by Deborah Camp
After unwrapping the cupcake, she settled the candle into the icing on top of it, her excitement growing. She put the treat on the small paper plate. Yeah, it was just a cupcake and it probably wouldn’t mean that much to him, but it meant a lot to her. It hurt her heart to think of him growing up feeling unwanted – such an outcast that he eschewed birthdays and holidays. Down deep, she sensed that he really missed all the hoopla of celebrations, but had resigned himself years ago to ignore them as a way to pretend they didn’t matter and that he didn’t care.
Dashing into the bathroom with her makeup bag, she brushed her teeth and ran a comb through hair. She took a minute to stare at her reflection, liking the look and feel of Levi’s soft cotton t-shirt. It was black, naturally. He nearly always wore dark colors. She supposed they went with his Mister Moody Blues persona. She fluffed the loose curls of her hair, letting them fall haphazardly across her forehead and over her ears.
“I’m going to live with Levi Wolfe,” she whispered to her reflection and the mirror girl’s eyes widened comically. “That’s freakin’ crazy!” She started to giggle and plastered her hand against her mouth to muffle the sound. Well, it was nuts. Never in a million scenarios had she dreamed that Levi would suggest such a thing. She had been prepared for him to say that he’d had second thoughts and wasn’t sure about his commitment to her. She’d hoped that he’d tell her he wanted to see her more often, but – live together?
Was it a good idea? Were they moving so fast that they were headed for a huge crash in which her heart and her hopes would be shattered?
She slammed her eyes shut and put the brakes on her careening thoughts. Time to celebrate, not fret and worry!
Whistling the happy birthday song, she lit the candle with the book of matches she had gotten from Gonzo, and then slowly and carefully made her way from the bedroom suite along the hallway, into the living room, and finally into the dining room. All along the way, the candle flame danced.
She stopped and glanced up, finding Levi standing at the dining table, a big wooden salad bowl in his hands. His expression was a mixture of bewilderment and embarrassment.
“What the fuck?”
“It’s your birthday cake.” She set it carefully on the long table, refusing to be intimidated by his brusque question. “I wanted to bake a cake for you and that was the plan if you’d come to Tulsa . . . chocolate with cream cheese frosting and rainbow sprinkles.” She shrugged. “But this will have to do. Make a wish, birthday boy, and blow out the candle. Use your imagination and pretend there are thirty of these suckers.”
He shook his head and set the salad bowl on the table. “Mixed greens salad and grilled cheese sandwiches. How does that grab you?”
“Great. Now make a wish.”
“Don’t be silly, Trudy.” He started to turn away, but she grabbed a handful of his t-shirt and stopped him. “What?”
Trudy tried to pat down her bristling anger by telling herself that he was just being an ass because he didn’t know how to handle the situation. “Leviticus David, you aren’t going to hurt my feelings over this, are you? You’re going to be sweet and nice and you’re going to make a wish and blow out that damned candle. Got it?”
He glanced at the brave candle flame and then back to her. “This means that much to you?”
She arched a brow and tapped one bare foot. He propped his hands at his waist and looked up at the ceiling as if seeking divine guidance. Finally, his chest rose with a quick breath and he leaned toward the flame.
“Wait!” Trudy jerked on his shirt. “Make a wish first.”
“Trudy, for crying out—.”
“A wish. One wish. Come on! And keep it to yourself or it won’t come true.”
He closed his eyes. “Okay, okay.” He blew out the candle and straightened. “There.” Shaking his head, he did an eye roll worthy of a snotty teenager. “Jesus, such a load of shit.”
Her anger imploded and she snatched the smoking candle out of the dessert, tore off a corner of the frosted cupcake, and jammed it against his mouth.
“There! Happy Birthday, horse’s butt!”
He spluttered and reared back, but before he could say anything or even raise a hand to wipe the stuff off his face, Trudy rose on tiptoes and kissed him fully and angrily. She ground her mouth against his and licked the sweetness off his lips. His arms came around her and his grunt of ire turned into a growl of fire. She wiped icing from her fingers along the stubble on his cheek, then tore her mouth from his and washed his skin with her tongue. He was delicious.
“You smashed it all over my face,” he said, almost panting from the rollercoaster of emotions.
“You deserved it. You’re being a prick.” She kissed him again, chasing crumbs with her tongue. “I wanted to do something special for your birthday. Something you’d remember.”
He chuckled. “This will be hard to forget.”
“This wasn’t what I’d had it mind!” She pushed out of his arms, laughing and breathless. “Let’s eat, you old grouch you. You’re thirty! Wow!” She sat in the nearest chair. Levi eyed her, warily.
“That’s right. You’re not going to throw salad and grilled cheese sandwiches at me, are you?”
She gave a little shrug and gathered the remains of the cupcake, setting them daintily on the paper plate. “Probably not. There will be no reason to . . . if you behave yourself.” She pursed her lips to keep from grinning at him.
“Oookay.” He jogged up the steps to the kitchen, grabbed a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches, and then rejoined her in the dining room. “You want wine? I could open a bottle.”
“No. How about a glass of milk?”
“Now you’re talking.” He went back to the kitchen and returned again with two glasses of milk, which he set on the table as he took his place. “I put an oil and vinegar dressing on the salad. Is that okay?”
“It’s great.” She speared some on her fork and tasted it. “Yum.”
“Glad you like it.” He grabbed one of the sandwiches, took a bite of it, and then placed the rest on his plate. “One thing I’ve heard about birthdays is that you get spanked for every year of your life.” His eyes were alive with deviltry. “You want to spank me tonight?”
She tipped up her chin at him and busied herself with chewing salad. “Eat.”
“I’ll eat and then go back to the office for a few hours. But don’t feel that you have to wait up for me. Unless you want to spank me, of course. I’ll wake you up for that.”
“You’re into kink, huh?”
“I am if you are.”
“Want me to tie you to the bedposts and get out the flogger?” she teased back.
He paled and jerked his gaze from her to his plate. In the seconds of silence that followed, Trudy felt his unease and it sent a shiver through her heart. Once again, he was pulling back from her . . . almost cringing. Not physically, but emotionally. She had trod on some memory that he wasn’t willing to share with her.
Striving to bring him close to her again, she sampled the sandwich, which had been slathered in plenty of butter. “You can cook for me any time, Wolfe.”
“It will be my pleasure, Tucker.” His relief was palpable as his eyes danced with hers. “But Wes does most of the cooking around here.”
“Oh, right. Your cook and housekeeper. So, when will he be here?”
“He works through the week and is off on weekends, but he won’t be here tomorrow. He’s taking a personal day. His anniversary is Saturday, so he’s taking his wife away for the weekend.”
Trudy swallowed a mouthful of salad and washed it down with milk. “That’s nice. So, tell me about the stalker. Do you really think she’s dangerous?”
“I’m not sure. All I do know is that she’s delusional and she thinks she’s you. That makes her more dangerous where you’re concerned.”
“Why?”
“Because seeing you could agitate her and that could lead to violence. She might lash out, believing that you’re t
he imposter.”
She mulled this over. It was so weird that a stranger was impersonating her. She could tell that Levi was worried, but she didn’t actually feel threatened. Just spooked. “I’m sure she’ll be in custody again soon. Her family’s looking for her, aren’t they?”
“Yes, but everyone believes that she’ll make her way back here. So, we’re all on high alert. That’s why you absolutely can’t leave this building without one of Gonzo’s guys with you. Promise me, Trudy.”
Her mouth was full of grilled cheese, so she nodded.
“Trudy, promise me.” He used that commanding tone that raised her hackles. His stare was hard and deadly serious.
She swallowed. “I promise. I’m not here to make trouble for you.”
His tense expression softened along with his tone. “Actually, I’m the one making trouble for you.”
She shook her head. “How do you figure that?”
“It’s because of me that this woman has fixated on you.”
“Oh, piffle!” She threw down her napkin and stifled a grin when he flinched. “Levi, stop it! None of this is your fault. The woman is unstable. If she hadn’t latched onto you, then it would have been someone else. Get off the blame yourself train.”
A slow smile curved his lips. “You’re disgustingly cute, did you know that?”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” She picked up the remains of the cupcake, divided it in two, and placed the bigger half on his plate. Catching his raised eyebrows and watchfulness, she scoffed. “Relax. Eat the rest of your birthday cake.”
“I get to eat it without wearing it first?” he murmured with a smirk. He took a big bite and cast his gaze up in a fake swoon.
“Do you remember having birthday cakes when you were young?”
“No.”
“But you did have them, right? Your parents celebrated when you were a kid.”
“No.” He shrugged. “If they did, I don’t remember it.”
“Did they call you on your birthday when you were away at school?”
He finished his part of the cake and brushed crumbs off his fingers. “No.”
“Did you go home for the holidays?”
“No.” He glanced at her, his expression circumspect, his brows lowering over his darkening eyes to let her know that he wasn’t going to elaborate.
“No?” She couldn’t help showing her shock and dismay.
“No.”
“So, where did you spend Christmas?”
“Wherever I happened to be.” He stood and started stacking the dishes. “I need to get back to work.”
Even though his answers twisted her heart, she told herself to drop it. It was his birthday. Let him have his secrets. She reached out, covering his busy hands with hers. “I’ll do this. You go on.”
“Okay.” He leaned toward her and brushed his lips across hers. “Thanks for the birthday cake – and the gift.”
She mirrored his slow grin. “No more condoms. I could tell you liked my gift.”
“Loved it. And I intend to keep on loving it.”
“Does it feel different without them?”
He kissed her again, a sweet, lingering caress. “I feel you. No barriers. Just you melting into me. See you soon.”
“But not soon enough,” she recited, getting another quick kiss from him before he left.
Trudy sat at the table for a while, going over what he’d told her. No birthdays. No Thanksgivings. No Christmases. At least, none that he could recall. What kind of parents did he have? How could they enjoy holiday festivities while their only child was miles and miles away from them, alone and certainly lonely? To think that his own father – a famous evangelist with his own TV show – preached about love and forgiveness while he forced his own son to feel unloved and unworthy of forgiveness!
She stared out the windows at the blinking, twinkling lights of Atlanta until they blurred with her tears. Closing her eyes, she vowed to make Leviticus Wolfe know that he was loved – loved by her with her body, her heart, and her soul – whether he liked it or not!
Chapter 6
After a lazy weekend spent mostly in bed or in the big sunken tub with Levi, Trudy opened her eyes Monday morning to a bed without him in it. Sitting up, she swiped her hands through her hair and ran one hand over the sheet next to her. It was cool. He’d been gone for a while. She glanced at the bedside clock. It wasn’t quite seven o’clock – too early for him to already have left for the office. Or was it?
She yawned and ran her hands up and down her face to remove the last vestiges of sleep and . . . a dream? A bad dream. She stiffened as odd scenes flickered in her mind like an old movie reel. She tried to catch and hold one long enough to understand it, but they raced by in a blur. Something about a snake . . .and electricity or lightning?
With a groan, she tossed aside the sheet and the disjointed images. She sprang up from the comfortable bed and went into the bathroom to take a shower, brush her teeth, and pull on jeans and a Tulsa Golden Hurricane sweatshirt. She had finally unpacked, thinking she should leave most of what she’d brought with her in the penthouse instead of taking them back home.
“Because I’m moving in with him,” she whispered to her reflection in the oval mirror above the sink. If she said it enough times, she thought she might get used to it. For now, it seemed unreal . . . like a fantasy.
She brushed her hair, ran a mascara wand over her lashes, and glossed her lips, then went in search of her man. She found him sitting at the dining room table, his face planted in his hands, newspaper sections scattered before him. Anguish quivered around him like an aura and Trudy was instantly alert. Something bad had happened. A man she assumed was Wes Statler stood in the kitchen cutting a grapefruit in half. She nodded at him, and although everything inside her wanted to vault toward Levi, she made herself move up the kitchen steps.
“Hello. You must be Mr. Statler. I’m Trudy Tucker.” She sent him a half-smile and held out her hand. He shook it as his gaze tracked to Levi and then back to her.
“Nice to meet you. Please call me Wes. How about a cup of java?”
“Yes, thanks.” Taking a deep breath, Trudy turned toward Levi. He’d lifted his face out of his hands and his bleak expression sent her hurrying back down the steps toward him. “What’s happened?” she asked, running her hand across the broad span of his shoulders. He turned in the chair and pressed the side of his face between her breasts, his arms circling her and hugging her close. Shocked that he’d display such emotion in front of another person, she combed her fingers through his hair and bent to kiss his temple and then his sideburn. “Talk to me,” she whispered.
“Nikki’s been murdered.” His voice was muffled against her sweatshirt.
For a few moments, she didn’t understand, but then she remembered the photos she’d seen on the Internet of Levi escorting a pretty blond. She hugged him closer and he hugged her back. “The meteorologist you were seeing?”
He nodded, drew in a deep breath, and then leaned away from her to look into her face. The grief and shock in his eyes was fresh and raw. “It’s in the newspaper this morning. Her body was found yesterday. I just got off the phone with the police.”
“Oh, Levi. That’s terrible.” She smoothed her hands over his midnight hair and held his face between them. He turned his head slightly to kiss the side of her hand. “Have they arrested anyone yet?”
“No.”
He cleared his throat and she saw the shields rise up in his eyes and click into place. Glancing around, he let go of her and inched his head back, out of her hold. Since it was obvious that his unguarded moments of real, unfiltered emotion were over, Trudy edged away from him, giving him the space she knew that he needed. Glancing toward the kitchen, she caught Wes Statler’s expression of slack-jawed shock before he, too, recovered and looked away from them.
Sitting in the chair next to Levi, she grabbed the section of newspaper on top of the pile. It had been folded open to an art
icle about Nicola Bartlett’s murder and she read it, filing away important bits, wincing at others. “Her body was moved, so they don’t even know where the murder took place.” She glanced at Levi to see his curt nod. “Was she seeing anyone other than you?”
“I don’t know.” His voice was scratchy, toneless; his expression bland, carefully and tenuously composed.
Trudy ran her teeth across her lower lip, wanting to tell him that he didn’t have to put on a brave face for her. She knew him well enough to know that he was a wreck inside. Damned, stubborn man! Sighing, she studied the article again. Nicola’s nude body had been found in Oakland Cemetery, an historic site where notables such as author Margaret Mitchell were interred. It appeared that she’d died from strangulation, but an autopsy was pending. Police asked that anyone who saw anything suspicious contact them.
“When did you see her last?” Trudy asked.
“Right after I returned to Atlanta. We had dinner together.” He drank some coffee and smoothed a hand down his silver tie.
Trudy felt her eyebrow arch before she could stop it. Levi saw it, too.
“She’d already heard about the stalker and I wanted to talk to her about that and tell her about us,” he added.
“How did she take it? Was she upset?”
“No.” His shoulders bobbed in a quick shrug. “She was gracious. Nicola is – was all class. She wished me luck and she said she’d like to meet you.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “God, I can’t believe this! I can’t believe she’s gone. Snuffed out. Just like that.” He looked toward Wes. “Who would want to hurt her?”
“What did the police say?” Wes asked, approaching the table with the halved grapefruit nestled in shallow bowls. He set one in front of Trudy and one in front of Levi.