”

  “I don’t care.” She lifted her chin. “Maybe if you possessed an ounce of maturity, I could tolerate being around you. Since that’s an impossibility, I’m going to pet my dog and leave.”

  “I’m not and never will be Mel’s boyfriend,” Harrison said, holding up his hands. “I can barely handle being friends with her.”

  Cash stared at the man who had obviously lost his frickin’ mind. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, taking Mel by the arms and setting her aside. “Is Mel not good enough for you?”


  “I didn’t say that.” Harrison stepped back. “I mean, she’s pretty and all, but she’s not my type.”

  “Why not?” he asked, wondering how any man could stay away from Melanie. Not only was she gorgeous, she was loving and loyal—when it suited her.

  “Wait, you’re asking me why I don’t want to date a woman you apparently have or had a relationship with, correct?”

  Hell, when the guy put it that way, it did sound like a stupid question.

  “I believe he was,” Melanie said. When Cash looked to her, she shrugged. “I don’t want to date Harrison, either, but I am curious. At least Vlad was honest about telling me my boobs were too small.”

  When you feel your temper escalating, repeat the calming phrase we created.

  He unclenched his fists and drew in a deep breath from his diaphragm. “Unicorns are magical. Unicorns are magical.”

  “I’m sorry, what was that?” Harrison asked.

  “It’s the phrase that’s saving your ass from being kicked. Make fun of me and I’ll kick it anyway.”

  Harrison nodded. “I’m going to the car.”

  “Wait,” Melanie called. “I’m sorry. Cash tends to bring out the worst in me.”

  “Nope. I’m jumping off this crazy train, since I’m the only sane one on board.” Harrison pointed a finger at her. “You want to know why you’re not my type only to make him jealous.” He turned to Cash. “And you want to know so you have an excuse to kick my ass. Clearly, you two have major issues.”

  “You’re right,” Mel said. “I’m sorry.” She tossed him a set of keys. “I’m right behind you.”

  Harrison caught the keys and glared at him. “This has been magical,” he said, then turned and walked away.

  While he still wanted to kick Harrison’s ass, especially for the ‘magical’ shot, he respected a man who had balls. Plus, this gave him and Mel a moment alone and the opportunity to kiss her the way he’d been dying to.

  She brushed past him. “I’m going to say hi to Dolly.”

  He followed Mel into the house, grabbed her arm and hauled her against him. She looked up at him, her eyes glittering with anger and guilt. “Please let me go,” she said with a hitch to her breath when he wrapped an arm around her and brought their bodies flush.

  “I can’t.”

  She reached up and cupped his jaw. “Neither can I,” she said with so much damned sadness it made him ache.

  Ignoring her tone and what it meant for them, he brought their mouths closer. “I’ve missed you.” He brushed his lips against hers. “Nothing’s the same without you.”

  “That’s on you.”

  The disappointment in her eyes killed him. He could give her what she wanted, give them both what they needed, and end their two-year separation. But he didn’t want to. He wanted his fucking cake, the whole damned thing, and to eat it, too. Right now, he wanted to kiss his wife.

  “I want you on me,” he said, taking the easy, immature way and making light of something serious. When she stiffened, he regretted his words and wished he could be the kind of man she deserved—smarter, well spoken, good with emotions.

  “And I just want to see my dog.” She pushed away, but he held her still. “I’m serious, let me go.”

  “I told you, I can’t.” He’d expected her temper to flare and for her to push him again, not her eyes to mist with tears. His chest tightened with panic. Mel never cried.

  “Then maybe I’m the one who needs to put us both out of our misery and do what I should’ve done a long time ago.”

  “Don’t,” he warned her.

  “Or else what?” A tear slipped down her cheek. “I don’t want the house or a piece of your business. I don’t want anything except for you to stay out of my life, or be my husband in every sense—not just on paper.”

  He shoved his hand through her thick wavy hair and cupped her head. “I’m the same man you fell in love with eight years ago. Why does anything have to change?”

  “Because I’m not the same woman, and we’re not in our twenties. It’s time to grow up, Cash. I’m ready to move on, with or without you.”

  He brought her mouth close to his again. “No divorce,” he said, then pressed his lips against hers. When she didn’t kiss him back, his panic intensified. She’d threatened him before, but not like this. She’d never brought another man with her or resisted his touch. He’d finally done it. He’d taken something good and pure and had fucked it up completely. With a sigh and regret weighing on him, he eased back. “I don’t want a divorce.”

  “And I don’t want to live seven hours from my husband.”

  Dolly let out a bark, then another. “I think she heard her mama’s voice.” He eased up on his possessive hold. He wanted to tell her that Dolly hadn’t been the same since she’d left. That even after her brief visits the dog would be down for a few days. He would be, too. Only longer. But he wouldn’t. Guilt didn’t work with Mel, especially when it was his fault she refused to come back to him.

  “Where’s my girl,” Mel sang.

  He grinned. His woman could sing, and just hearing her now brought back memories of when he’d been injured. The late nights when the meds weren’t working and the pain had been unbearable. How she’d eased his fears with sweet lullabies.

  God, he was a dick. She’d nursed him back to health, and he’d given her nothing but heartache in return.

  Dolly barked and wheeled over to see Mel.

  “Such a pretty girl,” Mel cooed. “Mama misses you.” She hugged the dog, and he had another sucker punch of guilt when Dolly closed her eyes and rested her head on Mel’s shoulder.

  A horn blared from the driveway. Dolly lifted her head and perked her ears.

  Mel hugged the dog tighter. “I have to go. Mama will be back soon with something pretty for you.” She kissed the dog on the top of her head, then stood. After sucking in a shaky breath, she said, “I’ll be by before I leave.”

  He grabbed her arm as she walked past him. “You’re not staying here?”

  “Harrison and I rented a couple of rooms at the Holiday Inn.”

  “You’re seriously not staying here?” Since she’d left him, there hadn’t been a time that she hadn’t stayed with him when she’d returned to Tallahassee. And those times had been great, until the topic of their marriage and his job had come into play. Then they’d fight, she’d leave and they wouldn’t speak for weeks. A vicious cycle, but one he’d become familiar with—until now. She was changing things up on him, and he didn’t know how to react. He did, but his therapist would likely have a frickin’ stroke.

  “Well, you’re seriously not going to change and I seriously want a divorce. So, yeah. I think it’s best if I stay at a hotel.”

  He pulled her close. “Stay with me.”

  Her gaze dropped to his mouth. “No.”

  He pressed his body against hers and slid his hand along her rear. “Give me a few days.”

  “I’ve given you two years,” she said, breathless, her gaze shifting from his mouth to his eyes.

  She had him there, and he had nothing to counter her argument. She had given him two years, and he arrogantly figured she’d eventually come back to him.

  “You’re right,” he said honestly.

  “I’m right?”

  He nodded and walked her backward. “I don’t want a divorce, but we can’t keep going on the way we’ve been.” He pressed her against the foyer wall. “Give me the time you’re here to prove we can make this work.”

  “I’m here to find Bobby, not deal with our marriage.”

  “I know, baby. We’ll find him. I promise. I’ve already put word out on the street that we’re looking for him.” He leaned closer. “Just give us a chance.”

  Her eyes filled with tears again. “I can’t keep doing this. It hurts too much.”

  Knowing he was hurting her left him hollow and shameful. “I’m sorry.”

  She punched him in the arm. “You’ve said you’re sorry more
times than I can count. Do something about it.”

  He kissed her.

  She pushed him away. “Not with sex.”

  “That’s right. You have your period.”

  “I lied.”

  “And I just want to kiss you.”

  She stared at him, her eyes unreadable. “Sometimes I hate you,” she said, then shoved her hand through his hair and captured his lips.

  His therapist would tell him to end the kiss, that they weren’t solving anything, only prolonging the hurt. His therapist could go fuck himself. He had his woman in his arms and she was kissing him. Running her hands through his hair in that possessive way he loved. Pressing her breasts against his chest as if she couldn’t get close enough. Skimming her tongue along his in a way that him hard and ready.

  The damned horn beeped again. Mel tore her mouth away from his, then gave him a push. “I’m leaving.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “Fine. But the focus is on finding Bobby, not us”

  Dolly rolled over toward them. Mel gave the dog another hug. “I’m leaving in two minutes, with or without you.”

  As he watched his wife walk away, he stared at her ass, and stroked the dog’s head. “Well, Dolly, you heard your mama. Looks like I either call it quits or lose my wife.” He looked down at Dolly, who panted and hung her tongue to the side. “You’ve been retired for eight years. Is it so bad?”

  Chapter 4

  Tallahassee, Florida

  Friday, 2:56 p.m. Eastern Daylight Saving Time

  “AREN’T YOU GOING to talk to me, honey?” Melanie asked Harrison, laying her southern drawl on thick. Harrison and Vlad usually melted around her when she added a little sugar to her words, but today she might’ve ticked Harrison off too much to make him budge.

  “You egged on your boyfriend.”

  She saw Cash’s truck in her rear view mirror, and was grateful her abrupt departure hadn’t deterred him from helping her. She’d told him he had two minutes before she left, but he’d had her so worked up, she didn’t want to be in the same car with him. She also didn’t want Cash giving Harrison any more crap. “He’s not my boyfriend, and I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

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