Charlie lifted one shoulder. “Whatever. As long as he’s not getting drugs or illegal body parts, it’s cool with me. Live and let live, right?”
“Sure.” I drained my wine and pushed back from the table. “Hey, look at that. Time to open a new bottle.”
“Need help with that?” Nichelle’s tone was amused but tolerant.
I reached for the corkscrew and shook my head. “Nope, I’ve got it.” I scrambled for yet another change of subject. “So, Mrs. Mac, any more houses going up for sale? What’s the latest on Augustus Row?”
“Two more this week. I hear he’s been going door-to-door, handing out his card and putting the screws to anyone who’s reluctant to think about listing with him. But I guess he won’t have to worry about that when it comes to Norma Schmidt, huh? Did you hear she passed this morning?”
The bottle nearly slipped out of my hand. When Mrs. Mac had agreed to our girls’ night with enthusiasm, I had assumed that word of our fellow Golden Rays resident’s untimely death hadn’t yet spread. But apparently I’d been mistaken.
“I didn’t.” Feigning ignorance was my best bet. If my friend realized I’d known and hadn’t said anything to her, I’d be in deep trouble.
“Yeah. She was pretty young and healthy, too. Here I was thinking she was my biggest competition in Ms. Florida Senior Living Pageant, and then she up and kicks off.” Her face brightened. “Makes my odds even better, I guess.” She cackled and winked at me. “Hey, Jackie, you know, maybe I offed her just to make sure I win this thing.”
“Mrs. Mac!” My hand trembled a little as I tipped the bottle over her glass and then my own. “Don’t even joke about that. Poor Norma. God rest her soul.” I set down the wine and crossed myself in reflex. Mrs. Mac and Nichelle did the same, but Charlie just looked bored.
“Hey, relax, kiddo. She died of a heart attack. Although I guess I could have slipped her some digitalis or something. Does foxglove even grow in Florida, does anyone know?”
“Yep. It does.” Charlie lifted her glass and took a drink of wine. “Aunt Val grew it in her garden, in back of the bar. She never let Uncle Reg touch it, though, because she was afraid it would hurt his heart.”
“There you go.” Mrs. Mac nodded. “There’s where I got it. I convinced Charlie here to hook me up with the foxglove, and then I ground it up and put it in a cake I made for Norma. That’s me. A brutal, cold-blooded killer.”
I knew she was joking, but I also was aware, even if she was not, that Mrs. Schmidt’s demise had actually been unnatural. Hearing her joke about it made me slightly ill.
“Mrs. Mac, when did you become so callous?” I glared at her. “I thought Norma Schmidt was your friend. How can you talk like that?”
“We were never close. She had that uppity attitude because she used to play the piano in Europe. Called herself a concert pianist, but who knows? Maybe she just played bars and strip joints. There’s no telling.” Mrs. Mac grabbed a cracker and munched on it. “And when I was asked to be in the pageant this year, she got even worse. Told me I had no business participating. The nerve of her. Well, we see now who got the last laugh, huh? I’ll wave to her with my scepter once I’m crowned next week.”
I cringed, knowing my friend would regret her words when the truth came out. Or maybe not; she did seem pretty set against Mrs. Schmidt, even though I myself never remembered her being snooty or condescending. Still, the residents at Golden Rays had long memories—well, some of them did, anyway—and most had known each other for many years, some from even before they’d relocated here to sunny Florida. Maybe Mrs. Schmidt had mellowed by the time I’d made her acquaintance.
Charlie was observing with interest the exchange between my elderly friend and me, her eyes darting back and forth between us. “How long have you two known each other, anyway? When I first got here, I thought she—” She pointed at Mrs. Mac. “—was your grandma.”
“No.” Mrs. Mac smiled at me fondly and squeezed my hand. “But I’ve known Jackie here as long as her own grandmother did. Longer, I guess, since Maureen’s passed and I’m still kicking.”
“My Nana and Mrs. Mac were childhood friends,” I explained. “They grew up together, and they even got married right around the same time.”
Mrs. Mac nodded. “And when my sweet Billy was killed in Korea, Maureen adopted me into her own family. She was the best friend any woman could want. More like a sister.”
“They actually moved down here at the same time.” I remembered how sad I’d been when Nana had announced her intentions to relocate to Florida after I’d graduated from high school. But she and Mrs. Mac had been so excited when they’d bought neighboring houses, that I’d managed to put on a happy face for their benefit.
“Why didn’t you and Jackie’s Nana just live together?” Nichelle shifted, curling her legs up beneath her. “I always wondered that, ever since I’ve known you.”
“Eh, Maureen and I were close, and we loved each other, but we also needed space. We were smart enough to know that. Also, we both had love lives, and that can get awkward, you know. Sometimes you’re caught up in the heat of the moment and you don’t notice the sock on the door. It might have been embarrassing.”
I knew my face was red. “Mrs. Mac, really? I don’t want to think about you and Nana having love lives, okay? As far as I know, you both went to Mass every morning and sat together to knit every night. That’s my fantasy, anyway. Please don’t destroy it.”
“Oh, honey.” She sighed. “Someday you’re going to be my age, and I hope to heaven that you have the same kind of life I do. I hope you and Lucas are still sneaking between your houses, still getting it on in your car out in the driveway like you did that one night—”
“What?” Nichelle and Charlie both shrieked the word in unison. Charlie looked horrified, but Nichelle’s face was alight with humor and anticipation.
I covered my eyes. “Mrs. Mac, I thought we agreed we’d never speak of that.”
She blinked in pseudo-innocence. “Oh, I thought you’d told Nichelle about it. And if Charlie is going to be here for long, she’s likely to hear about your shenanigans. Better we tell her than she finds out on the streets.”
“Or we could just forget it ever happened and change the subject.” I thought that was a good suggestion, but the rest of them acted as though I hadn’t spoken.
“Dish us all the dirt, Mrs. Mac.” Nichelle leaned forward, resting her chin in her hands. She shot me a withering glance. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this, Jackie.”
“Well, it was right before the Perfect Pecan Pie Festival, and I was just getting out of bed and making coffee, when Mrs. Ackers from down the street knocked on my back door—”
As if on cue, there was a sharp rap on the window of my kitchen door at the same time as it opened. Lucas stuck his head inside. “Hey. Is it safe for me to come in? I don’t want to interrupt any girl stuff.”
Nichelle made a shooing motion with her hand. “Go away. Mrs. Mac was about to tell us the story of you and Jackie in your car. You know, when you two got down and funky in the backseat.”
“Actually, according to Mrs. Ackers, all of the good stuff went down in the front seat.” Mrs. Mac put in helpfully.
“Oooooh, speaking of going down . . .” Nichelle laughed, a wicked glint in her eyes.
“Lucas, come inside.” I stood up and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward me. It felt as though it had been a long time since the two of us had been together, even though it had been just three days. “Welcome home. Are you all right? Do you want something to drink?”
At the table behind me, Nichelle snorted. I ignored her and stepped closer to my boyfriend. His arms slid around my waist, wrapping me in his warmth, and I rested my forehead on his shoulder.
“I missed you.” Lucas’s whisper brushed over my ear. “Come home with me?”
I only hesitated a moment. “Okay.” Pressing my lips to his neck, just beneath his jaw, I inhaled, breathing in the scent I c
raved. “Just let me get rid of the peanut gallery.” I paused. “Do you think Mrs. Mac will be okay if we leave her alone?”
He shrugged. “We’ll be right next door, and Charlie is going to be here, even after Nichelle goes home. Everything will be fine.”
“Just where do you think you’re going?” Mrs. Mac called out as Lucas and I headed toward the door. “What about girls’ night?”
“Go on without me.” I tossed the words over my shoulder. “If you’re just going to be talking about me anyway, I might as well leave you to it.”
“She’s not wrong.” Mrs. Mac pursed her lips and nodded. “It’ll be easier to tell you the story without her moaning and groaning all through it anyway.” She waved at me. “Off you go. But do try to make it inside to lover boy’s bedroom this time. Poor Mrs. Acker’s heart probably wouldn’t recover a second time.”
I blew out a huff of breath. “Come on, Lucas. Let’s go before she can mortify both of us more than she has.”
“Have fun!” Mrs. Mac called out.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Nichelle added. “Oh, wait . . . I think you already did.”
Ignoring all of them, Lucas and I stepped outside into the night and fled for the sanctity of his silent house.
“GOD, I MISSED you.”
The minute we were inside his dark kitchen, Lucas swung me back against the door, framing my face with his wide hands and grinding his hips into mine. His mouth was on me, forcing my lips open as his tongue thrust inside me.
My own desire flared in response to his, and I raked my fingers through his hair, pulling him even closer. The tips of my breasts crushed into his chest, making me hyper-aware of each spot where our bodies touched. I felt as though I couldn’t get close enough to him.
When I had to tear my mouth away to suck in a breath, Lucas tugged down the neckline of my shirt until it was below my boobs. With fingers that weren’t quite steady, he curled his fingers into the cups of my bra and yanked them lower, nudging my breasts out into prominence.
“I missed you, too. And—ohhhhh.” I ended on a moan as his mouth closed around my nipple. “I missed this, too. But are you okay? You’re very . . . ummm . . .” My mind went blank as pleasure flooded my senses. “Intense.”
“Yeah. I feel very . . . intense. I want you, baby. I want you now, and I want you hard. I want you to ride me rough when I take you right here.”
He reached between us, fumbling with the button on my shorts while I unfastened his jeans. Lucas exhaled long when his hard shaft was free and in my hand.
“I need to taste you.” Before I could take that in, Lucas grasped my wrists and lifted them up over my head. Holding himself in the other hand, he canted his hips, thrusting into me. I cried out, completely taken over by the assault of sensations, the pleasure of our joining. He pressed one insistent finger between us, rubbing the sensitive button of nerves that drove me over the edge of insanity.
As I arched, Lucas bent, fastening his mouth onto my nipple again and then, as I hit my peak, his teeth sank into the soft skin on the side of my breast. The sharp pain mingled with my climax, making both somehow more vivid. I could feel Lucas drinking from me, taking the strength that it seemed only I could give him, and it was exhilarating. It made me feel powerful and wildly feminine, like some kind of earth mother feeding her warrior.
When he wrenched away, I knew it had taken great effort for him to stop. He kissed me again, his tongue seeking mine. I tasted metal when he stroked against me, as though I’d bitten my lip.
“Jackie.” Lucas skimmed his lips to my ear, his breath warm on my neck even as he continued to move inside me. “I love you, baby.”
“Love you, too.” I barely ground out the words before he roared to his own orgasm, pushing into me until I came again, too, pulsing around him, every nerve ending alive and throbbing.
I slumped against Lucas, boneless in the wake of bliss. He caught me, and the two of us sank to the cool tile floor, our clothes still disheveled, pulled up or pushed out of the way. He held me on his lap as we caught our breath, coming down from the high of each other.
“You know, I hate it when you’re gone,” I murmured into his shirt. “But if this is how we celebrate your homecomings, maybe I can learn to adjust.”
He shook a little, laughing. “Sorry about that. I guess I got a tad carried away. I was just so happy to see you. And after everything that went down this week, I think I needed a reminder of what’s real and what’s important.”
“Things were rough at Carruthers?” I tried to keep the edge of hurt out of my voice. Usually, when Lucas made a trip up north to Harper Creek, the headquarters of Carruthers Initiative Institute, I went along with him. Now that I was officially a part-time agent, too, at the request of Cathryn Whitmore, I expected that our visits would become more frequent. I wasn’t sure why Lucas had left without me this time.
As if he were ripping a page out of Cathryn’s book—she could hear thoughts—Lucas sighed and rubbed small circles on my back. “I didn’t know I was going to be up there for more than just a quick meeting with Rafe. I would’ve suggested you ride up with me, but with Charlie living with you, I wasn’t sure it was a good idea for you to leave town just now.”
“Ah.” I nuzzled his neck. “But I thought one of the points of having Charlie stay with me was so that I could be free to concentrate on our saving-the-world gig. Didn’t you say that? Or am I remembering it wrong?”
“That’s what I said, yeah, but I thought maybe we should let her settle in and get used to everything before you took off. And since nothing’s sure with her yet, leaving her alone in your house seemed a bit premature.”
“You’re probably right.” I thought about my conversation with the younger woman earlier that day. “She doesn’t seem to be very clear about what she wants to do. Except that she knows I have sucky knives and she wants to bring her own over.” I sniffed. “Oh, and she has a car that’s still over at her uncle’s bar.”
“That’s something. Did she say anything about her plans?”
I shook my head. “Not really. Hell, I only got her to come out of the guest room today. I told her that she’s welcome here as long as she wants to be with us, but I honestly have no idea about what’s going on in her head. It’s up to her, anyway. All we can do is offer her a safe place to be, but she’s the one who has to decide if she wants to stay or if she plans to move on. Right?”
“Uh huh, I guess.” Lucas frowned, a line forming between his eyes.
“Hey.” I traced one finger over his forehead. “What aren’t you telling me about the whole Charlie deal? I can tell you’re holding something back.”
“Not really.” He caught my hand in his and brought my fingertips to his lips. “I don’t know what it means, exactly. That’s why I haven’t said anything. Plus, I guess I was hoping you’d like Charlie so much that it wouldn’t matter.”
A chord of foreboding struck in my gut. “What wouldn’t matter?”
Lucas kissed the center of my palm. “What the advocate for light said the day her uncle Reg died. During the Reckoning, when Charlie had gone off to call the paramedics, the advocate told me that Charlie was important. I thought he meant to the fight that’s coming, but he said no.” Absently, he rubbed his chin over my hair. “The advocate said that she was important to you and me. He used the word . . . bundle. He said Charlie’s part of our bundle, the people who we’re meant to watch over. She’s supposed to be in our lives.”
I smirked. “Is this some kind of test for us? To see if we’re worthy to win the war against evil? Because Charlie’s not exactly an easy person to have around. She’s either holed up in a room alone, or she’s sullen and sulky. Or she’s complaining about something.” Sniffing, I added, “And she insulted Nana’s knives.”
“Ah.” Lucas was trying not to smile, I could tell. “Yeah, that’s crossing a line, for sure. You didn’t use one of Nana’s knives on her after that, did you?”
“No.�
�� I let my eyes slide closed, relaxing against him. “Because they really aren’t sharp enough to do any real damage. But still, it’s the principle of the matter.”
“She’s definitely prickly.” His arms tightened around me. “But I think that’s because she’s defensive. She might need a lot of affirmation before she trusts us enough to let us in. I get the feeling that the rest of the world hasn’t done a great job of that. I mean, look at her history. Her parents run off before she’s old enough to remember them. Her aunt, the only family she has, dies when she’s a teenager. And then Reg is all she has. If you could’ve heard her crying that morning when he died . . . I know she’s been stoic ever since, but I really think her heart is broken.”
Now I felt guilty for all the uncharitable thoughts I’d been having. “If you’re looking to convince me that I need to be more understanding . . . yeah, you’re on the right track. I guess I can see how someone like Charlie might need two someones like us.”
“And not just us.” Lucas stroked one hand down my arm. “We have this whole set of people around us who would be happy to include her as one of our . . . tribe, I guess you could call it. Mrs. Mac, Nichelle, Mary and everyone at the diner . . . even Cathryn, Rafe and Nell.”
That reminded me of something that had been niggling at the back of my mind. “If Charlie’s going to be around a lot, though, how do we plan to explain the whole Carruthers situation? And you? I had to scramble to try to come up with a good reason for why Nichelle makes deliveries to you. If Charlie happens to walk in on you sucking down a bag of blood, you’re going to have to do some fancy tap dancing.”
“I thought about that. It shouldn’t be a problem for the time being. I mean, I drink the blood over here, not at your house, and I can be discreet. The bigger issue is what to tell her when I get called to a Reckoning. That’s one thing we can’t control.”
Death Over Easy Page 4