Honey House

by LAURA HARNER

  The hot springs bubbled into what amounted to an Olympic-sized pool that cooled the natural temperature of the groundwater to a steamy one hundred degrees. The pool was no deeper than four and a half feet, with stone steps and ramps leading into the pool on all sides. The smell of sulfur was biting, but not unpleasant. There was a raised dais, at one end of the pool, like a pulpit for a Sunday service. Large speakers mounted in all four corners of the room would ensure everyone could hear Ted’s message. Floor to ceiling windows provided a misty view of the stunning scenery.

  When we returned to her office, I was generous with my praise. It really was a beautiful facility, but they were land bound by the geography of the location. There was no room for expansion here; they would always have to depend on off-site lodging for accommodations.

  “Melissa, I want to thank you for your time, I’d be happy to put some brochures out, if you have any for me to take along. Let me know if there is anything I can do for you.” I was preparing to leave, and I’d not asked for anything or repeated my earlier offer.

  Melissa’s face pinched slightly, and I knew she was worried that my offer for the special treatment of her wealthiest clients was slipping away.

  “KC, I have an idea. Next month, we have one of our very special clients booked for a private session. It would be a much more personal experience for her if we arranged for her to stay at Honey House.” Melissa floated the idea, as if it were hers.

  I smiled inwardly, made the appropriate noises, and let her talk me into it. Now we were partners, she could trust me. After agreeing to meet the following week to walk through the accommodations, I once again turned to go.

  “Oh, I almost forgot Melissa. I really want to apologize for any trouble that awful reporter might have caused when he visited you. I had no idea he was going to go after me so viciously. He just didn’t want to listen to anything I had to say, he only wanted the story told his way. He had no interest in the truth,” I said, putting the frown on my face and in my voice.

  I bent to pick up my purse, not looking at her face. I didn’t need to; I could hear the change in her breathing. I was suddenly sure she’d spoken to Jason.

  “You know,” I said in a nearly confidential whisper, as I sat back up and locked my gaze with hers. I let my eyes fill with real sadness. “A child isn’t responsible for choices made by her parents. Some decisions are just out of your hands. In a lot of ways, our situations are similar. I can see that you take great personal pride in what you do here at Rapture. No matter what anyone thinks of your boss, you are providing true help for those who desperately need it.” I laid my hand on her arm, and when she looked at my eyes, I knew she would see the unshed tears.

  “What that reporter did was awful,” she whispered. “He snuck in with our last group. He lied about who he was. He took pictures of people, and then promised not to publish them if they lied about what we did here. He was twisting everything, trying to ruin us. He photographed houses of some of our needier clients, and made it look as though we were stealing from them. He refused to see we were making their lives better by giving them hope. He said I would go to jail for fraud, but that he could help me if I would get him in to talk to Ted, if I would reveal our company records.

  “He was going after us this week as a follow up to last weekend’s story and the were-ranch next week. He planned to sneak out there for the full moon this weekend and prove it was all a hoax. He was a bastard and I’m glad he’s dead,” she finished indignantly.

  I gasped at her cold-hearted remark, and then covered it with mock indignation. “How dare he? Who was he going after at the ranch?” I asked.

  “I don’t know for sure. He was meeting with the CEO after he left me. Raymond somebody. Jason called him just before he left here to say that he was on his way. He wanted me to hear, because there was a definite threat. Jason said that he’d find out who was at the top of the organization, or he would take out the underlings. He looked at me when he said underlings, really emphasized the word. He wanted to make sure I got the message.”

  Nothing she was saying made sense. Well, actually it made a lot of sense, except for one thing. It didn’t sound like the Jason I’d known. Granted, I didn’t know him well, but Jason struck me as an idealist. He’d walked out on me because he’d thought I was conning him about a fortune telling session.

  “I’m sorry, Melissa. At least you should be safe from his threats now.” I gave her arm a little squeeze.

  With a delicate snort, Melissa gave lie to that statement. Apparently, Merkham was making very nearly the same threat.

  ****

  With Gabrielle taking the next few days off, I would have to leave the front door unlocked during the day in case anyone wanted a room. I could feel the House, and knew it wasn’t bringing any more guests in for now. I left a “Be right back” sign taped to the antique bar that served as one of our counters, just in case. David and Edwin were our only guests, which was a good thing.

  I left a message on Quinn’s cell phone that I’d gotten the information he was looking for, and I would give it to him when he dropped by or in the morning. I was bone-weary and needed to be clean after talking with Melissa. I might be a better con than she was, but I felt dirty after playing her. Even if it was to help catch a murderer.

  What I needed was to run, but I just wasn’t up to all that time alone in my head, so I cranked up the music and did a quick set of hundreds: one hundred push-ups, one hundred sit-ups, and one hundred squat thrusts. After ten minutes of fast rope work, I was feeling almost human again. Sweaty, but human.

  I stripped my clothes off where I stood and then went upstairs to take a steaming shower. I let the water wash away the dirt that filled my head after what I’d done this morning. Sure, I’d been scamming someone who was taking money from people, that wasn’t what bothered me.

  It pissed me off that I’d enjoyed it. I’d enjoyed seeing it play out in my head, enjoyed it when Melissa had made the move, as I knew she would. And I’d enjoyed getting the final bit of information from her about Jason, even if it had been hard to listen to.

  As the last of the crème rinse washed down the drain, the bathroom door banged open with a crash.

  “Katie? Are you all right?”

  I opened the glass door and looked through the steam that poured out. “Quinn? What’s wrong?” I asked, an edge of panic to my voice. “What’s happened?”

  “Fuck,” Quinn said, and looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I’ll wait for you in the living room.”

  I didn’t hurry through the rest of my shower. I needed this time. I wrapped a giant white towel around my hair and threw on a short robe before I finally came downstairs to see what had upset Quinn.

  He was staring out the back door, drinking a Corona that I had bought for my dinner tonight with the guys. I sliced a lime and got a bottle for myself.

  “Do you want another beer and a slice of lime?” I asked.

  He finished his bottle, followed me to the little kitchen area, and helped himself. “Sorry about that,” he said and nodded toward the ceiling. I took that to mean he was sorry he’d barged into my bathroom.

  “No problem,” I said casually. “Mind telling me what it was about?” I asked.

  With a sigh, he said, “I guess I was nervous about sending you to Rapture. I got your message, but when I got here the music was blaring, and nobody answered when I knocked. I tried your cell phone, too. When I came in and saw the clothes…I thought the worst. Sorry,” he said again.

  I grinned. I might not like the big sheriff, but sometimes his heart was in the right place. “You were worried about me,” I said. “You of all people should know I’m not overly particular about where I take off my clothes.” I grabbed a plastic bag from under the counter and retrieved the sweaty clothes from the living room floor, while Quinn struggled with how to respond to that remark.

  He chose business. “I don’t want to go into all the details,” I started and Quinn interrupted.
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br />   “That was our deal.” He started to say more, but I held him off with a hand and a warning look.

  “I’ll tell you, just hold on,” I said. I went to my purse and retrieved the small recorder I’d worn hidden in my pocket. “It’s all on here; you can take it with you and listen later. There is the start of something bigger against Sparks and Melissa if you want to pursue it. No proof of anything, yet, but I have enough rapport to roll her if you want me to,” I said, and I looked away.

  “What you wanted to know today was whether Jason had been there on Sunday when he came back into town, and he had. He had the article mostly written and showed it to Melissa. He was trying to roll her, too. He told her he could help if she would give up her boss; otherwise, the paper would go to print with her as the manager and responsible for the business.

  “Jason had pictures of her customers, copies of receipts for how much they paid for a single Rapture cleansing, and pictures of them living in near poverty conditions. He’d interviewed some of the weakest, and it was clear they were emotional addicts of Sparks’ treatments. It would have hurt Rapture a great deal if it had been published. It would hurt Sparks’ current court case to have it revealed.”

  “You taped all that? How do you know I won’t arrest you for making an illegal tape?” he asked.

  “Because neither of us is stupid, Sheriff,” I answered tightly. “Why the fuck do you always have to be such an ass?”

  He stared at me with flat cop eyes, but said nothing.

  I was suddenly so tired of him; I just wanted to be alone. “You won’t arrest me because it isn’t illegal for one party to tape a conversation without the other’s knowledge in the state of Arizona. You won’t arrest me because I haven’t done a fucking illegal thing. Go listen to your tape, Sheriff. Sparks’ group has a major motive to want Jason dead. Go listen. It’s all on there.”

  I turned to walk away, and Quinn grabbed me by the arm. He twisted me around so that he was staring into my eyes, even as he towered above me. I don’t know what he was looking for, but I gave him blank face back. Cops weren’t the only ones with that skill mastered.

  He lowered his mouth slowly, until he met my lips. His kiss was electric, searing its way through me like a storm, wild, hot, unpredictable. His hands covered my body, sliding over the silk of my robe and tangling in my wet hair. One big hand closed over my breast and a moan escaped me at the feel of all his power.

  I let him kiss me, but God knows I didn’t want to enjoy it. I didn’t want to feel him, didn’t want to lose myself. When he moved his mouth from mine to trace a tongue across the mark he’d left on my neck, I pulled back slightly. Quinn looked at me then, as if finally realizing that my hands were not trailing over his body, as his were on mine.

  Our gazes locked and there was half a beat when neither of us said a thing.

  “Who’s running the con now?” I asked. Then I cinched the belt of my robe, and said, “Go away, Sheriff. I have a date tonight.”

  Chapter Twelve

  My bright multi-colored skirt swirled around my ankles and a white, low cut cotton top showed off my breasts. My hair was caught up in a swirl on the back of my head, the escaped curls framed my face and brushed my neck. I looked good tonight, and I knew it. As long as you overlooked the teeth marks. At least they were fading.

  Gregory swooped in through the doorway and headed straight for the kitchen carrying a large basket that trailed yummy smells. Owen had two cloth bags slung over his shoulder, and a mixed bouquet of flowers in his hand. He swept me into a hug and planted a surprisingly intimate kiss on my lips before following Gregory to the kitchen.

  As soon as Gregory’s arms were divested of his basket, he too turned and kissed me, not quite giving me tongue, but not exactly closed mouth either. I knew he could taste Owen’s kiss on my mouth, and it gave me an unexpected thrill in the pit of my stomach. Well, well.

  The evening air had turned cool, as it so often did here, and I’d started a fire in the living room and in the patio fire pit. The spicy evergreen smell of burning juniper provided a soft backdrop along with a salsa mix on the stereo.

  While the men organized the food and put the flowers in a vase, I made the drinks. The ingredients for frozen margaritas went into the blender. I also put out three Coronas, three shot glasses filled with El Tesoro tequila, a plate of limes, and a bowl of course salt. I was not messing around; I wanted a fiesta tonight.

  We each drank a shot, using the salt first and the lime last, just to kick things off. I rimmed the margarita glasses with salt and poured the concoction while I enjoyed my beer. I really didn’t drink very often, but if I was going to drink, I usually did it up right. The bartenders on the cruise ships had found me a willing pupil. I handed out the margaritas and we all settled on the patio to watch the fire dance in the night.

  “It’s been a really tough week for you. How are you holding up, KC?” Owen asked, his handsome face more serious now than it had been inside.

  “I’m good.” I sighed, and we all heard the wistfulness in my voice.

  “What’s wrong, gorgeous?” Gregory asked.

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about it; I just want to feel good tonight. No gloomy talk. You two are the happiest people I know, and I want you to share some of that happiness with me.”

  Gregory grinned at Owen, and then hopped up. “I’m going to put dinner in the oven; it’ll be ready in twenty. How about one more margarita before dinner?”

  “Sure,” Owen said easily.

  “Hey, did you guys remember to bring your suits? We’re going in the hot tub still, aren’t we?” I asked.

  Gregory went inside, but Owen answered, “I’ll wear a suit if you make me, but I’d rather be naked.” He laughed.

  “That might take a few more margaritas on my part.” I laughed with him.

  Gregory popped back through the door, my refilled glass in his hand. “Your wish, my command.”

  Dinner was fabulous. Gregory served spinach enchiladas and a fresh salad with cilantro dressing. We ate outside next to the fire, and it was one of the most enjoyable meals of my life. The company and the food were first class. Since the men brought the food, I volunteered for dishes while they went to change into their suits.

  After dinner I switched to sipping the tequila straight. It was a very fine agave tequila, and even more enjoyable without all the extra flavors mixed in. I knew I needed to slow down; there was no way I could keep pace drinking with either man.

  It was easy to think of Gregory as the smaller man, when looking at Owen’s broad six-foot-plus frame, but truthfully, Gregory was only an inch or two shorter. Gregory had the sleek build of a runner, all lean muscles and lanky limbs. Owen was the brawn of the pair. Either way you looked at it, they both had a lot more body mass than I did. They were several glasses ahead of me and I was already very pleasantly buzzed.

  I changed into what I liked to think of as my evening swimsuit, a black one piece, low cut front and back, and flattering. I brought out three large bath sheets to wrap ourselves in when we were finished.

  The hot tub was actually formed from the same natural hot springs as the pool at Rapture. It was located in a very isolated area, down several steps from the patio. Some clever designer in the past had used a combination of natural rock and fiberglass to mold the tub into the side of the hill. Only accessible from the owner’s apartment, it was big enough to seat six, if everyone was well behaved. I usually escaped here two or three times a week for a little nude sunbathing.

  Candles glowed softly from the surrounding outcroppings, casting shadows, and making the whole area a glowing vision. Gregory sat with his back to me, chest deep in the water. Owen was facing me, but his eyes were closed, so he didn’t see me approach. His hands were pressed against the edge of the tub, on either side of Gregory, and he was kissing him, long and deep, and with a lot of tongue. What to do, what to do?

  I wanted to turn away, to give the lovers some privacy. I wanted to joi
n them and ask to be kissed like that, too. Instead, I stared, and watched their mouths, so hungry for each other, so lost to the world. I’d never seen two men kiss before, and color me surprised. It was goddamn hot!

  I finished my drink, poured another, and sat on the step, waiting for just the right moment to interrupt them. Gregory moaned and laid his head back against the deck, and Owen pressed himself closer. The kiss deepened, and I thought it looked like Owen was fucking Gregory with his tongue.

  The tingling between my legs confirmed just how hot I thought this was. I couldn’t look away. Owen opened his eyes, our gazes locked and he groaned, low and sexy. He gently drew back from the kiss, taking his time, finishing with licks and love bites before pulling back completely. We smiled at each other.

  “Come on in, KC, we won’t bite, the water’s divine,” Owen said. “Bring your bottle, my glass needs topping off.”

  I refilled all the glasses, and slid into the water on the opposite side of the hot tub. There were no lights, just the feel of either the natural stone or the smooth fiberglass, depending on where you sat. I was on a stone step, waist deep and Owen reached out and grabbed my hand. Then he hauled me across and planted me between the two of them.

  “I don’t think—”

  “Shh,” Owen said. “Don’t think. No one’s asking you to do anything. Just sit with us and relax.”

  Gregory never lifted his head from his semi-recumbent position. “God, this feels so good,” he murmured, his eyes still closed. Owen sank back into the water on the other side of me, and sighed his contentment.

  I felt rather foolish sitting so upright between the two men, so I slid down until the water lapped over my bare shoulders, and rested my head against the side. After a while, Gregory slipped his hand in mine, and it was a warm comfort.

  We soaked like that for about ten minutes, but eventually had to sit up to let our upper bodies cool off. The natural spring was too hot to stand for any longer than that. We finished our drinks and Owen poured another round. Talk was casual, drifting from subject to subject with a lot of laughter mixed in between. Gregory was one of the funniest people I had ever met, but Owen always gave him the best set up lines. They worked together as a pair in nearly every story either one of them told.