I Love Lacy

by Lillian Feisty

  “It’s annoying but a part of who you are—your makeup. You just can’t remove a part of your makeup and be happy with yourself. You’d be missing an element of your being.”

  “Okay.”

  “Plus, I need it for my job.”

  “As an Aromatherapian?”

  “As a food critic. I write a column, syndicated in over fifty papers.” She picked up a newspaper from a stack, flipped through it and held it before him.

  And there she was, pictured in the New York Times next to an article titled “The New Mushrooms: There’s a Fungus Among Us”.

  Okay, insane people didn’t have syndicated columns, did they?

  He didn’t want to encourage her, but something she’d said was niggling at his brain. “So you’re telling me that your special skills help you as a food critic.”

  “Yes. Taste is eighty percent smell.”

  “Do you ever give bad reviews?”

  “All the time.”

  “Ever piss off any chefs?”

  She shrugged. “Probably.”

  He slid his notebook out of his shirt pocket. “Any one in particular come to mind? Any chef get particularly miffed with you?” And why did the thought of someone harming her make his blood boil with anger?

  She twirled a red curl around her finger. “Hm, not that I can think of.”

  “You sure?”

  “Well, there was one guy, but why would he want to steal my tiara? I mean, it’s priceless to me, but it’s not exactly worth a fortune at a pawn shop.”

  “Is there any chance he knows that your skill is dependent upon this stone?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I mean, I don’t even know the guy. All I know is that his crème brulée tasted like Jell-O and his crab cakes made me think I was licking a barnacle.”

  “Ew.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Who is this chef? What’s his name?”

  “Gill. He works at the Silver Nugget casino.”

  “No kidding? His steak gave me food poisoning last Christmas.”

  “You had Christmas dinner at the Silver Nugget?”

  He slid his notebook into his pocket. “Um. Yes.”

  Her eyes had gone all soft, like she was sorry for him. “Alone?”

  “I was on duty!”

  Shrugging, she turned to the safe and stuck her head inside. He watched as she sniffed around the dark metal interior. Then her body went still. “Oh my God!”

  He stepped closer. “What? What is it?”

  Her voice echoed back from the safe. “Something is definitely fishy! I smell crab!” She whipped her head out and faced him. “You’re right!”

  “I am?”

  Her blue eyes sparkled and narrowed. “Yes! That bastard chef stole my priceless tiara!”

  “Well, we don’t know that for a fact—”

  She pushed past him. “And I’m going to get it back.”

  He reached out to stop her but she was too quick and dodged out of his grasp.

  “Wait, you are not going anywhere.”

  “That jerk!” She skidded to a halt in the middle of her living room. “But how did he know about the tiara?”

  Mason stopped just short of careening into her. He took her hand and led her to the front door. “I have an idea. Come on.”

  Chapter Three

  Detective O’Malley had an old truck with no new car smell whatsoever, so she didn’t have to worry about nosebleeds during the three-mile drive to Ralph’s house. After a quick and silent ride they were on his doorstep.

  “I know he’s in there.” She pushed the doorbell. “It’s 6:30. He’s always home by now so he can watch Seinfeld reruns.”

  “His life sounds fascinating.”

  She gave him a small grin before nailing the buzzer again. “You have no idea.”

  Finally the door jerked open to reveal her scowling cousin. His eyes widened when he saw Mason. He tried to shut the door but Mason stuck his boot in the way.

  Ralph narrowed his eyes at her. “Lacy! What is going on here?”

  She moved closer and sniffed. “I knew it! You’re scared because you told that chef about my tiara!”

  He went white beneath his freckles. “W-what are you talking about?”

  “Cut the bullshit.” Mason put his hand on his hip, subtly revealing the edge of a leather holster. She hadn’t noticed the strap earlier and the thought of his concealed weapon sent a jolt of excitement through her body. She wondered if he had handcuffs and shivered.

  “Your cousin’s tiara has gone missing. Did you tell Gill LaRouche about Miss Kane’s abilities?”

  “No! Of course not.”

  Lacy narrowed her eyes. “You did so.”

  “Are you calling me a liar?”

  “Yes! You’ve always been a liar and you cheat at Trivial Pursuit!”

  He looked furious. “I do not!”

  “I know you memorize the cards before you play.”

  “You bitch!” He lunged at her but was immediately intercepted by Mason’s broad form.

  “Take one more step toward her and I’ll kick your fucking ass.”

  “Who are you, anyway?”

  “I’m a private investigator who thinks you’re behind this theft.”

  “What? Don’t believe that bitch—”

  His words were cut off abruptly by Mason’s hand around his jaw. “Shut up. Now, do you want to tell us why you gave the info to this Gill LaRouche?”

  After a minute Ralph jerked a nod. Mason released him and took a step back. “Speak.”

  “Because it’s unfair. Why should she have all the ability? I’m an Aromatherapian, too!”

  Lacy snorted. “Not a very good one.”

  “That’s because you got the fucking tiara! Now I’m stuck with a job as a janitor and you know what? It’s torture!”

  Lacy recoiled at her cousin’s hostility. “That’s not my fault! You could get a job doing something else. Plus, you know that the tiara goes to the firstborn female! That’s just how it is. I didn’t make the rules.”

  “You could’ve given it to me.”

  “Grandmother wanted me to have it.”

  “Enough!” Mason turned his gaze to Ralph. “Just tell us. Did you or did you not tell this chef about your cousin’s ability and alert him as to how to curtail those abilities?”

  “Don’t lie, Ralph. I can smell it.”

  “Fine. I did it! So what? It’s not like I stole anything!”

  But Mason was already speaking into his mobile. After a minute he flipped his phone shut. “The sheriff will be here shortly to take you in.”

  “For what? I didn’t do anything!”

  “You’re under suspicion.”

  “You aren’t listening! I didn’t do anything. It was the perfect plan…”

  Mason rolled his eyes. Then in a flash of movement he had Ralph handcuffed to the doorknob.

  Ralph sputtered some profane protests as Mason led Lacy away from the house. When they reached the sidewalk he turned and faced her. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “Is the sheriff really going to arrest him?”

  “They’ll question him first, then go from there.”

  She glanced to where her cousin struggled against his handcuffed wrists. She couldn’t imagine her spineless cousin would survive long in a Reno jail. She tried not to think about it as they waited for the police to show up.

  “You wait here. I’ll need to explain the situation to the sheriff.” A few minutes later a black-and-white cruiser pulled up to the curb.

  She glanced back at Ralph. “What’s going to happen to him?”

  “Honestly? Probably nothing. I just want to scare him a bit so he doesn’t mess with you again.”

  She shouldn’t have been relieved. Her cousin had totally tried to fuck her over. Still, he was family and she couldn’t ignore the fact that he was blood. No matter how much she might like to.

  Her throat closed a bit as the fact sunk in that her c
ousin was part of this. How could he do this to her?

  She wouldn’t think about it now. She couldn’t waste the energy, not when she had to concentrate on retrieving her tiara. “Okay. So then what? Do we go to the restaurant and confront Gill?”

  “We don’t do anything. You wait at home while I get the cops to obtain a search warrant.”

  “The tiara will be at the casino.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Is it easy to get a search warrant for a casino?”

  “No.”

  “That’s why. He won’t think anyone will come looking for it there.”

  “Miss Kane?”

  “Yes?”

  “Leave the investigation up to me, okay?”

  She shrugged. “Fine. I was just trying to save you some time.”

  “Well, thank you but I think I can manage.”

  “Anyway, I can go to the casino myself and look.”

  “What? You’re doing no such thing.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because this guy is a thief who broke into your house.”

  “How soon will the cops be able to get a warrant?”

  “Within forty-eight hours.”

  “I need it by tomorrow or my abilities will start to decrease.” She turned. “I’ll go myself.”

  His hand on her shoulder stopped her short. “Listen.” He spun her back to face him then leaned down until his nose was close to hers. “Be a good girl and wait in my truck.”

  She just looked at him. She wasn’t used to giving up control, not being in charge. Her mother had called her flighty because she did not follow in her family’s footsteps, choosing to become a chef instead of a professional Aromatherapian. But by taking her own path in life Lacy had had to become self-sufficient. And that went hand-in-hand with being in control.

  However, there was something freeing about giving that up—just a little. And as she took in Mason’s confident stance, she realized that he was more than able to oversee things. And besides, wasn’t that why she’d hired him?

  “Trust me.”

  Still, she hesitated. This was her life they were talking about. The logical part of her brain reminded that this man was still a stranger.

  She shrugged. It had always been especially easy for Lacy to ignore the logical part of her brain. It was her nose she trusted. And he smelled capable.

  His grip on her shoulder tightened. “Lacy…” His voice was a warning. He had a different spicy fragrance when he was irritated.

  For some reason she thought she’d be inhaling that particular scent a lot in the future.

  Lifting her chin, she met his gaze. “Fine. But remember. The longer he has my tiara the more chance he has of doing it damage.” Just the thought sent a shiver of icy fear up her spine. “And without it, my life will never be the same.”

  “I promise to do all I can.”

  Believing his words to be true, she nodded. Then she went to his truck and waited.

  *

  “Mmm. That vanilla pumpkin cinnamon latte hit the spot.”

  Mason glanced her way. They’d stopped for a quick coffee and were currently driving toward the Silver Nugget. The Casino was located on the outskirts of Reno, a few miles up in the mountains.

  Somehow, during coffee, she’s persuaded him to take her to the restaurant where Gill LaRouche worked. He would have preferred to go alone, but he couldn’t say no to her. She was a very persuasive woman.

  So he’d agreed to take her to the casino. They were just a man and woman going out to dinner. She had promised to simply smell. If she caught the scent of her tiara, he’d send her away and act on her information. Heck, casino security was so tight, she was probably safer there than at her house.

  Humming the tune to I Love Lucy—this girl really liked that song—she bounced along beside him in his old truck. The 1975 Chevy was a turn-off to most women, but Miss Kane—Lacy—seemed to like it. She was certainly unpredictable and unlike any other female he’d known. He found himself drawn to her in a very unfamiliar way. It wasn’t good, that feeling.

  And it was too good.

  When he left the force fifteen years ago to set up his practice he’d gone in knowing he’d be single the rest of his life. He’d seen firsthand what a job in his field did to a family, didn’t want to be responsible for causing anyone that kind of pain.

  Out of the corner of his eye he caught her glancing his way. “What?”

  “Huh? Oh, nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “Well…”

  “What?”

  “Um, I was just wondering if you got your handcuffs back.”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “No reason.”

  “Miss Kane?”

  She looked at him from beneath her lashes. “It’s just that I’ve always had this fantasy.”

  “Oh, the handcuff fantasy?”

  “You’ve heard of it before?”

  “Yeah.” Like a million times.

  “And the headlights?” she asked.

  “Headlights?”

  “Yes. The handcuffed-in-the-headlights fantasy.”

  “Um, no. I guess I haven’t heard that one before.”

  “Well, I’ve always thought it would be neat—”

  “Neat, huh?” He grinned.

  “Yes. Neat. To be handcuffed at night in front of headlights while an officer of the law, you know…”

  His cock went hard.

  “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I am no longer an officer of the law.”

  “But you used to be.”

  “Miss—Lacy…” Just the thought of her standing in the front of his truck, her hands cuffed behind her back, made him hornier than a breadbox. Not that breadboxes got horny— Fuck, he couldn’t even think! Obviously she had totally messed him up in the head.

  Just then he saw a one-lane road. Slamming on the brakes, he whipped the truck to the right and pulled onto the bumpy dirt. Lacy grabbed the oh-shit handle for support as he drove deeper into the woods. After a minute he pulled the truck to a stop and killed the engine.

  The headlights stayed on.

  When he looked at her she was watching him. Her profile was dark in the muted light but he saw her lick her lips and take a sharp breath.

  “Mason. Why are we stopped here?” Her voice was all breathy in that way he was getting used too, that way he liked.

  Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out the handcuffs. The clanking metal echoed in the dim cab. “Miss Kane. I’m going to need you to step out of the vehicle.”

  Except for the tiny twitch at the edge of her lips, her expression was serious. “Are you sure that’s necessary? Officer?”

  “Yes.”

  She popped open the door and slid onto the ground. Then she turned and looked at him, her gaze questioning.

  It was then he knew she’d do anything he asked. Hell, she wanted him to ask her to do things. The realization sent all kinds of crazy shit through his head. Of course it made him hotter for her than ever, but it also presented a new emotion. Something protective and primal and unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

  Shaking his head, he pushed the unfamiliar feelings away.

  “Miss Kane. Please walk to the front of the truck and put your hands behind your back.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Are you going to frisk me?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Goody!”

  He gave her a mock scowl.

  She jumped back and walked to the front of the truck. Biting back a grin, he pulled a small package out of the glove box, then opened the door and stepped out. He couldn’t remember when sex had been this fun.

  Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember sex ever being fun.

  As she stood there in the beam of the truck’s headlights, her red hair glowed. Her blue eyes were large and dark and her chest rose and fell with her rapid breaths. How could he have only known her a few hours? He felt like he’d known her for years.
>
  No time to think about that now. Not when he was turning her around, pulling her arms behind her back and clasping her wrists within the metal rings.

  And then clink. Clink.

  She was his.

  Lacy’s legs trembled. She could barely keep upright. It didn’t matter. Somehow she knew he would never let her fall.

  As she looked up into Mason’s big brown eyes she pushed her restrained wrists against the small of her back. She was surprised at how heavy the handcuffs were. The slight discomfort of the metal against her skin helped ground her.

  Her pussy was already so wet and he’d barely touched her.

  The wind picked up, blowing her hair into her eye. Mason reached up and tucked it back behind her ear. The tender gesture made her heart skip. Then he leaned down and kissed her and everything inside her melted. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and she welcomed him, tasted him. She wanted to reach up and encourage him deeper but all she could do was strain against the metal cuffs holding her hands behind her back.

  Then he was unbuttoning the front of her dress, drawing the fabric over her shoulders until her bra was exposed. He pulled back, took in her disheveled appearance. “Gorgeous. I have no idea who you are but…”

  “But what?”

  “But I want you.”

  “I want you to want me.”

  He shook his head, unbuttoning the top of her dress. She trembled beneath his touch. He pulled the neckline open, pushed the fabric farther down her shoulders.

  “I want to throw you on the truck, spread you wide and fuck you.”

  She gasped. His words were like an erotic caress to her brain. She wanted that too.

  Instead he lowered his mouth to her breasts, taking a nipple between his teeth, torturing her through the lacy fabric of her bra. Closing her eyes, she cried out as he nipped the sensitive flesh. The pain shot through her, straight to her sex. If not for the arm he had wrapped around her lower back she would have collapsed onto the leaf-covered ground.

  He continued licking and nipping until she was moaning and writhing against him, begging. The headlights illuminated every angle of his strong face, making her tingle all over. Then his hand was between her legs, palming her dampness through the fabric of her skirt and panties, and she cried out for him.

  “Please, Mason!” He was torturing her. She wanted him to tear off her clothes so she could actually feel him.