by Jill Sanders
His smile slipped a little. “Let’s forget today.”
She laughed. “How could I? You saw what we pulled out of the trunk of my car. Everything I had is gone. Well, almost everything.”
He shrugged. “You said it yourself, you were looking for an excuse to get a new wardrobe,” he reminded her.
“I did.” She brushed herself against him. “Any excuse to get to purchase some sexy underwear I may or may not have the possibility of showing off soon.” She felt his body stiffen next to hers and smiled.
“How soon can you go shopping?” he asked, his voice low as his hands started rubbing up and down her back.
“Not soon enough,” she purred before he covered her mouth with his.
“Wednesday evening,” he whispered against her ear, “can’t come soon enough.” His hands ran up and down. She arched into him, enjoying the feeling of being stroked.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said against his chest. “You’ll never know how much it meant to me to laugh.” Leaning back, she looked up into his eyes. The greenness of them drew her in for another kiss. Tears stung her eyes as she poured all her emotions into this one kiss.
“I have to…” She turned abruptly but he took her hand, stopping her from escaping.
“Hey.” He touched his palm to her face and searched her eyes. “It’ll get better. I can’t promise it, but I’ll be right here with you to make sure that it does.”
She sighed and nodded, not trusting her voice. Her eyes moved to Palmer, fast asleep in her car seat. “Tell her goodnight,” she said in a shaky voice.
He nodded, then leaned in for another kiss. “Goodnight,” he said and let her go.
During the short drive back to the inn, she tried to focus on the good of the evening. The laughter, the fun she’d had, instead of the horrors of the day.
When she stepped inside, she was surprised when Genie rushed over to her.
“They’re gone,” she whispered, pulling Eve’s arm so she followed her into the hallway.
“Who?” Eve asked.
“Your family,” Genie answered.
“Good.” Eve started to walk away.
“No.” Eve stopped her. “You don’t get it. All of them. Even your parents. They left.”
“Left?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. “Or moved out?”
Genie shrugged. “Left, I think. I didn’t see movers or boxes.”
Eve closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Seriously?” She headed towards the stairs.
Sure enough, when she stepped into her parents’ rooms, everything was still in place. Using her keys, she let herself into her aunt and uncle’s rooms. It was as if they’d just gone somewhere for a weekend trip. Clothes were strewn all over her aunt Louisa’s room, as if she’d packed in a hurry.
Losing her patience, she dialed her parents’ number and groaned when the call went to voicemail. She tried every one of her family and each call went to voicemail without ringing.
Letting herself into her rooms, she ran through what her next move was. Was she strong enough to hire movers and place all her family’s items in storage until they returned? Could she be so mean? Was it really necessary?
Then she noticed that the camera was gone. She’d left it on her grandfather’s favorite chair. Looking around to make sure she hadn’t moved it, she rushed over to her laptop. After a few clicks she found Steve’s YouTube site and watched in horror. The video of everything that had happened that morning was up on her cousin’s channel. Video of DarCee’s most bloody parts weren’t even blurred out. The son-of-a-bitch had actually added a laugh reel over the top of the video after the initial explosion.
While she and Dylan had worked on DarCee, he’d turned the camera towards her burning car and had chuckled at the destruction.
Just then, her phone rang, and she answered it without looking at the screen.
“What?” she barked out.
“I take it you’ve seen the video,” Dylan said softly.
“The son of a…” She closed her eyes. “They moved out.”
“Good,” Dylan replied.
“All of them. They left everything, but they’re gone.” She started pacing the room.
He was quiet for a while. “Donate their stuff to charity.”
She laughed. She couldn’t help it. “That would serve them right.” She sighed and rolled her shoulders.
“I can spend my day hauling it all away,” he offered.
“No.” She shook her head and thought about it. Screw it. What would they have done to her? “I’ll hire a company to move everything into one of the larger storerooms in the basement.”
“Good, I have the perfect padlock for the door,” he added. “Have you talked to them?”
“They aren’t answering my calls.” She toed off her shoes and flipped the deadbolt. “Think you can update all the locks in this place?”
He was silent for a while. “All of them?”
“Just the ones on this floor,” she answered as she sat down in her grandfather’s chair.
“Sure, I’ll swing by the hardware store before I head your way in the morning. Are you doing okay?”
“No but talking makes it much better,” she admitted. “Did Palmer get off to bed?”
“Yes. I just happened to sit down to watch the news. I thought I’d check… to see if there was an update on DarCee. The video’s all over the news.”
“It is?” She frowned and flipped on her television, hitting the mute button. “Shit.” She sighed, seeing the video on the local news. This time the worst of the blood and destruction was blurred out. The laugh reel was gone, and the video stopped with an image of her burning car.
“He probably sold it for a shiny penny to the local stations,” Dylan added.
“They pay for those?”
“Some do. I have a buddy who works at the local station. I can ask?” he suggested.
“No, it doesn’t matter. Poor DarCee. He actually added a laugh reel to the one he posted on YouTube.”
“Yeah, I noticed. If I ever get my hands on the guy again…”
“Me first.” She rested her head back.
“Get some rest. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day,” he added. “I’m heading to bed myself.”
She smiled. “Tell me, do you sleep commando?”
He chuckled. “With a five-year-old in the house?”
She frowned. “Right.”
“You?” he asked after a heartbeat.
Her smile was back. “No.” She thought of the big fuzzy pajamas she was dying to pull on, then lied. “Silk, lace, and sometimes…”—she waited a beat— “leather.”
“My god,” she heard him growl. “Tell me more,” he begged.
Stretching, she tried to remember the last time she’d had phone sex, then realized it was a new experience for her. Holding her cell close, she tried to imagine the perfect things to say to him. And came up blank.
“I… haven’t done this before,” she admitted.
“It’s easy,” he said softly. “Run your hands over yourself. Imagine they’re mine and tell me… everything.”
She leaned back further in the chair and did as he asked.
“I’m unbuttoning my blouse,” she said, trying to hold the phone between her ear and her shoulder. After it slipped a couple times, she placed it on speaker and set it down on the arm of the chair. “There, now I can use both hands.” She heard a low groan in response.
“Is your blouse off?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, tossing it on the sofa beside her.
“What do you have underneath? The truth,” he warned.
She looked down and sighed. “White cotton.”
He groaned again. “Run your hands over it. Close your eyes.” She did as he asked. “Slip a finger under it, run it around your nipple.” She followed his instructions and moaned softly. “Yes, that’s it. Arch into my hands,” he begged, and she did as he commanded. “Run your other hand down your stomach.
Tell me…”
“God, it feels so good,” she said between moans, imagining it was his calloused hands running over her instead of her own soft ones. “You feel so good.”
“Slide those sexy black slacks down your hips,” he said. She shifted and her slacks pooled on the floor. “What’s under those?” he asked.
She glanced down and frowned, knowing this time she would lie. “Black silk.”
He chuckled. “The truth.”
She sighed. “Practical cotton that matches the top.”
“What color?”
“Cream, skin color.” She moved to push them off, but he stopped her by saying.
“My god, that’s sexy. Run your hands over them. Feel my hands through the material.”
Closing her eyes, she did as he asked, imagining it was his hands, feeling herself grow damp at the thought as her desire for him grew.
“Dip a finger below and nudge the material aside. I’m going to do the same to you next time we’re alone. Imagine it’s me now. God, I want to bury my face down there and lap you up.”
She arched and groaned as her fingers found herself, wet, wanting, waiting. “Dylan,” she begged.
“Yes, that’s it. I’m going to slip a finger into you now,” he said, and she dipped her own finger into her heat as he described what he was going to do to her. “Deep inside you while my tongue plays across your clit, scraping my teeth across your skin.”
“Oh god.” She arched and squeezed her knees together, imagining wrapping her legs around his shoulders, her fingers digging into his hair, holding, begging him for more.
“That’s it, come for me. Come on my tongue.” He groaned. “God, you taste so good.”
She couldn’t help it. At the sound of his husky voice, she exploded, lights blinding her behind her eyelids, her breath panting out as her hips rocked in time with his words. When she was done, her entire body went lax as he continued to talk to her in hushed tones. She drifted off to sleep, imagining being wrapped around his naked body.
15
A day to remember
How could he have known that phone sex would be as good as the real deal? Hell, just listening to her coming, calling out his name over the phone, had him following her. He could tell she’d fallen asleep and for as long as he could he’d listened to her light breathing, imagining she was curled up, naked, next to him.
When he arrived at the inn, he was surprised to see a flutter of activity in the main lobby. He found Eve trying to coordinate the large group that had arrived just before he had.
“Sorry,” she told him when he sought her out. “It’s the McIntosh wedding group,” she said with a smile. “If you are set, you can start on your list.”
“I’ll get those locks switched out first. If you have your keys?”
“Oh.” She reached into her tan slacks and pulled out a ring. “They’re all here.” She handed the ring to him. “You know where I’ll be if you need anything,” she said, just as Patrick waved her over. “Gotta go.” She smiled and disappeared into the crowd.
For the next hour, he worked on replacing all the locks on the top floor, placing the keys with the bolts and labeling the new ones with little tags that had the room number on them.
The rest of the day was so packed with work that he didn’t have any spare time to talk with her again. He bumped into her once in the top floor hallway as she guided the movers she’d hired to pack up and haul all her family’s private items to a storeroom on the bottom basement level.
“Wow, they work fast,” he said, glancing into the room where he’d pinned her cousin down. Everything was gone, including the outdated furniture.
“My family held Reggie’s services the first moment I stepped away.” She shrugged and he could see the hurt behind her eyes.
He touched her shoulder and she took a deep breath. “They’ll have the rooms cleared by tonight.” She straightened her shoulders. “How soon can you get in here with fresh paint and flooring?” She looked at the empty rooms.
He thought about it. “Let me finish tackling the first list. I can have the last items done by the end of this week, and I can start on all of these rooms up here by next week.”
She nodded and smiled as she rested a hand on his arm. “Thank you.”
That evening, Palmer helped him cook mac and cheese, her favorite dish. He tried to be a better father by at least putting chunks of broccoli in the meal, something his daughter absolutely loved.
Bath time was always a sport, with her running around the house as he tried to pull on her pajamas after. At some point she’d made it into a game, one she was getting a little too old to continue. It made him sad. He was going to miss his little girl.
He woke early the next morning, Wednesday finally, and drove Palmer to his dad’s place with her overnight bag.
“You look like you’re in a good mood,” his father pointed out instantly. Then he winked at him. “Playing the hero looks good on you.”
It took him a moment to figure out what his father was talking about. Then he remembered that all the news stations had portrayed him as the hero of the rocket explosion.
Groaning, he rolled his eyes. “No, just looking forward to getting out on the water tonight.”
His father chuckled and slapped him on the back. “Yeah, I know what you’re looking forward to,” he said with a wink. “It’s about damn time too. You haven’t been out on the… water”—his father’s eyebrows wiggled— “in a long time.”
“Grandpa!” Palmer shook her head at him.
“Sorry.” His father chuckled and tossed a quarter from his pocket into the massive swear jar that sat by his father’s front door. “Go.” He turned back to Dylan. “Have fun. Don’t worry about us tonight. I bought popcorn and fixings for tacos. We’re going to sit around, watch Frozen for the hundredth time, and eat junk food.” His father’s eyes danced as Palmer followed Cooper into the other room, trying to get the massive dog to wear her blanket as a cape.
“Did you ever think life would turn out like this?” he asked, watching his daughter disappear down the hallway, suddenly feeling heavy hearted.
“No.” His father’s smile slipped as he watched the same scene. “I never thought it would be this good.” He turned back to him. “Not after losing your mother.”
His father reached out and pulled him into a hug.
“Thank you, Dad,” he said suddenly. “For being there for me when I needed you. Not everyone is as lucky as I am to have parents who give a fuck.” He said it softly so his daughter wouldn’t hear in the next room.
“No, I suppose not. But anyone who earns the love and respect of those people is truly one of the lucky ones.” His father slapped him again on the back. “Now, get to work.” He smiled. “And have a good time tonight.”
“Thanks,” he said and called out to Palmer to get one last hug and kiss before he left.
The inn was still a flurry of activity. The wedding party would be sticking around for the big event on Friday night. Since most of the guests were in from out of state, they enjoyed all the activities the inn offered, including the pool bar. He’d overheard the gossip that a fistfight had broken out between the bride’s brothers and the groom’s cousins late last night.
Since Eve wasn’t in her office when he arrived, he got right to work fixing a bunch of electrical outlets in the kitchen and one of the heavy-duty vents over the massive stove. He had to work around the breakfast rush, but in the end, when the thing sputtered to life, he was rewarded with a plate of double fudge cookies and a large glass of chocolate milk. Best reward ever.
When he found Eve shortly before lunch, she was on the top floor, helping a young couple get into their room.
“Oh, just in time.” She waved him over. “Maybe you can help us out. The lock isn’t working.” She motioned towards the door. He took the key from her and tried it, but there was something jamming the lock so the key couldn’t slide in. Kneeling, he examined it. It appeared as if som
eone had stuffed something in the lock. Using his tools, he painstakingly cleared the tumblers and pulled out the small pieces of paper someone had stuffed in the hole.
When the door finally swung open, he knew instantly something was wrong and yanked it shut again.
“I think…” He turned to Eve, his heart racing. “Maybe this couple should be given another room. Maybe an upgrade for all their patience?” He reached out and squeezed Eve’s shoulder, trying to convince her to not push it in front of the guests.
Eve looked confused, but then nodded and said calmly. “Sure, why don’t you two follow me downstairs and we’ll get you hooked up with an…” He could tell she was mentally calculating which rooms were still available. “With a west-facing suite. Something where you can sit out on the balcony and watch the sunsets.” She started following the couple down the hallway as he pulled out his phone.
“Once you’re done there, why don’t you come back up and help me replace this lock,” he suggested with a slight nod towards the room, trying to give her the hint that he would need her without spooking the guests.
Eve nodded in agreement, her eyes meeting his. Since the guests were busy walking away, he pointed towards the room and mouthed, “Something’s wrong.”
She gave him a quick nod and turned to follow the couple back downstairs.
When he was positive that he was alone, he swung open the door to confirm his worst fears. He knew the smell of blood and rotting flesh from his time in the Navy, when he and his team had been hours too late to rescue two hostages that they’d snuck behind enemy lines to save.
Deciding not to step foot in the room, he dialed the local PD and waited. The only two cops on staff in the small town—Phil Jones, a man his father’s age, and Barb Ryan, a woman a few years older than Dylan—arrived with Eve on their heels.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“You’d better stay out here,” he suggested, opening the door for Phil to walk through. The man did a quick spin and rushed out of the room, getting sick all over the hallway floor.
“Jesus, you might’ve warned me,” he said between gags.