Wicked After Midnight (Midnight Blue Beach Book 1)

by Olivia Jaymes

  Abruptly Bailey stepped back, almost banging her head against the door. “I am too. So I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She moved quickly but he had good reflexes as well. His hand reached out and held the door in place, forcing her to turn around and look at him. “Is everything okay, Bailey? Are you angry with me about earlier? I thought we both enjoyed it but maybe I was wrong.”

  He hoped he wasn’t.

  She sighed and leaned against the door frame, staring down at the carpet for a long moment before looking up at him. “I’m not angry at you, Chase. You’ve been great. I’m angry at me.”

  He let go of the door, his arm falling to his side as disappointment crashed through him. It was two steps forward with her but now three steps back. He’d thought they were making progress and that she felt the same attraction he did.

  “You’re angry at yourself because we kissed?”

  “I can’t start anything up right now. The timing is bad, you have to admit. Plus the whole long-distance thing. At first, I thought I could just be casual about it all but I think I might not be the casual type. I think I’m the relationship type.”

  Swallowing hard, Chase didn’t respond right away. “You want a relationship? You mean like marriage?”

  Bailey half groaned and half laughed. “Oh hell no. I can’t see myself getting married again but I don’t also see myself having a casual fling with a handsome guy while I’m here. I’m looking for something in between those two extremes.”

  That didn’t sound as scary as matrimony and until-death-do-us-part.

  “That’s not out of the question.”

  Her lips quirked up in a gentle smile. “Is that what you want? Really?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted. “In my defense I’ve enjoyed being single and you and I have just met recently.”

  “All the more reason to move slowly. As I said, the timing of this sucks because I’m here to do something important. Maybe when I’m done…”

  “We can talk about it again,” he finished for her.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Chase. I’m not seeing anyone else or even looking to date anyone else. I know that tonight didn’t come out of nowhere. We’ve been working up to it and it was amazing. But to be honest? It scared the hell out of me. I didn’t expect this when I came here and I’m not sure I’m emotionally prepared to go any further.”

  He didn’t bother to argue that it had been five years or that she was still young and beautiful. That she deserved happiness and fulfillment. Bailey was an intelligent woman. She knew all of that already. Plus, arguing her point seemed pushy and that was the last thing he wanted to be with her. He wasn’t a man that had to convince a woman to share his bed. He wanted it to be just as much her idea as it was his.

  “Fair enough,” he conceded, moving away from her so he wouldn’t be tempted to try those full lips again. “We’ll do this at your pace. But I want you to know one thing, Bailey.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I liked that kiss a hell of a lot and I want to do it again. I think you’re gorgeous and funny. You make me laugh and you challenge me in a way I haven’t been in a long time. I’d like to see where this goes but I understand if you don’t. I’ll respect that because I respect you and everything you’ve been through that’s brought you to this point. But if you change your mind, I’m right here.”

  Her mouth hung open and her eyes were wide with shock. She hadn’t been expecting his moment of truth. Good, she was a woman who needed surprises. Often. She’d become complacent with her life, which was easy to see.

  “Okay.”

  One word. Simple and to the point.

  “Okay?”

  She nodded. “Yes, okay. It means that I’ll keep that in mind. You’ve given me a lot to think about here, Chase. I’m sure I’ll have to thank you at breakfast for a sleepless night.”

  “Alright then.”

  Whistling as he walked down the hall to the elevator, he smiled to himself and waited for the fear or trepidation to set in but it didn’t come. Instead, there was a rightness to what he’d told her. Bailey Scott wasn’t just any woman and that kiss hadn’t been a fluke.

  At least he wouldn’t be the only one awake all night.

  Chase couldn’t sleep, so instead of tossing and turning he dragged his fatigued carcass out of bed and went straight back to the case file. Leafing through the papers, he found what he was looking for. The Evandria Council. Since he couldn’t sleep he might as well do some research. He settled into his recliner, only the glow from the laptop screen lighting the room.

  One Google search later, he’d learned quite a bit but nothing that helped.

  The Evandria Council was founded in 1861 by a group that broke off from the Freemasons, although why wasn’t clear. Sources said it was a power struggle but there were rumors that it was a separation due to differing opinions on the role of the federal government. The rules and ceremonies were secret and even the Internet couldn’t shed much light on that. It did say that the code of behavior was strict and punishment for infractions was harsh. Blackballing a member was considered worse than death.

  Membership dues were astronomical with a yearly fee in the seven-figure range, plus they had to promise to leave thirty percent of their estate to the group when they passed on. But the benefits of belonging were lavish. The council owned a huge parcel of land in Central Florida that included an estate, horses, tennis courts, a golf course, and a swimming pool. Parties were held at least one weekend every month and members were encouraged to network and play. Billion dollar business deals were made on the eighteenth putting green or during cocktail hours.

  Midnight Blue Beach, however, was where the official meetings were held in a building called The Clubhouse. Those meetings were only for the highest officials of the group and to attend one had to be invited.

  The Evandria Council was rumored to part of the Illuminati, who were supposedly responsible for the French Revolution. The Council’s mission statement said it was created to uphold social justice and free the world’s citizens from oppression.

  Worthy goals, depending on how they planned to do it. One person’s good deed was another’s evil action.

  “I’m a cynical bastard,” Chase muttered under his breath as he scrolled through the website, taking note of the long list of charitable efforts of the group. Hospitals, youth outreach, food pantries, just to name a few. Hundreds of millions were donated in their name every year. Yet few people had heard of them. Either they had a lousy publicist or they were trying to keep their actions under wraps.

  Snapping the lid of his laptop shut, Chase sighed and closed his eyes, letting the tension drain from the tight muscles in his shoulders and neck. More information that didn’t help at all but it didn’t hurt either. So what if all the men were members of the club? They were friends, so it wasn’t any kind of a shock. It did explain how the families would have enough powerful connections to get the investigation shut down though.

  Now he was going to dig it all up again, and probably pissing off more than a few people.

  It was one of his favorite things to do.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Bailey didn’t exit Chase’s car even though he’d opened the passenger door and was standing there waiting. Frankly, she wasn’t sure she wanted any part of this and was puzzled as to how he’d talked her into it. She could only blame it on the lack of caffeine in her system. She didn’t make good decisions until after her second cup of coffee.

  “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

  Chase didn’t reach for her or in any way pressure her. He simply stood his ground and smiled indulgently as if he’d expected her protests.

  “You’ll love it. It’s the perfect way to start the day and really get the blood pumping. We’re killing two birds with one stone here this morning. A run in Colonial Williamsburg. You’ll get your exercise and see a historical landmark.”

  She did want to see the delight
fully restored district but she didn’t want to do it while running. Her boobs were too big for this despite lashing them to her chest with two bras tightened to the second hooks. When he’d asked her if she had shorts and a t-shirt she should have known he was up to something. She should have lied and told him no.

  She tried another tactic. “I’ll just slow you down and it will be no fun for you.”

  “I’m in the mood for a nice, light jog. We’ll go slow and stop anytime you want to take a closer look at something or just need a break.”

  This time he held out his hand so she inwardly groaned and took it, letting him help her out of the vehicle. Her mind was already working on ways to get even with him. Maybe she’d teach him to crochet.

  “You know I hate you for this, right?”

  Laughing, he led her to the uneven sidewalk. They’d parked in the merchant’s part of the village and it was so early in the morning none of the shops were open yet. When he’d said he wanted to get an early start she thought that meant a big breakfast.

  “It’s okay if you hate me.” He pointed to his right. “The restored area is this way. We’re going to stay on the road which isn’t open to traffic. Don’t step in horse poop.”

  Wait. What?

  He began a few stretches and she followed suit, not really sure if it would do any good. Surely she would be nursing sore muscles and possibly two sprained ankles by the end of this. With any luck he’d have a big knot on his head where she’d hit him after she tripped over her own feet.

  They started off at an easy pace despite his much longer legs. He wasn’t even breathing heavy or sweating despite the humidity while she was becoming short of breath. She wanted to stop and buy a coffee and a cinnamon roll.

  “Don’t think about your feet or your body. Look at the scenery and think about what it might have been like over two hundred years ago. I’m going to take you right down the main drag which is the Duke of Gloucester Street.”

  Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. His advice was spot on and soon she was too absorbed in the beauty of the historic area to notice the aches and pains from the unaccustomed physical exertion. The little houses were darling and she breathed in the sweet air perfumed with flowers…and the past. She was a woman of the modern era but she could see herself running her bakery and talking to the townsfolk, indulging in gossip or debate over whether to declare independence from Britain.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Chase grinned. “Let’s go up the Palace Green so you can see the Governor’s Palace. We need to come back so you can take a tour. The original home burned down and it was reconstructed in the 1930s on the original site.”

  If the inside of the house was anything like the outside, it was amazingly impressive. The lawns were carefully manicured and the facade was well-maintained. If it wasn’t original, they’d done a good job of making it look that way. But even a beautiful home couldn’t stop the stitch in Bailey’s side. She gasped and stopped, holding her ribs and bending over to catch her breath.

  “I need a minute.”

  Or fifteen. Or a leather recliner and an umbrella drink.

  To her surprise, his hand settled over the exact spot and began to lightly massage the cramp. Now her problem wasn’t a stitch in her ribs but a man this close that was making it hard to breathe. She stepped back and held up a hand.

  “I’m fine. I just need to rest.”

  She didn’t imagine the look of hurt that crossed his features but he nodded. “What you need to do is walk around. Standing won’t help. Why don’t we head down the street and you can see more of the district?”

  It would have been churlish to refuse and she’d already hurt his feelings, so she followed him as he showed her points of interest – a tavern, the courthouse and magazine, even a shoemaker.

  “You really love this.”

  His cheeks were a ruddy shade but it could have been from running rather than embarrassment.

  “I do. I love history and I especially love Revolutionary War history. I think I’ve read every book ever written about it and the Founding Fathers.”

  “I love it too,” she admitted. It was strange to realize they had more in common than just the past. “One summer during college me and a friend took a trip to Boston and did all the touristy stuff. I loved it.”

  His face lit up with a wide smile. “I did too. As I looked out on Boston Harbor I could actually imagine crates of tea being thrown overboard into the water.”

  Bailey shook her head and grinned. “Such a waste of good tea, too.”

  “All for a good cause. How about we start jogging again?”

  Sighing, she agreed but this time she kept a slower pace that honestly wasn’t much faster than an energetic walk, but Chase didn’t complain. When they reached the end of the street, they crossed over to another main road and jogged that way, enjoying the morning air and saying very little. Every now and then he would point something out but for the most part they were quiet until they reached the car.

  Stretching her tired muscles, she couldn’t help but admire Chase’s physique as he bent over to touch his toes. He was well-built but lean too, his muscles defined but not bulging. She’d never gone for that type. He lifted the hem of his shirt, waving it to let in some cool air and revealed a perfectly formed six-pack. Damn.

  “See?” he said, digging the car keys from his pocket. “It’s a great way to start the day. Fresh air and physical exercise. It gets the blood flowing to the brain, plus you can feel smug all day long knowing you did something good for your body.”

  “My body wanted a stack of pancakes with maple syrup. Or maybe a bear claw.”

  “Both of those things can be arranged. Do you want a shower first?”

  What she really wanted was to have her head examined. She’d been so sure last night that they shouldn’t be going any further in this relationship – or whatever it was – but this morning she wasn’t as positive. She liked this man, dammit. She liked him a lot and it wasn’t fair that she had all this baggage hanging around her when in her heart she was ready to move on.

  And yet he was standing there as if last night never happened. Like they were simply two friends out for a side-splitting run. No kissing. No touching. No desire. It was kind of pissing her off. She didn’t answer his question, instead posing one of her own.

  “Do you do this a lot?”

  His brows furrowed at her query. “Do what? Run? About five or six times a week. When the weather’s good, every day.”

  “No, this. Kiss a girl and then the next day act like it never happened. Do you do that a lot?”

  A smile spread across his face. “Not often, no. I’m doing this because I thought it was what you wanted me to do. You slapped me down last night. I remember that part quite clearly.”

  Bailey regarded the pavement, not able to meet Chase’s eyes. “Well…yeah. I mean, I’m right. It’s terrible timing and I’ve got all this crap I need to figure out. None of this screams start a relationship. But I don’t know…you’re acting like it didn’t happen at all.”

  “So are you.”

  She lifted her head so their gazes met. “I’m confused if you can’t tell. I haven’t dated since college and I wasn’t all that good at it then either.”

  Chase leaned against the car, playing with the keys in his hand. “I like you, Bailey. A whole lot. I think you like me too. I understand protecting your heart because I’m not anxious to get hurt either, to be honest. But I’m not sure we have much choice about this. We have feelings for each other and if we try and deny them we’re going to be miserable.”

  It had only been a few hours and she already was unhappy. “So what do you suggest?”

  His hand reached out and tucked a strand of flyaway hair behind her ear, caressing her cheek with his fingertips. “Take a chance. On digging up the past. On me. Close your eyes and jump, Bailey. We just might be worth it.”

  He didn’t know how much he was asking. Her entire life had been about structure an
d discipline. It had been what had pushed her through school and snagged her a scholarship to one of the best universities in the country. Then later it had served her well during her marriage and when she’d started her bakery. It was safe and predictable. Comforting.

  “I’m not sure I’m capable of that. It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just…I may not literally have the ability.”

  He held out his hand in offering. “You don’t have to do it alone. I’m here.”

  “I’m afraid to fail. Then we both get hurt and I don’t want to do that.”

  But her hand had a mind of its own and she found their fingers curled together.

  “How about we take this one step at a time. A date. One simple meal. Bailey Scott, can I buy you breakfast?”

  That wasn’t too scary. Food and lots of daylight. People all around them. It wasn’t dancing in the moonlight with candles and champagne. Like last night, and look where that had led them.

  She held his hand tightly, her inner demons fighting a battle to the death. It would be so easy to say no and stay in that spot where she didn’t have to worry or try. But that place was becoming less hospitable with every passing day. She couldn’t stand back and watch from the sidelines. She had to play the game.

  She wasn’t a wuss. She was a survivor and she had ample proof.

  “I can do that.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Taylor Richardson lived in the cul-de-sac of a tony neighborhood outside of Washington D.C. Graceful brick mansions and long, sweeping driveways conjured up images of ladies in white gloves sipping mint juleps on a white-columned front porch.

  Bailey glanced down at her simple flowered sundress and sandals. “I think I may be underdressed.”