Walking directly over to him, I stop and scowl up, ‘what is your problem, mister?’ I push my finger into his chest, lightly. ‘I can feel your attitude from across the room,’ alcohol has evidently eliminated any filters I may have previously used when addressing him.
He looks visibly surprised by my brashness, although it immediately clears the frost from his gaze. He grasps my finger at his chest and brings it down to his side, which urges me forward, and I topple against him. My other hand lands on his hard chest, and I have to refrain from pushing myself provocatively against him.
‘Oopsy-daisy,’ I purr up, playfully.
He grins down, his eyes dancing, ‘you are absolutely fucking adorable,’ he hums, as his free hand grips my hip and encourages me up flush against his toned form. All playfulness leaves my body as desire courses through me. As if he senses it, his hand moves to the top of my backside and his eyes darken. My eyes drop to his lips, wistfully.
‘You are so very pretty,’ I sigh, longingly.
His eyebrow arches, ‘pretty! Fuck me, London; you can’t find a manlier expression?’ he scoffs.
‘But, you are a man-whore,’ I sigh, my face exposing my disappointment at this knowledge.
‘I guess it’s a manlier expression,’ he mutters. ‘You know nothing about me, how can you label me?’ He asks a little too casually.
‘What can I say, your reputation precedes you,’ I lift my hazy alcohol-fuelled lips to a full beam smile.
He glances over to his sister with a look that informs me he knows precisely where the information originated, before pulling me hard against his body.
‘Want to find out if it’s true?’ He flirts, outrageously.
‘Do women ever say yes to that cheesy pick up line?’ I grin. He flashes me his dimple and I almost swoon, ‘I guess so,’ I mumble, my eyes falling to his lips.
‘Sophie!’ Ellie calls, loudly, interrupting the intimate moment.
Begrudgingly, I turn in the direction of her voice and regretfully push myself away from the comfort of Nate’s chest.
‘I’m leaving, come in tomorrow for a catch-up,’ the slur in her voice is heavy, and I wonder how on earth she is going to be in the Diner at six a.m. tomorrow.
‘I thought you were my ride back to Marnie’s?’ I shock.
‘Nate is staying there, he can take you,’ she grins, as Eli pulls her away providing Nate and I a chin lift goodnight.
‘Your chariot awaits, milady,’ Nate calls in a terrible English accent.
‘That is awful,’ I mock.
‘You don’t like my English accent?’ He tests, light-heartedly.
‘Why do Americans presume we all speak identically to the characters from Downton Abbey?’ I state, laughing.
He pulls me back against him, both of his hands on my lower back, ‘your face becomes even more striking when you smile,’ he purrs down to me.
‘Yeah?’ I regard him with my finest come and get me look through my eyelashes.
‘Yeah!’ His voice is deep and smooth melting my insides.
‘Fuck, you are hot,’ I whisper, longingly.
‘Yeah?’ his lips twitch. ‘Guess it’s an improvement on pretty!’
I smile, ‘it’s a shame I’m merely a job to you, isn’t it?’ I tease, impishly, ‘I imagine it would have been fun to explore things further.’
He narrows his eyes as he stares down, ‘I don’t think you believe that Sophie Parker,’ he whispers. ‘But whether you chose to believe it or not, there’s no doubting something is sizzling between us here. Believe me when I tell you, we’ll explore.’ Removing his hands from the top of my butt, he takes one of mine and pulls us out into the fresh air.
When we enter the hotel, all is quiet. There is a woman sat behind the reception desk, who greets us warmly, her eyes lifting at surprise of our clasped hands.
‘It’s okay,’ I whisper, ‘I’ll fall if he doesn’t hold me up.’
She grins, and I snort with laughter. Nate growls, ‘what the fuck, woman,’ before tugging me into the lift. His face is comical, and I can’t help but giggle at the expression of disbelief that sits on his serious face. Incredulity, I imagine, that he finds himself in the company of a giggly, drunk woman who has too much to say for herself.
‘You,’ I poke him again, ‘are a very serious, sexy man, Detective Austin,’ I torment him.
He pushes me back against the wall of the lift, but the doors open before he has a chance to continue with whatever it was he was intending on doing.
‘Oops, saved by the doors,’ I giggle. I watch Nate’s lips twitch as he drags me into the corridor and to my door.
‘Key card,’ he holds out his hand.
‘So masterful,’ I sigh, as I dig in deep inside my handbag and locate it.
Pushing the door of number seventeen open, he pulls me inside and shuts the door firmly behind us. He steps forward, and I step back, a grin on my face. I feel exhilarated at the excitement building inside me. His lips stretch across his even teeth, ‘wanna play?’ his voice rumbles through me, leaving goose bumps on the surface of my skin.
‘Why not?’ Adrenaline rushes through my veins like a drug.
‘Jesus fuck,’ he growls, ‘you are so unbelievably beautiful,’ my back reaches the wall. It takes one more of his strides until he is plastered up against me, my breathing hitches, my body burns in anticipation of his touch.
Snaking one hand around to rest on the bottom of my spine, he moves the other up my arm, over my shoulder and curves it around my nape. I feel giddy, not from the alcohol I consumed but from the heady intensity of his eyes. His thumb strokes across my bottom lip before his fingers grasp my jaw, lifting me to his descending mouth.
The minute our lips touch, I gasp and his tongue plunges inside, eager to taste, to explore as it tangles against mine. The kiss rapidly heats as we lick and nibble, with a thirst that refuses to quench. I moan, pushing against his hard body, and he sucks in the moan as I move my hands around him, running them up and down his muscled back, craving more. I feel his hand move to stroke across my backside sending my insides molten.
‘Jesus, fuck,’ he groans against my lips.
‘Don’t stop,’ I pant, begging for more.
‘Don’t wanna,’ he pushes his evident erection against my abdomen, ‘you’re drunk, can’t take advantage,’ he groans against my neck.
‘Fuck that!’ I mutter, ‘I promise I’ll respect you in the morning,’ I whimper, desperately. He chuckles. ‘Don’t stop, Nate,’ I beg, seriously, sensing his detachment.
‘Sophie,’ he moves his forehead to mine. ‘Sorry babe, can’t do it. You wake up and regret it; that brings me all kinds of trouble. When I take you and rest assured it’s gonna happen, I want you fully conscious and aware of the implications.’
‘The implications?’ I frown, ‘what the bloody hell are you talking about?’
‘I’m working Oliver’s investigation, babe,’ he reminds me. ‘I get involved with you now it could be perceived as a conflict of interest.’
I freeze at Oliver’s name, what am I doing? I am having a party, and my brother is lying on a slab in some Denver mortuary?
‘Sophie,’ he feels my muscles tense. ‘Don’t shut down, babe,’ he purrs. ‘I swear as God is my witness, this is going to happen,’ he promises.
‘Step away,’ I push against him.
‘No!’ both his hands cup my face, his eyes penetrate mine, ‘don’t pull away, Soph,’ his lips move down and kiss me softly. ‘Rain check, yeah?’ he whispers against my lips.
‘Nate,’ I push again, and he reluctantly steps back. ‘You need to go,’ I murmur, quietly, feeling guilt swoosh through me like a high-speed train. ‘This is wrong. Oliver!’ I remind him.
He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, they are inexpressive. ‘Okay, but we will be revisiting this, Sophie,’ he promises. I lower my eyes, unable to bring myself to look at him. I all but threw myself at him; he rejected me. The story of my life.
********
I wake to the thumping effects of the Tequila of last night ringing through my head. Shit! I drank way too much. I cringe as the images of Nate filter through my hazy mind. What did I think I was doing?
I am here for Oliver, to stand in his corner and ensure justice for his murder, to lay him to rest. That reminds me, I need to arrange a funeral. I have no idea how to arrange a funeral so I will have to speak to the authorities to arrange for Oliver’s body to be brought back to Krystal. He would want to be here, amongst his friends. What’s the alternative, Boston, where our father is? No, I will lay him to rest here.
I have heard nothing from my dad, other than the initial phone call I received last week to inform me of my brother’s death. Even then he was cold and clinical, ending the call with a sentence that chilled me to the bone. I thought you might want to know, anyhow! What the fuck! Why the hell would I not want to know that my brother was dead? I was so stunned by hearing his voice for the first time that I let his comment slide.
Our father knew that we had recently reconnected and were building up to a relationship that would someday be as it should, an unbreakable bond between siblings. He never encouraged it, and sometimes even discouraged it, according to Oliver, reminding him that I was a stranger to them both and announcing his suspicion that I was seeking a pretend relationship with my brother to gain financially.
My father’s accusations couldn’t have been further from the truth. I desired nothing from my father, as far as I was concerned he was a name on a birth certificate, he was never a father of any description, towards me.
Oliver and I had almost reached the point of achieving that resilient bond and were growing closer by the day, but I still always saved a bit of me, for me alone. I never gave anyone all of me, willingly or otherwise. I had been living a solitary life for as long as I could remember, it was a hard habit to break.
Dragging myself out of my bed, I enter the bathroom and duck into the shower. Today, I can hopefully move into Ollie’s and attempt to piece together the events of the past few months.
********
Chapter Five
I walk into Ellie’s Diner to apprehend that I am in fact alone in my hangover.
‘How do you look bright eyed and bushy tailed?’ I complain as I plonk down onto my usual table.
Ellie laughs, ‘girl, I can almost drink my brother’s under the table, I don’t suppose I’ll have much trouble with a slip of a girl like you,’ she teases. ‘Tea?’
‘Coffee, please,’ I gently pull the oversized sunglasses from my eyes squinting at the daylight.
‘Wow, you must be suffering, you love your tea,’ she comments, ‘breakfast?’
‘Just a piece of toast, please El,’ I groan.
On return, Ellie brings a cup of coffee for herself and sits opposite me, an expectant glow to her face.
‘What?’ I ask, slowly.
‘Nate?’ She wiggles her eyebrows.
I groan, ‘don’t even go there,’ I put my head in my hands as embarrassment hits me, full force.
‘Give!’ She demands, before frowning, ‘well, not all of the details, of course, that would just be plain gross.’
‘Nothing to give,’ I shrug, sipping at the scalding coffee.
‘Come on Soph,’ she urges. ‘I know my brother, and he doesn’t lose his shit over a woman, they naturally throw themselves at him. No, he is staking his claim. Actually, that goes for both of my brothers,’ her lips twist at the irony. ‘Personally, I don’t see the attraction,’ she leans forwards, her elbows on the table in front of her, ‘did you get down and dirty?’ She whispers the final sentence.
‘No!’ I scold her, a little too loudly. I glance around to see if anyone was listening, it seems not.
‘So, you don’t find him attractive?’ She presses, tipping her head to one side to contemplate this. ‘That’s a sure way of gaining his attention.’
‘Yes,’ I sigh, ‘no!’
‘Use your words, girl,’ she watches the conflicting emotions cross my face with blatant interest.
‘He,’ I glance around the room again to ensure no one overhears me, ‘rejected me,’ I murmured, quietly.
‘Rejected you,’ Ellie repeats, seemingly perplexed by my confession. ‘Girl, I was their last night and witnessed how he looked at you,’ she shakes her head. ‘Maybe you misunderstood.’
‘Ellie, he told me that getting involved with me would be a conflict of interest,’ I state, clearly.
‘Say what?’ She frowns as bewilderment etches her expression.
‘He’s in charge of Ollie’s homicide investigation, he can’t get involved with me, in case it’s seen as a conflict of interest,’ I explain, logically.
A young redheaded girl places a plate of toast beside me, ‘thank you,’ I mutter up, gratefully. My stomach is churning with hunger, but at the same time feels incredibly delicate.
‘So, he does want you, but wants you to wait until he cracks the case?’ Ellie recaps.
‘When the case is closed, I’ll be going home, my friend,’ I notify her, nibbling on the piece of dry toast. I ignore the plunging of my gut at the prospect of leaving Krystal, without sampling the delights of a certain hot detective.
She regards me pensively for a few moments, ‘such a shame,’ she mutters, under her breath, ‘what’s at home?’
‘What’s at home?’ I repeat, dumbly.
‘Who’s waiting for you at home?’ She elaborates. ‘What are you going home for?’ I stare blankly over to her, speechless as my mind computes her questions.
‘I have friends, clients,’ I defend.
She nods, ‘no family?’ She murmurs, softly.
‘I have some family,’ I shrug. ‘An aunt and a few cousins. My best friend is in London, my goddaughter.’
Ellie nods, as if my admission has confirmed something within her mind.
********
Looking around my brother’s home, that sits above his salon; I allow the tears to fall silently. It’s hard to believe that he is gone for good, after suffering such a brutal death. The truth of the matter is that I never knew Ollie at all, not really and now I will never get the chance.
I had walked into the Sheriff’s office to check up on whether there were any developments, to be told by a Detective Johnson, that Ollie’s laptop, mobile phone, and bank accounts had been seized, due to the fact narcotics were involved.
I still struggled to comprehend that Ollie was involved in drugs. We spoke weekly, via the internet, where he looked both happy and healthy, a sure sign, in my mind, that he was living a clean life. Plainly, I was wrong. It seems it is possible to take drugs to function normally, which I now suspect was the case with Ollie.
The apartment was clean and relatively tidy, although it was hard to tell whether it was the cops that had returned things to how they were before they delved into his belongings and his life, or it was how Ollie chose to live.
When I had asked whether there was any further information regarding the investigation, Detective Johnson had informed me that Nate would be in contact when he returned from Denver City. He had also updated me to the fact that Nate was continuing the investigation from his office in the city, and wasn’t expected back until after the weekend. It seems that Nate was putting distance between us to ensure that last night’s kiss didn’t reoccur.
Kicking off my wedge sandals, I look under the sink to find some marigold gloves and cleaning products and set to work cleaning the entire apartment before I take residence.
********
Closing the door on the landlord, I wander into Ollie’s kitchen area and open the fridge to bring out a bottle of beer. The living and kitchen area was open planned, separated only by a breakfast bar. Pulling off the cap of the bottle with the contraption stuck to the fridge, I lift the bottle to my lips and suck back a healthy mouthful.
The more I delve, the more I discover about Ollie and his miserable life. I always assumed he had the better deal living a life of luxur
y with our father, rather than being dumped on unassuming relatives at birth, but it transpires that his life had been possibly harder than mine in a lot of ways.
Ollie had been behind on his rent, by three months. That also meant that he had been behind on his rent for the salon, also by three months. The only way the landlord would permit me to remain in the apartment was to settle Ollie’s arrears and to pay three months’ rent up front.
I step into the living room area and gaze down on the street outside. I could have returned to Marnie’s; she would have found me a room until the time came for me to return to England, but here I felt closer to Ollie, closer to finding out the reason why his life had swiftly gone down the pan. I also preferred my own space and Ollie’s provided me that luxury.
I had questioned Detective Johnson about Simon, but he had shaken his head reaffirming that Nate was in charge of the investigation, and the easiest thing to do was to speak to Nate. I had then pointed out that Nate wasn’t around and asked that maybe someone else could help, but he had updated me that Nate was working the case with his own people.
Frustrated, I had returned to the apartment to find the landlord standing in the middle of Ollie’s living room.
Making an on the spot decision, I put the bottle of beer on the side table and collect my keys from the dish on the work surface and run down the stairs to the salon.
********
On the following Sunday night, I finally receive a return call through from my father informing me that he had arranged Ollie’s funeral to take place in Boston. For the first time in my life, I argued with my dad. I expressed how Krystal was the perfect resting place for Ollie, seeing as he had made it his home for the past four years. As expected, he dismissed my claims and updated me that the service had already been organised for the following Thursday, he also remarked that there was no need for me to attend seeing as I hardly knew Ollie. That hurt, a lot.
He seemed oblivious to the fact that it was he that prevented that from happening. How could he not see that I would have loved to have had the opportunity to know my brother a whole lot more?
After reminding me he was Ollie’s next of kin, he hung up on me. I was powerless.
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