“Bed? Shower?” he asked.
“Either. Both,” she said and smiled.
“Shower first then,” he said, and he moved her back under the warm spray of water. He picked up her. She wrapped her legs around him, and he entered her. One hand holding her up, and one hand on the tile wall for leverage, he rocked her. She was so tight, he knew he wouldn’t last. Thankfully, before he exploded, he felt her come and her spasms milked his own orgasm.
When they’d both come down from the high, he stepped away from wall. He carried her out of the shower and to the bed.
“We’re going to get your comforter wet,” she said.
“I don’t care.” He pulled her against him and brushed her hair from her face. “That was amazing. Thank you.”
She smiled and blushed. “I know. I was there, too. Thank you.”
He pulled her just a little tighter. “You see what you’d have missed if you’d stayed at Chloe’s?”
“That would have been a shame.” She pressed her cheek against him.
He felt her shiver, and he pulled the comforter over her. She shifted and rested her head on his chest and they just lay there, without talking. He brushed his hand up and down her back. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. More like peaceful. He could really use some peace in his life, too. Long term.
However, the serene silence ended when a phone rang.
“That’s mine.” She got up.
“Check and make sure it’s not Mark before you answer it,” he said and lifted his head to watch her walk naked across the room to where she’d left her clothes.
“I will.” She pulled the phone from her jeans and checked the number. For a second, she studied it as if she didn’t recognize it. Then she looked up. “Oh, it’s Mrs. Lamb.”
“Hello,” Sheri answered and looked back. When she saw him appreciating her body, she moved in and snagged part of the sheet to cover herself.
He frowned.
“Yes,” Sheri said. “Really?”
Sheri looked at Danny as if confused and put her hand over her phone. In a low voice, she asked, “Did you send something to—”
He nodded. “I forgot to tell you. I sent flowers. For the dinner. I put your name on them, too.”
She moved her hand. “Well, I’m glad you got them.” Sheri smiled at Danny and mouthed the words, thank you.
He leaned back on his pillow and watched her talk. The sheet slipped, and he saw her left breast. He wondered if she had a clue how damn gorgeous she was.
She looked up at him, saw where his gaze lingered and covered herself. “No, not on vacation. Just staying at a friend’s. Did you need anything?”
Something warm filled his chest just listening to her talk to her elderly neighbor. The only people he’d known who were this considerate of others were Anna and his aunt and uncle.
When he saw her expression turn to worry, that warm feeling faded.
“What did he look like?” Sheri asked and looked up at him.
Danny sat up, pretty sure he understood the conversation.
“Did he look like he was trying to sell something?” Sheri asked.
She paused and shook her head at him. “Okay.”
“Yeah, I’ll see you soon. And if you need anything . . . make sure you call me. Okay.”
She hung up.
“Someone looking for you at your place?” he asked.
She nodded. “A man. He had a hat on so she couldn’t tell me his hair color, but she said he wasn’t as big as you. She asked him if he wanted to leave a note or anything, but he said no and left.”
Danny frowned and sat up a little. “Do you know if your condos have cameras?”
“I’ve never seen them or heard anything about them.”
“I’m going to have to talk to her and get a description,” he said.
“Tomorrow, right? It’s too late now. She said she was about to go to bed.”
Tonight would have been better, but he agreed. She moved over and snuggled up next to him.
He wrapped his arm around her. Having her naked beside him felt so damn right.
“I want this over with,” she muttered.
“Me, too,” he said and felt his abs tighten at the thought that someone who wanted to kill her was still out there.
That was something he had to remedy, and remedy fast.
• • •
The next morning, Danny was in his office and had just hung up with the florist, sending Sheri flowers and something a little sweet. It was one of his most brilliant ideas. He sat there staring at the papers on his desk, imagining her getting the delivery. A smile whispered across his lips.
She’d made a big deal about him sending Mrs. Lamb flowers. He realized he should probably do the same with her. And he wanted to get her a belated birthday present, but he didn’t have a clue what to get her.
The thought hit to call Chloe and ask her for some ideas. He started to pick up his phone when something caught his eye.
He glanced up to find both Cary and Turner standing in his doorway.
“What?” he asked, when he saw the smirks on their faces.
“You can’t blame him,” Cary said to Turner. “It’s been a while since he’s had any.”
Danny frowned. “Cut the crap,” he said.
“You’re smiling for no reason,” Cary said and looked at Turner. “He’s got it bad.”
“At least he’s not going around humming like you,” Turner said.
“I did not hum,” Cary said.
“Aren’t you guys supposed to be working?” Danny asked.
“We are.” Turner pushed past Cary to come inside. “We just heard that Kevin Vey and Caroline Williams both passed their lie-detector tests.”
“Shit!” Danny said and ran a hand through his hair.
“Good news is,” Turner added, “the FBI have for sure pulled out of the case.”
“Supposedly, their bomb expert is backtracking. The bomb in the UPS truck isn’t from the same guy. Oh, and I just got a call from Patrick Owens, and he’s coming down.”
Danny tried to find comfort in that, but of all the guys, Patrick was the one he felt less likely to be guilty. The man had been dating her when the hit was first contracted . . . and unfortunately, from what he saw that day at her house, the relationship had been progressing along.
Why would the guy want to hire someone to take her out?
Danny recalled Turner saying that Chase had spoken with his wife, which meant the guy was probably a piece of shit. But that didn’t actually give him a motive.
“Let me know when he’s here,” Danny said and looked at his phone to see the time. He’d called Mrs. Lamb and told her he’d be by after lunch to visit but she wasn’t home. He didn’t leave a message.
He still wasn’t sure what he was going to tell her about Sheri’s situation. He didn’t want the woman panicking.
Cary spoke up. “Chase also suggested that maybe he should talk to Sheri.”
“About what?”
“Just to see if he might juggle her memory about who else might be responsible for this.”
“He thinks she’s hiding something from me?” Danny asked, insulted.
“He didn’t say that, but . . . he sort of insinuated that maybe since you two are seeing each other, she might not want to tell you about everything.”
“That’s bullshit.” Danny picked up a pen and tapped it on his desk.
“I told him as much. Sheri’s not the type to have secrets. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t piss without telling my wife. But I told Chase I’d mention it to you. And what would it hurt if he talked to her?”
“Nothing,” he snapped, but he still didn’t like it.
“Not to change the subject,” Turner spoke up, “but Reese wants to have everyone over to the house this Sunday.” He studied Danny. “Sheri, too.”
“I’ll check with her,” Danny said.
“And I’ll check with Chloe,” Cary said.
Turner ch
uckled. “She said she wanted to congratulate the lady who brought down the last No Ball and Chain Gang member.”
“Just leave,” Danny growled and waved them away.
They did leave, but Danny couldn’t help but chew on the obvious. Sooner or later, if he and Sheri continued—and he planned to make sure they did—he really might be talking about marriage.
His stomach muscles knotted, his chest tightened and the back of his neck suddenly started itching. Would the idea of it ever stop making him feel sick?
• • •
Sheri was on fire today. She’d made her client phone calls that morning and had finished the press release for the shelter—which rocked, by the way. By noon, she’d also sent out emails and made a few phone calls to set up Chloe’s signings. So far she hadn’t really set up anything, but she had a few bites. She’d also gotten a little interest from a couple of stores about hosting her new client for signings. It wasn’t an easy sale. Bookstores only really wanted to host big names, but that was what Sheri did. Made the impossible happen. That’s why she earned the big bucks.
Now all she had to do was call Chloe’s publisher and set a fire under them to give her the list of places they’d sent press releases to. Then Sheri could get it to all the newspapers and magazines they’d neglected. Not that it was hard to sell Chloe. She’d hit The New York Times on her last three books.
With luck, she might even get those letters written and sent out.
Today, no project seemed too big.
Amazing what good sex could do to your mood and productivity.
She dropped on the sofa and picked up her phone to call Chloe’s publisher. A thought hit.
It wasn’t just the sex.
It was . . . Danny. It was that amazing feeling bubbling up inside her.
It was . . . happiness. It was . . . joy.
It was . . .
Shit!
It was . . . love.
She loved Danny.
Oh, she wanted to deny it.
But she’d only be lying to herself.
She was in love with Danny Henderson—a proclaimed commitment-phobe. Well, he didn’t proclaim it, but his cousin did.
She picked up her phone and dialed Chloe.
“Tell me something wonderful,” Chloe said.
“I’m in love with Danny. What the hell am I going to do?” She popped up and walked the length of the room. She stopped at the television console. The Christmas cards from Danny’s mother caught her attention.
An overwhelming anger flared up inside her at Danny’s mother. How could she have hurt her son like that?
Sheri inhaled, feeling the anger sting her eyes.
“Did you hear me?” Sheri asked.
“Yeah, I’m just trying to figure out what to say,” her friend said. “What I can tell you is that Cary swears Danny’s in love with you, too.”
“Do you think he’s right?” Sheri asked.
“I think he knows Danny better than anyone.”
“I’m scared, Chloe.”
“Love’s always scary,” Chloe said.
They talked a few more minutes until her phone dinged with an incoming call.
“I’d better answer that. I have a few calls out to bookstores.”
“Sheri Thompson,” she answered in her professional voice without seeing the number.
“Hey, hon. Where are you?” her mother asked.
“Uh. At home,” she lied and flinched doing it.
“Then why aren’t you opening your door?”
Busted! So busted.
“I’m sorry,” Sheri said.
“About?”
“I . . . lied. I’m not home.”
“You’re still at Danny’s?” her mom asked.
“Yeah,” Sheri said.
“Is that wise?”
“Wise?” Sheri asked.
“I mean, you two have only been dating a few weeks. Too much togetherness can backfire, can’t it?”
Great. All she needed was for her mother to start feeding her insecurities.
“We’re fine.”
“Okay,” her mom said. “I just wanted to check in.”
This time Sheri heard the lie in her mother’s voice. She’d called to see if Sheri had read her father’s letter. And Sheri really needed to do that.
Amazingly, a knock came at the door. She sent up a silent thank you. “Uh, someone’s at the door, Mom. Can I call you later?”
“Yeah,” her mom said. “We’re still on for tomorrow night, right?”
Sheri frowned and remembered the ceremony. “Yeah. Talk to you later.” She went to the door and looked through the peephole. A woman stood there holding two baskets.
Sheri opened the door.
“Sheri Thompson?” the woman asked.
“Yeah,” Sheri said.
“This is for you. And this is for you.”
Sheri looked down and immediately laughed and got tears in her eyes at the same time. Not so much at the bouquet of flowers. It was at the bouquet of cookies. All of them were black and whites.
• • •
Danny sat at his desk waiting. They’d said the delivery would be made at twelve thirty. It was almost one now.
Would Sheri call him? Should he call her?
He’d gotten his panic under control and pushed aside the marriage thoughts. It was silly really. They’d just started dating.
He needed to enjoy what they had and not worry about where it was going. No one was tossing out the L word. They were just in serious lust and like.
The serious kind. But a long way from love and marriage talk.
“Hey,” Turner appeared at his door. “Patrick’s here. Chase is already in with him. Something’s not right.”
“What’s not right?”
“Our guy is claiming he doesn’t know a Sheri Thompson.”
“Bullshit. Because he’s married now he wants to deny it?” Danny started into the interrogation room, and Turner caught him. “No, take a look at him first.”
Frowning, Danny shot into the connecting room where he could see the guy.
“This guy is just blowing smoke up Chase’s ass.” He went straight to the window and stared at the man sitting at the table beside Chase.
He looked back at Turner, who’d followed him in. “That’s not him.”
Turner shook his head. “You said Patrick Owens. A plumber. There was only one Patrick Owens who’s a plumber in the Glencoe and Hoke’s Bluff area. And you’re looking at him.”
• • •
Danny, realizing he hadn’t brought his phone, hurried back to his office to call Sheri. When he walked in, the sound of his phone ringing filled his ear.
He grabbed it and checked the number.
Sheri.
“Hey,” he said, upset that the conversation he’d planned with her wasn’t going to happen.
“I just got the most beautiful flowers and . . . some cookies.” She laughed.
He smiled. Maybe he’d get a little of the conversation he’d been wanting. “I hope you save me one.”
“Oh. There’s one with your name on it.”
He laughed and then remembered the reason he’d headed back here to call her. “Uh, not to spoil the moment, but . . . I got a problem.”
“What?” she asked.
“Patrick Owens?”
She hesitated. “What about him?”
He dropped down in his chair.
“He’s here.” Danny said.
“And?” she asked.
“It’s not the same Patrick Owens.”
There was another pause. “What do you mean?”
He hated doing this, but what choice did he have? “I mean the guy here claims to be Patrick Owens, owner of Owens’ Plumbing. And it isn’t the same guy who was at your house the other day.”
“How is that possible?”
He didn’t answer.
“Crap. You think he lied about who he was?”
He didn’t like the distres
s in her voice. “It’s a possibility.” A probability, actually.
“I’m never dating again!” she said.
He hoped the hell not!
“When he told you his name, did he . . .” How did he ask this?
“It has to be him,” she said. “He drove a truck with the name plastered on the front of it for the first few weeks we dated.”
“Okay,” Danny said, knowing that was important.
“Did you ever happen to see his ID? Or better yet, do you have any pictures of him?”
“No,” she said.
Shit. If she’d had an image . . .
“Wait. I do have one. I was taking a picture of Taco, and he moved in the frame.”
“That’s really good,” he said. “Can you send it to my phone now?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Do you think he’s the one doing this?”
Hell, Danny didn’t know. “It’s a possibility.”
And right now he’d take that, because stopping the person who was trying to hurt her was his number-one priority.
“Send me that picture, right now.”
Chapter Twenty-five
“You did good,” Danny muttered to Sheri as if she could hear it.
The picture came in three minutes after he hung up. It was not only good enough to use as identification, but in the background was the truck with Owens’ Plumbing on it. And the guy Sheri thought was Patrick had a shirt on with the Owens’ Plumbing logo.
Danny would bet his right testicle this man worked for Owens.
Starting down the hall, he considered calling Chase to tell him what he had. But no. This was going to be interesting.
He walked into the interrogation room that also held their sergeant. Chase looked at Danny as if requesting he leave. Not this time.
“Mr. Owens,” Danny said. “I get that you’ve been brought down here for reasons you don’t think hold water.”
“Exactly,” the man said.
“Tell me,” Danny asked. “Do you have trucks with your name on them?”
“I have a business, so yes. Why?”
“How many do you have?”
“Three. But one’s not here at the moment.” The man frowned.
Divorced, Desperate and Daring Page 25