Veil of Lies

by Nicky Charles

  “Then it’s our special memory.” She grinned and climbed back on the freshly made bed.

  He sat down beside her, his smile fading as he cupped her face. “The way you can laugh and take everything in your stride, it’s one of my favourite things about you.”

  “Lemons and lemonade; it’s what I do.” She laced her fingers behind his neck. “Now, if you’re still in the mood…?”

  He kissed her long and slow and deep. “Oh, I most definitely am.”

  “Good. Now, where were we?” She trailed her hands down his chest towards his waist.

  “I believe I was about to nibble on your neck.”

  “And I was thinking we needed to get rid of these jeans.” She reached for his zipper, slowly easing it down over the tantalizing bulge until he suddenly stood up and finished the job. “Hey, I was going to do that,” she protested.

  “Next time, I promise, but for now, we’ve had too many delays.” He tossed his denims on the floor and, in a blur of movement stripped her of her panties, flipped onto his back and pulled her down on top of him where they became lost in the haze of desire once again. The scent of him surrounded her, the taste of his salty skin, the rumble of his approval as she stroked his muscular form, giving him pleasure until he hissed a curse and flipped them over.

  When he rose over her, the sight of him reminded her of a conquering hero, dark hair spilling about his face, his gaze hot and possessive.

  “I need you.” She kissed him hard.

  “I need you, too.” He kissed her back. “Protection?”

  Damn, she wasn’t on the pill anymore but…she spied the box of tampons on her dresser, did a quick calculation and mentally shrugged. “It’s safe.” She slid her arms around him, down his back to his hips, urging him on, unable to wait a minute longer, gasping as he joined them as one.

  It was better than she’d imagined, feeling his hot length stroking her, his body moving with hers. She whimpered her pleasure, her nails scoring his back, her entire being focused on the man looming over her, possessing her, driving her to the heights of ecstasy.

  “Oh Armand! Don’t stop, don’t stop… I need…”

  “I know,” he growled the words as his teeth raked her neck, his arms gathering her closer, each thrust impossibly deeper until she was sure they’d merged into one body.

  Her vision blurred, muscles tensed. She hovered on the brink, unable to think or speak, consumed with the complete perfection of the moment until it exploded leaving her breathless and sated.

  Dimly, she was aware that his control was also unravelling, the wild man taking over as he found his own release before collapsing on her.

  As she stroked his broad back, a languid smile drifted over her face and she sighed contentedly. Sex had never felt as right as this.

  Somewhere in Chicago…

  “You found it?”

  “Yeah. Just took a bit of searching.”

  “Good. I can’t believe we almost lost it.”

  “We? Do I have to keep reminding you, you’re the one who messed up? Not me.”

  “We’re a team. We win together, and we lose together.”

  “Right.” A snort accompanied the comment then silence filled the room as the box in the middle of the table was opened, the contents dumped, scattered over the surface but…

  “It’s not there!”

  “What? Are you sure?” The box was grabbed, shaken and then ripped apart.

  “Dammit, you got the wrong box.” A hand was slammed down on the table to punctuate the words.

  “No! That’s impossible!”

  “You should have checked! Now what the hell are we going to do?” Fingers were dragged through hair as anxious pacing began.

  “I—”

  “This won’t look good when I have to explain the reason we still don’t have the goods is because of your foul-up.”

  “My foul-up? What happened to the ‘we’re a team’ pep talk you were giving a minute ago?”

  “Shut up. Just shut the fuck up!” The remains of the box were crumpled and thrown across the room.

  Chapter 11

  Armand woke with a start, his bear warning him there was someone in the apartment. At his side, Lucy was sleeping soundly, her cheek resting on his shoulder, one arm slung across his chest, her leg over his. He eased away and stood up. In the darkness of the room, his pants weren’t immediately visible so he snagged Lucy’s bathrobe and wrapped it around his hips, then walked quietly to the door.

  Yes, someone was definitely in the apartment and shuffling things about in the bathroom. He tried to scent the air with no luck; his head was still congested from the lilac fabric softener. It was unlikely the thief had returned, however he’d sleep better after checking to be sure.

  Opening the door, he slid into the hallway. Light spilled from the bathroom and, sure enough, there was someone crouched on the floor in front of the vanity but not a thief. It was Roxi.

  She looked up, “Hey, Armand…” Her voice trailed off as she studied him. “Pink and white flowers? That’s quite a bold fashion statement.”

  He hitched the robe more securely around his waist. “This? It’s just something I threw on.”

  Cocking her head, she pursed her lips and studied him carefully before shaking her head. “I hate to tell you but, even with your sexy French accent, that pattern is too small for you to carry off with any panache.”

  “Vraiment? Really?” He struggled to keep a straight face. “And I chose it specifically for the occasion.”

  “I have a couple of fashion magazines you can borrow.”

  “Merci. Next time, I’ll consult them first.”

  She laughed and sat down on the floor, leaning back against the side of the tub. “So, you and Lucy were getting it on? I’m glad I wasn’t home. From the looks of the place, things got pretty wild.”

  His smile faded. “No. Someone was in the apartment when we came home. They were searching the bathroom but escaped out the window.”

  “Someone broke in? OMG, for someone so nice, Lulu is sure having a lot of bad karma visited on her lately.” She clambered to her feet. “Was anything stolen?”

  “She doesn’t think so. For some reason, it was only the bathroom that was affected.” He scanned the mess. “Sorry, we should have cleaned up.”

  “It’s okay. I’m not the neatest person in the world and I guess you had other things on your mind.” She gave him a knowing wink. “So what did the cops say? Did they dust for prints?”

  “Uh…no.”

  “Let me guess, you didn’t call them, did you?” She folded her arms. “You and Lulu really are a pair. No cops for a mugging. No cops for a break-in. Makes me wonder what you’re hiding.” She poked her tongue in her cheek and seemed to be hinting at something.

  “We have nothing to hide.” He gave her a hard stare.

  “In that get up, you certainly don’t. Nice lickable abs, by the way. I’d love a sample.” She raked her eyes over him and smacked her lips.

  He stepped back as she exited the small room, not entirely sure she was joking. The only person he wanted licking him was Lucy.

  “Is Lulu still sleeping?”

  “She was a minute ago.”

  “Okay, I’ll be quiet.” She headed towards Lucy’s room.

  “What are you doing?” He followed behind her. The young woman was a mystery to him.

  “I need to borrow something.” She walked into the room, looked around then picked up a box off the dresser. “Auntie Flo’s paying a call.” Box in hand, she left.

  Lucy made a soft noise and sat up, rubbing her eyes. “What’s going on?”

  “Your roommate was borrowing something,” he explained.

  “Oh.”

  He climbed back in the bed and tucked her close to his side. “Your friend, Roxi, she’s not involved in anything illegal, is she?”

  “No. Of course not.” She yawned. “At least, I don’t think so.”

  “What do you mean?”


  “Well, she works at the dry cleaners and hints that she finds things in pockets…” She shrugged. “Roxi likes to tease so I’m not really sure I should believe her or not.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. She seems an unusual person.”

  “Yeah, I’d say unusual describes her pretty well.” She trailed a finger down his chest. “You aren’t as hairy as I remember. Did you get some manscaping done?”

  “Manscaping?”

  “I mean, did you shave your chest or get it waxed?”

  “No!” The very idea appalled him, but he scrambled to think how to explain the fact that, as a bear shifter, his body hair tended to change with the season. “You’ve just never been this close to me before.

  “True.” She didn’t sound convinced.

  A distraction seemed to be needed so he rolled over, pinning her beneath him and silencing any further questions with his mouth.

  Lou hummed softly to herself as she locked the door behind Armand. He hadn’t stayed for breakfast, claiming he had a distant relative who worked in construction with whom he wanted to consult so he’d be properly informed to assess the window installation later in the day. “If I have any doubts as to the quality of the work, I will ask Matthias to inspect it.”

  “I’m sure Jimmy will bring in someone who knows what they are doing,” she’d told him but he’d not been swayed. Oh well, sometimes it was easier to give in than to argue.

  Now, she stood drinking her morning coffee and dreamily recalling last night. Sex with Armand had been just as she imagined…well, except for the sneezing but that had been funny and good, too. As for waking with him beside her, there’d been a rightness to his presence, a feeling of security and contentment filling her. She could have remained snuggled to his side all day if it hadn’t been for work.

  She took another sip of coffee and watched as Roxi shuffled into the kitchen, mumbling something indecipherable.

  “You okay?”

  “Period cramps suck.” The words were accompanied with a scowl as she reached for a glass. “It’s my day off so I’m taking pain killers and going back to bed. By the way, I borrowed your tampons last night. Mine aren’t in the bathroom.”

  “Really? I saw them there the other day.”

  “Well, they’re gone now.”

  “That’s strange. Perhaps they got pushed to the back during the break-in yesterday.” She shrugged. “I’ll go look later.”

  “Or the thief was the same creep who tried the A/C scam on me the other day. Remember how I said he had a tampon fetish? I bet he came back to steal them.” She scowled. “Those things are expensive, you know.”

  She laughed. “I doubt anyone would break in to steal tampons. That’s just too weird.”

  “Hey, the world is full of weird.” Roxi filled her glass with water, popped her pills and turned to go. “Anyway, I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Oh, wait.” She set down her cup. “Jimmy will be coming by with somebody to install the new window and Armand will be back to supervise. I gave him a key.”

  “So it’s going to be a three-ring circus around here today? Damn.”

  “Sorry.”

  Roxi shook her head. “Not your fault. I’ll head over to my mother’s for the day then.”

  “I thought you just had a big argument with her?”

  “I did, but she has great herbal remedies for cramps and stuff like that.”

  “Okay, as long as you have a place to go.” Lou glanced at her watch. “I’d better finish getting ready or I’ll be late.”

  She completed her morning routine which was actually out of routine due to Armand’s presence earlier. By the time she was ready, Roxi was leaving the apartment as well.

  “Here.” Roxi tossed her a small item and she caught it.

  “What’s this?” She exited the apartment and Roxi followed, locking the door.

  “Your flash drive thingy.”

  She looked at the small device. “Flash drive? I call these things memory sticks.”

  “Really? Well, let’s combine the two and call it a memory thingy.”

  “Fine by me, but it’s still not mine.”

  “It was in your box of tampons so it must be yours. Cool hiding place, by the way.”

  “Well, it would be a pretty cool hiding place if I’d put it there, which I didn’t.”

  “Huh. I wonder how it got there then.” Roxi frowned as they walked down the stairs together.

  She shrugged and turned the device over in her hand. There was nothing identifying about it.

  “Maybe somebody at the factory dropped it in the box when the tampons were being manufactured.”

  “That’s pretty far-fetched.”

  “No, it isn’t. I’ve read about that kind of thing happening before.” Roxi pressed her point. “Bored factory workers leave a message in a product asking whoever finds it to write back. Sometimes they even leave ‘help’ messages saying they’re trapped in some kind of slave labor situation.”

  She nodded. “I guess I do remember hearing about that, but this isn’t a message.”

  “It could be, a high-tech variety.”

  They’d reached the bottom of the stairs so she shoved the device in her pocket. “Well, we can talk about it later. I hope you have a good visit with your mother and not too many arguments.”

  “It’ll be okay. Once I tell her I don’t feel well, she’ll go into full mother hen mode.” Roxi cracked her gum, gave her a mock salute and they parted ways.

  Work was wonderfully uneventful, a fact she greatly appreciated as her activities the previous night had left her short on sleep. Not that she minded. She’d gladly give up several nights of sleep if they were all the result of Armand’s skilled attentions.

  “Quit standing around mooning about your boyfriend. We’ve got customers to serve.” Gin’s sharp tones had Lou giving a start.

  “Sorry.” Realizing the pot of coffee she’d been brewing was ready, she reached for some mugs.

  “You and your new boyfriend have plans for the weekend?”

  “I don’t know. We haven’t talked about it.” She didn’t bother to correct the assumption that Armand was her boyfriend, maybe because she wasn’t exactly sure if he was or wasn’t. “We’ll probably just hang around the apartment, I suppose.”

  “You could head to the beach. The weather’s been so hot it would be nice to cool off there.” Kathy squeezed into the small area behind the lunch counter and placed her order slip where Jeff could see it. “Here you go, Jeff. Two specials, no tomato on one of them.”

  Jeff looked up from the meal he was plating and glanced at the order. “Got it, Kathy. Hey Lou, there’s an art show tomorrow at the park. It’s free.”

  “If it’s free, it’s probably crappy artwork.” Gin began to reach for the meal Jeff was now sliding across the serving counter.

  Kathy rolled her eyes.

  “Oh, while you’re all here,” Lou reached into her pocket and pulled out the memory stick. “Do any of you own this? I found it in with my stuff and wondered if you’d dropped it.”

  All three glanced at the item in her palm and shook their heads.

  “Nope.”

  “Not mine.”

  “Never seen it before.”

  “Oh. Okay.” She dropped it back in her pocket. It had been a long-shot, but she figured it couldn’t hurt to ask.

  “Quit talking and get moving. I’m not picking up your slack.” Gin shut the door on the small fridge that housed the cream and milk.

  Lou rolled her eyes at the other woman’s attitude, placed the coffee cups she’d been filling on a tray and went to take care of her customers. As she worked, she speculated about Jeff’s suggestion. An art show might be fun, and she knew Armand liked art even if his paintings weren’t very good.

  She remembered once, after a brawl in the bar, he’d been staring morosely at the broken frame of one of his pictures debating if he should hang it up a
gain or not…

  “The customers don’t appreciate my work.”

  “Well…” She wasn’t sure what to say, not wanting to hurt his feelings.

  “The Broken Antler is my home. I should decorate it as I wish, correct?”

  She’d never thought of it that way and, after a moment’s consideration, gave a nod. “You know what? You’re right. You own the place so you do what you want. It’s not as if you’re asking people to buy the paintings. It’s sort of like singing in the shower. Unless you’re forcing people to stand in the bathroom and listen, it isn’t anyone’s business. You can do something just for the joy of it, even if you suck at it.”

  He looked at her for a minute and then burst out laughing. “You’re good for my ego, Lucy.”

  She patted him on the shoulder. “I try to be.”

  The next day, the painting had once again graced the wall of the bar so he must have taken her advice. She smiled at the memory and made a mental note to try and take Armand to the art show. There was never anything remotely like that in Stump River.

  When her shift was over—later than usual due to an extended chat with one of the customers—she began to take her tips from her pocket as she always did only to pause when the rear door jerked open and Jeff the chef stomped in.

  “What’s wrong, Jeff?”

  “I…” He clamped his mouth shut and shook his head, his face flushed. “Someone stole my car! I was heading home, started to walk towards my usual parking place and...it wasn’t there.”

  “Oh no! Are you sure that’s where you parked it?”

  “Yeah. I’m sure. I always park there.”

  “Was it locked?”

  “Yeah. Or at least I’m pretty sure it was. It’s one of those things you do automatically, right?” He ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe I forgot. Or maybe they smashed the window. It was just a beat up old junker; you’d think they’d have better taste in cars to steal.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Nah. Thanks anyway. I’ll call the police, not that it will likely do any good. My car’s probably being stripped for parts as we speak.”