by Elise Noble
“Please?”
The chance to have her in my arms, even temporarily, was too much of a temptation to turn down.
“Okay. Okay, I’ll do whatever you want.”
And deal with the aftermath when the time came.
18
A Few Words from Cupid…
He watched as Brooke and Luca danced around each other, a mating ritual he’d never quite felt comfortable with. When they kissed, little flames of anger licked up his insides, but he paused and took stock of the situation. Tamped down the sparks. His self-control was excellent—every daring move was rehearsed in advance and executed with precision. He was a magician. An escape artist. The Magnificent Pretender!
This was why he hadn’t been caught.
Oh, they’d come close once, they being the fools on the school disciplinary board. A bunch of stiffs who probably fucked their tight-assed wives in the missionary position monthly on a schedule. But it turned out that colleges really didn’t like scandal, so the whole affair got swept under the proverbial carpet and he moved on.
Coos Bay made a surprisingly good hunting ground.
He’d tried various cities, states, countries, but there was something about rural Oregon… The prey was so trusting, so guileless, and even if one of the girls had reported their suspicions, the Coos County sheriff was a bumbling idiot who should have retired years ago. But the voters kept electing the man, which didn’t say much for their IQs either.
Probably why it had been so easy to keep up the act. People around here took you at face value, what you saw was what you got. And what they got was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
Sure, he’d tried dating the traditional way, had no problem getting women to sleep with him. But where was the fun in that? For him, the thrill came in the chase. The game. Take Brooke, for example… The first time with her, he’d acted on impulse—she’d strayed into his territory, an innocent lamb, standing outside Adeline’s apartment building with a drink in her hand as she gazed up at the night sky. She just needed some air, she said. They’d chatted—Brooke a little distant but unfailingly polite, him hiding behind a veneer of charm.
She hadn’t even noticed when he slipped the roofie into her drink.
And when she began feeling tired, she’d been grateful for his offer to walk her home, her mind already short-circuiting.
Fools.
All of them.
But this time… This time would be different. This time, he’d experienced the build-up. The slow burn. Watching, waiting as Brooke grew more and more skittish. Nervous enough to move out of her apartment.
This affair with Luca was a setback, but nothing more. He had patience. Luca would be gone soon. Everyone said how much he hated Baldwin’s Shore, hated his father, and he’d already left once. He’d leave again.
And then Brooke would be ripe for the taking.
19
Brooke
Luca sure knew how to kiss. I hadn’t doubted for a moment that he did, but until last night, I’d never experienced the magic for myself. It was everything I’d imagined. Everything I’d dreamed of. Everything I could never have, not permanently. My insides had heated and clenched until I was basically one giant ovary with good hair and a glazed expression.
And I couldn’t stop replaying it over in my mind.
The way he’d turned and agreed to a suggestion I’d felt sick about even making. Desperate people do desperate things, okay? The way we’d both paused before moving toward each other, hesitant, neither of us wanting to make the first move. The way his lips had touched mine, the little sparks that had zapped across my skin as he deepened the kiss and wrapped his arms around my waist. I’d waited for the nerves to wash over me, for my fight-or-flight response to kick in the way I’d always feared it would, but all I felt was a delicious apprehension about what was to come. My fingers reached for the hem of his T-shirt, and I lifted it an inch, enough to feel the hard muscle and smattering of hair underneath, but he’d stopped me with a shake of his head.
“Not tonight, sweetheart,” he murmured against my lips. “There’s no hurry.”
“Actually, we are on a time limit.”
His groan sent ripples of need through my core.
“Don’t remind me. But you’re not some quick fuck, Brooke. You’re a goddess, and that’s how I’m going to treat you. Hmm… You can be Aphrodite. I’m sure she wore nothing but a sheet at one point.”
“Does that make you Adonis? Where did you learn about Greek mythology, anyway?”
“We had downtime on tour. When I ran out of porn magazines, a buddy lent me Homer’s Iliad.”
Only Luca could make me laugh in the middle of something so awkward. “Be serious.”
“You don’t think I read The Iliad?”
Was he serious? He sounded kind of hurt, and the last thing I wanted to do was upset him.
“I thought you hated English lessons at school?”
And The Iliad was heavy. I’d tried reading it myself once, but I’d only made it a quarter of the way through before Netflix won out.
“No, I hated Mrs. Gibson. When I was in eighth grade, she told me I’d never amount to much, and she prejudged every assignment I ever submitted.”
“I didn’t realise…”
“One time, I did Aaron’s English homework and he did mine. Who do you think got the higher mark?”
Luca might have offered to be my temporary lover, but above all, he was my friend. And even though years had passed since he left high school, I figured a hug might help. Our new arrangement meant I didn’t worry about squashing myself against him and nuzzling his neck. He smelled nice. A hint of woodsy cologne, and underneath, the musky scent that was all Luca.
“I’m so sorry. If it helps, Mr. Gibson doesn’t like her much either. I heard they got divorced recently.”
Luca’s turn to chuckle. “Why are we even talking about this?” He wrapped a fist in my hair and tilted my head to the side, then feathered soft kisses along my jaw. “I’ve got better things to do with my mouth.”
And he’d been serious about that, too. My toes curled just from thinking of it.
“Earth to Brooke.” Darla snapped her fingers in front of me. “You okay, hun? You look kinda…stunned?”
Dammit, I’d broken my “no daydreaming at work” rule. How long had I been holding this ball of yarn? I hastily shoved it onto the shelf as I tried to gather scattered thoughts.
“Uh, yes? I mean, I think I’m okay.”
“You’ve been smiling to yourself for the past half hour. Did something happen with Thor?”
“Thor?”
“Darn, I’ve been spending too much time with Paulo. Luca. I meant Luca.”
“Why does Paulo call him Thor?”
“No reason.”
Oh, there was definitely a reason. Paulo had nicknames for all sorts of people, and there was always a story behind the moniker. He called Elmira Fairbanks “Olympic,” for example, because she always wore a lot of rings. And also because she could bitch for America. Colt was “Concrete” because Paulo had accidentally walked into him once and said it was like hitting a wall, and Mary from the coffee house was “Monet” because she liked to stencil little cocoa pictures onto everyone’s cappuccino foam.
“Spill. And don’t tell me it’s because Luca reminds him of Chris Hemsworth—they look nothing like each other.”
Darla huffed out a sigh. “Fine. It’s because Paulo says he has a magnificent hammer.”
“A magnificent…? Hey! That’s totally objectifying.”
“I’m making no comment.” Darla mimed zipping her lips and tossing the key over her shoulder. “So, did something happen?”
“Maybe.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“It’s complicated. You can’t tell anyone, okay?”
“Not even Paulo?”
“Not even Paulo.” Because if Paulo knew, then Aaron would find out in three and a half seconds. Darla, on the other hand, was more of
a sponge. She absorbed secrets rather than sprinkling them around town like confetti. And despite what I’d once thought, sharing my problems with the right people had eased the burden rather than making it heavier. “I’ve been having some trouble with a guy following me.”
“What guy?”
“I don’t know who he is, but I think…” I paused, but talking about this was getting easier now. “I think, no, I know he’s the same man who hurt me last year.”
“Gosh darn. Did he hurt you bad?”
I nodded, and thankfully Darla didn’t ask for more details because I wouldn’t have been able to hold back my tears.
“I’m always here if you want to talk.”
“I appreciate that so much. Really. Anyhow, he left a package at my apartment, so Luca insisted I move into Deals on Wheels. And then I lost my mind and we made this…I guess you could call it an arrangement. For ten days, and it ends when my brother gets home from his vacation.”
“A no-strings fling? Gosh, I didn’t think you were the type.” Darla sighed. “Which means I’ll lose five bucks to Paulo if he finds out, so you definitely can’t tell him.”
“You were betting on my love life?”
“Love? I thought you said it was just a short-term thing?”
Heat rose up my cheeks. “Of course, yes, that’s all it is. But he’s been really sweet. When we were at the Peninsula Resort, Easton Baldwin was being an asshole to me, and Luca planted himself right between us. I honestly thought he was going to swing a punch, but then Mr. Belinsky stepped in and threw Easton out.”
“Easton was being an a-hole? Easton the Third?”
I nodded.
“That doesn’t surprise me one bit.”
Darla’s own run-in with Easton the Third—Paulo called him Easton the Turd, or just “the Turd” for short—had come two years ago. Easton the First had left her a house in his will, a thank-you for taking care of him in his twilight years, and the Turd didn’t like that one bit. He’d contested the will, but it had been drafted by Aaron’s boss and ultimately proved to be watertight. So Darla had gotten to stay in her home, and she’d also made enemies out of the remaining Baldwins.
“I was surprised when Sara Baldwin showed up here the other day.”
“So was I, a little. I’m mostly surprised she has the time to paint. Those cousins of hers usually keep her busy doing their scutwork the whole day, the girls especially. Back when I cared for East, Lillian and Kayleigh used to nag her from dawn until dusk.”
“I thought they ran a party planning company?”
Darla snorted. “Sure, they ‘run’ it. More like Sara does the planning, and they show up at the parties.” And Darla should know. She’d spent far more time with the Baldwins than I had. “I don’t mind Sara—she was the only one who used to visit with East when he couldn’t move around so well—but if the other girls show their faces in here, I’ll run them right out.”
The thought of Darla running anyone out of the store made me giggle—she didn’t have a nasty bone in her body. But I had to admit that I shared the sentiment. Maybe Paulo could do the honours?
And at least we’d changed the subject away from Luca.
“Speaking of running, should I go to the grocery store and pick up more milk? We’re down to the last drops.”
“No, you finish stocking the shelves with the new yarn colours. I’ll go.”
Two minutes after Darla left, the bell over the door jingled, and a half-dozen ladies walked in, ooh-ing and aah-ing at the beadwork samples and the variety of embroidery floss. Judging by the expensive clothes and the New York accents, they’d escaped from the Peninsula Resort. Then the Snyder family showed up—Mom, Dad, and twelve-year-old Sophie—and I knew this was the start of a busy day.
At a quarter to six, I sagged back against the counter and surveyed the rainbow of chaos that only a group of finger-painting five-year-olds could create. I even had paint in my hair. How did it get into my hair?
“Where do I start?” I muttered, half to myself and half to Darla.
“With donuts. They’re on special at the grocery store. I was trying to stay healthy, but this calls for sprinkles. Back in ten.”
I texted Luca to let him know I’d be slightly late getting home, but not to worry. Since Vega was staying at Deals on Wheels in the daytime now, with Brady and Deck sharing the dog-sitting duties, Luca had let me drive myself to work on the condition that I didn’t stop anywhere on the way. But now, with Darla gone and the store empty, I began to feel a tiny bit twitchy. What if Cupid was out there watching me? Had Darla locked the door on her way out? No, so I quickly turned the key, then checked the rear door was secure too. We usually kept it locked, but one couldn’t be too careful.
Then I started scrubbing.
And daydreaming.
How far would things go with Luca tonight? He’d promised to take it slow, but we only had nine nights left together, and after waiting for a whole freaking decade, I wanted to make the most of them. What time did Deck and Brady plan to leave? Brady in particular sometimes worked into the evenings, and while his dedication had to be admired, I really hoped he’d start clock-watching.
Although if this red paint wouldn’t come off the table, I might be here into the night myself.
“I got chocolate as well as the donuts,” Darla called twenty minutes later. “Did you know you have a note on your car? I hope nobody bumped it.”
Every nerve fibre stiffened. “A-a-a note?”
“Tucked under the windshield wiper. You okay? You’ve gone white as a ghost.”
“I’m sure it’s just a flyer or something.” But deep down, I knew it wasn’t. Cupid had found out where I worked, and the knowledge left me cold. “Did you see anyone by my car today?”
“No, but Deon had his cargo van parked in the way for most of the afternoon.”
Deon made deliveries for the grocery store along the street, and since our parking lot was bigger than theirs, Darla let him borrow a space when he needed to. Dammit, I should have caught a ride with Luca this morning. He’d offered, but I hated losing my independence. Hated it. I didn’t want to be on my own all the time, but nor did I want to be reliant on others if I felt like popping out to the grocery store.
Darla watched from the window as I hurried out to my car. Out of nosiness or concern, I wasn’t sure, but I was grateful.
The sight of Cupid’s block letters turned my stomach, slashes of dark red on the white envelope. I wanted to tear it open and burn the contents, but at the same time, I couldn’t bear to be anywhere near it. Whatever, I’d learned my lesson about ruining the evidence. With shaking hands, I dialled Luca.
20
Luca
So much for a cosy dinner.
I’d wanted to do something nice for Brooke, but when she called to say her stalker had left another note on her car, I’d had to cancel our reservations at the Italian restaurant in Coquille. Cupid, she called him. More like stupid. And also dead, when I got my hands on that motherfucker.
Or maybe the latest incident was just fate stepping in with size-thirteen shitkickers? I hadn’t been sure how Brooke would react to a date, not with our new “arrangement,” as she’d termed it. Arrangement. As if I could distill what I felt for her down into a handful of calendar entries and a ticking clock.
“We should be together,” Colt read. He’d put on a pair of gloves and slit open the envelope with a penknife before sliding out the note. “And he signed off with that creepy little heart again. A declaration of love? Or an intention of harm?”
“No idea, but he’s not getting anywhere near Brooke. How’s the investigation going?”
Colt glanced toward the Craft Cabin, which was a misnomer because the place was massive, but Brooke said Darla had started the enterprise in a smaller building that it quickly outgrew, and the name stuck. The two of them watched us from the window, out of earshot. Brooke hadn’t been happy when Colt sent her inside, but she also hadn’t argued, which was one re
ason I knew how upset she was.
“It’s going slower than I’d like,” Colt admitted. “The department’s short of manpower. We’ve lost two deputies this year—one retired and the other moved to San Diego—and there aren’t many folks interested in moving to this little corner of paradise to replace them. A group of us are trying to convince Sheriff Newman to offer a relocation package, but he’s thinking on it. Been thinking on it for six damn months.”
“Sheriff Newman? He’s still in charge? He must be seventy by now.”
“Sixty-nine, and he doesn’t look a day over eighty.”
“And he keeps getting re-elected?”
“You know the way things are around here—the natives don’t like change, and the newcomers wouldn’t want anyone competent looking at their business too close. Sheriff Newman’s more interested in photo ops and the annual summer cookout than stirring up trouble, and the rest of us don’t have the time.”
“I’m surprised the Coos Bay Chronicle doesn’t have something to say about that.”
“The sheriff’s daughter is the editor now. They put together an eight-page colour special on the cookout.”
The whole fucking world was being sent to try me.
“So what has been done?”
“An investigator spoke to Addy, and he passed me a list of everyone she remembers being at the party. So far, I’ve spoken to three of them, but apart from a few extra names, they didn’t recall anything useful. And I’m trying to get ahold of a list of the tenants in Addy’s building, but the Baldwins are stonewalling.”
“What do the Baldwins have to do with this?”
“They own half of that block. EJ’s insisting on a warrant, but the paperwork’s stuck in the system. And the lab’s backed up, as usual, so we’re still waiting on forensics for the note and the candy.” Colt raked a hand through his hair. “Sometimes, I wonder why I do this job.”