Salvage 2

by Elaina John

  ****

  Denise pulled into the driveway a little before seven o’clock in the evening. She had a long day filled with questioning suspects in a terrorist plot, finishing the mounds of paperwork on her desk, and trying to find a bakery to make her and R.J.’s wedding cake on such short notice. She received the news that their previous baker was unable to complete the order despite them requesting it two months ago.

  Barkley greeted her at the door with a bark of hello and a request for a tummy rub. Denise obliged him.

  The savory scents wafting from the kitchen caused her stomach to growl. R.J. was cooking? That happened once in a blue moon. She strolled into the kitchen.

  He glanced over his shoulder while stirring a pot on the stove. R.J. smiled, sending Denise’s heart aflutter with the way one side of his mouth tilted higher than the other. “I thought I heard you come in.”

  She walked over and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I can’t believe you’re making dinner. What did you do?” She raised a questioning brow.

  “I can’t just make dinner for my honey?”

  “You can, but I doubt it.”

  He laughed. “I did nothing; don’t worry. I just wanted to cook for you. I know how stressed you’ve been with all the wedding stuff.”

  She had been stressed. Planning a wedding was not easy. It gave her constant headaches.

  When R.J. turned back to the stove, Denise wrapped her arms around him from behind, resting her cheek against his firm back. “Thank you, sweetheart. You treat me so good. What are we having?”

  “Rice and beans,” they both said at the same time.

  “It’s the only thing I know how to make.”

  “Maybe someone will give us cooking lessons for a wedding gift.” Denise’s recipe repertoire wasn’t large either. However, she took pride in the fact that it consisted of more than rice and beans.

  “It’s about done now. Grab a seat.”

  “I need to change clothes first. I’ll be back down in a second.”

  He smacked her on the butt when she turned to leave. She skipped away before his hands became more dangerous and they forgot about dinner thanks to his other appetite.

  Upstairs in the bedroom Denise took off her pants suit and slipped into a pair of sweats. She had just dumped her clothes in the hamper when a flash of red caught her eye. She pulled R.J.’s white dress shirt out. On the collar was a red lipstick stain.

  Her breath caught. Denise told herself to breathe. There had to be a logical explanation to why there was red lipstick on his shirt when she didn’t wear red lipstick. Denise brought it up to her nose and inhaled. That spicy scent, something similar to cinnamon, didn’t belong to her.

  Her grip tightened on the material, her knuckles whitening. She looked around and pulled the suit he wore today out of the closet. She checked all the pockets, searching for a phone number, a matchbook, anything. They were empty, including the pocket in his suit jacket where his handkerchief was supposed to be. She folded his handkerchiefs for him every morning. It should be there.

  Infidelity.

  That was the reason R.J. decided to make dinner. She was suddenly glad she wasn’t wearing her gun and had already locked it up in the safe. R.J. had a lot of explaining to do and his explanation had better be good. As a government agent, she had a built in B.S. meter.

  With the shirt still in her hand, Denise marched downstairs to the kitchen. The table was set with plates of food beside glasses of red wine. The lights dim, a single white candle flickered on the center of the table. R.J. smiled and pulled out a chair, gesturing for her to sit.

  “My lady arrives.”

  “What is this, R.J.?” She held up the shirt.

  Confusion overtook his joyous expression when he glanced from her cold face to the shirt. “What? My shirt?”

  “The lipstick on your collar. Who does it belong to?”

  “I… Huh?”

  This was a fine time for him to play dumb. Yeah, lawyers didn’t get that option. “How could you, R.J.?”

  “I didn’t do anything.” He took a step toward her. She backed up. “I swear.”

  “Then how do you explain what I found? You wore this shirt today.” She threw it at him. “Your handkerchief is missing.”

  He scrutinized the evidence. She watched as understanding hit him. He chuckled. Denise found nothing funny. She lost one man she cared about to another woman. Losing another would break her down, losing this one in particular.

  “Honey, it’s not what you think. The lipstick stain was from a client I met with today. In the office,” he added at her raised brows. “Ms. Navarro was having a hard time telling me her story. I gave her my handkerchief when she started to cry. She hugged me. That’s how the lipstick probably got on the collar. End of story.”

  When he stepped toward her this time, she didn’t back away. “I love you, Denise. I wouldn’t cheat on you, especially not with a client. I promise I have been nothing but faithful to you.”

  “Really?” Because she believed him in spite of the evidence stating otherwise, color rose in her cheeks. At times, she overreacted.

  “Really.” He tossed the shirt on the floor. Denise wanted to burn it.

  He grasped her face. His lips closed over hers, his tongue stroking the inside of Denise’s mouth. R.J. kissed her until she couldn’t breathe, kissed her until she knew he was hers.

  “You ruined me for all other women,” he murmured, pulling back. “But I appreciate your jealousy. It’s kind of hot.”

  “R.J.,” she warned gently.

  “Okay. Okay. Sit down. Dinner is getting cold.”

  She hated that she allowed her lack of confidence and mind to get the best of her. How could she ever doubt him? Infidelity and R.J. didn’t mix. He was one of the most loyal people she knew.

  “I’m really sorry,” she said once they sat down for R.J.’s version of a romantic candlelight dinner.

  The flames reflecting in his blue eyes were almost hypnotic. “It’s okay. I’m not holding it against you. If you hadn’t gotten upset over me with another woman, I would be worried. Let’s move on from that and never bring it up again. How was your day?”

  Denise wanted to forget it ever happened. Embarrassment would do that to a person. “Hectic. We have to do a cake consultation tomorrow.” R.J. might only be able to cook one dish, but he was good at it. Denise put another forkful in her mouth and chewed.

  He frowned. “Didn’t we already do that? Not that I’m turning down eating cake.”

  “The bakery we previously chose suddenly closed down. The owner decided to move to Hawaii to follow her dreams of becoming a professional surfer.”

  He snorted. “I’m all for following your dreams. As long as we get our deposit back, she can surf until her heart is content.”

  “We get it back. The appointment is at five o’clock tomorrow.”

  “Fine with me. I’ll be there. Oh, before I forget. My parents are flying in a couple weeks early. My mother wants to help you prepare all the last minute things for the wedding.” He rolled his eyes.

  R.J. didn’t have the best relationship with his parents, but it was on the mend. They weren’t supportive of him when he was a bartender, believing the job was below him. Denise convinced R.J. to get in touch with them and rebuild their bond. Nothing could compare to the love of parents for their children.

  “That’ll be great. I need the extra help since you don’t give me any.”

  He washed his food down with a sip of wine. “I help. You claim I don’t do things right, so to prevent from getting my head bitten off, I let you take the lead. You’re going to be wishing for my assistance when my mom tries to take over. She will drive you crazy, Denise.”

  She laughed. “I doubt it. It’ll be fun to connect with her and your dad. They can meet my father.” Her mother died when she was twelve. She missed her, but her dad was amazing. The best father in the world in Denise’s opinion.

  “I hope Freddie treats
them better than he treats me.”

  “My dad likes you.” Most of the time. “He’s just hard on you because you’re marrying his little girl. You can’t tell me you won’t be like that if we have a daughter.”

  “I’ll strangle any guy that touches her,” he said with a straight face.

  “Exactly.”

  “Then it’s a good thing your dad doesn’t know what I’m about to do.”

  “What’s that?”

  R.J. pushed back from the table. He came around and threw Denise over his shoulder.

  She squealed. “What are you doing?”

  “You’ll see.” R.J. laid her on the couch.

  They weren’t doing so well on their abstinence pledge.