“He watches you every chance he gets,” Chaz contributed. He placed the rolls on the counter and shut the oven door before he swatted me on the ass with the oven mitt he removed from his hand. “That man wants you sooooo bad.” Chaz said the last bit in a sing-song voice that made me smile.
“Whatever,” I replied, blowing it off. Neither of them knew about my afternoon in Gabe’s bed, which was strange because they knew everything about me. I didn’t know why I refused to share with them what had happened between Gabe and me; I just knew that it felt wrong.
“That one is trouble,” Meredith said. She stood at the table with her hands on her hips. The vibrant pink sweater she wore complimented her dark skin. She looked as fierce as she did the day I met her.
Chaz and I have known each other since kindergarten, but Meredith didn’t come into our lives until high school. Chaz and I were the only “out” gay kids in our school, but we both knew that there were plenty of closeted kids who were either gay, bi, or curious about what our hands felt like wrapped around their cocks. Chaz and I felt like outcasts in the school, as a lot of gay kids probably do. Meredith was the only African-American student in the school, so we formed our own little band of rebel misfits.
I loved her from the moment I laid eyes on her. Like with Chaz and me, Meredith had her heart broken when the boy she fell in love with refused to acknowledge their relationship for fear of what his parents would think. He was an idiot and not nearly good enough for my queen. Meredith realized that for herself later on, but at seventeen it was a very bitter pill to swallow. I think rejection colored her dating decisions as it had mine. Hence, the reason I kept Gabe at a safe distance—or tried to anyway.
“Yep, trouble,” I repeated. Meredith narrowed her intelligent eyes at me, and I worried she could read my mind.
“There’s more here than what you’re telling us,” she shook her finger at me, “but I’ll let you keep your little secret. For now,” she clarified before she finished setting the table.
We gathered around the table and held hands while Mere said grace. Afterward, we passed the serving dishes around and loaded up our plates with good food. As I preferred, there was no topic that was off limits for discussion over dinner. I wasn’t at all surprised when Chaz brought up Georgia’s death again.
“I heard she was stabbed with a pair of shears, so that’s why they’re probably looking at you,” he said.
“It didn’t help that she screamed she was going to destroy your business the day someone killed her,” Meredith added. “I guess I can see why they’d at least question you.”
“They’re just doing their job,” I replied. “At first, I was pretty insulted, but I got over it. They didn’t haul me into the station for a formal interview. They just asked a few questions in Gabe’s… I mean, Detective Wyatt’s car.”
“Gabe, huh,” Meredith asked. “On a first-name basis now, are we?”
“He did save his life, Mere,” Chaz stated. “That warrants a first-name basis in my book.” Chaz tipped his head to the side and tears filled his eyes. He had always been an emotional person, but feeling sick the past week brought his emotions closer to the surface. “I’m so glad you didn’t die.”
“Thanks,” I said cheerfully, hoping to change the topic. “So am I.”
“Time for a toast,” Meredith said, raising her glass. Chaz and I did the same. “To not getting killed,” she said with a smirk.
“To not getting killed,” Chaz and I repeated before we laughed.
“I was kind of hoping you were going to say something about getting laid,” Chaz told her. “It’s been a long dry spell for all of us.”
“You got that right,” Mere agreed.
I didn’t dare say a word, choosing to keep forking savory food into my mouth. Apparently, my silence spoke volumes because I could feel their intense focus on me right then. I risked a glance at their faces then wished I hadn’t. I could feel my face starting to turn red like it had when I nearly bowled the lady over at the pet store.
“Is there something you want to share with us?” Chaz asked primly.
“No,” I said around a mouthful of mashed potatoes.
“Oh, I think there is,” Mere commented. “That is the face of a man who’s been keeping a secret from his so-called best friends.”
“I agree, Mere,” Chaz said, a bright smile spreading across his face. “I think he wants to confess that he’s doing it with the detective.”
“Doing it?” Meredith repeated his phrase questioningly. “No, that sexy hunk of man meat doesn’t ‘do it,’” she told Chaz and then turned her shrewd gaze on me. “Honey, tell us the truth. You got your freak on with that detective, didn’t you?”
I was busted; I knew it, and they did too. The arrogant smiles they wore on their faces told me so. I neither confirmed nor denied their accusation. I wasn’t sure I could if I wanted to since it felt like the last forkful of mashed potatoes was stuck in my throat. I reached for my wine and gulped down half of the glass.
Meredith leaned over and placed her elbows on the table. “It was good, right?” I knew she was talking about the sex I had with Detective Hot Lips and not the damn wine I just chugged.
“Soooooo good,” I admitted, but then added, “which is why it can’t ever happen again.” And I meant it.
Meredith and Chaz looked at each other then burst into raucous laughter. They laughed so hard they had tears running down their faces. I debated spitting in their pudding when I served it, but even I couldn’t be so cruel.
“Twenty bucks says he holds out for two weeks,” Chaz said.
“I got fifty that he doesn’t make it past another week,” Meredith said.
“Fuck you both,” I replied but couldn’t keep a smile off my face. I thought about betting against Chaz and Mere, but then my mind conjured up a memory of the way Gabe looked in the pet store as he fretted about making the right purchases for his new furry friend. I wasn’t so sure I could resist him if I found myself alone with him again. Instead of placing a bet, I looked at them and said, “Traitors.”
AS COLD AS IT was, it didn’t take Buddy long to go outside and do his business before he wanted back in the house. When I first rented the house on Jasper Street, I liked the fenced-in back yard but didn’t think I’d have a need for it beyond keeping people away. Well, I was pretty damn grateful for it on my second morning as a dog owner when there was frost on the ground. I let Buddy out to do his business and watched him from the comfort of my kitchen while drinking coffee. He was safe, I was warm, and we were both happy.
I knew it was wimpy behavior, but I still hadn’t adjusted to the colder weather in the midwest after living there for two years. I was a Florida boy, born and raised. Kyle had gone to graduate school for veterinary medicine at the University of Florida and then had stayed there to work. It wasn’t until his grandfather announced his retirement that Kyle decided to move back to Ohio. Looking back, it was probably his way of trying to break things off with me. Back then, I thought he was happy I was moving with him, but it didn’t take me long to realize I had been wrong.
As much as I disliked the cold weather, Josh appeared to embrace it. It was pretty pathetic that I engineered my dog doody supervision to be the same time that he would run by my home. It wasn’t hard to do because the guy was like clockwork. He ran by my house every other day and always at the same time, regardless of the weather conditions outside. To say he had me tied in knots was putting it mildly. What was more pathetic was me pressing my nose to the window to get a better view as he ran along the chain-link fence. Cold glass and hot breath equaled a steamed-up window, so I had to wipe off the glass with the sleeve of my navy dress shirt. At least I wasn’t drawing fucking hearts in the condensation. Yet.
I had noticed him jogging by before and even admired the way his legs looked in the shorts he wore during warm months or the running tights he wore in cold ones. What was equally as predictable as his schedule was that whatever ensemble he wore
would be bright and captivating. That morning was no different. His jacket was neon orange, and his running tights were dark gray with ribbons of that same neon orange running up his legs, which made them look even longer.
Woof! Woof! Buddy’s bark grabbed my attention, and I realized that Josh had already passed by and I was still staring out the window like a lovesick fool. I shook my head in frustration and let my new bestie in the door. I looked at my watch and saw it was almost time for me to leave. Whoever invented remote start, heated steering wheels and leather seats for cars were some of my favorite people. A garage didn’t come with my rental house, but those three modern conveniences at my fingertips made the loss bearable.
Most garages in the neighborhood were only large enough for one car if that. Had there been a garage on the property, it would house my 1970 Dodge Charger I affectionately named Charlotte. Instead, Charlotte was stored in a rental unit not too far out of town.
After clicking my car on, I put up the dog gate so that Buddy would stay in the kitchen with his new fluffy dog bed, toys, and his food and water bowls. Brook recommended that I confine Buddy to one room rather than a crate to see how he did. It was obvious he was no longer a puppy; I hoped he had outgrown his instincts to destroy. Could I be so lucky? I’d see how he did for a week before I risked letting him have full run of the house.
I squatted down to give him a good ear scratching and tried to ignore the tug at my heart when I saw the sadness in his eyes that I was leaving. In such a short time, he’d become my dog, and I honestly hoped his former owners didn’t call and claim him. If so, I’d have to give him back no matter how much I didn’t like it. I tried to assure Buddy I’d be back and then I forced myself to leave, or I’d never do it. Hell, I wasn’t even to my car yet, and I was already looking forward to returning home and spending time with him.
I figured that must be what a happy relationship felt like. Adrian always looked forward to heading home to Sally Ann each day. I think I would’ve felt the same about heading home to Kyle in the beginning, but our careers had us home at different times from the very start. Other couples seemed to make that work, but we didn’t. I stopped feeling sad about the end of our relationship quite some time ago, but I still carried doubts that I had what it took to be in a happy, healthy relationship.
I got another glimpse of Josh as he turned a corner a few blocks down heading in the opposite direction from the way I needed to turn. Very indecent thoughts of Josh replaced the ones of my failed past with Kyle. That afternoon we spent together ended quicker than I had hoped and I sure as hell didn’t like waking up to find that Josh had left without a goodbye. I liked even less hearing that he thought it was a mistake when I thought it was the best thing to happen to me in ages.
He seemed to be thawing out towards me a bit. The look in his eyes at the pet store was nothing like the distant one I had become used to receiving from him. I wanted to think it was progressing and that there was a tiny sliver of hope that just maybe I’d get a chance with him—not just for sex either. That aloofness he wrapped around him like a cloak intrigued me, and I wanted to know what made him tick. I got a glimpse of the vulnerabilities he hid beneath his confident veneer when the alcohol loosened his tongue at Vibe.
My goals for the week were to wrap up the Georgia Beaumont case and then I could see just how thawed toward me Josh had become. Well, those plans crashed and burned as soon as the M.E. report landed on my desk not ten minutes after I arrived. It wasn’t the pathology or lab reports that shocked me to the core; it was a photo of the scissors that had been removed from Georgia’s neck. At first glance, they appeared to be a regular pair of shears that a hair stylist would use. It was what we discussed at the crime scene, so having that confirmed wasn’t the problem. No, it was the engraved name on the scissors that made me feel like I could vomit.
I couldn’t help but reach out and touch the photo, my finger tracing over the letters that spelled Jazz. It didn’t matter that I knew in my gut—and my heart—that he wasn’t a killer. I had to take this seriously and do my job, which meant we had to bring him in for formal questioning on video.
“Fuck,” I said beneath my breath. “Just fucking great.”
“What’s wrong, partner?” Adrian walked by me and sat at his desk that faced mine. He wore a grin that stretched from ear to ear.
“What’s going on with the Joker smile this morning? Did you have an awesome weekend or what?” Adrian practically glowed like the sun.
“You could say that,” he said before leaning forward. “Look, it’s early on, and we’re not telling many people yet, but you’re not just people.” He took a shaky breath and said, “Sally Ann is pregnant.”
I was out of my chair and around my desk giving him a congratulatory hug in a blink of an eye. “That’s fantastic, Adrian. I am so damn happy for you two. You’ll both be amazing parents.” I knew it was true. I’d been to barbecues at their house and seen them interact with their nieces and nephews enough to know how lucky their baby would be. “I won’t say a word until you guys are ready to tell everyone. I am so honored that you wanted to tell me.”
I felt like I’d hit the lotto when I was partnered with Adrian. He never once gave a damn about who I was attracted to, all he cared about was that I was a good cop. In the two years that I worked with him, he went from a friend to my family. No one deserved happiness more than Adrian and Sally Ann.
“So, the look on your face and the cursing under your breath indicates that all is not right in your world. What’s up, partner?”
I said nothing; instead, I flipped the photo around and handed it to him. Adrian let out a soft whistle before looking up at me. “We have to bring him in and officially question him,” I said.
Adrian held out his hand for the file, and I gave it to him. “There’s nothing hinky in the toxicology reports or her stomach contents.” I saw sympathy in his eyes when he looked at me. “I’ll send out a unit to bring him in.”
I just nodded my head, grateful I didn’t have to give the order. I would do it if I must because I had sworn to uphold the law, to protect and to serve. I couldn’t make exceptions just because I wanted to fuck the prime suspect. I cringed at my inner thoughts because I knew what I wanted from Josh was more than a fuck. I didn’t proclaim to be in love, but I sure as hell wanted more from him than to spread him out below me in bed.
Dreadful anticipation built inside me until I felt like I would implode while waiting for the officers to bring Josh in. I felt his presence in the precinct and slowly turned my chair to face him. I wanted to close my eyes, so I didn’t see the hurt and betrayal when his gaze connected with mine. Everything about the situation screamed how wrong it was and not just because I wanted him. I saw how he interacted with his clients, his friends, his pets, and people at the fucking grocery store when he didn’t realize I was watching. Okay, I sounded like a damned perv, but it just went to show how much I had seen with my own eyes. Josh Roman was no killer. I hated the situation more than he hated me right then. He was led to interview room one, and I was grateful to be away from his accusing stare, even if it was for just a minute.
“Look, why don’t you let me take care of this interview. You can watch on the monitor,” Adrian offered.
I shook my head. “No, Adrian. I can and will do my job. I will push my personal feelings aside and do what I’ve been hired to do.”
“Okay, but…”
“I got this,” I said, stepping around him and heading toward the interview room.
I could feel Josh’s hostility as I strode in the room with Adrian on my heels. I let Adrian take the lead by reading Josh his rights after I turned on the video camera. Josh refused to look at me, choosing to keep focused on Adrian.
“We already established that you don’t have an alibi for the night of the homicide when we last talked, Mr. Roman.” Adrian pulled out the photo of the scissors from the file, turned it around, and slid it in front of Josh so he could see it. “Care to tell us
how your scissors ended up buried in Georgia Beaumont’s carotid artery?” Josh flinched sharply before all of the color drained from his skin. I wanted to kick Adrian beneath the table, which was wrong because I would’ve approved of his method had it been anyone else.
“I-I-I-did not do that to her. I could never do that to someone.” Josh’s voice and eyes pleaded for Adrian to understand. He still didn’t look at me, and I needed to change that.
“Everyone is capable of murder,” I told him. The cold look he gave me said what he thought of my statement. I couldn’t let that sway me, so I pressed on. “You didn’t answer the question, Mr. Roman. How did your scissors end up at Mrs. Beaumont’s home?”
He turned back to look at Adrian and said, “I gave them to her a few years ago when I opened my new salon. She gave me a brand new blue set of shears as a congratulatory gift. In return, I gave her the first pair I had ever bought—the ones I had used to cut her hair for years.” His voice had cracked with emotion during the last few words, and he closed his eyes in what I thought was an effort to gather his composure.
“We need to get your fingerprints. You can volunteer, or I’ll get a warrant,” Adrian replied. “What will it be?”
“I’ll do it, but I already know my fingerprints will be all over them unless she wiped them off since then.” Josh turned and looked at me. His eyes went from cold to downright mean, and his next words cut me to the bone. “I do have an alibi for the night of Georgia’s death. I had an overnight guest who can testify to my whereabouts from seven o’clock until the time I left and ran into you outside her home.”
“Why didn’t you tell us about your alibi then?” Adrian asked.
“I didn’t want him to know,” Josh replied, nodding his head in my direction so that there was no doubt who he meant.
Inside I was seething, but not at him. He’d done nothing wrong, owed me nothing. I was furious with myself for fantasizing about a guy who truly meant what he said when he claimed not to want me. He had moved on and was trying to be discreet. I needed to put him behind me and do my fucking job.
Dyeing to be Loved (Curl Up and Dye Mysteries, #1) Page 8