Reluctant Suspicion

by Finn, Scarlett

  ‘Why do you do this to me?’ she breathed, while she scrutinised his face. ‘What do you want now? Just ask me, please, Blake, whatever it is, no more games. Ask your questions, don’t play with me. I can’t be hurt again. I can’t let you—‘

  His mouth sucked the last of the words from her throat. The whine that emanated from her caused him to grab her hard against him. She didn’t have the power to fight, and her body collapsed against his in surrender. Clawing at his tee-shirt, she tried to become him, to be a part of him, to take from him some of his strength and impart her pain to him.

  Hot, wet tongues battled to taste one another. His hands explored her body, tickling every inch of her that he touched, and she revelled in his lips because she didn’t feel alone in this moment. Trust shouldn’t be readily bestowed on him, yet instinctively he knew where her mouth was going, and he countered her every move. They kissed like long-deprived but devoted lovers, and he clutched at the back of her head as though to never let her mouth free.

  Forcing her hands up from his chest to his cheeks, she tasted his slick mouth and absorbed every second that she could from the sensual suction that bonded them in this thick night.

  His lips massaged hers until the tingling turned to a vibration, a hot buzz that wound its way through her until her own delight seared to a hungry desire. He could have her, now. And the possibility of that idea told her to remind herself of what he had done. He had lied; their connection had never been real. He had made a mockery of her.

  ‘Stop,’ she gasped, when she tore her mouth from his.

  ‘I can’t,’ he breathed against her, causing her eyes to drift shut and her stomach to cramp in bliss.

  He nuzzled at her neck, his rough stubble grazed her shoulder and tickles flooded her already-alert body. Lips touched her skin, rough but soft, tender but demanding. He wanted her. He was doing it again, burning her with desire, flattering her with attention. When he sucked her neck where it met her shoulder, she whimpered, and his mouth scorched her sensitive skin as he teased her with the tip of his damp tongue.

  Running her hands up into his hair, memories of her hallway drenched her mind. Back when she thought he might be hers, when she thought there may be something between them.

  ‘This isn’t allowed,’ she murmured into his hair, unable to open her eyes and let go of this moment. Moving her face back and forth, she buried herself in his hair, drowning in his scent.

  ‘I don’t care,’ he said, continuing his caresses on her neck.

  Moving across her shoulder, he slid the strap of her top down and kissed toward the swell of her breast. Then on grasping her waist, he held her to the tree in a way that made her think he wanted to progress things.

  ‘Isn’t there a law against this?’

  ‘Several,’ he mumbled against her cleavage. One of his hands slid up from her waist to take her breast in his hand, and she shivered when his thumb grazed her nipple through the fabric of her top.

  ‘I have to go,’ she said, trying half-heartedly to urge his mouth from her skin.

  ‘No, you don’t,’ he said, and again his hands moved to her waist to hold her in place. His thumbs pressed into the hollows below her ribs, wringing another moan from her lips.

  ‘Enough,’ she said, and tried to push his shoulders away, but he resisted. ‘Blake… enough.’ When she pushed again, he relented and lifted his head, but he grumbled at the displeasure.

  ‘You make me wild, babe,’ he said, still caressing her waist with his palms.

  This statement brought reality crashing back to her. He had used the same words in her hallway, and now she didn’t know if he meant them then and now, or if it was a line he used with every woman that he seduced for his job. She couldn’t discount the possibility that he had forgotten he had already used the line with her.

  Pushing his wrists away, she removed his hands from her body, and with another glance into his drowsy stare, she turned and began to walk away.

  ‘Mol,’ he called after her. ‘Molly, wait!’

  The sound of his feet on the grass gained on her until again he took her arm and tugged her to a halt. ‘Leave me, Blake… please.’

  ‘What changed?’ he asked. ‘I thought we were—‘

  ‘Were what? Going to fuck against a tree in a cemetery? Sixteen feet from my father’s grave?’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘No, I wasn’t going to… that wasn’t my intention, but—‘

  ‘But what? What, Blake? If it’s not sex you want, then what is it?’ A silent moment passed between them and realisation dawned on her, she had been right all along. ‘Ah… What about the case? Right?’

  ‘We have to talk about it.’

  ‘Do we now?’ she said, then turned and continued to walk away.

  ‘Like it or not!’ he shouted after her. ‘Until this is done, you and I will continue to cross paths! You won’t get rid of me until the murderer is locked up!’

  These words caused Molly to stop in her tracks. He was right. Until they could put all of this behind them, there would be no getting rid of Blake Carson. He had every excuse to stalk and harass her until this was finished.

  Tossing her hair back over her shoulders, she thrust them back, and spun around to march back in his direction.

  ‘Fine then,’ she said, as she passed him without a glance. ‘Let’s get it over with… Take me to your place.’

  Chapter Sixteen

  Bringing Molly here to his house, which was set alone on a hilltop, probably wasn’t a very good idea. But regaining her trust had become important to him, more important than he had realised until he stood watching her wondrous gaze soak in every detail of his hallway. From there she went into the kitchen, which had an open plan dining area and sliding glass doors on the back wall that led to a wide deck. She turned three hundred and sixty degrees, a couple of times, absorbing the environment.

  ‘This place is amazing.’

  ‘I know,’ he said, and went to the fridge.

  ‘What a view.’

  When they entered, she’d shown no interest in the stairway in the hall that led up. Nor had she proceeded through the wide arch to the right of the kitchen, which would take her to the lounge. The living room was so vast that he had a separate space for a pool table. At present all Molly was interested in was the view through the glazed back wall of the kitchen that actually ran the full width of the building.

  She didn’t seem to see the warm wooden floors that he’d taken time to finish himself, or the neutral colours and minimalist décor that his almost sister in-law had taken time to perfect. Though the minimalist thing wasn’t so much of a conscious decision, he just wasn’t much for shopping.

  The brushed steel fridge here in the kitchen, and the pool table in the living area, were two of his favourite things in the house. At least they had been until Molly walked in; she had just jumped to the top spot.

  ‘You have decking out here,’ she said, with her hands curled around her face so she could peer through the glass and see outside.

  ‘Yeah,’ he said, taking a couple of beers from the fridge. ‘It’s quiet up here, there’s no one around for half a mile. I get away with a lot of nude sunbathing.’

  He closed the fridge and about-faced to take Molly her drink. She peeped at him over her shoulder, and her coy demeanour made his heart and his jeans almost explode. Her glorious, genuine smile was spread across her face and directed at him. He’d had no expectation that his joke would afford him such a treat in return.

  ‘I’ll need to remember that,’ she said, and sauntered into the room, ignoring the fact that he was standing holding two beer bottles so that she could go through and scrutinise the living room. ‘I’ll bring my camera next time.’

  Next time. The hope burst in his gut, though his jaw clenched as he told himself that she wasn’t serious. Maybe, just maybe.

  What had happened in the cemetery hadn’t been expected, it hadn’t been planned. But he couldn’t help himself, and she had kissed him
back. When he pushed his mouth to hers he had been sure that she would struggle away from his grip, but she hadn’t. In that instant, her body had surrendered to him. When her tongue touched his, every primal instinct within him had wanted to drag her back to his cave, and now here she was. Molly was in his house. The woman that had plagued and tortured his thoughts all week was here.

  The call about the fire at Ashton’s had come into his office just as he was ready to go home, and he had almost missed it. The news seemed to be delivered in slow motion, and they had clamped around his heart. All he could think about was her. Fear for her wellbeing had eaten at him as he flew around the corners to get to Ashton’s as fast as he could. He’d made mental plans to flee the country after the murderous spree he would go on if anything had happened to her.

  In his life, he had never been as terrified as he was on that journey to her. Never. Not knowing was the hardest part, he’d had no idea if she was in the bar and no idea if she was ok. The worst case scenario was all that came to mind time and again, and it made him want to drive himself straight off the road.

  ‘Can you find out about the bar?’ she asked, and he realised she was in front of him, taking the beer.

  ‘Oh,’ he said, almost dropping his own bottle. ‘Sure. There might not be many specifics yet.’ Discarding his beer onto the kitchen table, he snaked around the centre isle and grabbed a phone from the wall

  ‘Blake,’ she said when he started to dial. ‘Don’t tell them I’m here.’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘Of course not.’

  His impulse to agree with her left his question unasked, why didn’t she want them to know that she was here? Having her here wasn’t advantageous for him from a career point of view – Williams would tear him a new one. But why Molly wouldn’t want them to know was a mystery.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘Can I sit?’

  ‘Make yourself at home, babe… Molly.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  She propped herself on the very edge of one of his dining chairs, and he stopped dialling to frown at the awkward action. She took a tiny sip from her beer and he read the tension radiating through her body. Disconnecting the phone, which he hadn’t finished dialling, Blake lowered it onto the counter, but kept hold of it.

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’

  ‘What?’ she asked. ‘Nothing, nothing is wrong… why would anything be wrong?’

  ‘Look at you,’ he said, starting toward her. ‘You look like a scared kitten.’

  ‘My home was burned to the ground tonight, forgive me if I’m slightly unsettled.’

  ‘That’s not it.’ Blocking her view of outside with his body, he widened his stance and folded his arms to take the time and scrutinise her.

  ‘What? Stop looking at me like that,’ she said, and her vision darted from her bottle on her knees to him and back to the bottle.

  ‘Talk to me. What’s in your head?’

  ‘Can we just talk about the case… please?’

  ‘I want to know what is bothering you,’ he said, crouching in front of her and tossing the phone onto the table. ‘Whatever it is, I can fix it.’

  ‘No, you can’t.’

  His breathing stilled when her moist palm rose to cover his cheek. ‘I can, Molly.’

  Her head tilted, and he realised that she was studying him as intently as he had her. ‘You’re really not who I thought you were.’

  Confusion and hurt drifted in her eyes like the tide. Never did it occur to him that he was what was troubling her. With everything that was going on, he wouldn’t think that he would feature in her thoughts.

  The phone rang, breaking their moment. Blake rose to his feet and snatched it from the table. ‘Carson,’ he answered.

  ‘I’ve always wondered why you answer the phone like that. You sound like an idiot,’ his almost sister in-law chirped on the phone line.

  ‘Thanks. What do you want, Luce?’ he asked, wandering toward the kitchen.

  ‘Are you going to Mom’s this weekend?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m going to ask this one more time… You know you’re not married, right?’

  ‘She told me to call her Mom.’

  ‘I hit on you when we met… It’s more of a courtesy thing.’

  ‘Yeah right, Blake,’ Lucy smiled down the phone. ‘You were hot for me.’

  ‘So much so that I left early and slept with that waitress.’

  ‘She wasn’t a waitress… she was a stripper.’

  ‘She really wasn’t,’ Blake said, straightening his appliances. ‘If you’d seen her body you would know that no one would pay to see that.’

  ‘You are such a bastard,’ Lucy said. ‘I bet you never called her either.’

  ‘Why do you think I refer to her as a waitress…? I didn’t even know her name.’

  ‘How are you and Brandon related?’

  ‘I know,’ Blake said. ‘We think he was switched at birth, but don’t tell him. He’ll be devastated to learn that his real parents were reptiles.’

  Lucy laughed and Blake sauntered to the fridge and began to pick at the loose gum on the notepad next to it. ‘His parents, or yours?’

  ‘Touché.’

  ‘We all know you’re not as much of a bastard as you pretend to be. Mom says you just need to find a nice girl.’

  ‘Damn,’ Blake said. ‘Thirty-four years and I still haven’t fooled the old lady.’

  ‘Have you?’

  ‘Have I what?’ he asked.

  ‘Found a nice girl?’

  ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘Brandon thinks you have a crush,’ Lucy said. ‘He said you mentioned someone when you were over the other night.’

  ‘You’re a termite. You just burrow and burrow and make a huge mountain out of—‘

  ‘Oh my God!’ she screeched at such volume that he had to hold the phone away from his ear. ‘What’s her name?’

  ‘Luce,’ he said. ‘You’re deluded.’

  ‘If it wasn’t true then you would be telling me about some slut you banged… but you’re not, so it’s true, isn’t it?’

  ‘Luce. When was the last time he fucked you?’

  ‘Last night, thank you,’ Lucy said. ‘Stop trying to change the subject.’

  ‘He’s obviously not doing it right,’ Blake said. ‘You’re hyped up on unreleased endorphins. Honestly, I would seek help if I were you. I’d come over at help you out myself, but I’m busy tonight. Take a pill and I can be there in the morning.’

  ‘I’m going to call Jason,’ she said.

  ‘No, you are not going to call Jason… his girlfriend left him because he couldn’t satisfy her. He’s not a good bet for delivering you to climax.’

  ‘Not for sex, you dope. He’ll know who this girl is.’

  ‘Luce, will you just leave it alone? I’ll be there this weekend… maybe.’

  ‘Will you bring her?’

  ‘No!’ Blake said a little too loudly. ‘Absolutely not.’

  ‘Are you scared that Brandon will steal her?’

  ‘Shouldn’t you be more scared of that than me?’

  ‘No,’ Lucy said. ‘He would never leave me. But she might see what a real, decent man is like and cut you loose.’

  ‘Luce,’ he said. ‘I sense a great, big, hairy spider coming into your life in the near future, or a snake, yeah, a snake. You better go check under your bed, never know what creepy-crawly you’ll find under there. I’ve got to go.’ He hung up the phone and smiled down at it with a shake of his head. ‘Freak,’ he mumbled to himself.

  ‘Was that your girlfriend?’

  Blake had almost forgotten that Molly was here, in his house. It was too much like a dream to have sunk into his reality yet. With a shake of his head, he returned the phone to its cradle. ‘No, my brother’s girlfriend.’

  ‘You talk to your brother’s girlfriend like that?’

  ‘They’ve been going out for more than ten years. She’s more like a sister.’

  ‘You woul
d talk to your sister like that?’

  ‘Like what?’ he asked, opening a drawer in the centre isle to retrieve a police file.

  ‘About… sex and stuff.’

  ‘Everyone talks about sex,’ he said, dumping the folder to the table and pulling up a chair beside her.

  ‘You offered to go over there and sleep with her.’

  ‘I didn’t mean it,’ he said, kicking himself for not being more careful of his words while Molly was present. ‘I would never touch her, not really. It’s just teasing.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Molly opened the file and began to read.

  Staring at her profile, he waited for further explanation and got none. ‘Hmm? What is hmm?’

  ‘Nothing,’ she said, and turned a page.

  Slapping his hand onto the file, he shoved it away. ‘No, what is hmm?’

  She faced him, with a glint of knowing written into her features. ‘It just seems to me that someone who is so… direct like that—‘

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s like you don’t want to let anyone get too close to you. Like you use sex and innuendos as a way to distract people or make them uncomfortable.’

  ‘Wow,’ he said, and bobbed his head. ‘Ok.’ Dragging the file back, he began to read himself.

  ‘Ok? What do you mean, ok?’ Molly said, and she was the one to push the file away this time. ‘Am I right?’

  ‘Maybe,’ he said with a loose shrug. ‘I hadn’t thought about it like that before.’

  ‘My question would be, who hurt you so much that you are scared to let anyone else in?’

  ‘No one, I’ve always been like this.’

  ‘Oh,’ Molly said, and slid the file back to her attention.

  ‘Not oh,’ he said, propelling the file further from her again. ‘It’s true.’

  ‘Ok. But… it can’t be completely true.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because you weren’t like that with me. You weren’t a chauvinistic pig with a misplaced sense of humour when we were together… I was a job… It explains why you’re so good at the undercover thing, with me, with all of them. You had an exit strategy. There was no risk of us getting close enough for you to get hurt. So you didn’t have to be abrasive.’