The Set Up

by Kim Karr

  “Listen,” she tells me, her body shaking, “I spoke with Tom just before the incident. He told me he overheard a conversation at Hank’s office, and that you had somehow gotten information that could look very bad for him, and that it was misleading. He just wanted those documents back. He felt they were his, after all.”

  “He broke into my apartment and tried to kill me when I walked in on him looking for those documents, did he tell you that?”

  She shakes her head no. “I never spoke with him after that conversation.”

  “Well, he did try to kill me.”

  “I’m not disputing that. But he is the one who died.”

  “Because of what he did,” I say sharply.

  Ignoring that very real fact, she goes on to say, “Charlotte, there is something going on. Something far beyond what you think. There’s too much at stake for so many people. Please destroy whatever evidence you think you have.”

  So she does know there is more than just something that could make him look bad, and obviously so did Tom. It has to be able to do more than make him look bad. It must make him look guilty. That is what he was doing at my apartment, shredding whatever he could find, as if he could destroy it all.

  She goes on. “You have to stay away from Hank Harper, or anyone he is close with, which includes that troublemaker boy from next door.”

  Anger bubbles through my veins. “Don’t talk about Jasper.”

  She nods, conceding.

  A nod isn’t enough. “You don’t get to talk bad about him.”

  “Very well,” she says.

  I swipe at a stray tear.

  Shocking me, she reaches over and places her hand on my knee. “There are so many things I want to tell you, Charlotte, but now is not the time. You might not believe me, but I have always loved you. I just couldn’t take care of you the way you needed, and especially not with your father as my husband. I have many regrets in my life, and how I left you will always weigh heavily on my shoulders.”

  Finding the courage to stop her, I raise my hand, showing her my palm. “Please, please don’t do this. Don’t apologize like an I’m sorry can make up for everything.”

  Dropping her cigarette to the ground, she stands and puts it out with her sole. Her red sole. Thanks to Eve Harper, I know she’s wearing a pair of Louboutins.

  Seems fitting.

  Nice shoes is what she got out of life instead of me.

  “I know I hurt you,” she says standing over me.

  I look at her. “Hurt me? Are you kidding me? I was a little girl who needed her mother. You crushed me.”

  She hands me a card. “This is my address and phone number. If you ever need anything, or just want to talk, I’m here for you.”

  I stare at the smooth linen card scrolled in gold, but don’t take it.

  She shoves it inside the purse I have on the ground beside my feet. “It was good to see you, Charlotte. Please remember what I said,” she tells me and then heads toward the corner and stops at the red light along with the cars.

  Shaking, I stare at the card for at least two long minutes. When I look toward the corner, I see her getting into a cab. Then she’s gone and I’m left sitting here with my insides torn apart. Melancholy coils around my heart and I try hard to unwrap it.

  Reverting to old habits, faster and faster my fingers twirl in my hair.

  She’s gone. Forget about her. Anything she said was to make herself feel better.

  Time passes. I have no idea how long I sit here as I watch the cars go by and replay this encounter with my mother a thousand times in my head.

  Ring. Ring.

  The sound of my cellphone has me jumping off the bench. Fumbling through my bag, I find it and see Jasper’s name flashing on the screen.

  I take in a deep breath and answer it. “Hi.”

  “Hey, where are you?”

  “Are you back so soon?”

  “Yah, I’ve been back for a while, and I was starting to get worried about you.”

  A gust of wind blows my hair in my face. “I’m across the street sitting in the park, trying to get some work done.”

  “Oh yeah, are you?”

  Feeling a little off kilter, I’m not following him. “Am I what?”

  He gives me a half-hearted laugh. “Never mind. Just stay there. I’ll be right down.”

  The line goes dead.

  Shoving my laptop away, I try to collect myself before he arrives. Breathing in and out, I count the cars that pass. Soon enough, that long, lean body is striding my way. With his tousled hair and long bangs, he could have been a model for Abercrombie and Fitch.

  He catches me staring at him and deliberately struts like he’s on the catwalk. He’s carrying a bag in his hand and swings it back and forth. When he’s close enough, he gives me one of his smiles that makes me melt.

  The whole world is right when I’m with him, no matter how wrong parts of it are.

  Stopping in front of me, he drops the bag to the bench and reaches for my hands. I offer them to him. Tugging me to my feet, he pulls me to his lips and kisses me. Needing the feel of him, I wrap my arms around his neck. In an instant, he lifts me off the ground. It’s as if he knows how much I need him. We don’t even exchange words—we don’t have to.

  Setting me down, he says, “Hi.”

  “Hi,” I return, trying to keep my voice steady.

  In one swoop, he sits down on the bench and I’m on sitting on his lap sideways. “What’s going on? You’re upset,” he whispers.

  “How do you know that?”

  “I heard it in your voice.”

  “Something happened,” I say and let it all out. Telling him about my mother’s visit is easy. Containing my emotions isn’t. He listens. Interjects much less than I would have thought. Ignores the part about Hank. Isn’t fazed that she called him a troublemaker. I shouldn’t have told him that part, but it really bothered me. All the while, I go on and on, and he continues to listen until I have no more to say.

  A pause. A breath. A harsh word or two. And then he asks me, “Do you think it might help you if you talk to her?”

  Turning away from him, I answer, “No. There’s nothing she can say to me that could make anything right.”

  The tenderness in which he brings my head back to look at him makes my heart swell. He opens the bag at his side and pulls out something round that is wrapped in tinfoil.

  I smile. “I told you I’d be fine.”

  He unwraps it. “I know. But I also knew you wouldn’t eat. So here is a bagel sandwich, egg whites only, no ham.” He grins.

  I take it and it smells delicious. I am hungry.

  “Listen, Charlotte,” he says, “it’s your call what you do about your mother, but I can’t help but think there’s a part of you searching for what you lost. I just think telling her how you feel might help you find it. That’s all.”

  Determined not to let this woman cause me another tear, I wipe the few away that escaped while I was telling Jasper about her visit, and then take a bite of my sandwich. Once I’ve chewed it, I say, “I don’t want to talk about her anymore. Take me somewhere. I want to do something fun today.”

  There’s an expression in his eyes—a cross between amusement and apprehension. “Well,there is something going on today.”

  “Let’s go,” I answer without an ounce of hesitation.

  “Hang on,” he cautions. “Have you ever heard of Jobbie Nooner?”

  I shake my head no and take another bite.

  “It’s an annual summer tradition that takes place near Gull Island. Kind of like the Mardi Gras of the Midwest, or a summerfest. Drew and Jake are headed out there, and asked if we wanted to join them.”

  “Great, let’s go,” I repeat, and wrap what’s left of the sandwich to stuff it back in the bag.

  His fingers link with mine in the one hand they can. “I have two things to ask you before we go anywhere.”

  The sexy sweetness in his face and tone is enough to ma
ke me say yes to anything he has to ask before I even know what it is.

  Jasper studies me in a serious manner.

  Sliding off his lap, I turn to face him. “What?”

  Nervously, he runs a hand through his hair. “This is going to come out all wrong. And you’re probably going to want to tell me to fuck off.”

  I furrow my brows. “First off, I never tell anyone that, and secondly, I doubt anything you’re about to say will upset me.”

  He takes my hand again and then he blurts out, “Will mentioned you were thinking about going back to your apartment today. I don’t want you going back there. If you don’t want to stay with me, let me help you get a place that is . . . safer, more secure.”

  Totally not expecting to have this conversation yet, I speak without thinking. “Right now it’s my only option. I won’t take your money and I can’t stay with you forever.”

  He fixes me with his gaze. “Then don’t stay with me. Move in with me.”

  “Wh—what?” I stutter.

  “Let me try it another way. Charlotte Lane, will you move in with me?”

  I breathe out, “You don’t mean that.”

  Inching closer to me, he says, “I never say things I don’t mean. I think you already know that.”

  For some reason I can’t say yes without knowing this is what he wants, not just what he thinks I need. “It’s too soon. We aren’t ready for something like that.”

  He sweeps the hair off one side of my neck, and his hot lips brush my ear. “We’ve known each other for twenty-eight years; if anyone is ready, we are. And besides, I’ve really gotten used to having your sexy little body sleeping next to me at night. I’m not sure I can fall asleep without your little snoring noises.”

  I shove him. “I do not snore.”

  He grabs for me and pulls me back to him.

  I swim for a minute in his gaze.

  “I’m serious, Charlotte. I want you to move in with me. When we’re together everything just feels right. This might sound selfish, but you make me want to be a better person. And if living where we work becomes an issue with the guys coming and going, we can find a temporary place until the Lightning Motors offices are built.”

  Uncertain and certain at the same time are hard feelings to navigate.

  He eyes me contemplatively. “Don’t tell me you’re going to turn me down after I poured my heart out to you?”

  He’s joking of course.

  Jasper’s fingers brush along my jaw, bringing my gaze to his. “Please,” he begs.

  When I look at him, I see brightness in his eyes. Maybe even a world where happiness comes easy. With that, saying no just isn’t an option. “Yes, Jasper. Yes, I’ll move in with you.”

  That smile he gives me lights up my world.

  Public affection isn’t normally something I’d overload on, and yet I find myself lunging for him so fiercely he winds up on his back with me lying on top of him.

  Taking my mouth, he kisses me so hard, I get lost in it.

  Nipping at my lip, he growls. “Whoa, tiger, save it for bedroom,” he teases with a light slap against my behind.

  Quickly, I sit up. “Jasper,” I admonish, even though I was the one who started it.

  At least the press has left us alone.

  Sheepishly he says, “Sorry, I can’t help myself.”

  I shake my head at him, secretly loving that he couldn’t help himself. If only I could be a tiger.

  Standing, he takes my bag and then my hand. “Come on, we have to get changed. I hope you have a bathing suit with you.”

  Walking by his side, I shake my head no. “We can make a quick stop by my apartment though.”

  “We’ll stop on the way and get you a new one. It will be quicker, and I don’t want to hear anything about it.” He waggles his eyebrows. “After all, if I buy, I get to pick.”

  I raise a brow.

  That smirk is devilish.

  Conceding has never been easier and I don’t argue. Then I remember he had two questions. While we wait for the light to turn so we can cross the street, I ask him, “What was the second thing you wanted to ask me?”

  His head tilts to the side.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Well, Jobbie Nooner can be a little crazy.”

  “I can handle crazy.”

  “Maybe insane is a better word.”

  “I can handle insane, too.”

  “Okay, so out of control is the best way to put it.”

  “Just spill it, Storm,” I grin.

  That hand is running through his hair again. “Will a lake full of topless women bother you if I promise not to look?”

  My draw drops. “Topless?”

  He nods. “It’s a boobs for beads kind of thing,” he shrugs, “But yours are the only ones I’m interested in.”

  I burst out laughing.

  This is going to be a whole lot of interesting.

  JUMP START

  Jasper

  WHAT KIND OF person willingly drives a thirty-six-foot racing machine at breakneck speed through ten-foot waves?

  The kind that isn’t put off by the possibility of smashing his nose against the steering wheel if he has to come to an abrupt stop when racing around the track—that’s who.

  Today though, Lake St. Clair tops out with uninhibiting two-foot waves at the most, and my speed is tempered by the amount of passengers on board.

  Classic Beatles is playing from the speakers on deck. Drew is leaning back in the cushions of the wraparound benches behind me with a beer in his hand. Jake and Shannon are sitting up in the sun loungers on the bow, both also with brews in hand.

  Sitting at the helm, Charlotte is standing next to me in a simple black bikini that shows so much skin it is driving me crazy, her mounds of blond curls blowing in the wind making my fingers itch to run through them, and her sunglasses preventing me from seeing her blue eyes. I wrap my arm around her and guide her to stand in front of me. “You take the wheel.”

  “I haven’t driven a boat in years.”

  Standing, I pull her even closer. My board shorts feeling tighter by the second. “It’s like riding a bike.”

  Looking over her shoulder at me, she gives me a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll give it a try,” she says.

  Just that slight touch of her lips ignites a fire that starts to flame through my veins. When she takes the wheel, my body is ablaze. Unable to keep my hands off her, I compromise my need to touch her by covering my hands over hers. The cast prohibiting me from making the full connection I’m craving. I hate that she still bears the mark of her attack. I shove that thought away.

  It’s a beautiful day, sunny as fuck and not a cloud in sight. The wind has picked up a little the further out we go, and when the softness of her hair brushes against my neck, it sends a shiver racing down my spine.

  Taking a seat in the captain’s chair, I pull her onto my lap. The slight curves of her body fit me perfectly. Unable to compromise any longer, discreetly, my hands roam her body. Sliding down her thighs, up her arms, tucking under the small fabric at her hips. I can’t help myself.

  Ten minutes or so goes by as we pass over the water like it’s a sheet of glass. I kiss her—her neck, her throat, her jaw. Take a little nip at her shoulder and then soothe it with my tongue.

  Concentrating on driving, I’m surprised when she unexpectedly tips her head back so we can kiss.

  The instant douse of arousal I feel is unlike that from the small flirtatious moves I’ve been making. This is full-out sexuality. Our lips meet, softly, gingerly. She’s sitting on my thigh, and her ass is against my cock. She shifts a little and I groan softly against the wet slide of her tongue, and all the muscles in my body knot in sweet tension. The fire in my veins bursts into flames from the slight friction, and all I want is more. The pull and push of the connection we share seems to be growing stronger every time we’re together.

  Unlatching her lips from mine, she turns back and focuses on the open wate
r.

  She feels it too.

  The tightening in my cock, the rapid beat of my pulse, and the taste of her left on my tongue puts me into a state of overdrive. I hold onto her fingers, squeeze them, press my naked chest to her bare back, and try to temper my need for her.

  Taking what I can, I then inhale a deep breath. Unable to calm the storm raging inside me, I know I have to take action. This isn’t a storm of conflict, this is one of pure male need. “You have to stand up,” I murmur into her ear.

  Again, she tips her head back. “Why?”

  “You know why.”

  The little vixen shifts a little more and grinds a little harder against my cock.

  “Behave,” I growl and quickly stand up, bringing her with me, and then I ease up on the throttle and put the cabin cruiser in neutral.

  “What’s going on? Jake asks.

  I switch the engine off. “Taking a quick dip,” I tell him as I narrow my eyes at Charlotte.

  She shrugs all innocent like.

  “Remind me to spank you later,” I whisper in her ear.

  Surprisingly, I see a thrill in her eyes.

  Waggling my brows at her, my little problem is only growing, so I quickly hop up to the side of the boat and dive into the lake. The water is fucking freezing out this far and just what I need. For now anyway.

  Splash. Splash.

  Jake and Drew are swimming beside me.

  Drew grabs me and pulls me under. When I pop up he says, “That was for the headlock earlier.” And then he places his hands on my shoulders and shoves me under again.

  Sputtering water, I yell as I come up. “Hey, what was that for?”

  “For acting like a pussy.”

  And . . . it’s on. We go dunk for dunk, over and over, until we’re both choking and gagging lake water.

  Jake’s doing the back float beside us grinning like a motherfucker.

  “You thinking what I’m thinking?” I say to Drew.

  “Damn fucking right I am,” he responds.

  Like twin sharks, we hunt him.

  When he notices, he screams like a little girl. “No. No. No. Don’t you dare.”

  And just like that we take Jake under, with Charlotte and Shannon sitting on the swim platform with their feet in the water as if nothing at all is happening.