She bit back a smile and then remembered he hadn’t been there when she’d woken up.
“What?” His eyes searched his face.
“I wondered what had happened when you weren’t here when I woke up. I thought you’d left, left.”
“Like wham-bam, thank you, ma’am?”
She pressed her lips together when he used the exact words she’d thought. “Something like that.”
“Been a while since I’ve slept next to someone.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s my issue. I didn’t want to disturb you so I went to let the dog out and feed her.”
She nodded. It made sense, but after rehashing everything that had happened with Mark, it was too easy to assume the worst.
“You winced when we cleaned up last night. I wanted to give you a little bit of time to recover.”
“Do they teach you mind reading along with voodoo in the police academy?”
“You have very expressive eyes.”
Turning her so she was caged against the counter, he guided her head back and pressed his mouth to hers. His tongue traced the seam of her lips and she welcomed him while he invaded her and took possession of her mouth.
Her robe opened and his fingers traced the slit of her pussy. She moaned into his mouth and shifted her weight, parting her legs to allow him easier access. Arousal raced through her like a spark through a firecracker factory.
Tim took full advantage and slowly thrust two fingers into her while his thumb pressed against her clit. “I wanted to wake you up like this, but I wasn’t sure if you’d still be sore.”
Holy shit, he had magic hands. It was as if his fingers were electrified and sending small shocks through her body. “Not sore.”
Hooking her thumbs into the waistband of his shorts, she pulled them down until his erection popped free. She palmed him and ran her hand up and down his length, using her thumb to spread the bead of moisture around the head of his penis.
He thrust into her hand in time to the thrust of his fingers. “I want in you, Zoe. I want to feel you clench around my dick like I can feel you clench around my fingers.”
Her muscles spasmed involuntarily and he grinned against her mouth.
“Just like that.” He stilled and pressed his forehead against hers. “But I don’t have any condoms with me.”
She clenched her fist around him. “I have some upstairs.”
He grinned at her. “Then we should probably go upstairs.”
A small gasp escaped when he lifted her so her legs wrapped around his waist and headed to the stairs.
His dick slid between her thighs and brushed against her clit with each step. She might not even make it upstairs before she came.
Truth be told, she was glad her ex was an asshole too.
Chapter 19
Because I love books. Who wouldn’t want to work in a bookstore?
Zoe smiled at the response written by an applicant for one of the part-time sales associate positions. Who indeed? Wincing at the age of the applicant, only sixteen, she set it in the maybe pile.
She’d had a hard time working during high school to earn a little extra money and it had mostly been limited to weekends because of school and studying and sports. She’d still consider it, especially if weekends were as busy as she hoped. Haven Springs didn’t have a library and the closest one was twenty minutes away. She planned to have afternoon story time during the week for stay-at-home moms. Maybe she could do something on the weekends as well for those moms that worked.
Damn it. She pulled her planner over and jotted down a note to herself. Her list was getting longer and longer every day.
The doorbell rang and she glanced at her watch, then rubbed her eyes. She was almost cross-eyed from sifting through dozens of applications all while trying to decipher some really bad handwriting. On the one hand, a lot of applications was a good thing. On the other, it made deciding on the best ones difficult. There were several good potentials for assistant manager.
Pushing away from the table, the doorbell rang again.
“I’m coming,” she called out.
This time, she checked the peephole.
“What the hell?”
She unlocked the bolt and opened the door. “What are you doing here?”
“Did you hang up on Mamãe?” her brother demanded.
Zoe blew out a sharp breath through her nose. Of course her brother had driven almost three hours to yell at her.
“Stay out of this, João.”
“I will not stay out of this. You were disrespectful to Mamãe.” He pointed a finger at her to emphasize his point.
“She was disrespectful to me.”
“You behaved like a child.”
That was enough. From him, from her mother, from everyone. She was done letting other people think they knew what was best for her. She might make a few mistakes along the way but damn it, they were her mistakes to make.
“How did I behave like a child, João? Enlighten me. Was it when I told my mother not to tell my cheating ex how to find me?”
She planted her hands on her hips and advanced on her brother. He might have almost a foot of height on her, but her anger was bigger than his.
“Or maybe it was when I decided to finally do something for myself. Or maybe it was when I decided I didn’t want to be married to someone who thought so little of me he not only cheated, but got another woman pregnant after telling me for years he wasn’t ready for a child.”
Zoe took another step forward, not giving João a chance to talk. “I’m not Alicia. I’m not willing to turn a blind eye and look the other way while her husband continuously chooses someone else over his family.”
João flinched as if she had struck him. “What does Alicia have to do with this?”
“Seriously? You think I don’t know about the girl in Charleston? You think Alicia doesn’t know? Maybe the reason you’re so willing to defend Mark and what he did is because you’re doing the exact same thing to Alicia.
“The only thing I’m grateful for is that Mark did keep putting off having kids so they weren’t dragged through this mess. Take care of your own family before you worry about what I’m doing and stay out of my life.”
She pivoted sharply and strode back into the house, slamming the door violently behind her. Stalking into the dining room, she paced from one end to the other.
She wished she was a runner. She wished she was one of those people that could tie on a pair of running shoes and run and run until exhaustion replaced the anger.
Really, she wanted to hit something. Someone. Mark or her brother—at the moment, both would make equally satisfying targets.
Agitated energy coursed through her veins with no outlet. She shook her hands and flex her fingers. She was too keyed up to sit back down and continue sifting through applications.
Cursing her brother and her no-good ex under her breath, she stalked back into the foyer and snatched up her keys and purse from the table. Since she couldn’t calm down, she’d drive to the store and start unpacking the boxes of books that had been delivered the day prior. As exciting as it was to see actual books in her store, the thought of unpacking and sorting them all had been daunting and she’d planned to leave it until she had hired a few people. Now it seemed like just the thing she needed to get rid of all this excess energy.
Pulling the door opened, she stepped back in surprise. “Mrs…. Mrs. Wilson. Uh…can I…can I help you with something?”
Mrs. Wilson lowered the hand that had been poised to knock and folded them primly in front of her. “Zoe. It’s lovely to see you. May I come in?”
Trying to suppress her “what the fuck” expression, Zoe stepped back and opened the door. “Sure.” Que porra e essa?
Closing the door, she stood awkwardly for a moment before setting her keys and purse down.
Mrs. Wilson looked at the keys on the table. “You were leaving. I can come back another time.”
“No. Well, ye
s, but I wasn’t going anywhere specific. I was just going to drive around and clear my head.”
“If you’re sure…”
“Of course.” She led the way into the house. Why wasn’t she making excuses to get out of a conversation with Old Lady Wilson?
“Can I get you something to drink? Water or tea?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Tea, please.”
“Hot or iced?”
“Iced. It’s still unbearably humid outside. I’ll be happy when it cools off.”
Zoe made a noncommittal sound and fixed two glasses of tea. Setting one on the counter, she took a sip and stared warily through her lashes. Mrs. Wilson didn’t look as old as she remembered her. She tried to do the math in her head and realized she probably wasn’t all that much older than her own mother. When Zoe was growing up, Mrs. Wilson had always seemed ancient.
“I was watering my flowers and I saw the argument you just had. That was João, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
Mrs. Wilson sipped her tea and set the glass on the counter. “Still as hot-headed as ever, I see.”
“Mrs. Wilson, why…?” Zoe cleared her throat. “I’m not trying to be rude, but why did you come over?”
“I wanted to make sure you were all right. I couldn’t make out the conversation from across the street, but you looked very upset.”
“Oh.” The inside of her nose stung and the backs of her eyes watered. Why the hell was she tearing up? And over Old Lady Wilson, of all people, asking her if she was okay. No one had asked if she was okay in a very long time. Not really. They asked if she was sure she’d made the right decision, if she was sure if the divorce and getting out of the Air Force and starting her own business was really what she wanted to do, but no one had asked her if she was okay. Now two people had asked her in one day.
“Thank you. I didn’t think you liked me very much.”
“Why ever would you think I don’t like you?”
If the look on her face was any indication, she was truly bewildered.
“Well, because you always ratted me out to my mom and dad when we were growing up.”
“Of course I ratted you out—you were fifteen years old. You had no business sneaking out of your house to gallivant around with your sister. I didn’t want you to get in even more trouble you’d regret for the rest of your life.”
All Zoe could do was blink at her. “I was sneaking out with Gabby to keep her out of trouble.”
“Neither of you should have been sneaking out.”
Looking back at her fifteen-year-old self from the eyes of her thirty-two-year-old self, she realized how stupid she had been. Even with the excuse of trying to keep Gabby from doing something monumentally stupid, it had been a bad idea.
“I was like you, when I was younger,” Mrs. Wilson said. “Well, I was probably more like Gabby, to be honest. I had an older boyfriend, one my parents didn’t approve of. But I was in love and I ignored them, thinking I knew everything. I got pregnant and I got dumped.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to. I gave the baby up for adoption, but I’ve spent my entire life regretting how foolhardy I was. I know I might have seemed very mean to a young girl, but I truly did have your best interests at heart.”
“Well. Thank you, I guess, for looking out for us. Even if we did spend most of high school grounded.”
“You’re welcome. I think it did you a world of good. You grew into a lovely young woman.” Mrs. Wilson patted her hand. “Although I was angry when you shaved Buttface.”
“Who?”
“Buttface. My cat.”
“You named your cat Buttface?” How had she never known that? That information had to be kept from Elba. She’d never let Zoe live down shaving a cat named Buttface.
“Its name was Pebbles, but my youngest son always called it Buttface because it looked like someone smushed his nose and the name stuck.”
“It was dying of heat exhaustion.”
“He was an indoor cat. If you had brought him home, he would have been fine.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Hmm.”
She could hear Mrs. Wilson’s thoughts in that “hmm.” If Zoe had taken the cat home, she’d have known.
“Tim told me you’re opening a bookstore. What’s it called?”
Zoe smiled. Tim was talking about her to people. Well, he was talking about her to Mrs. Wilson and while it made sense to talk about one neighbor to another, he was still talking about her to people. “It’s called Book Haven.”
“I like it.” Mrs. Wilson nodded approvingly. “I like the reference to Haven Springs and the fact that books can be a haven for people. Well done.”
Damn it. Did she leave an onion out? Her nose was stinging again. A swell of pride bloomed in her chest. Elba and her small business mentor were the only ones who’d offered an encouraging word to her about her bookstore. It felt…good…to have someone commend her for her work.
“When do you open?”
Zoe took a deep breath and glanced at the calendar tacked next to her to-do list on the wall in the dining room. “Six weeks.”
Mrs. Wilson followed Zoe’s gaze. “Is that your timeline?”
“And one of my to-do lists.”
She glanced back at Zoe. “How many do you have?”
“A few,” she hedged.
“What are you working on right now?”
“I’m sifting through applications for assistant manager and booksellers.”
“Would you like some help? I worked HR for close to thirty years. I’ve been retired for several, but I can probably help you weed out the riffraff.”
Zoe’s shoulders relaxed as if someone had come along and lifted a weight off them. “I would love some help.”
“Perfect. While we’re doing that, you can tell me all about how long you and Tim have been sleeping together.”
Know what else made her nose sting? Snorting iced tea through it.
Chapter 20
“Hotel Sierra-four, respond to a five-nine-four at four-ten Ellis Street. Caller says to pull around to service alley.”
Tim glanced at Kevin and nodded at the radio. Kevin picked up the handset and responded that they were en route. Why did that address sound so familiar? As soon as he turned left onto Ellis Street, he knew—Zoe’s bookstore was four-twelve.
Easing down the side street that took him to the service entrance, he saw Zoe, Elba, and a put-out looking man standing close to the back of the building in the alleyway. As soon as he cleared the car door his gaze sought out Zoe. From the set of her mouth, she was stressed but otherwise didn’t seem upset. He swore his heart had skipped a beat when he’d realized the address given was right next door to her, even though the call was only for vandalism.
“Finally!” The man broke off from the group and strode over to them. He waved an arm toward the building. “Look at this! Look what they did.”
Tim glanced at the building. Someone had spray-painted racial and derogatory slurs down the length of the building between the two service roads. Most of the graffiti appeared to be concentrated on the bookstore and Cafe.
“George, calm down. No one was killed,” Elba said. “This isn’t an actual emergency. The only reason we even called the cops is to get a report for the insurance.”
“It’s not the point. I pay my taxes and when I call the police I expect them to arrive in a timely manner.”
Ah. He was one of those. “Sir, is one of these businesses yours?” Tim asked.
“They’re all mine.” He swept an arm out. “I own all these.”
“He owns the building, but he doesn’t do anything except gouge us on the rent.”
Tim pretended he was jotting down a note to hide his smile. He could hear Elba roll her eyes. Glancing at Zoe didn’t help—she had pulled her lips between her teeth to keep from doing the same thing.
George spun around. “I do not gouge! I charge
a very fair rate based on the location of the building and proximity to the market. Good luck finding better rates than this in this area!”
“Sir,” Tim said. “Can you give me a rundown of how you discovered the graffiti?”
“I found it, actually,” Zoe said. “I was putting boxes in the recycle bin and I saw the graffiti when I turned to go back inside. I went into the Cafe and told Elba and she called George, then we called you. Well…you know…the police.”
His lips quirked when she waved generally in his direction, a slight blush on her cheeks. The memory of her in his bed—asleep on her stomach, clutching a pillow to her with one leg hitched up—flashed through his mind and the blood flow in his body immediately diverted south. Kevin should probably interview her for the report.
“Kevin, why don’t you take Zoe’s statement? I’ll take Elba’s and then we can take Mr….?” He raised his eyebrows at George.
“Baker. George Baker.”
“Mr. Baker and then we’ll talk to the other store managers.”
“Elba?” He cocked his and had her follow him away from Zoe while Kevin pulled her off to the other side.
“Why aren’t you taking Zoe’s statement?” she asked.
He cleared his throat. Because all I can think about his bending her over the hood of the cruiser while I show her my night-stick. Holy fucking cliché.
“I’m sure you know we’re…uh…exploring something personal. It wouldn’t be professional for me to ask her questions in an official capacity.”
“It’s graffiti, not a murder scene.”
“Yes, but I don’t want there to be any perception of impropriety. If the insurance company tries to fight the claim, me questioning my girlfriend might be looked at strangely.”
Elba clasped her hands behind her back and swayed from side to side. “You called her your girlfriend.”
He counted to three, waiting for her to break out into the K-I-S-S-I-N-G song. She just grinned up at him.
“Can we get back to the graffiti?”
Her grin somehow got bigger, but she stopped swaying. “Sure. Like Zoe said, she came in and told me about it.”
“You didn’t notice it when you arrived this morning?”
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