Persuading Eve [Passion Peak, Colorado 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Tara Rose

  “Her car keys were missing from the apartment, along with about thirty bucks in cash. We know they were her car keys because her roommate said she always hangs them on the homemade key rack her son made her when he was in first grade. He died last year, and she kept the key rack as a memento to him.”

  Phil swallowed hard and struggled to regain his composure as Eve’s face floated through his mind. If anything like that ever happened to her, he’d die. “And the roommate?”

  “Was visiting her mother in Utah for a few weeks. Came home last night and found this woman dead. Only things missing were the cash they had hidden in a coffee can on the kitchen counter, the car keys, and the car. Credit cards weren’t even taken from the woman’s purse.”

  Phil nodded. “And now we have the license plate for the car.”

  “Unless he’s removed it by now.”

  But how do they know Martin killed her and stole her car?”

  Tommy snapped the notebook shut. “They don’t, yet. But the Rawlins cops lifted a few good prints in the apartment that don’t belong to this woman or her roommate, so they might know once they run them.”

  “This happened in Rawlins.”

  “That’s what I said. About two miles from the prison, in fact.”

  “Do they think he knew her?”

  Tommy rose and stretched. “Nope. At least, not as far as they can tell. Random act, probably. Her name was Lannie Henderson and she worked at the local Dollar General. Coworkers told the cops some guy matching Martin’s description came in earlier in the day and bought candy bars and junk food. She was one of the cashiers on duty. They said he was hitting on her and she was creeped out by it.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yep. So everyone here knows now. We’ll keep an eye out for him and the car. I’ve notified the staties, and Wyoming has done the same. I talked to a buddy of mine in Rawlins and we think letting Utah, New Mexico, and Arizona state police know as well is a good idea. Maybe even the FBI so it goes national.”

  “I agree.” Phil wanted to believe that Clay had just been passing through and was on his way to fucking Mexico by now. He really did. “What about the Shady Pines Motel and Belle Meade? No place else to hole up around here unless he’s camping in the woods or sleeping in that car.”

  Tommy nodded. “Already done. But Chief agrees with me that posting pics isn’t a great idea yet. No point in upsetting everyone in town unless we spot him again.”

  Phil wasn’t sure he agreed with Ken Scranton, their chief, but he wasn’t about to say so. He’d only be shot down, regardless. “So I guess it’s safe to say that Clay Martin violated parole.”

  Tommy chuckled. “Yeah. Definitely.”

  “Thanks, Tommy.”

  “Sure thing. And, keep your head down, Phil.”

  Right. If only it were that easy. So much for thinking this would turn out to be nothing. Score another point for Knox and his amazing intuition. The only question now was whether to tell only Knox or Eve as well. He’d have to make a decision before he went home. There was no way he could sit through dinner with both and hide this. Knox would see it, and Eve would at least suspect something was very, very wrong.

  Phil called Knox an hour later, after getting nothing done in the interim, and told him everything Tommy had said. They both agreed it was best not to say anything to Eve. She still had nightmares about some of the things Darrin had put her through, and unless someone spotted Martin in town again, the chances were high he was long gone by now. No use upsetting her or giving her yet more emotional triggers to deal with.

  “Want me to bring anything over tonight?”

  Phil twirled a pencil between his fingers. “No. I have it covered. But thanks for asking.”

  “I ran into a friend of Eve’s Saturday at Doli’s Diner.”

  “Yeah? Who?”

  “Felicity Featherstone. She was with Maverick and some guy named Kane Easton. I had no idea someone had come here looking for Trace Coleman.”

  “Yeah. I guess Kane is a legitimate paranormal investigator, so he wanted to expose Trace as a fraud and try to recover what was stolen from his grandmother. He did this town a huge favor. Trace is the FBI’s problem now, not ours.”

  “Maverick said he and Kane are both Felicity’s Doms.”

  Phil nodded. “That’s what Dalton told me.”

  “Everyone in this town is having sex but me.” Knox laughed, but Phil detected an undercurrent in his voice that tugged at his insides. His cousin was one of those guys that girls had ignored in school, not because he wasn’t good-looking or smelled funny, or any discernible reason like that. Knox had simply been there every day in class, in a nondescript way that had drawn absolutely no attention to himself. He’d always been a really nice guy, just invisible. Maybe Phil could change that for him, at least for a few hours?

  Should he ask him tonight, at dinner? Phil glanced around the squad room. He certainly couldn’t do it now. But would what Eve say if he brought up the subject in front of her? Phil wondered if he should sneak off shift a few hours early so he’d have time to discuss it first with Eve. He’d teased her often enough about Knox joining them in a scene, but he wasn’t entirely sure she knew that he was dead serious about that fantasy.

  “Phil? You still there?”

  “Huh?”

  “I asked if you’re taking Eve to Grandma’s birthday party.”

  “Oh. Um, yeah. Of course.” Their paternal grandmother turned ninety this month, and Phil’s parents had insisted on throwing her a party at the Belle Meade Hotel, even though she’d told them she didn’t want one. Phil’s parents didn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t want a party, so they were going ahead with the plans anyway.

  “You sound distracted. I’ll let you go.”

  “Yeah. Sorry. Just busy.”

  “No, it’s cool. See you later.”

  Phil stared at his computer screen a long time after Knox disconnected their call, but he wasn’t looking at anything on it. Instead, he was picturing a woman named Lannie that he’d never known. He couldn’t help but recall how and why he’d first become acquainted with Clay Martin and the scum he’d gone to prison with. Not too many tragedies that gruesome touched their charming, picturesque town.

  Six years hadn’t been long enough to erase the events that had led Phil to being instrumental in helping the Rawlins police and Wyoming State Police catch Martin, his brother Griff, and six other men who had taken part in most of the rapes. Phil typed on his keyboard until the faces of all eight men filled his screen. Except for the jagged scar across the left side of Clay’s face, courtesy of a broken bottle that one of the victims, an exotic dancer named Busty Brianna, had managed to wield long enough to cut him with before Griff had strangled her, none of the men looked odd or even scary.

  If any woman in Passion Peak saw one of them walking down the street, she’d be curious about the stranger, as most people in this town were, but there would be nothing about his face or the look in his eyes that would have her heading for Juniper Street and the police station. That’s what had made them so difficult to find. They hadn’t known any of their victims. Other than the report of Martin hitting on his latest victim in Rawlins, none of the men had reportedly been that overt.

  Was that because Martin was escalating? Had five years in prison made him desperate? He was alone. None of the other men would be eligible for parole for at least three more years. Was that why he’d snapped? Or, was it simply because he was a fucking monster and no amount of prison time would ever change that?

  Phil turned off his computer and knocked on Ken’s door. He told his chief that he had a splitting headache and would make up the time later in the week. Ken barely looked up from his desk and waved him away. “Go home. Get some rest.”

  Shoshone Road was only a short walk from downtown, but Phil wouldn’t have cared how long it took. He wanted to see Eve. He needed to look into her beautiful dark eyes, and hear her smoky voice. He needed to know that there was
good in this world, and every single time he was with her that point was driven home.

  Chapter Six

  Phil had given Eve a few instructions on how to dress tonight for dinner when he’d shown up unexpectedly at the clinic two hours before the end of her shift. At first, she’d been afraid to see him walk in, thinking something had happened. He almost never left work early, and he rarely came into the clinic during the middle of a shift. But he’d assured her that he’d taken off early to get everything ready for their dinner that night, and he had merely wanted to sneak in a kiss. How could she not find that romantic?

  They’d stolen a few precious moments in the empty back office, and then Phil had told her he had a surprise for her later that evening. No amount of begging had persuaded him to give her so much as a hint. She’d even flat-out asked him if the surprise had anything to do with the fantasy he always teased her about, but all he’d done was assure her that he’d invited Knox over for dinner only. They would not be playing with him tonight.

  That had left Eve stumped, and she begged some more, but he refused to say anything else. Eve didn’t mind. She loved it when Phil teased her like that. And she knew that no matter what the surprise was, she’d love it. The man had an uncanny knack for knowing what she wanted even before she did.

  He’d told her to wear something sexy and pretty, but also said he wanted her to be comfortable so that she’d have a good time. She’d changed clothes at least ten times before deciding on a watercolor print dress that Phil had always said reminded him of a painting. Knox would like that because of his interest in art. She had flat sandals that matched, so she slipped those on as well. Normally she went barefoot at home, but this way if the evening took on a casual enough vibe, she could easily remove the shoes.

  She’d set the table in the dining room they rarely used because Eve wasn’t sure what Phil was bringing home. If it turned out to be more like a pizza and beer night instead of lobster and wine, she’d simply scoop up the dishes and carry them into the den where she assumed the guys would be more comfortable eating.

  Phil gave her a loud wolf whistle when he walked in, carrying two cardboard cartons with The Black Whip logo on the side. The smell of stuffed mushrooms and baked chicken wafted past her nose, and she twirled for him. “You like it? It’s not too much, is it?”

  “It’s perfect.” That was Knox’s voice. He emerged from the garage behind Phil, carrying a bottle of wine. “You look like Almond Branches in Bloom.”

  “Fucking showoff,” muttered Phil. He dug in one of the kitchen drawers, took out a corkscrew, and tossed it at Knox. “Make yourself useful and open the wine.”

  “Don’t you think that dress looks exactly like the Van Gogh print?” asked Knox, grinning at her and Phil in turn.

  “Whatever.” Phil handed Eve the cartons. “All of this should still be hot, so be careful. Don’t burn yourself.”

  “It smells wonderful.”

  Once they were seated and the wine had been poured, Knox raised his glass. “To cousins and their fiancées. Otherwise I’d be eating leftover tuna fish and tomato soup from Doli’s tonight.”

  Eve clinked her glass against Knox’s, as did Phil, and she smiled at each man in turn before she took a sip, but the plaintive tone of Knox’s voice and the loneliness in his eyes tugged at her heart. She struggled for a way to include him in the conversation without making it obvious she was doing so, because he was too smart for that. He’d see right through it, and she didn’t want to give the impression she was patronizing him.

  “So Knox, is that your favorite Van Gogh painting? The one you said my dress reminds you of?”

  She cut her gaze quickly toward Phil. The look on his face was neutral. She knew he wasn’t even remotely interested in art, but she hoped he understood she was only trying to make Knox feel at home. Eve had known Knox all her life, but she’d barely had any contact with him before she’d begun to date Phil. She’d never disliked him, but she couldn’t get a handle on him. He had a lot of walls built around himself.

  “Actually, it’s not.” He stuffed a forkful of mushrooms into his mouth. When it was clear he wasn’t going to offer which one was his favorite, Eve tasted the mushrooms as well, savoring the flavor. She and Phil ate at The Black Whip at least twice a month, and she’d never had a bad meal there.

  “These are amazing,” she said. “Do you think Dalton would share the recipe? Mine don’t taste this way. What’s his secret?”

  Phil chuckled. “Yours taste great, and Dalton doesn’t share recipes, so don’t even bother asking him.”

  “The chicken is really good, too,” said Knox. He ate like he hadn’t done so in about a week. She had a sudden image of him hoarding food from Doli’s, and it made her sad to think that might very well be how he lived.

  “I love this salad.” Eve spooned a generous portion of the grape, feta cheese, and field greens onto her plate. “So which painting is your favorite, Knox? I’ll bet it’s Starry Night, right?”

  He shook his head. “The Red Vineyard at Arles.”

  “I don’t know that one.”

  “I have a print in my apartment.”

  Eve glanced at Phil, but he was busy eating. “Will you describe it for me?”

  Knox reached into jeans pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “I can do better than that.” He scrolled through the pictures and then handed Eve the phone.

  Phil finally looked up from his plate. “Dude, you keep pictures of the prints on your walls on your phone?”

  “No, this one is from the print that was in an exhibit at the art museum in Denver, smart-ass.”

  Phil frowned. “I thought you weren’t supposed to take pictures inside museums.”

  “So arrest me.”

  Eve giggled at the look on each man’s face, until Phil gave her what she’d come to think of his as his “Dom look.” It usually meant one of two things. She was racking up swats for her punishment spanking that week, or she was dangerously close to crossing a line. She wasn’t sure which transgression she’d committed, if any, and the small amount of wine she’d already drunk made her feel bold and playful so she decided to push it a bit. “Want me to get you a pair of handcuffs, Sarge?”

  He shot her a look of incredulity as Knox laughed and raised his wine glass again. “I like the way she thinks, Phil.”

  Phil grinned and leaned close to her. The scent of his cologne, musky and dark, mixed with the heavenly smell of the food, until Eve felt dizzy with need. How did he do that? “If you get them, Eve, we’re using them on you, not Knox.”

  She could actually hear the grandfather clock ticking in the den. It had belonged to Phil’s maternal grandmother, and when she died she’d left it to him. Eve loved to listen to it chime, but she didn’t believe she’d ever been able to hear it tick from two rooms over before. A car drove past outside, and it surprised her that she heard that, too, since the dining room faced the woods, not the street.

  Phil’s gaze held hers, stormy and teasing. Surely he was only messing with her. For one thing, he’d never restrained her. He’d said she wasn’t ready yet. But he was a Dom. They loved to mind-fuck with people, especially their subs. It was part of her attraction to him, because unlike Darrin, who had done it to hurt her, Phil did it to prolong her pleasure or give her new sensations. He never teased her out of spite or to harm her spirit in any way. He was very careful about that since she still had so many emotional triggers.

  But she had to have misheard him, or at least misunderstood him. He hadn’t meant “we” in the literal sense, as in he and Knox would put handcuffs on her. Well, they might put them on her, but they wouldn’t do anything about it. Not together. Not both of them. Phil certainly hadn’t meant that. Had he?

  All the months of teasing suddenly came down to this one tiny point in time, and Eve realized in a way she hadn’t before that he was dead serious. He was going to ask Knox to spank her and fuck her, and Phil was going to watch. He was going to do more than that. He was
going to participate as well.

  “Well?” His voice was soft but commanding, the same as it was during every scene. He was in full Dom mode right now. She wasn’t sure what to do. Every conversation they’d had about Knox joining them in a scene raced through her mind at lightning speed. She’d never really believed that Phil had been serious about it, until now. Did Knox know? Was he part of this? Had they talked about it?

  She dared to risk a glance at Knox’s face. He looked just as unsure and wary as she felt, so there was that answer. But he didn’t look disgusted, or afraid, or any of the things she’d expected to see on his face if the idea of doing anything with his cousin’s fiancée filled him with trepidation or revulsion. On the contrary, he looked uncertain, but also so turned on that her clit began to throb and her nipples tingled. Holy shit. Was this really going to happen?

  “I’m waiting for an answer, Eve.”

  She glanced into Phil’s eyes again and swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. “If that’s what you both want, Sarge.”

  “Um…” Now Knox looked uncomfortable. Eve wanted to crawl under the table. Had she fucked up completely? Had she seriously misunderstood Phil’s body language and the look in his eyes?

  “Relax, Knox. Just having some fun with Eve.” The tone of his voice suggested otherwise. Eve didn’t let out the breath she was holding until he winked at her, just before glancing at his cousin. “But now that the cat’s out of the bag, Eve and I have talked about it.”

  Eve took a large sip of wine and hoped the dim light in the room masked her face, which she was sure was the color of a freshly-boiled lobster right now.

  “Talked about what?”

  Surely, Knox wasn’t that naïve. He was simply being polite. He watched Phil’s face carefully, and when he cut his gaze toward Eve for a split second, she nearly gasped at the lust in his eyes. They were so identical to Phil’s eyes that once again she was struck by the fact that these two could easily be brothers.

  “Sharing her. She has this fantasy about being in a scene with two men at once.”