by Lena Hart
“Nice how?”
She shrugged. “Just the way she would say things and she kept calling me ‘hon’, like—oh my God.” Judith stared at him with wide, dazed eyes, her mouth gaped open.
His muscles bunched with concern. “What?”
But her eyes were unfocused as she stared off, trapped in her thoughts. He closed the folder and tossed it on the table. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her to him, out of her thoughts and back to him.
“Judith, what is it?”
“I think I know her. I think it was Laurie. Laurie Fiori. She was a waitress at Mia Bella’s, the restaurant I worked in before I came to Royal Courts. I think she was from New York or New Jersey and that’s why I thought I recognized her accent. She would always call everyone ‘hon’ and was always nice to me.”
“Do you still keep in touch with her?”
Judith shook her head. “I haven’t seen or heard from her since I quit months ago. I wasn’t really close to anyone there, but she was always so friendly and talkative, she was probably the only person I could say I had full conversations with that wasn’t about the job. And I-I think I must have told her that I was coming to work at Royal Courts.”
“How did she know about you?”
She flinched. “When I found Prince, it was outside the restaurant one night. I mentioned to Laurie that I would be adopting him and I think I let it slip that I was adopted.”
He continued to rub her back, trying to ease the tension in her. That bit of information wouldn’t have gotten the woman much, but Carlos didn’t tell her that. The probability that the woman wasn’t working alone in this was high. There was someone with a lot more money and motive behind this.
“Anything else?” Carlos prompted. “Did she ever mention Royal Courts or seem desperate for money?”
“Actually no. If anything, she would always gush over the rich guy who she was dating. There were rumors that she was dating the owner of the restaurant, but she had never confirmed or denied them and she was always careful not to mention his name. Ever. I figured she was either making him up or she really was dating the owner. Either way, she never seemed to want for money.”
Maybe money hadn’t been a motivator but, for whatever reason, the woman had been looking for something. Carlos’ mind raced as he thought of his next steps. Finally, they were getting somewhere.
“I’ll have Tristan do some digging on this woman. And if you’re certain she’s the one who called you that day, then maybe we’ll find something that’ll connect it all back to her.”
Judith nodded. “I’m certain it was her.” She paused for a moment then said quietly, “I got a call from the Agency the other day. I told them I would be in touch with them as soon as I was ready to leave.” She fell silent for a heartbeat. “They want me to start thinking of a new name.”
Carlos’ brows snapped together. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said strongly. The thought of her leaving filled him with a dark void. There was a hidden despair in her eyes that said she also didn’t want that.
“You trust me, right? Then don’t leave. I promise, I won’t let Kenneth Tate get anywhere near you,” he said. “Not while I’m around.”
Though Carlos needed to find this woman who had targeted Judith and find out what it was she had been trying to steal from Royal Courts, he first wanted to make sure Kenneth Tate was where he was supposed to be and that he kept his distance.
“What do we do now?”
He rubbed his thumb across her cheek, enjoying the smooth feel. He wanted to wipe the anxious look in her eyes, to see her smile again.
“Well, we’re both on leave, so why don’t we make the most of it.”
She frowned in confusion. “You took time off?”
“Let’s just say, Carrone highly recommended it.”
“So you’re not leaving here?” she asked, a faint hopefulness in her guarded gaze. “You’ll stay here with me?”
“Do you want me to?”
She glanced down at her hands. He hooked his finger under her chin and turned her back to face him.
“Do you?”
She nodded. “Yes, I’d like that.”
“Good,” he said, brushing his thumb across her cheek. “Because I plan to.” He couldn’t resist any longer. He leaned over and placed a kiss on her soft lips. “You know, it’s okay to tell me what you want and how you feel. I want to know. Okay?”
She stared at him searchingly. “Okay.”
He didn’t need to tell her just yet that he planned to resign. Right now, he was alone with her, away from the world and his responsibilities and he planned to enjoy every minute of it. And he would start by taking her mind off everything except him.
“I think they miss me.”
“Who?”
“Your lips,” he said with a slow smile, glancing down at her mouth. “It might be time for another reunion.”
He didn’t know if her coy smile was genuine or playful. It didn’t matter. It was captivating.
“Again?”
He nodded. “Again,” he murmured then gently pressed his lips against hers. Their lips moved slowly against each other—demanding nothing but exploration. Her fingers ran through the tapered ends at the back of his hair and he groaned low at the soft caress. He drew in her lower lip into his mouth and sucked at it leisurely. Just as he began to deepen the kiss, the shrill ringing of his cell phone punctured their cocoon of desire.
With a low groan, he pulled away from her and reached for it. It was Tristan.
“Answer it,” Judith said, rising from the couch. “I have to feed Prince anyway then I’m jumping in the shower.”
Carlos watched as she made her way to the kitchen. Prince suddenly appeared from behind the couch and began trailing after her. “Sure you don’t want to wait for me to join you? Saving water saves the world, babe.”
She laughed. “Maybe later,” she said over her shoulders, but he didn’t mistake the stiffness in her tone as she headed to the bathroom.
He sighed and answered the phone. It was still apparent to him that she was still self-conscious about him seeing her body. He didn’t know what he could do or say that would convince her that she didn’t need to hide herself from him. He would just have to give her time.
“Where are you?” Tristan’s annoyed tone cut through his thoughts.
“With Judith,” Carlos said. “Why?”
She had told him about Tristan’s little visit yesterday and Carlos wasn’t too thrilled with his cousin coming to see her without him knowing. Even if it was to convince her to open up to him, as Judith had defended, Carlos could do without the secret meetings and the meddling.
Tristan was silent for a moment. “I just went by your place… so you spent the night there?”
Carlos rolled his eyes at his cousin’s surprise. “Yeah.”
“Did she tell you?”
“Everything. But next time—”
“Yeah, I know,” Tristan broke in. “And I wanted to tell you, but she had to be the one to do it herself.”
With that, Carlos agreed, despite his mild annoyance.
“Anyway, I got your message, but I’ve hit a brick wall with that phone number,” Tristan said. “So unless—”
“I have a name,” Carlos interjected “Laurie Fiori.”
“How?”
“Judith remembered the woman’s voice.”
Carlos quickly filled his cousin in on what she’d remembered exactly. He could practically hear Tristan’s brain churning.
“That’s a start,” Tristan finally said. “But that doesn’t prove she was the one who sent Judith those things.”
“I know, but it doesn’t hurt to ask, right? Find out where she is and I’ll set up a meeting. Either way, whether she agrees to meet or not, I’ll have an answer.”
“The whole thing just seems odd. What would a waitress need to steal from a casino?”
“I think you just answered your own question.”
“Then let m
e clarify,” Tristan said. “Why would she go to such lengths? What the hell was she looking for?”
“That’s exactly what I want to know and this woman seems to be our best chance at getting some answers.”
“Well, like you said, it certainly doesn’t hurt to ask.”
Carlos grunted. “Now, I need another favor.”
Tristan cursed. “Seriously? You know, I have my own shit to get to.”
“This is quick.” Carlos paused to hear if the shower in the bathroom was still running before he continued. “Just find out where Kenneth Tate is.”
“He’s still in California, in a Halfway House,” Tristan said smoothly. “I checked him out yesterday, before I came to see Judith. He’s been keeping quiet and checking in with his PO regularly.”
Though that should have eased some of Carlos’ tension, it didn’t. Violent rage just at the thought of the bastard burned within him, and he wanted to know exactly where Kenneth Tate was. For his peace of mind, he told himself.
“Can you get me an address?”
A long pause filled the line before Tristan responded. “No.”
“Why not?” Carlos barked.
“Because I don’t need you to do anything stupid.”
Carlos grip tightened around his cell phone. “I won’t,” he snapped. “I just want to be sure that son-of-a-bitch is as far from Judith as I can make happen.” He hated that she was still afraid. Nothing had ever made him feel so helpless and the only thing he could do was to try and keep his promise and make sure the bastard stayed away from her.
“And he is,” Tristan said then let out a heavy sigh. “Look, I know you love her and want to give the guy what’s probably been a long time coming, but you’re no good to any of us—to her—if you get your ass locked up.”
But you didn’t see what I saw.
Carlos kept the words unsaid. From what Judith had told him last night, no one knew that the bastard had tried to kill her. Carlos glanced at the folder and the hairs in the back of his neck still prickled at the thought of how close he had come to succeeding.
But it wasn’t just her physical scars. His cousin hadn’t seen the haunted look on her face or the fear that she tried to keep buried inside her, when she spoke about what had happened. Carlos had always noticed everything about her and that was something she couldn’t keep hidden from him, despite her best efforts. He only wished he’d recognized the signs of someone who’d gone through such a traumatic experience sooner.
“Fine,” Carlos finally said. “But I want you to let me know if anything changes with him.”
“Sure. Just take care of your girl. She needs you right now.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Are you finally going to tell me what you’re cooking?” Carlos asked, coming into the kitchen.
It had been a big surprise all day, and his curiosity was getting the best of him. They were quickly eating through the packaged foods he’d brought that Saturday night and she’d insisted on making them a proper home-cooked meal.
Judith looked up from the baking dish she was oiling and smiled. “Your favorite. Chicken tamale casserole.”
He returned her smile, but it was strained. “So that’s why you wanted my aunt’s number?”
She nodded. “She mentioned this was your favorite. I wanted to make it for you and she was nice enough to give me the recipe.”
Carlos walked up to her and looked down at the assortment of familiar ingredients lining the counter and stifled a groan. Judith had asked to speak to his aunt that morning, then had him take her to a nearby grocery store, which had been more than a half hour drive, only to surprise him with the last thing he wanted to eat tonight.
To this day, he regretted the little white lie he’d told his aunt. Everyone in their family hated what she believed was her best dish, but he’d been young and eager to please and like an idiot, had gone on to praise it.
“Baby, you didn’t have to go through the trouble.”
Her smile widened. “I know, but I wanted to.” She went back to preparing the baking dish. “But don’t get used to it,” she added with a small laugh. “I don’t plan to spoil you like your aunt does.”
Carlos lips curved. His aunt did tend to spoil him, but that was because he went out of his way to please her. Or at least he tried. She was the only woman who came close to being a mother to him. Growing up, she kept the spirit of his own mother alive by telling him as much as she could about her, and he loved her for that.
He just hated her chicken tamale casserole.
But every year, especially on his birthday, he had that to look forward to. All because he had wanted to spare his aunt’s feelings. Watching Judith now, he knew he would also do the same.
He sighed. “Need any help?”
“Sure. Here,” she said, handing him the glass dish. “Mix in the corn muffin mix with the rest of those.”
They switched places and he began to throw in everything she had set aside on the counter into a large bowl—the cheese, milk, can of corn, and corn mix. Judith continued to shred the cooked chicken breast and mix in the spices and sauce in a separate bowl.
Carlos didn’t do much cooking, not even for himself, but he followed direction well and proceeded to pour the corn mix in the glass dish Judith had pointed to. Just as he was about to place the dish in the oven, she stopped him.
“Wait. I think we’re supposed to mix some of these in there.”
Judith threw in the rest of her spices and some red and green peppers in the corn mix. For some reason, that didn’t seem right to him, but then he’d never really watched his aunt make the casserole so he couldn’t be sure. Carlos put the dish in the oven then leaned against the counter, content to just watch her.
He’d spent the past few days with her at the house and it had made up for the lost time he’d spent without her. It was nice, this moment alone. They got a chance to leave everything behind and get to know each other. But the week was fast coming to an end. He’d promised his uncle that he’d be at his aunt’s party early to help set up and he wasn’t going to bail on him. But then, neither did Carlos plan to leave Judith behind or let her out of his sight. The only option left was to take her with him.
“How would you like to go to a party?”
She glanced up at him curiously, still shredding and mixing the remaining ingredients in the bowl. “Tonight?”
He chuckled. “No. This Friday night. It’s my aunt’s birthday.”
“Oh, right. Yes, that should be fun.” Then her eyes widened. “Oh no, did I miss yours?”
He frowned. “No, mine’s was two weeks ago, but how did—” He snapped his mouth shut, remembering the little lie he told her to get her to have dinner with him. That seemed like eons ago.
She was obviously remembering too, and her brow rose slightly, but she said nothing.
He groaned. “Okay, I know. I’m an ass. Just say it. I can take it.”
“It’s fine,” she said a little too serenely. “Just glad to know I already missed it.”
“Ouch,” he said, grabbing his chest. “That hurts.”
She laughed. “You said you could take it. Besides, I was thinking manipulative ass.”
He smiled crookedly. “Manipulative? That sounds so demeaning. I would say I’m an opportunistic ass.”
She shook her head and returned her attention to the bowl. “So how old are you now?”
“Thirty-three,” he said, studying her closely. “Too old, according to my aunt, to still be unattached.”
“Well,” she began, “I’m sure when you’re ready it won’t be hard for you to find a woman to attach yourself to.”
She kept her attention to the bowl and he couldn’t read her expression. Her tone said she was teasing, but he couldn’t be sure.
“It’s actually proving harder than you think.”
Her movements stilled briefly, but she said nothing. He knew she still had her doubts about how he felt for her. Though nothing she’d tol
d him about her past changed how much he wanted her, he couldn’t shake the irrational desolation he already felt at not being able to have children with her. It was silly of him, and maybe even a little selfish, but having children—his own children—had always been something he’d expected in his future and he was already missing them.
But if that’s what he had to give up in order to have Judith in his life, then he would just have to cope with the premature sense of loss.
Eventually the corn muffins were ready and he bent over to pull them out of the oven. Her next words nearly caused him to drop the glass dish.
“You must be a baker, ’cause you’ve got a nice set of buns.”
He let out a bark of laughter and placed the hot dish on the counter.
“I’m glad you noticed,” he said still chuckling. Though he’d seen her playful side before, it surprised him, this sexual teasing without his prompting.
While he held the dish, she began pouring the chicken mixture over the baked bread.
“Hmm, smells good,” he said. “Better than I remember.”
And it was true. He couldn’t remember the casserole smelling so savory while his aunt was preparing it.
She beamed at that. “Thanks.”
He stared down at her bent head and couldn’t help but add, “The food smells good too.”
She shook her head, trying to contain her smile. When she finished, he slid the dish back into the oven then caught a glimpse of Prince ambling into the kitchen.
“There’s the little prince,” Carlos muttered. “Almost forgot about him.”
The cat let out a loud meow before affectionately brushing himself against his leg. Carlos leaned down and patted his head. “Hello to you too.”
As soon as Judith opened a can of cat food, Prince ambled from his side and began rubbing around her leg.
Carlos shook his head. “Opportunist,” he muttered.
She snorted as she placed the dish in front of Prince and he dove right in. “It must be a guy thing.”