Ride or Dye (Curl Up and Dye Mysteries, #6)

by Aimee Nicole Walker

  I lifted my head and saw a blue jay perched on the back of a dining room chair. It took a second for my tired brain to register I wasn’t dreaming, and the bird was staring right at me. “How’d you get in here?” I asked.

  “You brought me,” Josh said sleepily. “Damn, you are getting old and forgetful.”

  “I was talking to the bird who’s serenading us this morning.” That’s when I noticed the doors to the balcony were standing wide open. “Josh, didn’t I shut the doors last night when we came in from the balcony?”

  “Of course,” he said. “You double-checked to make sure they were locked.”

  “They’re wide open now, and this bird invited itself inside our room.”

  Josh lifted his head and looked over at the blue jay. “Huh. There is a bird in our room, and the doors are hanging wide open. Must be a ghost.”

  “Or someone let themselves in our room while we slept,” I countered.

  “You would’ve heard someone enter our room. I’m pretty sure you sleep with one eye open.”

  “I slept through the balcony doors opening,” I pointed out to him.

  “Gabe, you act like you’re solving the mystery already.”

  “What did you say?” I asked. The bird must’ve realized that things were about to heat up in the room because it flew off.

  Josh froze. “Um, what did I say?” he asked, trying to sound confused.

  “You mentioned solving a mystery, but how did you know there was going to be a mystery? I never told you about it, and Geneva didn’t bring it up last night.”

  “Um, I think it was in the brochure,” Josh hemmed. “Yeah, it must’ve been.” He tried to pull out of my embrace, but I kept a tight grip on him.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” I asked.

  “Bathroom.”

  “Not until I get some answers out of you.” I rolled Josh to his back and positioned myself between his legs. I cupped his balls and gave them a firm but gentle squeeze. “How did you know we would be solving a case?”

  “It’s going to take a lot more than that to get me to confess,” Josh said.

  Challenge accepted. I kissed a path down his body until I reached his erect penis. I pressed my tongue against the spot beneath the head that drove him crazy. “Tell me.”

  “No can do, Captain.” Josh tucked his hands behind his head like he was relaxed and prepared to take his torture, but I knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. I was just getting started after all.

  I worked him with my tongue and lips, only sucking the head of his cock into my mouth, never giving him exactly what he wanted or taking him to the back of my throat. I knew the friction had to be driving him wild. I split my focus between torturing him and trying to figure it out on my own. I could tell Josh was tired of the games and ready to come but didn’t want to be the one to cry mercy.

  I released his cock and sat up suddenly in the bed when the answer hit me. “You saw the charge on the credit card statement. That’s why you were so chill about riding along with me.” Damn, I was disappointed he’d figured it out.

  “I didn’t go looking for it, babe,” Josh said softly. “I would’ve been surprised had the billing statement not arrived in my email this week.”

  “Were you ever going to tell me you knew?”

  “And ruin your surprise?” he asked. “Why would I? You put so much time and effort into this trip. My knowing in advance didn’t change how much I appreciate it, but it might’ve killed some of the joy for you.” He smiled broadly and said, “Live Action Role Play. I didn’t know you had it in you, Gabe.”

  His compliment distracted me enough that it took me a few seconds to realize the LARP event wasn’t a separate charge, and it wasn’t likely it showed up on the credit card statement which meant he went snooping when he saw the charge on the statement. “You little shit,” I said before I dug my fingers in to his inner thighs, tickling him until he kicked and squirmed. “You had to google the inn to know about the event later this week.”

  Josh’s tortured laughter echoed around our room. “I couldn’t help myself. I had to know why you chose this place out of more obvious destinations.”

  “What did you decide the answer was?”

  “You are the sweetest and most thoughtful man I know. You’re going to let me go Brenda Leigh Johnson on these unsuspecting people.”

  “I was thinking Sherlock Holmes, but Brenda works too,” I admitted.

  “You’ll bite your tongue and let me run the investigation, right?”

  “Of course,” I answered quickly. “I think you’ll make a wonderful detective.”

  “We’re going to kick LARP ass.”

  “Sunshine, this is just for fun,” I cautioned him. “You don’t want to piss off people we have to share the inn with.”

  “Winning is fun, Gabriel. Do you know what else is fun?”

  “Blow jobs before breakfast,” I suggested.

  “It’s like you can read my mind. You should be a cop.” Josh crooked his finger at me then added, “Blow jobs before breakfast in the sixty-nine position.”

  “I’M STARVING,” I SAID to Gabe as we made our way down the curving staircases. I just barely resisted the urge to slide down the gleaming banister. “Mmmm. I smell crisp bacon.”

  “How can you tell it’s crispy by the smell?” Gabe asked, doubting my skill.

  “Crispy bacon means it cooked longer, so it puts out more bacon-y aroma.” My voice sounded sure even though I was guessing.

  “You’re so full of it,” Gabe said, shaking his head.

  I leaned closer, nudging him with my shoulder. “I’m so full of you.” I grinned when Gabe’s face turned a light shade of pink. “Perhaps I did exaggerate my abilities, but I’m willing to wager there’s crispy bacon on the breakfast buffet.”

  “You don’t like buffets,” Gabe pointed out to me. It was true; I couldn’t stand the thought of people touching or sneezing on the food before I put it on my plate. The good Lord knew I adored my children, but kids were the grossest things on the planet. They always had their fingers in their noses or their diapers. It was next to impossible to keep them germ- and bacteria-free. Not to mention flies and bugs landing on uncovered dishes. It was enough to make a man shudder.

  “I will survey my surroundings and make a decision. I can always order something from the menu and have it cooked fresh for me.” I sounded like the diva I was born to be.

  “I’m going to risk life and limb and eat from the buffet,” Gabe told me dramatically. “Wait until you see the dining room and gathering areas. They are so beautiful, Sunshine. I thought the woodwork and craftsmanship in our house were amazing, but it’s nothing compared to what you’re about to see.”

  “Oh my,” I said in awe when I saw the back half of the house where the gathering rooms were located. “I didn’t expect the space to be so open. I wasn’t even sure it would be appealing, but the rooms are together but separated by the placement of the furniture. Look at the crown molding.”

  “Isn’t it stunning? I couldn’t believe my eyes when Rodney showed this house to me,” Geneva said, joining us. “How was your first night at Tarlington House? Did you sleep well?”

  “We were so tired from traveling we fell asleep while star gazing on the balcony,” Gabe said.

  “There’s nothing like fresh air to help a person fall asleep.”

  “Geneva,” Josh said softly. “I have a question for you that might sound strange.”

  “I doubt it, but go ahead and try your best to shock me.” The red lipstick she wore made her broad smile even prettier.

  “Gabe was certain he heard people singing in the forest surrounding the property when he woke up sometime in the middle of the night. It felt spiritual and supernatural to him. Has anyone else ever mentioned this to you?”

  “I’ve heard the songs myself,” Geneva replied. “What song did you hear, Gabe? ‘Wade in the Water’ or ‘Sweet Canaan’? Slaves used to sing songs while t
hey worked the fields, but they also used those lyrics to communicate about their escape plans. Since Tarlington didn’t have slaves, I think it’s echoes of the songs they sang as they made their way through the woods to the rivers. I imagine they had to remain very silent for most of their journey, but once they reached Tarlington land, they could sing out from the bottom of their souls.”

  Gabe paled when Geneva confirmed he’d probably heard ghosts. “I heard ‘Sweet Canaan.’ I…” Gabe’s words trailed off like he was lost in thought or unsure what to say.

  “They won’t hurt you, honey. Let me tell you, I wasn’t too keen on Rodney buying a former plantation home. I assumed our ancestors were bought, sold, worked to death, and abused here in horrific ways, but then I learned about Jeffrey Tarlington and his efforts to right an egregious wrong. Let me tell you boys, every hair on my body stood up the first time I heard those voices echoing through the darkness. The next morning, I started researching the songs and what those lyrics meant, and I realized those weren’t songs of sorrow but of hope. I don’t know if they made it safely north; I only know they did everything within their power to try. That’s a victory in itself. I can’t say if we’re hearing ghosts of the slaves walking through the trees at night or the forest is releasing the secrets it’s kept all these years. I just know I can feel bone-crushing pain over things that happened here in the South at the same time as I feel pride in my people. It also reminds me not to get complacent.”

  “I’m sorry to interrupt, Miss Geneva,” a young Hispanic lady said. “You have a phone call.”

  “Excuse me, gentlemen. I didn’t mean to keep you from your breakfast. I hope you enjoy,” Geneva said, smiling warmly.

  “I’d love to hear all about Tarlington House’s history sometime,” I told her. “Our home in Ohio has significant ties to the Underground Railroad system also. Maybe we can compare stories.”

  “I’m sure we’ll be able to find a quiet spot for an afternoon coffee during your stay,” Geneva replied with a wink before walking away, her employee trailing behind her chatting happily.

  “Let’s check out the buffet,” Gabe said. I knew his stomach’s demands wouldn’t be ignored much longer before it led a revolt.

  I followed Gabe into the open, airy dining room. Only a few people were eating at the time, and I wasn’t sure if it was because we were earlier or later than the rest of the guests. Some people got up early to cram every experience they could into their days while others used vacation to catch up on sleep and took a leisurely approach. I figured Gabe and I fell into the middle of those two types of vacationers. We weren’t eager to get up at the ass crack of dawn, but we did want to experience as much as we could in the hours we were awake.

  The first thing I noticed about the buffet was the beautiful layout of the antique sterling silver serving dishes with domed lids. The food wasn’t left out in the open for bugs to land on. “Not a booger picker in sight,” I whispered to Gabe.

  “Unless you consider the ones taller than five feet.”

  Just when I had worked up my courage to give the buffet a try, my husband had to ruin it. “Gabe,” I hissed. He linked our fingers and held tight before I could get away without making a scene.

  “You know I’m kidding,” he teased. “Just take a look to see what they’re offering before you go off half-cocked to find a table and menu.”

  “Stop winding me up,” I said, squeezing his fingers between mine.

  “Stop making it so damn easy.”

  Gabe didn’t release my hand until we reached the front of the line. He handed me a plate, and his eyes challenged me to take it. I never backed away from a challenge even when I should. My husband lifted the lid off the first dish and whispered, “Crispy bacon just like you said. I owe you a blow job.” We made no such bet, but I wasn’t about to refuse his talented mouth. Gabe used the tongs to put several pieces of bacon on both of our plates before we moved to the next dish. There were both sausage patties and links, so Gabe added one of each to both plates. I waved him off when he started to add ham from the third serving dish. “The scrambled eggs are cooked to perfection,” Gabe said, gesturing to the fluffy eggs that were dry instead of runny looking. He knew how much I hated wet-looking eggs. The next dish had Southern fried potatoes which included finely diced peppers and onions.

  “Don’t be stingy,” I told him when he added a piddly amount of potatoes. “Worried my ass will get big or something? Afraid I’ll bend the pole in my studio?”

  “I’m just trying to pace ourselves since there are several more dishes left to explore, and I know how you watch what you eat because you’re worried about those things, not me.”

  “Everybody knows vacation calories don’t count, Gabriel,” I said haughtily. “More potatoes, please.” Gabe pressed a kiss to my temple as he scooped more potatoes onto my plate.

  I did pass on the biscuits and gravy even though it looked delicious and smelled better than any I’d ever tried before. Maybe I’ll try a bite of Gabe’s. I chose a large Belgian waffle with a strawberry and banana compote instead of the gravy and biscuits.

  “Damn, that looks amazing,” Gabe said wistfully. He looked down at his plate and noticed there wasn’t any more room to add a waffle, nor was there room for anything else we might find under the remaining lids.

  “You can have half of my waffle if you give me a few bites of your biscuits and gravy.”

  “Deal,” Gabe said. “I see some bowls set out by the serving dishes down at the end. I bet you one of them is grits, and not the fake kind you Ohio people make.”

  “Fake grits?” I asked, following him down the line. “I bet there’s real oatmeal under one of those domes. Look at all the toppings they have set up. Brown sugar, cinnamon, raisins. I need to have some oatmeal.”

  “You people make those instant grits you buy at the store and toss some butter in there and call it a dish. It’s just nasty.” Gabe sniffed the air like he was following his nose. “Beneath this lid lies real grits made with cornmeal and love.” I smiled ridiculously as he whipped the lid off dramatically to reveal his beloved, nasty-ass grits. “You’ve never had real grits before, Sunshine. This will change your world.”

  “You’ll be wearing those grits if you so much as attempt to spoon them in my mouth. I cannot stand the texture. It’s like swallowing buttery sand.”

  “Sunshine, you’re not going to try them?” Gabe asked in a hurt tone.

  “Like the way you’ve refused to try different types of mushrooms?” I countered.

  “I cannot stand the texture,” Gabe said, repeating my words. I could tell he was fighting off a hard shudder. “Okay, so I understand your aversion to grits. There’ll be more for me then,” he said, spooning them into a bowl while I helped myself to a small serving of oatmeal.

  “If we finish this massive amount of food, then we can explore what’s beneath the rest of the lids we didn’t open,” I told Gabe as we sat down at an empty table.

  “Good morning,” a tall, lanky guy said as he approached the table. “I’m Ralph, and I’ll be your server this morning. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Orange juice?”

  Ralph? The kid looked like he was only nineteen years old. He must’ve been named after a grandfather. “Two coffees,” I told him.

  “I’ll be right back,” he replied cheerfully.

  Ralph returned a few minutes later with a carafe of coffee, two cups, and a variety of creamers and sugars. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

  Our mouths were full of food, so we just offered a friendly wave in response. Midway through our meal, a smiling gray-haired lady with a clipboard stopped by our table. “I know you’re eating, so I won’t take up much of your time. I just wanted to introduce myself quickly. I’m Juliette, and I’m the activities director here. I’m in charge of arranging all the excursions you see in the brochure. My direct line is listed in the contact information, or you can stop by my office. It’s on the left side of the registration desk.
I hope you’ll enjoy your stay.”

  “Is that like Julie the cruise director?” I asked when we were alone.

  “Who?” Gabe asked.

  “Love Boat,” I replied.

  “I’ve never seen the show,” Gabe told me with a shrug before he cut himself a chunk of my waffle. “I was surprised to see how many excursions they offered. Horseback riding and a picnic, canoeing and a picnic, jet skis and tubing… I think we’re going to have an amazing trip.”

  “I know we are,” I replied.

  After breakfast, we exited out of the patio doors between the two gathering areas. There was a large deck offering a gorgeous view of the back lawn which was massive. The entire space was enclosed by a low stone wall covered in flowering vines. There were several outdoor sitting areas beneath canopies to offer shade from the hot sun. Through it all was a paver stone path leading to a wrought iron gate. Beyond the gate, you could see the walking path disappear into the trees.

  “Let’s see where the path leads,” I told Gabe. “I assume it will take us toward the stables where they keep the horses or the river where all the water activities take place.”

  “I do need to work off some of this food,” Gabe replied.

  “It would be a beautiful place to read a book,” I said to Gabe, gesturing at a comfortable-looking hammock anchored to two large oak trees. “Or nap.”

  “The online pictures for this place didn’t do it justice,” Gabe said. “It’s amazing.”

  I wanted to hear the singing Gabe had heard earlier that morning, but the only singing I heard when we strolled hand in hand through the forest was from birds. The path was longer than I expected, but it opened into another flat area with a horse stable and other buildings that appeared to be residential on the left and another winding path through more trees on the right.

  “Which do you want to look at first?” I asked Gabe.

  “Let’s continue on the path. It should lead us to the river. We’ll check out the four-legged beasts on our trip back.”