Crazed Reckoning, a Nick Spinelli Mystery

by Valerie J. Clarizio

  Love, Shannon

  Caving to his selfishness, Spinelli lifted his hand and combed his fingers through Shannon’s smooth, silky strands of hair before his hand came to rest against her warm, inviting, cheek. Her eyes fluttered open but quickly closed again. He tilted her head slightly for better access to her soft, irresistible lips. He touched them lightly with his before he pulled his head back in hopes to catch a glimpse of her beautiful emerald eyes. It took but a moment for her lids to rise, and the sea of green staring back at him instantly swallowed him whole.

  Wasting no time, he dipped his head and fully took her mouth. The heat of her tongue nearly set him to flames. Her fingers wove through his hair; his hand cupped a breast through her shirt. Her back still pinned one arm between her and the chair. As if reading his mind, she shifted her position more upright, freeing his arm and his hand for roaming. He nearly chuckled at her mind-reading skills in the few short months they’d been together. At this rate, he’d soon have no private thoughts left.

  Her scorching tongue turned his mind to mush. She sent every nerve ending in his body to the highest point of arousal he’d ever experienced. He couldn’t think anymore. He could only react and deepened his kiss.

  Straddling him in the chair, she placed her hands on his cheeks and locked her smoldering gaze onto his. He needed a crowbar to tear his gaze from hers, as he glanced at her letter still on the arm of the chair. Unless she saw it in the last few seconds, she would have no way of knowing he’d seen the letter she wrote to him. Shifting his gaze back to her, he found her looking at the paper. Her breath held for a moment.

  The sheer intensity of her concentrated gaze bored into his soul. “I meant every word of it, Nick.”

  A thrill snapped through him like a lightning bolt as if this information was new to him. Deep down he’d known it for a while, but the letter confirmed his suspicions. Hearing her say the words, with such sincerity and assurance, rendered him speechless. His heart pounded in his chest.

  Shannon’s green eyes darkened as she leaned forward and pressed her fiery-hot and needy lips to his. Spinelli’s greedy hands went to work, pulling her shirt up and over her head so quickly their lips hardly parted to complete the task. His fingers loosened the hook on her bra, freeing her small perky round breasts from their confinement.

  Pulling his lips from hers, he fastened his mouth around one breast as he cupped the other in the palm of his hand. Her breath hitched and released with a soft moan. If that was the last sound he ever heard, he’d die a happy man. She had the most beautiful breasts.

  Shannon’s small hands floated down and fluidly worked the button and zipper of his jeans. If she took any longer, the force of his erection would take care of that task.

  He somehow found enough sense to lift himself to his feet with Shannon in his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist. He took the four steps needed before playfully tossing her onto the bed. Kneeling before him, she tugged at his jeans as he pulled his shirt over his head. She eyed his erection. He always loved how she looked at him. Only two things were better. Yep, wrapping her mouth around him was one. Her sizzling tongue slid around and over the tip of him before taking him in completely. The escalating pressure was nearly more than he could bear and she’d hardly started. His pulse pounded in his ears as his aching body begged for release. His concentrated effort to hold out nearly failed him as she freed him from the depths of her knowing mouth.

  Shannon scooted up on the bed. Her skin flushed at his gaze. He tugged her jeans and panties from her before he crawled up beside her. Before he knew it, his mouth covered hers, probing, exploring, as if it had never been there before. He was ready, so ready to dip inside her velvet opening.

  He pulled back to look at her. Her emerald gaze studied him. He caught a glimpse of the sparkle on her finger. She hadn’t noticed yet that he’d slipped the diamond ring on her finger while she slept. He shivered; he couldn’t breathe. His eyes watered. Shear panic flashed in her eyes. For chrissake, Spinelli, pull yourself together. You’re scaring her.

  * * * *

  Shannon froze in reaction to Spinelli’s abrupt move away from her during one of the most heated moments of their lovemaking to date. Had she done something wrong? Panic ripped through her as she studied him. In an instant, his olive-colored skin turned ghostly white. His body shook, his breath held to the point that his skin took on a blue hue. Were those tears in his charcoal-gray eyes?

  Spinelli didn’t move, didn’t breathe, and just kept staring at her.

  Shannon propped herself up on her right elbow and placed her left hand against his cheek, “Are you okay, Nick?”

  His jaw moved slightly but no words escaped. “Nick.”

  He flinched at the sound of his name as if she’d branded him with a red-hot poker, but with his abrupt movement, she caught a glimpse of the heart-shaped diamond ring on her finger. Pulling her hand from his face, she centered it in front of her eyes. A thrill snapped through her. Her heart thudded in her chest. She imagined her watery gaze now matched his. The ring she stared at certainly beat out a 14-karat gold Claddagh friendship ring. This Saint Patrick’s Day adventure had been more than she bargained for, in more ways than one.

  Catching her breath, she glanced back at Nick. He still looked sick. The words she wished to speak scrambled in her head. They were quite the pair. She needed to say something soon before he suffocated himself.

  “Does this mean ...” Shannon swallowed the infringing excitement in her throat that threatened to block her speech. “Are you asking ...?”

  Shannon’s words halted as Nick’s began. “Yes, I’m asking that you marry me.”

  “Yes, Nick Spinelli. I will marry you.”

  His smoldering gaze turned black as coal at her response. He leaned toward her and captured her lips with his hot, hungry mouth. The immeasurable possessiveness of his kiss overwhelmed her. Heat spiraled through her body, her skin on the verge of melting. The sensations ripping through her could only be described as pure pleasure, and he was just getting started.

  A lifetime of this. She pulled him tighter to her desperate aching body. Oh, yeah.

  ***

  Note to Readers

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for reading CRAZED RECKONING, a Nick Spinelli Mystery! I hope you enjoyed Nick and Shannon's St. Patrick’s Day story.

  I feel like poor Nick and Shannon have endured enough holiday chaos so I think I’ll leave them alone for a while and bring some Fourth of July holiday stress to Talia & Ryan. If you like short stories with a bit of tension, I invite to you check out TALIA & RYAN’S STORY, Beach Chaos and Romance, the first installment in my Love on the Door County Peninsula series.

  One-click TALIA & RYAN’S STORY, Beach Chaos and Romance. Don’t miss out!

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  If you'd like to support me, please leave a review. You are the reason I write and I sincerely appreciate you!

  Best,

  Valerie

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  Valerie J. Clarizio's Other Titles:

  The Nick Spinelli Romance Mystery Series

  Covert
Exposure, a Nick Spinelli Mystery, novella 1

  Craving Vengeance, a Nick Spinelli Mystery, novella 2

  Crazed Reckoning, a Nick Spinelli Mystery, novella 3

  Romantic Suspense Titles

  Taken by Surprise

  Unforeseen Obsessions

  Plan Interrupted

  Chandler County Series

  Missing the Crown Jewels

  Missing out on Life

  Crime & Passion Stalk City Hall Series

  The Code Enforcer

  A Brush with Death

  Time Travel Romance Titles

  Time WARped

  Destiny Reclaimed

  Contemporary Romance Titles

  Family Forever

  Short Story Titles

  Love Thaws a Frozen Heart

  Love on the Door County Peninsula Series

  Talia & Ryan's Story

  Jess & Sam's Story

  Bonus Excerpt

  Enjoy this excerpt from TALIA & RYAN’S STORY, Beach Chaos and Romance.

  Chapter One

  "113 10-50 PI," dispatch radioed.

  Shit, personal injury.

  "113 go ahead," Deputy Ryan Larson replied.

  "Moped versus tree on Shore Road in Peninsula Park, approximately one mile north of the park office. One female with injury. EMS has been paged."

  "Has state park law enforcement been notified?"

  "Yes. Two park rangers are now on scene."

  Larson cringed at the thought of having to respond to the moped accident call, but not only was he the deputy closest to the scene, he was the only one available. The other three deputies working the county were busy with other accidents and complaints. They'd all been running non-stop since their shift started at three o'clock.

  Welcome to Door County Wisconsin on the Fourth of July weekend.

  Though he was only a few miles south of the park's entrance located in Fish Creek, it’d take him a while to arrive on the scene. He hoped to get through the holiday weekend vehicle congestion without getting in a wreck himself. Red lights, and siren blaring, he clipped down the highway at speeds ranging between forty and ninety, depending on the curves and traffic.

  Emergency Medical Services updates indicated there were no major traffic issues currently impeding his route. They also reported that alcohol didn’t appear to be a factor with the crash.

  He slowed at the curvy, downhill portion of the highway leading into the small town he needed to drive through to reach the park.

  Traffic was at a near-standstill as people crossed streets on every corner. Curbside parking was filled. The vehicles in front of him couldn’t get out of his way. Frustration ripped through him. He darted his gaze around looking for an opening to slip through. Nothing. Finally, the pedestrians seemed to get the picture and waved the cars through the intersections.

  Larson crept along, slowly meandering around vehicles that’d come to a stop, unable to get out of his way. Some motorists were lucky, ducking into overflowing parking lots of the retail shops and restaurants. Others simply pulled up next to cars parked at the curbside. He hated having to maneuver through these small Door County towns during the height of tourist season.

  Larson tightened his fingers around the steering wheel. Anxiety gripped his spine. Truth be told, it wasn't the traffic or the moped accident that had him cringing at responding to the call, it was the fact that she'd probably be there.

  Talia Johnson, the park ranger from hell.

  She hated him with a passion. Why, he wasn't sure. Honestly, she was abrasive with all the sheriff's deputies, but her dislike for him was second to none. So bad even his co-workers had noticed.

  As he drove past the entrance gate to the park, dispatch let him know that two first responders were on-scene with the two park rangers who initially responded to the call. Good news. But, the EMTs were still en route.

  Larson pulled to the edge of the narrow road, parking behind Sam Bley's truck and trailer loaded with lawn maintenance equipment. He was glad to know Sam was on the scene. The man was an experienced first responder, not to mention, one top-notch lawn maintenance entrepreneur.

  Larson flung his door open and sprang out of his squad car. The ninety-plus-degree temperature was like a punch to his gut, draining his lungs. The extreme humidity didn’t help his breathing either. It was always a scorcher on the Fourth of July.

  He grabbed his high-visibility safety vest from the trunk and headed toward the injured party, three vehicle lengths up the road. A woman in her early fifties lay half on the pavement, half in the ditch—her moped in the brush next to a good-sized tree.

  Sam leaned over the woman, asking questions about her pain. Her responses were not much more than whispers. At least she was conscious.

  Two other mopeds were parked at the side of the road. Those drivers stood a short distance away from the injured party, talking with the two rangers on the scene.

  Clark Johnson, another first responder, helped Sam attend to the injured woman. Larson held the man’s skills in high regard as well. He'd been at enough calls through the years to know the first responder knew what he was doing as much as Sam. Clark's only downfall was his daughter from hell, Ranger Talia. But, regardless of how Talia treated him, Larson really liked Clark and felt sorry for the poor man. Less than a year ago he'd lost his wife and he took it really hard. Hell, he actually felt sorry for Talia, too. It was no secret Mrs. Johnson's death took its toll on both Clark and his daughter.

  With a quick glance in the other direction, Larson caught sight of Ranger Talia standing less than ten feet away, giving him the evil eye. A look he'd grown used to, but he still didn't like it or understand the motivation behind it. Hell, once, he'd actually wanted to ask her to go out on a date. He hadn't said three words before she’d tongue-lashed him and the entire sheriff's department, putting an end to his desire to date her. If not for the scowl on her milky-white face, she’d be pretty, and sexy as sin in her ranger outfit. Her curves filled out her uniform in all the right places.

  Larson drew in a slow deep breath and let it out before stepping up next to her, the second ranger, and the others in their little circle. He assumed they were witnesses to the accident, or perhaps friends of the injured party. Briefly, he listened to their banter. Talia's tone was soft and sympathetic as she spoke to the group. Much unlike the tone she used when she spoke to him.

  Swinging his gaze around the area, he tried to piece together the events that’d caused the accident. No citizens parked nearby, and no mention from dispatch the accident was a hit and run led him to believe the woman lying on the ground simply failed to negotiate the tight curve and took out the tree—make that the tree took her out. From the sticker on the basket on the back of the moped, Larson knew she’d been driving a rental, so likely she wasn't going all that fast. The damaged bike helmet next to her indicated she’d hit the tree hard enough to be thrown off, cracking her head good. No sign of blood though.

  A teary-eyed, young woman in her early twenties stared at him. Her delicate features made her appear frail. Good thing she wasn’t the one who slammed into the tree; she would have probably shattered into pieces.

  Standing next to her was another lady, slightly older, perhaps in her early thirties. Shiny, straight brown hair framed her thin face. Long, thick lashes outlined her dark brown eyes. Real eyelashes couldn't possibly be that long–they had to be fake. The woman could easily be a model. She raked her gaze over him.

  Seriously? Your friend just took out a tree, and you’re putting the “make” on me.

  Maybe she's just a witness. Larson pulled the small notepad from his shirt pocket and flipped it open, then swung his gaze between the two women. “Hello, ladies. I'm Deputy Larson.”

  The younger woman dabbed her big, brown eyes with a tissue as the other smiled flirtatiously.

  “Hi. I'm Meredith Dodson,” the teary-eyed woman said. She gestured toward the model. “This is Carolyn Chambers, my mother's friend.” Her gaze darted
to the injured woman. “That's my mother, Jennifer Dodson. We're visiting from California.”

  Larson nodded. “Can you tell me what happened?”

  “I got it,” Ranger Talia cut in as she leaned farther into the circle. From under the brim of her brown hat, her bright green eyes shot daggers at him.

  “Got, what?”

  “The report. You don't need to worry about it. I'll file the report. It's my jurisdiction."

  Her condescending tone irritated him. And this was a first—normally, park rangers didn't file accident reports, even for those occurring in the park. It was certainly her prerogative, but historically, the sheriff's deputies filed the paperwork. She was just playing big-shot and trying to make him look bad, but now was not the time to argue with her. Not in front of the poor girl watching the first responders tend to her mother.

  A small car whizzed by, nearly hitting him as it squeezed between him and the oncoming traffic sharing the one open, narrow lane of road. Evidently, the flashing lights on the park trucks and his squad meant nothing to the passersby. Larson shook his head and threw up his hands, hoping the driver would see him in his rearview mirror. As if dealing with Ranger Talia wasn't bad enough, he had to deal with idiot drivers, too.

  He nodded at Talia. “Great. I'll go up the road and slow the vehicles down until this is cleaned up. Officer McGrath radioed, he should be here any moment. He was just about home when he heard the call. I'll send him up the other way, and he can monitor traffic from that end.”

  Or did she want to handle traffic control, too?

  Larson rolled his eyes to the sky as he turned to head up the street. Darkness was creeping in. Where is that freaking ambulance?

  As if on cue, an ambulance rounded the curve followed by a pickup truck from the moped rental company located just outside the park entrance.

  Larson flagged the truck to a stop. “As soon as the ambulance is gone, you can pick up the mopeds.”

  The young man nodded.

  After the first responders got them up-to-speed on the injured party's condition, the EMTs took over Ms. Dodson's care. But the men would have to wait for the ambulance blocking the roadway to depart before they could leave. Especially, Sam, there’d be no way for him to maneuver his truck and trailer around the ambulance on the narrow, tree-lined road.