“Still. I helped, remember?”
“How could you do this? Archer, this is my car!”
“That I bought you, so really …”
She shrieked and went from slapping to full on punching.
“You promised!” she started yelling. “You promised, no more drug bullshit!”
“Jo,” he laughed, grabbing for her wrists.
“No more danger! Remember that!? You dickfuck!”
“Dickfuck? Is that even a word?”
“What is wrong with you!?”
“Jo,” he stressed her name as he finally got a hold of her flailing limbs. “Stop. Just hear me out.”
“Hear you out? Oh, okay. Yes, please, tell me how your murdered this dude and stashed him in my trunk, AGAIN!” she shouted. There were several other groups of people at the lookout, and all of them turned to stare at the crazy screaming lady.
“Chill out!” he shouted back, then he abruptly let her go and reached into the trunk.
“What are you doing?” she asked, then gasped as he grabbed the edge of the blanket and started pulling “Don’t do that! I don’t want to see what …” Her voice trailed off as the blanket unfurled, revealing its horrifying contents.
Pillows. Several pillows, arranged side to side. There was also a bottle of champagne, two mugs, and underneath it all, a pizza box.
“Seriously, Jo. Calm – you need to look the word up. Can you imagine if I had lost my shit when you showed me a body in your trunk? Not cool,” he sighed, shaking his head back and forth. She glared and elbowed him in the stomach.
“What the fuck is all this? A joke?” she demanded.
“Yeah. Pretty funny, right?”
“Wrong. Not funny. Not funny at all.”
“Oh. Too soon?”
“Yes, Archer. Too soon.”
He laughed at her and bent into the trunk. A couple pushes and the pull of a lever later and the backseats were folded down. He arranged the blanket so it covered the bottom of the car, then he pushed the pillows back before climbing into the vehicle.
“What are you doing?” Jo asked. He fumbled around for a minute – he was such a big guy, he didn’t fit at all. Even with his head resting on the back of the seats, his legs still stuck outside. He moved the pizza box so it was resting sideways next to him, then he gestured for her to join him.
“C’mon. It’s a picnic,” he said.
“Are you joking?”
“Get your ass in the car, Jo.”
She frowned, but she did it. She gingerly crawled over the lip of the trunk and ducked as she moved further into the vehicle. It was awkward twisting and rolling around, but eventually she was laying down next to him. He smiled and put his hands behind his head.
“You know,” she sighed, staring out at the clear blue sky. “This isn’t so bad.”
“Right?”
“But the joke wasn’t. You ever do that again, and I’ll mace you.”
“Fair enough.”
He popped the cork on the champagne and managed to pour some into the mugs. He handed her one and they sipped at the bubbly in silence for a couple minutes.
“This was your idea?” she asked after she’d finished her champagne and had set the cup aside. She turned onto her side and moved so she was resting her head on his bicep.
“Yeah,” he replied, moving his legs around so he could kick off his shoes. They landed inside the trunk with a heavy thump.
“What brought all this on?”
“I told you, your boobs.”
“Archer. Please. Be serious, just this once?” she asked, laying her hand flat on his stomach and brushing it back and forth. She could feel his abs jump and constrict under her fingers.
“I don’t know,” he finally answered. “I just … like I said, I wanted to say thank you. It may have had a really fucked up start, but this has been the best six months of my life. I honestly wouldn’t change a thing that happened, because it all brought me closer to you.”
“Awww, Archer,” she sighed, curling her fingers and clutching at his t-shirt. “That’s really sweet.”
“You’ve always been the best part of my life. Now I get to say it out loud and show you.”
“All thanks to a dead body in a trunk,” she chuckled, gently pulling his t-shirt up his body.
“Yeah, good ol’ Bernie. A hell of a weekend, huh?”
“Yeah. Archer?”
“Hmmm?”
“Stop talking now.”
As she scratched her nails across his bare skin, he leaned down and kissed her hard. She would never get tired of the sensation. Archer touching her, kissing her. Turning her body into putty and setting it on fire. Giving her everything she never knew she was missing. She gasped into his mouth and wrapped her legs around one of his, seeking movement and friction.
“As much as I love this side of you,” he panted, one his hands moving under the back of her shirt. “I have to give a warning – you’re perilously close to getting fucked in public.”
“Perilously close, huh,” she breathed, then she shimmied out of her shirt. He groaned and one his hands immediately went to her breasts. “That just won’t do.”
“Goddamn, I am so in love with you,” he chuckled before biting into her bottom lip. She sucked air through her teeth and pulled away.
“Not as much as I am with you. How long will the drive home take?” she asked, reaching down and tugging at his belt.
“Too long. Good thing I planned for this,” he said, and she watched as he lifted his leg, struggling to use his toes to catch the strap that hung down from the trunk lid.
“You did?” she asked, then she laughed as he got hold of the strap and started pulling down the lid.
“Of course. Most people have a picnic on the grass, Jo. Why the fuck do you think I laid it out in the trunk?” he asked.
“Sick sense of humor?” she guessed.
“Well … yeah, that too,” he replied, and with one final jerk of his leg, the trunk slammed shut.
Saturday morning in Los Angeles in July. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and everything seemed right with the world. Anyone who came to Universal City Overlook that day and saw the classic 1970 Chevelle SS parked there wouldn’t have thought anything was strange about it.
They certainly never would’ve guessed there were two bodies in the trunk, doing their best to become one.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
A long, long, long, loooong time ago, Yaya at After Dark Book Lovers said to me “you should do a rom-com” – and I said that I’d never been able to. I would try to be funny, but it would always go angsty or dark or murdery. Turns out, I could keep the last two and just replace angst with funny, and boom, I’d have a book!
So thanks Yaya, for thinking I could do funny.
And then the premise. A little over a year ago, my friend Beatriz was lamenting over a package that had been left in her trunk and she’d forgotten all about it until she’d had to put something else in her trunk. I don’t know how one thing led to the next, but suddenly we were laughing about how you never know what’s back there, you could open it one day and find a dead body! And then she laughed that it would make for an interesting story, and I took that as sort of a challenge, so I banged out the first chapter.
So thank you, Bea, for finding weird and morbid shit as funny as I do.
After that first chapter, the story sat for about eight months without me touching it. I don’t know what drew me back to it exactly. I wanted to work on something light after all the angst that was the Twin Estates books. I also wanted to work on something more ME, if that makes sense. So I was going through old files on my laptop, and one labeled “TRUNK” jumped out at me, so I opened it up.
And here we are!
I’ve gotten a few reviews commenting on my characters’ banter, the back and forth that’s very prevalent with Jameson and Tate, or Marc and Lily. Even Sanders gets in some good quips. So I really let it go with this story, I put the thro
ttle down on the banter. I just decided I was going to have a lot of goofy fun with this weird story, and I went to town.
Lots of thanks to be given, as always. Ratula, thanks for the laughter and calming me down and winding me up and always making me feel like I’m doing the right thing – even when the “right thing” is me watching Archer in my pajamas as two in the afternoon. You always lift, never put down, and I am eternally grateful for you … even though you say “cabinets”.
To my beta readers, the new ones that were added just for this story, and the old ones who’ve been with me since the Kane days – I couldn’t do this without all of you: Andrea, Angie, Christy, Deanna, Jennifer G., Jennifer P., Nanci, Pam, Rebecca, Terilyn, and Vernalee. All your notes and critiques really made this story the best if could be.
Najla Qamber for always “getting me” and turning my crazy ideas into fun, perfect covers. Stacey Blake for making the insides of my paperbacks just as pretty as the outsides. Barbara Hoover for reading everything and putting red lines under it all and teaching me how to make my messenger work correctly. All the ladies at Give Me Books for dealing with my tour shenanigans and my inability to do anything ahead of schedule or even on time.
Speaking of poor scheduling, BIG thanks to Liz Milner – I forgot to make an appointment for this book’s cover, so when I finally did, I wasn’t able to get matching teasers made in time for Teaser Tuesdays. When I reached out to Liz, she stepped up to the plate and took time out of her life to read my book and make some amazing, really wonderful teasers.
Thanks to all the bloggers everywhere for doing what you do, for keeping on trucking despite Facebook hiding views and Amazon changing its rules. For reading because you love to read, and you love to support authors. There aren’t enough ways to say thank you to all of you.
And of course, to the readers. It has been an insane year for me, and I wouldn’t get to do what I love best in this world if it wasn’t for all of you. Thank you for understanding me and taking a risk on my weird brain and being patient with me and diving into these different adventures with me. I don’t make it easy for you – the genre I write in today is not the genre I’ll write in tomorrow, yet a lot of you stick with me. You never discourage me, you always encourage, and that’s a rarity in this industry. I often say that I’m blessed (not in the annoying way, I promise), and I am because I’ve found all of you.
And to fucked up movies like Weekend at Bernie’s, and The Hangover, and Go, and Run Lola Run, and Howard the Duck, Super Troopers, Shaun of the Dead, Jawbreaker, and John Dies at the End. Some are cutting edge, some are grossly inappropriate, some are bitingly hilarious. All are awesome, and if you haven’t watched them, ou know have a very important list to make!
And last, but never least, Mr. F – thank you for watching all those movies with me, over and over, even though you don’t like re-watching. Thanks for all the adventures we’ve had, and the ones to come. And most importantly – thanks for being the kind of husband who would bury a body for me, no questions asked.
SOUNDTRACK
Songs that I listened to while writing, songs that made me think of the story, and a couple that inspired actual scenes.
● Len – Steal My Sunshine
● Lit – My Own Worst Enemy
● Green Day – Welcome to Paradise
● Scissor Sisters – Filthy/Gorgeous
● Scooter – I’m Raving
● Sugarcult – Los Angeles
● David Banner – Play
● Sheryl Crow – Steve McQueen
● Dakota Fanning – California Paradise
● DJ Snake ft. Justin Bieber – Let Me Love You
● No Doubt – New
MORE FROM THE AUTHOR
STANDALONES
My Time in the Affair
The Bad Ones
THE KANE TRILOGY
Degradation
Separation
Reparation
Completion
THE MERCENARIES
Best Laid Plans
Out of Plans
The Mercenaries: Boxset
TWIN ESTATES NOVELS
Neighbors
The Neighborhood
The Kane Trilogy Excerpt
DEGRADATION
Available Now
Tatum plucked at her shirt in a nervous manner. She had tucked it into a tight pencil skirt and even put on a pair of sling back stilettos. If someone had personally requested her, she wanted to make an effort to look nice. She had blown out her hair and put curls in the ends, and toned down her make up. Even she had to admit it, she looked presentable.
For once.
Men in expensive business suits began to file into the conference room and she stood still, giving a polite smile to everyone who entered. A team of lawyers was meeting with their client. Six chairs were lined up on one side of a long table, with just a single chair on the other side.
Tate had been positioned at the back of the room, next to a sideboard filled with goodies and coffee and water. She fussed about, straightening napkins and setting up the glasses. When all six chairs were filled on the one side, she stared at their backs, wondering who the big shot was that got to stare them all down. The person who would be facing her. A door at the back of the room swung open and her breath caught in her threat.
Holy. Shit.
Jameson Kane strode into the room, only offering a curt smile to his lawyers. His eyes flashed to her for just a second, then he looked back. His smile became genuine and he tipped his head towards her, almost like a bow.
She gaped back at him, positive that her mouth was hanging open. What was he doing there!? Had he known she would be there? Had he been the one to request her? Impossible, he didn’t know what temp agency she worked for – but what would be the chances? She hadn’t seen him in seven years, and now twice in two days.
Tate felt like swallowing her tongue.
“Gentlemen,” Jameson began, seating himself across from the lawyers. “Thanks for meeting with me today. Would anyone care for any coffee? Water? The lovely Ms. O’Shea will be helping us today.” He gestured towards Tate, but no one turned around. Several people asked for coffee. Jameson asked for water, his smile still in place. It was almost a smirk. Like he knew something she didn’t.
She began to grind her teeth.
She delivered everyone’s drinks, then carried around a tray of snacks. No one took anything. She moved to the back of the room, refilled the water pitcher. Tidied up. Felt Jameson staring at her.
This is ridiculous. You’re Tatum O’Shea. You eat boys for breakfast.
But thinking that made her remember when he had said something very similar to her, and she felt a blush creep up her cheeks.
She was pretty much ignored the whole time. They all argued back and forth about what business decisions Jameson should, or shouldn’t, make. He was very keen on dismantling struggling companies and selling them off. They tried to curb his desires. His tax lawyer explained how his tax shelter in Hong Kong was doing. Another lawyer gave him a run down on property law in Switzerland. Tate tried to hide her yawns.
They took a five minute break after an hour had passed. Tate had her back to the room, rearranging some muffins on a tray, when she felt the hair on the back of her neck start to stand up. She turned around in slow motion, taking in Jameson as he walked up to her.
“Surprised?” he asked, smiling down at her.
“Very. Did you ask for me?” she questioned. He nodded.
“Yes. You ran away so quickly the other night. I wanted to get reacquainted,” he explained. She laughed.
“Maybe I didn’t,” she responded. He shrugged.
“That doesn’t really matter to me. What are you doing tonight?” he asked. She was a little caught off guard.
“Are you asking me out, Kane?” she blurted out. He threw back his head and laughed.
“Oh god, still a little girl. No. I don’t ask people out. I was asking what you were doing tonight,”
Jameson replied.
She willed away the blush she felt coming on. He still had the ability to make her feel so stupid. She had been through so much since him, come so far with her esteem and her life. It wasn’t fair that he could still make her feel so small. She wanted to return the favor. She cleared her throat.
“I’m working.”
“Where?”
“At a bar.”
“What bar?”
“A bar you don’t know.”
“And tomorrow night?”
“Busy.”
“And the night after that?”
“Every night after that,” Tate informed him, crossing her arms. He narrowed his eyes, but continued smiling.
“Surely you can find some time to meet up with an old friend,” he said. She shook her head.
“We were never friends, Kane,” she pointed out. He laughed.
“Then what is it? Are you scared of me? Scared I’ll eat you alive?” he asked. She stepped closer to him, refusing to be intimidated.
“I think you’re the one who should be scared. You don’t know me, Kane. You never did. And you never will,” she whispered. Jameson leaned down so his lips were almost against her ear.
“I know what you feel like from the inside. That’s good enough for me,” he whispered back. Tate stepped away. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. He did something to her insides.
“You, and a lot of other people. You’re not as big a deal as you think,” she taunted. It was a complete lie, but she had to get the upper hand back. He smirked at her.
“That sounds like a challenge to me. I have to defend my honor,” he warned her. She snorted.
“Whatever. Point to the challenger then, me. Defend away,” she responded, rolling her eyes.
He didn’t respond, just continued smirking down at her. The lawyers began filing back into the room and Jameson took his position on the other side of the table. She wasn’t really sure what their little spar had been about, or what had come out of it. She was just going to try to get through the rest of the conference, and then she would scurry away before he could talk to her again. She didn’t want anything to do with Jameson Kane, or his -,
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