Alex squeezed her eyes shut. Dear, God. It had been easier when Drake had been giving her the cold treatment. She’d only had to battle her feelings for Rhett then. Hearing Drake say he loved her, realizing what they’d felt for her, and knowing what she’d felt for them had never died over the years was tearing her in two. “You’re both doing it again. I told you I can’t think when you’re touching me.”
“How about this?” Drake suggested. “We’ll give you the space you’re wanting to think, but you have to promise you will tell us this time whatever you decide in the end.”
Alex gazed into his eyes. Five years ago, she’d expected him and Rhett to make her choose between them. Instead, the choice she’d found herself forced to make had been even more difficult that letting one of them go. That choice was squeezing around her again, only, this time, she had the knowledge of what it was like to live without both of them suffocating her strength.
“I promise.”
Drake smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. “Then let’s get back to figuring out how to catch our killer.”
Chapter Eight
“Do you really think this will work?”
Alex sat across from Chad Divine in the island’s poshest restaurant, Starry Skies, looking at him through the flickering candlelight. It had taken her a day and a half to convince Drake and Rhett that her plan of pretending to date Chad was the best chance they had to catch their killer. They’d spent that day and a half attempting to come up with a different option while running every check they could think of on every resident and frequent visitor of the island as well as interviewing all they could. When every search and question had landed them at another dead end, they’d finally agreed.
“If we’re right about the killer being a woman who has the hots for you, yes.”
Chad shuddered. “Do you know how creepy that makes me feel thinking there’s a woman on this island with the psychotic hots for me?”
Alex couldn’t help but giggle despite the seriousness of the situation.
“It’s not funny.” He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. “I would much rather be on a date with you because we’ve got the hots for each other instead of pretending so we can catch some lunatic chick.”
He wasn’t really coming on to her. At least, Alex didn’t think so. They’d talked about this in depth, about how they would have to have some physical contact no matter what they talked about just in case their killer was watching. They had to come across as two people really interested in one another or her plan wouldn’t work.
Chad drew lazy circles over the back of hand with the pad of his thumb. “You’re sure Drake and Rhett aren’t going to bash my face in when this is over for touching you, right?”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Why would you think that?”
Chad leaned closer, smiled as if he were about to say something really romantic to her, and lowered his voice. “Come on. It’s obvious they’re into you. I’ll admit, it surprises me because half the islanders know they were in a ménage relationship before that apparently ended pretty badly. Whoever she was really broke their hearts. I haven’t seen them look at any woman the way they look at you because of that.”
Shit. If people on the island suspected she really had something going on with Drake and Rhett, the killer would know her dating Chad was fake. They were already stretching the undercover believability because most of the islanders knew she was an FBI agent sent to the island to investigate Lynette Cross’s murder. “How many people suspect there’s something between me, Drake, and Rhett?”
Chad leaned back and shrugged. “No one else that I know of. Well, except for Michaela, but you already know she and I talk about everything.”
It was her turn to lean closer and lower her voice. “If this is going to work, you can’t let on to anyone else that I’m seeing them, okay?”
The grin that unfolded on his lips reminded her a lot of the boyish smiles Rhett often gave her. “So there is something going on with the three of you. Good for them. And you, too, of course.” He winked at her and slid his first finger and thumb over his mouth as if closing a zipper. “My lips are sealed, girlfriend.”
The waitress returned with their orders, paying little attention to Alex and flashing Chad a wide, seductive smile as she made sure they didn’t need anything else.
Alex waited until the woman left the table before she asked, “Do you ever get tired of that? Women going all googly-eyed when they’re around you, I mean?”
He chuckled. “Honestly, no.” He picked up his fork and pointed the end at her before burying the tongs in his loaded baked potato. “And not because I know I’m too sexy for my shirt. It feels good, you know? I got hooked on drugs when I was fourteen. Years of being strung out take a toll on a person’s appearance. Women looked at me with pity and disgust rather than googly-eyes because all they saw was a young man headed for disaster.” He shrugged, took the bite of his potato, and swallowed before adding, “Now, when a woman looks at me, she sees a man who’s got it together. I’m clean cut, no sunken bloodshot eyes or track marks, and no sweat beading on my forehead because I’m worried about how I’m going to find my next hit.”
Alex cut off a small bite of her steak. “You said your parents helped you get straight, paid for your rehab, and even gave you the money to settle on the island and get Divine Playthings off the ground. You’re thirty-three. Why did they wait so long?”
“You can’t force someone to give up drugs. People try it all the time, but, if the druggy doesn’t want to be helped, all you’re doing is wasting your time. Sure, it might work for a while, but they’ll almost always go back. It’s in here.” He tapped his temple with the handle of his fork. “Until the druggy gets it in his mind that he wants help, that he’s ready to give up the drugs, and get his life straight, there’s not really much anyone can do.”
“They tried to force you, but it didn’t last,” Alex guessed.
He shook his head. “Never for longer than a month or so. I’d convinced myself I was happy with my life. It’s amazing what you’ll start to believe if you tell yourself the same shit over and over again. Not just about drugs, but anything. You go after something you think you want and you might convince yourself that you’re happy, but you’re really not. I don’t believe a person can truly find happiness until they are honest with themselves, no matter how hard the truth might be to swallow.” He studied her over the rim of his glass as he sipped his wine. “That’s what I had to do, be honest with myself, and trust me, I’d swallowed a lot, but that pill was the hardest to get down.”
Alex dropped her gaze to her plate, not seeing the perfectly prepared steak, steamed vegetables, and baked potato it held. She saw Drake’s and Rhett’s faces instead. Was that what she’d done? Had she told herself over and over so many times that she wanted to be an FBI agent and wouldn’t be happy until she accomplished that goal that she’d convinced herself she was even when she wasn’t? She knew her life had become routine, especially after leaving New Orleans. She’d stopped seeing anything around her that didn’t pertain to the next assignment, the next bad guy to take down, or the next rung on the bureau ladder she was determined to climb.
“Got you thinking, huh?”
Alex snapped out of her reverie and met Chad’s softened gaze. “A little,” she admitted.
“This island is a hell of a place. It’s not the beaches or the sparkling water or the bright sun, though all that beauty certainly helps. It’s being surrounded by all the open minds that does it. It’s paradise at your fingertips for people like us. All you have to do is grab it and hold on tight.”
* * * *
Alex sat on the corner of the conference table, her body angled between Drake’s, who sat in a chair on one side, and Rhett’s, who sat in the chair at the end. Her practical black skirt was tucked tightly around her legs and every now and then she’d give her shapely stems a swing, sending Drake’s system into a riot of calisthenics.
<
br /> His cock was harder than a fucking rock. Keeping his hand on her upper thigh wasn’t helping his situation a damn bit, but he refused to stop touching her. He was already using every ounce of his control to keep himself from moving between her sexy legs, pushing her skirt up to see what style of damnable thong she wore today, and then ripping it off of her so he could bury his throbbing dick in her sodden pussy.
It had been nearly a week since she’d spent the night at his and Rhett’s cottage, nearly a week since he’d really gotten his hands on her, and nearly a week since he’d started developing a serious case of blue balls. He wouldn’t allow himself to think about what her decision might be once she finally made it. She’d given him and Drake her word that she would talk to them this time, no matter what choice she made, and they had agreed not to pressure her. That hadn’t stopped either of them from stealing a kiss or a touch when they could. Catching the killer had stopped them from taking her back to their cottage again to make love to her until sunrise.
“Is he a good kisser?” He expected to be smacked for the question, but got an amused glance complete with a wicked half smile instead.
“Jealous?”
“You’re damn right I am.” He wouldn’t hesitate to admit that. Watching her with Rhett was one thing. When they’d been together before, it had taken him a little time to get over that jealousy, but the three of them were simply right together. He’d realized there was no other way to think about it.
Seeing her with Chad, however, was a whole different ballgame. She’d spent the last three days with the man, going out for breakfast, walking on the beach, and shopping down the main drag. They’d taken a trip to the mainland in Chad’s boat, thinking that might aid them in their attempts to draw out the killer. When they’d returned, she’d spent the night in his cottage. In his fucking cottage! Yeah, he knew damn well Chad had slept on the couch, but that hadn’t kept him from pacing the floor of his bedroom half the night with pictures of Chad and Alex doing a whole lot more ping-ponging in his head.
And, geezus, how many times had he saw Chad kiss her in the last three days? It seemed like every time the bastard got her on the sidewalk where half the island could see them he was spinning her in his arms and drawing her in for a kiss. It was all part of the setup. He knew that. But convincing his green-eyed demon to go to sleep had proved a task he couldn’t accomplish.
She threw her head back on her shoulders, her eyes drifting dreamily shut as a sultry moan escaped her lips. “He’s a phenomenal kisser. He does this thing with his tongue that just makes me—”
“Alex.” Rhett’s warning tone shook with laughter. “You keep teasing him and you’re going to find yourself bound to his bed and tortured for hours once this is over, sweetheart.”
She righted her head and her gaze slammed into Drake’s. Challenge and wicked mischief swirled in her beautiful eyes. “I’m sorry.” She giggled. “I can’t help but give you shit about it.” She leaned closer and cupped the side of his face. “You’re just so cute when you’re jealous.”
“Wait until we catch our killer. Then I’ll show you cute.”
The playfulness dimmed in her eyes, replaced by equal parts heat and a confusion he’d give anything to take away. What if she didn’t give him a chance to show her cute? It would be his own damn fault. He’d known the minute she’d walked into the conference room her first day on the island that he couldn’t get close to her again and he’d done it anyway. He’d known better than to let himself hope something, anything would convince her to stay, but he’d started hoping anyway.
“It’s been three days, Alex.” He shook his head as her hand fell from his face. “I think we need to come up with another plan, some other way to draw out this killer, or some other way to find out who it is.”
A part of him didn’t want to do it. He wanted to let this drag out as long as possible, if only to prolong the moment when she had to make a decision. The detective in him wouldn’t allow that. They were ninety-five percent certain their killer lived on the island. That meant the people he’d sworn to protect when he’d taken this job were in danger. That knowledge sat even sourer in his gut than the idea of her leaving them again.
“What do you think I’m doing over here?” Rhett leaned over, looking at Drake around Alex, and held up the computer mouse. “I’m not playing solitaire, man.”
No, he was comparing lists of the islanders and regular visitors who had made known trips to the mainland around the time of Lynette Cross’s murder. They’d started with the business owners who made frequent supply runs to the mainland. The regular visitors were also at the top of that list, but so far neither had turned up anything conclusively connected. When they did manage to stumble on something, they cross-checked it with the timing around Kelli Darcy’s murder and found themselves at another dead end.
Alex turned her attention to Rhett. “Keep up what you’re doing. Something is there. It has to be.” She glanced at the clock on the far wall and hopped off the table. “In the meantime, I have to meet Chad. We’re having a few drinks, staying in sight, and acting all lovey-dovey as we dance the night away. The more we pretend to be falling in love, the better our chance of dragging our killer out of hiding.”
And the better their chance that the killer would target Alex. Drake bowed his head, turning it to watch Alex exit the conference room and couldn’t shake the feeling he was getting closer and closer to watching her walk away for good, either by her own choice or the killer’s.
* * * *
Alex pulled her cell from the pocket of her skirt and checked the time. Chad was only ten minutes late. She’d learned to expect that from him the last few days and teased him that he’d probably be late to his own funeral. He always replied that was exactly what he was practicing for.
Not wanting to occupy one of the obviously needed tables under the busy thatch-covered roof of Ménage à Drink until Chad joined her, and unable to find an empty barstool, she stood on the deck that circled the bar and waited for him to show. She rested her forearms on the deck railing and leaned on them, casting a glance over her shoulder at the woman she saw ordering drinks at the bar. She recognized Siebel Kenney from her many recent visits to the Karma Café. The woman really did make spectacular French toast. She had taken to dropping in the café with Chad since they’d started their ruse to pick up breakfast and often fell into quick conversations with Arianrhod Evans, her mother Elen, and Siebel.
Alex watched as the bartender served Siebel three fruity-colored drinks. Maybe the woman was waiting for Arianrhod. She turned her attention to the crowded beach and considered joining Siebel until Chad arrived. Gazing out over the sand and people, she fell into her thoughts instead. What would it be like to wake up to this every morning, to take the stroll to the department each day knowing these people and this land were hers to protect and serve?
Happiness.
She tipped her chin to the darkening sky as the word skated through her thoughts. Things John Cabelly had said to her days ago followed in her memory. All she’d ever wanted to do was make a difference, catch the bad guys, and keep people safe. She did that and she was damn good at it, but she’d never realized how impersonal her life had become until she’d had that conversation with the sheriff. She’d never realized how much she missed having a life outside of work because her work had become her life.
Drake and Rhett were changing that again. They weren’t pressuring her this time. They were keeping their word and letting her have the room she’d requested to think. They were keeping their distance, at least outside of the conference room, so no one would see the three of them together and start believing there was something more between them than work when she and Chad were busy convincing the island they were falling madly in love.
In the three days she’d been hanging with Chad, she’d gotten to know the island and its people well. Everyone was welcoming her into their community with open arms as if she belonged here and, for the first time in years, sh
e’d started to feel as if she really had found a place where she belonged.
She jolted when a body slammed into her from behind, pushing her hard against the deck railing. A fit of giggling followed the blow and she turned to find one woman stumbling and laughing merrily while another woman spewed apologies and struggled to keep the stumbling woman on her feet.
Alex grinned. “I guess she had a few too many, huh?”
The apologetic woman rolled her eyes. “More than a few. We didn’t hurt you, did we?”
“No. I’m fine. Do you need help with her?”
The woman swayed, adjusted her arm around her friend, and laughed when her friend stopped to cast a drooling look at a guy who walked passed. “I’ve got her. We’re just going to the resort hotel. Thanks, though.”
“You’re welcome. Enjoy your night.” Still smiling, she watched as the two women managed to make it down the steps to the beach.
“It looks like we’re both being stood up, at least for a while.”
She turned at the new female voice, smiling when Siebel came up beside her.
“You know how Chad is.” Alex made a show of rolling her eyes. “He tells you to meet him a specific time and you can expect him to be no less than a half hour late.”
Siebel laughed. “Arianrhod is the same way. She gets caught up talking with customers at the café and loses track of time.”
“That’s probably what’s keeping Chad. He knows Michaela is fully capable of running the store, but he can’t stand not having his fingers on the pulse of everything all the time.”
“Except when he’s with you. Here. You might as well have one of these while you wait.” Siebel adjusted her hold on the glasses and held one out for Alex. “If I drink all three, I’ll be toasted before Arianrhod gets here.”
Alex smiled her thanks and took the drink. “The three-for-one deal is pretty cool for the ménage couples on the island, but it’s not so cool when there’s only one or two people looking for a drink.”
Safe and Deputized with Ecstasy [The Heroes of Silver Island 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 16