Perfect Night

by Laine, Terri E.

  “Anyway, I learned a few things.”

  “What’s that?”

  “What do you know about the mayor?” he asked.

  I dipped my roller in the paint and started not far from him. “That’s an ominous question. Why do you ask?”

  Chapter 12

  Aiden

  Seeing her in my shirt was a problem. Seeing her in my shirt and in my house was a recipe for disaster because she looked as though she belonged here with me.

  “Aiden?”

  I vanquished those thoughts. “Yeah. Sorry. The mayor.”

  “Yes, the mayor.”

  “I went to go see him with the sheriff and he was really interested in what your plans were for the bar.”

  She stopped. “Why?”

  “Why, exactly. He claims not to want outsiders to get ownership of any of the local shops. I can see that. But he also brought up Jack as a potential buyer.”

  “What?” She shook her head. “I shouldn’t be surprised. No one around here keeps their mouth shut about anything.”

  “I don’t know much about Jack. What do you know?”

  As she spoke, I ran the paint roller down the wall because I had a hard time looking at her without wanting to put my hands on her.

  “Jack was Dad’s right-hand guy, besides me. I know he relied on him when I was busy with school.”

  “Is he trustworthy?”

  “I don’t know now. Like I told you before, one of the first things he told me the day after Dad’s funeral was how Dad was going to sell him the bar. I want to believe that maybe he’s afraid I’ll sell it without giving anyone a chance, but it did seem odd.”

  I agreed with her. “I hate to think anyone in this town is capable of murder.”

  “Me either, but something isn’t right. I feel it deep in my bones.”

  “I won’t give up. Though what I can do is limited. If I didn’t work for the sheriff, I could act more like a PI. But because I do, legally, my hands are tied beyond asking a few questions. We need to get the sheriff to formally open an investigation.”

  “How do we do that?” she asked.

  “I think at this point, we should consider an autopsy.”

  “You said they can do that.”

  “They can. The problem is it will cause quite the stir. Everyone will wonder. The sheriff will likely hate it. But it’s your right.”

  She put her roller down. “How should we handle this?”

  “As his living relative, you would have to request the autopsy. I can’t as it isn’t classified as a criminal investigation at this point. I’m not sure how long it would take, and it could be expensive like the sheriff suggested. But if the results show foul play, I’ll be able to take more of an active role in looking for the killer.”

  “Okay. Fine. I’ll do that. Whom should I call?” she asked.

  “I’ll find out and let you know.”

  She bent with her hand outstretched to grab the roller again but hesitated and stood again. “And if the results show no foul play—”

  “Or inconclusive results,” I added.

  “That too. Then, what?”

  “That will be up to you. I’ll search until there are no viable leads. It would be great if you have a security system at your house that I don’t know about that we could look back at that night to see when your dad left.”

  She shook her head. “I would have looked at that myself.”

  “There are other businesses in town that might. That’s something I’ll look into. It would be easier to get that video with a search warrant. Time isn’t on our side. I’ll ask those that might have it as they might have caught your father’s route to the bar or anyone else that might be seen going there. The bigger problem is the gossipers in town. The best way to get unbiased answers is if those I ask don’t know why I’m asking. It would be best for me to get those answers before your father’s body is exhumed.”

  “What can I do?”

  “You can give me a list of business on the route you and your father take from home to the bar. A lot has changed since the last time I was here.”

  “I can do that,” she said.

  It was a struggle not to ask about her relationship and tell her she had other options, namely me. I dipped my roller in the paint when she said my name. When I turned to face her, I brought the roller brush around too fast and paint went flying. Splatter hit her face and hair.

  “Oops,” I said, but damn if she wasn’t cute.

  “Oops?” There was only a glimmer of retribution in her expression before she flicked her brush my way. “Oops,” she said a second time. This time a statement.

  “So that’s how it’s going to be,” I asked, sporting a smirk.

  “Don’t you dare,” she warned.

  “You have no idea what I’m going to do.”

  She didn’t wait to find out. She ducked, putting her brush down and ran for the door.

  I hadn’t expected that, which left me a second or two behind.

  Outside, she had her hands up. “You don’t want to do this.”

  I waved the brush. “Don’t I? You look good in paint.”

  “You’ll have to catch me first,” she said, taking off in the direction of my backyard.

  I gave chase. Granted, she was quick, but my strides were longer.

  Over her shoulder, she yelled, “That better be water-based paint.”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know,” I shouted, closing the distance.

  She had no hope of winning and turned again, palms up. “Wait.”

  It was too late to stop my momentum. I took her down but managed to twist so she’d land on top of me instead of the other way around. The impact stole my breath, otherwise I would have laughed. In order to not crush her, the paint brush ended up in her hair.

  “Sorry,” I said.

  She narrowed her eyes at me but hadn’t otherwise moved. “No, you’re not,” she said with amusement. “Get this out of my hair.”

  I tried, but when she winced, I gave her the handle of the brush.

  “Your plumbing better work,” she declared.

  “Depends on who reaches the working bathroom first.”

  Before I could roll her to her side and get to my feet, she rolled the brush over the left side of my face. “Oops,” she said and leveraged herself off me. She was gone in an instant.

  Now paint was in my hair too. “I’m going to get you,” I called after her while laughing.

  She was up the stairs, having guessed right where the working bathroom was. I reached the bathroom door just as she closed it in my face.

  “My turn, first,” she said. Her voice traveled through the wooden door.

  “If you want to play it that way, you’ll find there aren’t any towels in there.”

  “Ugh,” she cried, knowing I’d ultimately won. Yet, a second later, the water turned on. “I’ll figure it out,” was the last thing she said.

  Now I was hard, painfully so as I heard clothes hitting the floor. Emma Hawkins was in my bathroom naked. Not wanting to feel like a teenager again, I walked to the hall closet where I stored towels. I got out two of the three sets I owned. I hadn’t thought much about needing more for guests. It was a good thing I’d done laundry the other day.

  I went into the bathroom attached to my bedroom and took in the paint job. I looked like an extra on Vikings ready for battle. I took a selfie to commemorate the moment. I’d probably delete it after I showed Emma.

  I peeled off my clothes and turned on the water. I’d lied to her just a little. The tiny bathroom worked but the pressure was low. Pipes creaked as the water worked its way out of the faucet. I heard a scream and grinned. I wasn’t sure because I hadn’t tested, but now I knew that the plumbing was prioritized to the master first. I’d just stolen the hot water.

  It took a while to get all the paint off with the water that seemed to trickle out of the pipes. I needed to call a plumber to get it fixed, but it wasn’t a priority.

 
; I was putting the towel around my waist when I stepped into my room. I wasn’t alone. Emma stood there drying her hair with one of the sets of towels I’d left on my bed. She wore one of my LAPD T-shirts, which hit her just above the knees. The rest of her shapely legs were bare as were her feet.

  She shrugged. “I improvised.” She glanced down to where I was looking. “Thanks for the shirt. I assumed you wouldn’t need this one.”

  I wasn’t that guy who got hard when I saw any half-naked woman. If Darcy stood in my room dressed as Emma did now, my dick wouldn’t stir in the slightest. Darcy was arguably a very attractive woman. Emma was different, and a towel wasn’t going to hide my reaction.

  “I uh—need to get dressed.”

  Emma’s eyes widened. “Oh sorry.” She bent and wiped away wet footprints before leaving the room. As she did, the damn shirt slid up her thigh giving me a flash view of the naked curve of her ass.

  I groaned inwardly and sighed when she was gone. Only then did I realize she must have walked naked from the shower into my room.

  It was late and I couldn’t let Emma drive home. It was going to be a very long night.

  Chapter 13

  Emma

  Holy smoke show. Aiden was a five-alarm fire which would explain why he was still dripping wet, or I’d have to call the fire department myself.

  When Aiden came out of the bathroom with only a towel around his hips, I almost swallowed my tongue, literally. I covered the choking noises I made by acting like I was clearing my throat. He hadn’t seemed to notice, thank goodness.

  When I’d peeked my head out of the bathroom, I’d heard running water down the hall. He’d lied about only one working bathroom, but I wouldn’t hold him to it as we’d been joking around.

  I took my chance and ran to his room while he was in the shower to find something to dry myself with before he got out.

  There on his bed I’d spotted a towel and snagged it. His shower seemed endless, so I’d taken it upon myself to rummage through his drawers for a shirt to borrow. I assumed he wouldn’t mind given he was insistent I wear one of his shirts earlier.

  After cleaning the floor, I pulled my jeans back on and tidied up the bathroom I’d used. That was where Aiden found me, bent over the lip of the tub scrubbing it with a sponge I found.

  “You didn’t have to do that.”

  I clutched my chest to catch my heart where it had nearly leaped out of my chest. I hadn’t heard him coming. “It’s okay.”

  I turned around and it was a damn shame he was dressed in a T-shirt and shorts. Evan had never looked this good.

  “Have you eaten?” he asked.

  Funny, I didn’t know and had to think about it. “Actually no.”

  “I don’t have much. I do have hot dogs and a pie my mom brought by.”

  My mouth began to water. “Apple?”

  “Yeah. She dropped it by earlier on her way into town to take eggs and produce the grocery store bought from the farm and sold to the town.”

  “Hot dogs and pie, sounds like a winner to me.”

  I went downstairs after finishing and washing my hands. He was grabbing a bag of buns when I walked into the kitchen. I sat on a bar stool, resting my elbows on the table, and placing my chin in my hands.

  “Do you cook?” I asked.

  “Are you questioning my hot dog skills?”

  “No. I’m just curious. I assume your mom did most of the cooking.”

  He handed me a plate with a hot dog and pointed at the fixings he’d left out. “I got a crash course when I moved out on my own. Buying takeout every day gets old.”

  “YouTube?” I asked, adding ketchup.

  “Sometimes. More often, I’d just call Mom and she’d walk me through it.”

  “That’s cool.”

  He looked at me then and I caught the pity. He remembered that I didn’t have a mom anymore and hadn’t had one for a long time. I waved him off. “It’s fine.” Though it wasn’t. Losing Dad had also brought the hurt from Mom’s passing back too. “Is that pie I smell?” I asked to change the subject.

  Clearly, I hadn’t known how hungry I was until I bit into the hot dog. It tasted like a slice of heaven. I moaned without realizing it.

  “You were hungry,” he said. I’d taken another bite and agreed silently to his amusement. “And yes, that is the pie. Mom thinks its sacrilegious to nuke it in the microwave. Thus it will be another ten minutes heating up.”

  That was fine by me. I gave him the thumbs up. By the time I finished one hot dog, he’d eaten two.

  He checked his smart watch and I hope that wasn’t a hint that I should leave because I wanted pie. “You should stay,” he said.

  I was stumped for a second. “Stay here?”

  “It’s late.”

  “It’s Mason Creek not LA. I’ll be fine getting home,” I said. Though I’d broken up with Evan and no longer had an excuse not to find out what it was like to be with Aiden Faulkner. The boy I’d secretly loved half my life.

  “I know. But it will make me feel better if you do. Otherwise, I’d have to drive behind you all the way home and who knows who would see me doing that and make assumptions.”

  He was right about that. “Or you could stay here, and I could call you when I arrived.”

  “I could do that, but you know I wouldn’t.”

  I narrowed my eyes teasingly. “You wouldn’t be blackmailing me, would you Aiden?”

  “Who said anything about blackmail? Chivalry isn’t dead, you know.”

  “Okay,” I said, and angled my head just a little as I prepared my next question. “Where would I sleep because that sofa looks ancient?”

  “You can take my bed. It’s the only one in the house.”

  I grinned because I had a feeling where this was going. “And where would you sleep?”

  “On the sofa.” he said all innocent-like.

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “And if I said I could stay but we share the bed, what would you think I meant?”

  “That we could be adults and share a bed to sleep in.”

  I bit my lip. “Do you have enough pillows to build a wall.”

  “In the middle?”

  I nodded, while holding back a laugh.

  “No, but I think I can keep my hands to myself.”

  “Do you? You couldn’t keep the paint to yourself,” I teased.

  “That was an accident. You took it too far.”

  “I wasn’t the one that tackled me.” I laughed.

  “You stopped and it was too late.”

  When our laughter subsided, his face got serious. He reached out and I swore my heart stopped for a second time that night. This time not from fear but anticipation.

  His thumb wiped at the corner of my mouth. “You had something there.”

  My pulse raced and my face flushed. My entire body felt like molten lava. I had to do something to stop all the physical reactions I had toward this man. “Pie?” I asked, breaking the moment.

  He too had been in his head and I longed to know what he’d been thinking. “Oh yeah.” He turned and got an oven mitt to bring out the warm apple pie.

  Without me asking, he grabbed some vanilla ice cream from the freezer, and we ate in silence until he said, “Are you staying?” halfway finished with his plate.

  It was a loaded question. “Yes. Though I think we need that moat.”

  That was my way of setting the rules. I wanted Aiden for sure. I didn’t think it was the right time for us to act on our mutual physical attraction. We were friends and I didn’t want to lose that with one night of stellar sex, if the rumors about his abilities were true.

  “One bed and one moat coming up.”

  When the leftover pie was put away and the dishes done, I followed him up the stairs. With each step I wondered if this was what it would be like to cohabitate with the man.

  With Evan I feared that we wouldn’t last living together. We were so different that wa
y. I had a feeling that it would be easy with Aiden. It felt easy now.

  Without asking, he handed me a pair of boxers. I kicked off my jeans and didn’t ask him to turn around. I didn’t fear him. I trusted him. Besides, the LAPD shirt of his I wore was practically a dress, longer than some. I pulled up the boxers and had to roll them several times.

  He just stood there.

  “Don’t be shy on my account. Sleep how you normally do. I don’t want to ruin your routine.”

  What he said next threw a monkey wrench into that plan. “I sleep naked.”

  If my inward self could come out, I would try to pry whatever hands were around my neck strangling me because naked, really. Naked.

  “I’ll just leave my boxers on,” he said.

  I didn’t have words, I tell you, as I watched him pull his shirt over his head. Then he pulled off his shorts. He wore boxers underneath but not the kind he’d given me to wear that were more traditional. The ones he had on molded to his ass and his package. Holy moly he’d been given the lottery winner of DNA mix.

  He pulled the sheets back and I forced myself to slip underneath. There wasn’t a moat, but we laid there.

  “Do you want the pillows?” he finally asked after a long moment of silence.

  “I’m good,” I said, not sure what to do next.

  He did. His arm came out and he pulled me to him. It felt right to curl up to his side. I rested my head on his chest and listened to him breath. Eventually, I was lulled into sleep. When I woke, we were on our sides with my back to his chest. I lay there for a while listening to his soft breathing and wondered why I never felt this way with Evan, the only other man I’d shared a bed with in this way.

  I eased away from him and onto my feet. I stretched my body needing my morning run. Though I could drive home and run. It seemed stupid.

  So I put on my sneakers and left Aiden’s house at a slow jog. It was different running here. The houses were widely spaced apart and there was nothing but the view of the mountains on the other side of the road. I found myself enjoying this better than running through town.

  I nearly made it back when a car behind me slowed. A quick glance over my shoulder and I slowed too.