Can't Shake You

by Molly McLain

  Hell yeah. Making her come was something he had plenty of experience with. It was safe. Comforting even.

  She gasped into his mouth and, though no one else could hear the outcry of her pleasure, he swallowed her muttered words and pleas for more as he continued to stroke and tease her. Slow circles, focused pressure, and feathery caresses against her slippery flesh had her writhing against him in no time.

  She turned her face fully into his neck, clung to him as she rode his hand, trying to get there...faster, desperate, frantic. And then she tensed, hips suspended off of the seat and his tongue and his fingers thrust deep inside her warm, welcoming body at the same time. When she shattered, the entire gondola shook, swaying and glittering against the night sky.

  The fact that he also shook, from the soles of his boots to some deeper, more primal part of himself scared the shit out of him.

  The Ferris wheel began to move again, their gondola descending slowly toward the ground, and Josh was pretty sure it wasn’t the only thing falling.

  Chapter Twenty

  “You look different.”

  Carissa glanced up from her lemon poppy seed muffin to see Maddie staring her down with narrowed, inquisitive eyes. If being sleep-deprived, yet sexually satisfied made a person look different, then yes. Yes, she probably did.

  “I can’t quite put my finger on it. But you’re...glowing or something. Cripes, you’re not pregnant are you?” Maddie snorted at her own joke almost before she’d finished the question, waving it off as a humorous impossibility. “Seriously though, something’s up. Help me out here.”

  Popping a crumb of muffin into her mouth, Carissa slid back into the corner of their booth at the front of Cedar Street Coffee, extending her legs along the bench seat. She evaded the most likely reason of her supposed glow and skipped to the truth her friend wouldn’t mind hearing about. “I talked to Cade Tuesday night.”

  Maddie choked on her orange juice. “Shut the hell up. Are you for real?”

  “Uh-huh.” She chewed another bite and washed it down with a sip of her own juice. “He’s coming to the wedding, by the way. He wanted me to know before he RSVP’d.”

  “That’s it? He called just to tell you that?”

  “I called him.”

  Maddie’s jaw dropped like it had the time they’d walked in on Cade taking care of business. Carissa rolled her eyes.

  “It’s not a big deal. And we only talked for, like, ten minute.”

  “Ten minutes more than you’ve talked to him in, what, two years?”

  Sheesh. It had only been a year and some odd months! “It was nice. He’s seeing someone. Kimberly. He might bring her to the wedding so I can meet her.”

  Maddie slumped back in her side of the booth and shook her head in disbelief. “That’s awesome. I mean...holy crap. What made you decide to call?”

  That was a loaded question. “I guess you could say I’m tired of fighting a losing battle. And really? I’ve kinda lost sight of what I was fighting in the first place. At least with Cade.”

  “He hurt you. Maybe not intentionally, but he did. You had to stand up for yourself. But your dad couldn’t make it on his own and, without you, someone had to step in. At least Cade was willing to do that. And if you’re honest with yourself, without his help, you wouldn’t be here right now. With me.”

  “What do you mean?” Her brow furrowed.

  “Do you really think that you could have stayed away from Lincoln—from your dad, as much as you claimed to hate him—if it hadn’t been for Cade stepping up to the plate?” Maddie reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “You know just as well as I do, if he hadn’t done what he did, you would have gone back home a long time ago.”

  Carissa blinked, not sure if she should be offended or impressed. She didn’t want to admit Maddie was probably right, because that would mean she hadn’t come as far as she thought she had over the past couple years. That her bravado had been nothing more than a free pass from her brother. But the reality was, she wasn’t the abandoning type, and if not for Cade, she probably would have continued on, sacrificing her own life and her own happiness.

  “Don’t do that,” Maddie warned, shaking a finger at her. “I can see what you’re thinking and it’s not true. You didn’t score your dream job because you look cute in cardigan sweaters. You did it because you’re smart as hell and you’re great with kids. You’ve earned every damn thing you have here in Cameron County. And the flip? Who the hell knows what you’re thinking with that, but it’s turned out freakin’ fabulous, hasn’t it? You’re gonna sell that mother and you’re gonna be rolling in the dough. You just wait and see.”

  Tears of what, she didn’t know, began to burn behind Carissa’s eyelids. She grinned at her best friend and, in those few moments, remembered exactly why she’d followed her across the state.

  “Now you just need a man and—bam!—you’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted.” Maddie slammed her hand down on the table and Carissa jumped.

  “Jesus!” she laughed, sniffing away her emotion.

  Maddie grinned. “Sorry. I tend to get a little over-exuberant when it comes to your love life.”

  “Just a little.”

  Her friend gave her a pouty face. “You know that it’s just because I want you to be as happy as I am, right?”

  She nodded. “I do.” But what if Josh was the man who ended up making her happy? Would Maddie accept that?

  Maddie’s cell rang on the table and she snatched it up, purring as she put it to her ear. “Hey, lover boy, what’s up?”

  Carissa nearly gagged on her last bite of muffin.

  “What? Was anyone hurt? Is Josh okay?” Maddie’s eyes cut to Carissa’s across the table and she lifted her fingers to her mouth, concern heavy on her face.

  Carissa’s heart froze in her chest. Her breath lodged tight inside her ribs. Her ears rang...

  “I’m coming down. Yes, Dan, I am. I don’t fucking care if I’ll be in the way!” She clicked off the call and bit at her lip, apparently too dumbfounded to speak.

  Carissa pounced, because if something happened to Josh... “Tell me! What?”

  “The new clinic is on fire. The guys were just getting to the site when they saw the smoke. They just framed it out yesterday and the whole thing’s gone up like kindling.”

  A wave of nausea rioted in Carissa’s stomach. The vandal.

  She slid out of the booth and, with shaking hands, tossed money for the bill on the table. “I’m coming with you.”

  ***

  Josh stood in front of the clinic—or what had been the clinic—absolutely numb at the sight before him.

  Water sprayed from the fire hoses, drowning out the flames that had ignited like clinic walls like dry twigs. His crew loomed around him, watching in similar shades of disbelief. Stunned. None of them speaking, but all of them surely thinking the same thing he was—this was no accident.

  The sheriff sauntered up to him with a regretful frown. “Damn sorry about this, Hudson.”

  Yeah. So was he. Josh nodded, unable to speak. How the hell did this shit keep happening? Why did it keep happening?

  “We’re bringing in Archie. Maybe he’ll sniff out something and get us heading in the right direction sooner rather than later.”

  Josh swallowed. “The fire had to have been started right before we got here. It went up too fast to have been any earlier. Someone in the area had to see something.”

  Mark nodded. “Let’s hope so. We’ll ask around. Check with the surrounding business owners. People who might have been driving by.”

  Josh scrubbed his hands over his face. “This is getting old, Mark. Damn fucking old.”

  “I hear ya. Wish we had more to go on before, so we could have prevented this.”

  But they hadn’t, because whoever was doing this to him was too smart. Too clean.

  Dan stepped away from a small huddle of newspaper reporters, where he’d been giving a statement on behalf of Hudson Contrac
ting and the clinic administration. He moved into line with Josh and Mark, watching the action die down in front of them.

  He shook his head and clapped Josh on the back. Maddie came running up a minute later, making quiet conversation with Dan before coming to stand before Josh, her face rumpled.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said simply, reaching out to squeeze his hand in an affectionate gesture that was possibly the kindest she’d ever been to him. Friggin’ shame it had to be under these circumstances.

  He nodded. “Me, too.”

  “Is there something I can do? Maybe bring some coffee? Carissa and I can run back to Cedar Street...”

  Carissa.

  Josh turned and saw her standing in the back, closer to his guys, an arm wrapped around herself, while the other hung loose. Her face was pinched and she looked ready to burst into tears.

  For him?

  God. He wanted nothing more than to go to her, pull her in close and pretend this had been nothing but a terrible nightmare.

  Their eyes met and her expression tightened. She mouthed a simple, “I’m sorry,” and, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Reed fly onto the scene. Slamming his car door shut, he ran toward the chaos.

  Josh held Carissa’s gaze for another moment, trying to convey to her in those brief seconds that he appreciated her being there. That, if he could, he’d have her by his side. She tipped her head to the side and subtly stretched out her fingers to him in a way only he could understand. I want to be there, too.

  “This is bullshit!” Fletcher roared, his hands pulling at his hair in frustration and rage as he stomped forward, breaking Josh’s trance.

  “We don’t know for sure if it’s the vandal,” Josh said, clearing his throat. “It could have been a spark. Anything.” He wasn’t sure where the words came from—wishful thinking maybe—because they all knew how the fire had started.

  “This happened in friggin’ daylight,” Fletcher continued on. “Somebody had to see this shit go down.”

  “As soon as we’ve got the scene secured, we’ll start checking around,” Mark assured him. “Gotta let Archie sniff around a bit before all the water kills the scent of accelerant if one was used to start the blaze.”

  On cue, the dog came jogging up with his handler, the deputy who’d taken prints from the garage, on his heels. The fire completely knocked down, the firefighters began to retreat.

  “Cool enough to walk the perimeter?” the deputy asked his boss and Mark nodded. He made a motion to the fire chief and then pointed to the dog. The chief gave a thumb’s up and the deputy hurried ahead with the German Shepherd, not letting him go like he might normally, given the precarious nature of a scene.

  Mentally and physically exhausted, Josh zoned out on the dog running the perimeter of the moderately sized building. It didn’t take him long to hone in on something.

  “That was fast,” Mark muttered and they all stared, anxious to see what would come next. “I’m guessing it’s something simple. Paint thinner, maybe. Archie loves paint thinner.”

  He sniffed for a bit longer and then turned to the deputy and barked. The deputy bent to scratch his head and then let the dog take him on a walk around the lot. He slowed up on spot on the opposite of the parking lot, circling around on something else.

  “Maybe where the perp’s vehicle was parked,” Mark said, providing play by play commentary.

  Then the dog picked up a trail and trotted off toward the vehicles parked at rear of the scene.

  Josh’s breath burned in his lungs. Half of his guys stood around watching. Was one of them guilty? Would Archie end this once and for all?

  “He’s onto to something.” Mark again.

  Josh was pretty sure everyone standing in the lot gasped at what happened next.

  Mark shifted his feet, kicking up dust as he did. Then his hands were on his hips, one just above his holster, as he swiveled toward Josh with an arched eyebrow.

  “That’s my truck,” Josh said stupidly. The fucking dog was going ape shit on his truck.

  “Hold ‘em back,” Mark called to the deputy. Then he angled his head toward the vehicle and signaled for Josh to follow.

  He did and, with everyone’s eyes on him, he felt like he was taking the walk to his execution. He moved past Carissa, her eyes still wide and beautiful and glued to him. Her sweet scent propelled him forward. He had nothing to hide. This was just a fluke.

  But Mark took one look into the bed of his truck and came away cursing.

  That’s when Josh’s rage broke free and he turned away from what was clearly a goddamn set up with a guttural roar. Tucked in the back of his truck was a can of lacquer that he sure as hell hadn’t put there.

  Dan was at his side in a flash and Josh barely heard what the man said because this. Was. Not. Fucking. Happening. He put his hands on the bed of his truck and bent, trying to breathe and desperately trying not to lose the breakfast he hadn’t even eaten.

  “We all know what’s going on here,” his brother said, trying to reassure him. He laid a hand on Josh’s shoulder, but he jerked away, nostrils flaring, blood rushing in his ears, and fists at his sides.

  “But it doesn’t matter, does it?” he snarled. He spun, hell bent on beating the shit out of something, but there was nothing. There was no one.

  He twisted again and found Carissa in the crowd, tears streaming down her face. His heart contracted and his breath hiccupped in his chest. She didn’t believe he was behind this, did she? She had to know him better than that by now...

  “I’m gonna need you to come down to the station. I’m not arresting you, but we need to talk.” Mark moved up beside him, the calming presence he needed to keep from doing something totally stupid like putting his hand through his truck window or pushing his way to Carissa and begging her to believe he hadn’t done anything wrong. “Dan can give you a ride and I’ll have one of the guys bring in your truck. We need to process it.”

  By early afternoon, according to the clock on the interrogation room wall, his ass was sore from sitting in the same chair, waiting and then waiting some more. He had a splitting headache, roughly the size of the Grand Canyon, and he was starving. Dan offered to bring him something to eat, but he’d declined, more interested in his brother finding him a good lawyer instead. From the sounds of someone raising hell out in the station, the guy had finally arrived.

  The door creaked open and Mark walked in with a file and a pad of paper in one hand and a can of Mountain Dew in the other.

  “Looks like you need a pick-me-up,” he said, sliding the soda across the table before he sat.

  Josh wasn’t a caffeine fan, but he wasn’t gonna look a gift horse in the mouth either. He cracked the soda open and downed its contents in a few gulps.

  The door flew open again and an older man in a navy suit—presumably his lawyer—flew in. He pointed a finger at Josh. “Don’t say word. Not a goddamn word.”

  Mark rolled his eyes. “This isn’t NCIS. Relax.”

  Though it wasn’t the least bit funny, Josh gave a wry grunt. “I’ve got nothing to hide. Far as I’m concerned, ask away so I can get the hell out of here.”

  The lawyer looked slightly deflated, like he’d expected something more exciting. He sniffed, straightened his tie and extended his hand to Josh.

  “Mike Sawyer. I used to work with your dad.”

  Josh shook the man’s hand and gestured to the empty seat beside him.

  “We got all that settled now?” Mark asked with an amused glint in his eyes. “Am I free to begin?”

  Sawyer narrowed his eyes, like he was preparing for an argument, then quickly nodded. “Yeah, sure. Go ahead. I mean, as long as you’re sure.” He turned to Josh.

  “I’m sure. Let’s get this show on the road. I’ve been sitting here with my thumb up my ass for five hours.”

  Mark gave him a “whine ass” look and shuffled open the file. “As you know, we took your prints earlier. And, as I’m sure you also know, none of them showed up
on the lacquer container. And there was no trace of lacquer scent inside the truck. The guys dusted it and came away with several sets of prints that don’t belong to you. So, let’s start with you telling me who’s been around your truck the past few days. Who might’ve touched the bed of the truck, the door handles...you get the point.”

  Josh swallowed, already knowing how the rest of this conversation was going to go. “Carissa,” he said flatly. “We went to buy kitchen cabinets yesterday.”

  Mark scrawled a notation on a pad of paper, not yet catching on. “Okay, who else?”

  “Tony. Ryan. Any of my guys, really. Fletcher. Dan. My old man.”

  Mark wrote them all down and moved on. “Tell me about the baseball bat.”

  Josh frowned. “What baseball bat?”

  “The one we found at the storage garage.”

  “I don’t know anything about—” He stopped short, suddenly remembering the bat he’d seen laying on the ground. Dark red. White tape. A dent in the end. “Are you kidding me?” he snarled. “My own goddamn bat? Jesus Christ!” How did he not realize that before?

  “Obviously, your prints are a match to the bat. But, like your truck, there are other, unidentified ones as well.”

  “I can’t believe this guy’s nerve. Trying to set me up. Motherfucker!” Josh leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he covered his face with his hands and cursed.

  “Listen, Josh, I know you didn’t start the fire. I also know you didn’t take the bat to that glass. But try to be patient with me here. Your timeline the past week and a half is going to help us figure out when this guy got the bat from your property and when he planted the lacquer. If we can figure some of that out, we might be able to start putting together this puzzle.” Mark’s tone was very matter of fact and it had Josh focusing again.

  “Okay. What do you want to know?”

  “Start with this morning and work backward. Tell me exactly where you’ve been and what you’ve been doing.”

  “I got to the clinic at about seven o’clock, same as the other guys. That’s when we saw the smoke and the whole frame went up in flames.”