by Diana Miller
His fingers slipped under one strap of her sundress, caressing the crest of her breast. The Clothes Garden hadn’t stocked strapless bras, so Lexie was braless tonight. Her nipple pearled, and she shifted against Ben, silently urging him to move his fingers lower.
“I think we should get out of here,” he murmured, his lips a fraction of an inch from hers. “Because people would expect us to.”
“Right. Cecilia drove, didn’t she?” He kissed her again.
“Sorry to interrupt, Ben, but Cecilia needs help.”
Peter’s voice broke through Lexie’s lust-induced stupor.
“Dylan’s about to get into a fight with Lyle Martin,” he continued. “Cecilia’s trying to calm him down, but it isn’t working.”
Ben released Lexie. “Damn. Where is he?”
“In Lee’s parking lot,” Peter said.
Lexie followed Ben and Peter off the dance floor. It was amazing how fast her mind focused and her hormones cooled down. Probably because she didn’t want any beneficiary besides the one she was sure had killed Max to end up in jail overnight and therefore lose out on the trust, since that could trigger a lawsuit that would upset the trustee. And she especially didn’t want that to happen to Dylan, which would also upset J.P.
A dozen people had gathered to watch the show going on in the blacktopped parking lot of Lee’s Market.
“Ben. Thank God,” Cecilia said when she spotted him. “He won’t listen to me.”
“I’m going to knock you on your fat ass,” Dylan said. His hair was halfway out of his ponytail, and he was nose to nose with a guy who was bigger and presumably just as drunk as he was.
“Who are you calling a fat ass?”
Ben stepped up and took Dylan’s arm, pulling him away from his opponent. “Dylan, it’s time to leave.”
“I was dancing with Mary Lynn, and he butted in. I have to defend my honor. And Mary Lynn’s honor.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“He’s too chicken to fight me,” Lyle said.
“I’m not chicken. Ben, this asshole claims he’s gonna bust my pretty face, but I’ll show him. I’ll beat the shit out of him.” Dylan tried unsuccessfully to shake free of Ben’s arm.
In response, Ben grabbed Dylan’s other arm. “Maybe you will, but if you beat the shit out of Lyle, you’ll be hauled to jail.” His calm tone was a marked contrast to Dylan’s belligerence. “We won’t be able to get you out until tomorrow, so you’ll miss out on spending tonight at Nevermore. You know what that means, don’t you?”
“That I’ll lose Grandfather’s money?”
“At least you’re sober enough to remember that,” Ben said. “Do you honestly think punching out this guy is worth all those millions?”
“I forgot the bastard’s loaded,” Lyle said. “Hell, I’m going to sue him for threatening me.”
“Trust me, you don’t have a case,” Lexie said.
Lyle looked at her and snorted. “You’re the stripper, aren’t you? What the hell do you know about suing people?”
Lexie lifted her chin. “Actually, I’m a cocktail waitress. Some of my best customers are lawyers, so I’ve learned a lot about lawsuits. You bring a frivolous one, and the judge won’t like it. You’ll end up paying a whole lot of attorneys’ fees and court costs. You’ll probably also end up paying Dylan a fortune, since from what I heard, you threatened him more than he did you. In front of a lot of witnesses.”
Ben smiled at the petite redhead who was watching the fight with interest. “You’ll have to stick with your fiancé tonight, Mary Lynn. Dylan has to go.” He turned his attention to Cecilia. “Lexie and I were about to leave, so we’ll take him home.”
“Mary Lynn is engaged to that bozo?” Dylan asked as he, Ben, and Lexie made their way to Ben’s truck.
“Yep.”
“Why’d she come and ask me to dance?”
“Maybe because her fiancé isn’t about to inherit a fortune,” Ben said.
“And because you’re much sexier than he is,” Lexie added. Alcoholics frequently had self-image problems. Letting Dylan think his only attraction was his bank balance wouldn’t help that.
Dylan put his arm around Lexie. “I’m also a lot sexier than Ben. And I’ve never made it with a stripper.”
Okay, so a poor self-image wasn’t the reason Dylan drank too much.
“Get your hands off my woman, or I’ll be forced to beat the shit out of you,” Ben said before Lexie could respond.
Dylan released Lexie. “Then you’d end up in jail and miss out on Grandfather’s money.”
“Here’s the truck, Dylan,” Ben said. “Let’s get you into the back.”
“Isn’t it illegal for a person to ride in the back?” Lexie asked as Ben helped Dylan into the bed of his pickup.
“You want him squished between us?” Ben asked. “He could puke any minute.”
“You’ve got a point.”
When Lexie and Ben were seated in the pickup, she gave him a saccharine smile. “It’s so sweet you’d give up your inheritance for me.”
“I’ve never made it with a stripper, either.” He started the truck.
The drive home was silent, except for snores loud enough to be heard over the pickup’s engine. Lexie watched through the back window, concerned Dylan might jump or fall out. But he was lying so still that if he hadn’t been snoring, she’d have worried he was dead.
“I’d better make sure Dylan gets into bed,” Ben said when they’d arrived at Nevermore. “The trust doesn’t specify that he stay inside the house, but he could decide he needs to take a leak and wander into the next county.”
“That’s a good idea.” Lexie opened the passenger door. “Do you need my help?”
“I can handle him. Go to bed.”
She waited until Ben was out of the pickup before heading into the house. “Thanks for convincing me to go to the dance and giving me a ride home.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Ben said, coming up beside her.
“It was—interesting.”
“It was. You’re a hell of an actress.” Ben smiled slowly and ran a finger down her cheek. “Assuming you were acting.”
His touch shot heat through Lexie’s body. She took a step backward, away from his finger. “I was.”
His smile grew. “Right. Sleep well, Lexie.”
# # #
Ben’s smile faded as he dragged Dylan upstairs and deposited him on his bed, and not just because Dylan was damn heavy. To be honest, he was grateful to Dylan, since otherwise he’d have been in danger of doing something really asinine, like taking Lexie to bed. He’d only kissed her to convince the crowd—and Jeremy—that she was at Nevermore because she was his girlfriend. For some reason he’d gotten carried away, just like he had that night after Walt’s.
But he was not sleeping with Lexie, even though she’d turned out to be a lot different than he’d expected, even though he enjoyed talking to her, even though she made him hotter than any woman in recent memory. A one-night stand with her would be a bad idea for all sorts of reasons. As he’d told Grandfather, he had a feeling it was also more likely to make her leave than stick around.
And she was going to be furious enough when she found out he’d lied to her.
CHAPTER 12
Thank God for Dylan. Lexie woke up mentally repeating the same mantra that had lulled her to sleep last night. Because if Dylan hadn’t been stupid enough to get drunk and into a fight, she’d probably have done something even stupider.
What had she been thinking? Granted, there wasn’t any ethical reason not to sleep with Ben. He wasn’t her client, and First Trust knew she was working with him. He also wasn’t a suspect. She’d realized almost immediately that her theory that Max might have had her work with Ben in hopes he’d trip up didn’t make sense. Max didn’t want his murderer to realize he knew he’d been murdered, so he certainly wouldn’t have alerted Ben if he suspected him. More im
portant, Max would never have endangered Jessica’s niece by putting her in close contact with someone he considered capable of murder.
Just because sleeping with Ben wouldn’t jeopardize her career didn’t make it a good idea, though. She didn’t do one-night stands, and no way would Ben ever fall into the relationship category. Her ideal man was the intellectual, professional type, someone with more brains than brawn, who shared her interests and desire to get ahead. Even though he’d proven to be a lot smarter and more evolved than she’d originally feared, and ambitious enough to want to expand his business, Ben wasn’t in the same book as those guys, let alone on the same page. Her mother would have a fit.
Which was the point.
Lexie sat up in bed, the explanation so obvious she couldn’t believe she hadn’t figured it out before. Sleeping with Ben would simply be another of her periodic mini-rebellions against her mother, like buying shoes in a non-neutral color or eating at a restaurant that didn’t have a wine list or, worse yet, at a Burger King. Some of it could also be her vacation mentality where she got to pretend to be a cocktail waitress and do things she’d otherwise never have considered.
But she wasn’t a cocktail waitress or on vacation, and if she wanted to rebel against her mother, she’d buy some more things from The Clothes Garden. She was here to do a job, and she couldn’t let anything jeopardize that. She got out of bed and hurriedly dressed. She was going to make it clear to Ben she wasn’t interested in being one of his conquests, just his partner in finding Max’s murderer.
When she got to the dining room, Cecilia was alone there eating a blueberry scone. She had her dark hair in a ponytail, emphasizing her classically beautiful features.
“Has Ben already left?” Lexie asked.
Cecilia nodded. “His pickup was gone when I came down. I want to apologize for my brother. I’m sorry he ruined last night for you two.”
“He didn’t,” Lexie said, probably more vehemently than she should have.
Cecilia grinned. “Good. I’m glad you and Ben had a chance to finish what you started at the street dance.”
Lexie felt her cheeks heating. “Did you have fun?”
“Actually I did,” Cecilia said. “But now I have a big problem. Peter asked me to dinner tonight. I couldn’t think of a good reason to turn him down, so I said yes.”
Lexie filled a coffee cup, then sat down at the table. “Don’t you like him?”
“It’s not that.” Cecilia’s features tightened. “He’s a doctor and trained in Chicago, but came back here a couple of years ago to take over his dad’s practice. He’s committed to staying in Lakeview, and I’d die in a small town like this.”
“You’re just going on one date.”
“I don’t work that way,” Cecilia said, waving her half-eaten scone. “Every date I’ve had since I turned eighteen has been with a man I’m hoping to marry. I can’t be like you and date a guy when I know nothing will come of it.”
If Ben had encouraged Peter to meet Cecilia, he must think Peter would be good for her in at least the short term. It was worth trying to convince her to give him a shot. “I’ll bet the reason you’ve only dated men you considered marriage material is because you thought you needed a man to support you financially,” Lexie said. “Now that you don’t, you can date for fun, lots of different guys, since your only concern is whether you’re having a good enough time for a next date.”
“I never thought of it that way.”
“Try going out on a casual date. If you don’t like dating for fun, you can always go back to being serious.”
Cecilia nodded but looked even tenser. “Except I told Peter I was divorced.” She set her scone on her plate.
“That obviously isn’t a problem for him.”
“He thinks I only meant once. He doesn’t know I’ve been divorced three times.”
Lexie’s forehead creased. “How could he not know, the way gossip travels around here?”
“I’ve never lived here, so no one knows that much about me. Just Ben, Grandfather, and Aunt Muriel, and none of them gossips. At least not about family.”
“Has Peter ever been married?”
Cecilia shook her head. “Although he lived with a woman for a couple of years.”
“So he understands that sometimes serious relationships don’t work out.”
“Three times?”
“Go out tonight and see what happens,” Lexie said. “If he’s a doctor, he might have a God complex like my ex, and you’ll decide you never want to see him again.”
“Then I won’t have to care what he thinks,” Cecilia said, her expression relaxing. “I wish you and Ben did have something serious going on. Not just because I think you’re good for him, but because I’d like it if you were part of our family. I’ll miss you when we leave Nevermore.”
“I’ll miss you, too.” That was true, although she had a feeling Cecilia wouldn’t feel the same once she found out why Lexie was really at Nevermore. “We can still keep in touch even if I’m no longer with Ben.”
“I’d like that,” Cecilia said. She got to her feet. “Thanks for the advice.”
“Any time,” Lexie said. Like she was in a position to give advice on relationships. Not with one humiliating divorce under her belt and a major case of lust for a man who gave new meaning to the word “inappropriate,” even if it was simply a form of rebellion.
Cecilia had only been gone a minute when Jeremy waltzed into the dining room.
“Just the woman I was looking for,” he said. “It’s a beautiful day for boating, and I don’t feel like going alone. Come with me.”
“I didn’t finish my paper,” Lexie said, thankful she had the excuse ready.
“Work on it this morning. We’ll go out this afternoon.” He took her hand and looked down at her, his dark eyes smoldering. “I promise you’ll love it.”
Her brain told her Jeremy was one of the sexiest men she’d met in ages. Despite that, her heart rate didn’t accelerate, her temperature didn’t spike, and her stomach didn’t flit, let alone flutter. Then again, her mother would probably approve of Jeremy.
Lexie still had no desire to ride on a speedboat, but riding in the open water was a lot safer than on a motorcycle. Ben hadn’t gotten any information about Jeremy’s finances—probably because he was afraid he’d learn Jeremy didn’t have a motive. Knowing Ben, he’d use that failure as an excuse to delay hiring a P.I. And she needed to hire one and get back to Philadelphia ASAP, before her rebelling hormones made her do something she regretted.
“What time do we leave?”
# # #
At just after noon, the air was warm, the sky cloudless and magnificently blue, the bright sun making Lake Superior glitter like a multifaceted sapphire. According to the marina owner, days like this were why residents were willing put up with nearly six months of winter.
Lexie would have given anything for some threatening gray clouds and an approaching thunderstorm. Because at the moment she was staring at the largest powerboat at the Lakeview Marina, her heart in her throat. From its pointed nose, sleek body, racing stripes, and the fact it was called “Lightning,” she could guarantee this one wasn’t big because it was a slow family vehicle.
“Isn’t she a beauty?” Jeremy handed her a life jacket. “You’re in for a treat. This baby can do over a hundred.”
Lexie swallowed hard. “Miles per hour?”
“Yep. Like I said, you’ll love it.”
Wrong. At least motorcycles had to comply with posted speed limits. Sure, she could swim and would be wearing a life jacket, but she’d read about people being paralyzed and even killed by the force of hitting the water after being thrown from a boat going too damn fast. Lake Superior also was cold, so cold that dead bodies sank in it. Even if she didn’t drown, she could die of hypothermia and be on the lake bottom with the shipwrecks before anyone missed her.
She opened her mouth to tell Jeremy she’d changed her mind, and then closed it. She had
a job to finish, and this could be her best chance to talk to him and rule him in or out as a suspect. She put on her life jacket, then carefully got into the tippy boat and positioned herself on the padded seat beside his.
She closed her eyes, taking theoretically relaxing breaths as Jeremy fiddled with a couple of things. Even with the rhythmic waves as a calming background, her heart was still pummeling her chest and stomach when he started the engine. “Here we go.”
Lexie opened her eyes and gripped the side of the boat as he steered through the sailboats and smaller powerboats surrounding them. When they’d cleared the harbor, he sped up, as did Lexie’s breathing. A glance at the speedometer showed they hadn’t even hit thirty, and her knuckles were already as white as the boat.
It was going to be a very long afternoon.
# # #
“Thanks for taking me out,” Lexie said as she and Jeremy walked from his car to Nevermore late that afternoon. “I had a great time.”
To her surprise, that was true. She’d eventually stopped hyperventilating long enough to realize that Jeremy was a safe and skilled driver, the boat was built to be stable at high speeds, and there wasn’t much other traffic to run into. Once she’d gotten to that point, she’d stopped being scared and started appreciating being out on the water on such a beautiful day.
Actually, she hadn’t just stopped being scared—she’d started to love going fast, feeling the wind against her cheeks and the fresh air cleansing her lungs. The boat sliced the water so smoothly they could have been flying above it. When Jeremy had let her drive, she’d had it over sixty before she’d realized it.
“We’ll go out again tomorrow, and you can do more driving,” Jeremy said. “I didn’t know you were such a speed demon.”
“Neither did I. I’ll try to control myself.”
He took her hand and grinned at her. “Please don’t. I like women when they’re out of control.”
“Lexie. I’ve been looking for you.”