by Addison Fox
“I’m sorry?”
“Never mind. So you’re the dreamy detective. Violet and Cassidy can’t stop talking about you.”
Not Lilah? Forcing the thought aside, Reed decided to let the comment play out. “Oh.”
“They’ve been very impressed with your help and, I believe Violet said it, ‘your God-given patience to deal with the lot of us.’”
“They’ve had a bad scare.”
“One that’s not over.”
The buoyancy that had carried her into the kitchen—even in the midst of a heated family conversation—vanished at her words. Reed saw her conviction as clearly as he saw the exotic beauty that painted her face and shaped her long, lithe body.
And in that moment he suspected people sorely underestimated Gabriella Sanchez.
Before he could say anything, Lilah marched through the door with the now-empty tray of cream puffs. Reed was surprised at the depth of disappointment that gripped him at the evidence the pastries were gone.
“Gab. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry. I had to take that. It was my mother’s fifth call this afternoon and I was starting to worry something was really wrong.”
Reed didn’t miss Lilah’s penetrating gaze as she took in the sight of the two of them alone in the kitchen, but her comment was casual when she spoke. “Amanda was wrapped up in the discussion of her dress with Cassidy, and Quinn had excused himself to take a work call. No one noticed.”
When Gabriella didn’t offer up anything else, Lilah added, “Is everything okay?”
“Same old same old with my mother.”
“Who’s getting married?”
“My cousin Marcie.”
“Sorry.”
Gabby shrugged, those thick curls bouncing lightly against her back. “She’s been dating the guy forever. We all knew it was coming.”
With a quick hug for Lilah, Gabriella turned toward him and gave him an impulsive hug. “They’re lucky to have you, Detective Yummy.”
“Thanks.”
The woman moved out of the kitchen as fast as she’d come in, and it took Reed an extra moment to realize Lilah had already picked up her empty plate and crossed to the large, stainless-steel sink on the far side of the room. “Did it go well?”
“Fine. They’re excited.”
“And hungry, obviously.” Reed moved up next to her. “The desserts are gone.”
“They’re the groom’s favorites. I’m doing about forty dozen for the wedding.”
“You’re doing four hundred and eighty cream puffs for a wedding?” The words were spoken to her back as she moved toward her long counter to pick up her abandoned mixing bowls from earlier.
“There are nearly four hundred people invited to the wedding. You can count on people to take seconds and, besides—” she shrugged “—that’s how many they want.”
The number boggled his mind. “How do you package that many?”
The dark cloud that had seemed to settle over her never wavered, even as a puzzled look stole over her face. “This is what I do. I’ve got large cardboard boxes we’ll put together for the event. I’ll layer them with parchment paper and then transport the pastries in my truck along with the cake for the wedding.”
Reed realized he had no idea what went into a wedding and his always-curious mind was already thinking through the implications of how someone made that much food. “It’s impressive.”
“You want impressive, you should go see Gab’s setup. She’s the one who has to feed four hundred people an entire meal.”
“That’s what she does? Food? I didn’t realize you had a fourth partner.”
“I don’t. I mean, we don’t. But we’ve been working with Gabby for a few years now. A few odd jobs here and there and now it’s become more consistent. She can’t get into the big hotels because they want to cater on their own, but there are a ton of venues in North Texas that want wedding revenue but don’t necessarily want to manage all the catering themselves.”
“Where’s this wedding?”
“The Arboretum in October.”
Reed thought of the endlessly beautiful acres at Dallas’s botanical gardens, particularly gorgeous in fall. He let out a long, low whistle. “That must be costing them a pretty penny.”
When she said nothing, he added, “The height of wedding season at one of the city’s best venues. And with four hundred people? I’d say a small fortune, more like.”
“Weddings are expensive. And. Well.” She shrugged again. “They appear to have the money for it.”
She busied herself with the dishes and Reed found himself amused at her complete freeze-out. “You’re busy.”
“We’re always busy.” She scrubbed the mixing bowl of crusted cream. “And we lost nearly a week dealing with the break-in and—”
“And the attack on Cassidy.” He kept his words gentle, but he pushed all the same.
He didn’t want her scared—far from it—but he knew in his gut whatever had landed in their laps was far from over. Becoming complacent was the worst that could happen.
“Robert’s gone now.”
“But the person who shot him isn’t.”
She continued scrubbing and only offered up a light shrug of her shoulders. “That’s why you’re here.”
“And you’re running around in your damn underwear, letting anyone and everyone inside your shop.”
Her hands stilled on the dishes, her eyes going wide. He still only saw her profile, but even from that angle he could see her dark brown eyes were wide orbs in her face.
That shock was nothing compared to his own surprise at the harsh words that had spilled from his lips, catching him unaware.
“You have no right.”
“I have every right. I’m trying to keep you and your partners safe and you’re not taking this seriously.”
“Seriously?” She snapped the water off with a hard twist and grabbed a towel to dry her hands. “I’m not the one back here making eyes at our caterer.”
“What?”
Lilah whirled, the irritation in her voice punctuating the gesture. “You heard me. I realize she’s an attractive woman, but you couldn’t wait to flirt all over Gabby.”
Whatever self-righteous anger had carried him this far faded in the face of her resentment.
And a sudden awareness of just why she was upset.
“I wasn’t flirting with your caterer. I can’t say the same for her.”
“Just because she looks like a supermodel doesn’t mean she deserves to be objectified.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
Her mouth was already open to keep on arguing when she snapped it closed at his agreement.
Without checking the impulse, Reed leaned in, delighted when those dark eyes went wide and round once more. “But I don’t think that’s why you’re upset.”
“It’s anger for my friend.”
“Oh, really.” He took a moment to just breathe her in, the light scent of sugar that hovered around her simply intoxicating.
“Of course.”
He pressed a light kiss to her cheek before dropping another along the line of her jaw. “It wouldn’t be jealousy?”
Whatever initial acceptance she might have had in the moment vanished. “It’s most certainly not that. And why don’t you ratchet down that swelled head while you’re at it?”
Reed couldn’t stop the smile, especially now that he was virtually high on the scents of vanilla and warm sugar, coupled with the cream puffs that were still humming in his veins.
Could sugar really make someone reckless?
“I wasn’t the one who called myself Detective Yummy.”
“That was—” She broke off. “Gabby was just being funny.�
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“Consider me amused.”
Awareness filled her dark gaze and in that moment Reed felt something shift deep inside of him. He knew what it was to want—to need—but the look in Lilah Castle’s eyes was something more.
In her gaze he saw the desperate craving of someone who knew what they wanted yet were afraid to let go.
On sheer instinct, he closed the distance once more and dragged her small, slight frame against his own. At the actual feel of her—muscle, sinew and bone under his hands—he realized his initial estimation was spot-on.
She was a pixie.
As his lips came over hers, her head already tilted up to meet him, he amended that thought. She might be small—a mere slip in his hands—but she had a woman’s curves and a woman’s needs.
The instinct that pushed him on was greeted with full acceptance and he groaned as she opened her mouth, an invitation to deepen the kiss.
The moment was hot—desperate—and he took full advantage.
Heat radiated off her, through the thin material of her sweater. One of his hands was large enough to cover nearly the entire span of her back while the other drifted down toward her derriere, pulling her close.
Her hands gripped his waist, her fingers restless at the waistband of his slacks, and he saw a wash of stars when her stomach bumped hard against his groin.
What had begun as impulse—and a deep need to finally taste her—had turned on him, and Reed felt himself fast losing control. With one last rush of teeth and lips and tongue, he took advantage of the moment and deepened the kiss, lingering over her luscious mouth with satisfying urgency.
Then he pulled away and added a few steps of distance for good measure. As he took in the passion-glazed gaze and soft color high on her cheeks, Reed came to a startling realization.
He was wrong.
Her cream puffs weren’t the best thing he’d ever tasted. Lilah Castle was.
Chapter 5
Lilah was still trying to make sense of the whirling storm in her mind when Reed ended the kiss and stepped away from her. Her normal twin shields of humor and sarcasm had deserted her and she was left staring at the man like a gaping fish.
She knew the gaping-fish look. She’d seen it one night when she helped Gabby filet a last-minute request of four dozen Dover sole and she knew it wasn’t pretty.
So she clamped her mouth shut.
As soon as she managed to get a few breaths back.
Damn, but the man could kiss. And no matter how desperately that irritated her, stuffing her brains back into her ears had to be her first priority.
As she righted the waistband of her sweater set—and holy cow, the cashmere was now hotter than her ovens—Lilah took a moment to scan Reed’s face.
And took a small measure of solace that he looked as shell-shocked as she felt. The cocky grin he’d sported as he’d teased her about being jealous of Gabby had faded, replaced with a serious look that she didn’t quite know how to take.
Shielding up, Lilah smoothed the sweater once more and fought the unseemly urge to wipe the light sweat on her lower back. “Why are you here, Detective?”
“I had lunch with my mother.”
The comment about his mother stymied her and whatever hardball she was winding up faded at the sweet, gooey bubble that opened up in her chest. “How nice?”
“It was nice, but that’s not why I bring it up.”
Lilah waited, not trusting herself to say anything further.
“My mother has a unique perspective on Dallas society.” He reached for the dishrag and began drying the items she’d already set on the drying board earlier.
“How so?”
“She was a decorator to the city’s elite when I was a kid and then married one of those elite customers when he had his home redone after he divorced.”
Reed handed her one of the heavy mixing bowls she’d used earlier and she took it, not sure what else to do with it. Or him.
“So she’s seen both sides of the fence, as it were.”
“Exactly. I figured she might have some insight into this case. Who runs with who. What others say about them. She doesn’t do a lot of decorating any longer, but she keeps her ear to the ground with her charity groups.”
“Wait—” Lilah turned from the open cabinet where she was busy stowing the bowl. “Is your mother Diana G.?”
Reed winked. “Her street name.”
Before she could stop it, a hard giggle spilled from her lips at the image of his small, petite, elegant mother with a “street name.”
“I met her several months ago at a function. She’s lovely. And, as I remember, she put the event caterer squarely in her place for serving day-old bread for the sandwiches.”
He waved a couple of now-dry mixing paddles in his hand. “The horror.”
“She was lovely to me, though. I only just put the name together because everyone called her Diana G., but her name on the event program was Diana Graystone Lange.”
“Of course she was lovely to you. I’m quite sure you don’t use day-old anything.”
Echoing his words, she laid one hand on her breast, extending her other for the paddles. “The horror.”
The tense moments—both pre-and post-kiss—had vanished as they worked in companionable silence.
“What did she tell you?”
“I filled her in on the case and told her about the rubies.”
A small shot of panic filled her at the knowledge yet another person knew about the jewels, but Lilah pushed it aside. Quite a few people—bad people—knew about the gems that had lain buried beneath the floor of her business. Putting a few good guys on their side who might be able to help could only work in their favor.
As if sensing her indecision, Reed added, “She’s a vault, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
“I believe it. I’m quite sure she’s forgotten more gossip about Dallas’s elite than any of us even know.”
“You’d be surprised how quickly she can conjure it up, though.” Reed picked up the last item on the drying rack. “She wants to see them. The rubies.”
“Who wouldn’t?”
“I also asked her about Steven DeWinter.”
Lilah stilled at that, the comfortable camaraderie fading at Steven’s name. “Steven’s a discreet person who prefers to keep his humiliation private. I’m sure she hasn’t heard much.”
“On the contrary.”
She looked up at him, not surprised to see his gaze squarely on hers. His eyes were all cop. Dark gray storm clouds, swirling with energy and life and a driving need to bring justice.
From what she knew about Reed Graystone, she suspected he wore that look often. She’d done a bit of information gathering of her own after he’d taken on their case. Although the Dallas PD kept information about their staff on pretty tight lockdown, there were a few articles mentioning him.
Several acts of bravery while he was still in uniform and a particularly difficult human-trafficking case two years prior that he’d broken wide-open. The case had gained national attention and the department had awarded him several accolades for the work.
She’d been filled with a strange shot of pride reading the articles and had spent far more time than she’d realized before she’d shut down the search program in a rush. Confirmation she, Cassidy and Violet had a strong detective on their case was one thing. Dreaming about his accomplishments was another.
“You don’t seem curious about what my mother knows.”
The mention of Steven threw a bucket of ice on her thoughts and brought her firmly into the present. “My curiosity about Steven DeWinter ended a long time ago.”
Lilah knew the words to be true, but curiosity and preparation were two different things. While she’d had no int
erest in the restaurants he opened or the events around town where he was photographed, she’d made it her business to keep a close eye on the man’s comings and goings.
She paid attention to the events he was scheduled for so she could steer clear of any catering requests, and she kept a close watch on any public appearances he was planning around town. And she knew full well that Violet paid attention to the guest lists of the weddings they covered to avoid any inadvertent interactions.
Vi denied it, but Lilah knew her best friend’s MO and she was more than grateful for the interference.
“Humor me, then. Forget curiosity and call it basic detective work. I went to my mother because dealing with those who run in the elite circles of our fair city isn’t always found in files or case records.”
Lilah held back the harsh laugh, even as she knew that simple point to be more than evident. Steven hadn’t been on anyone’s radar. Clearly, Robert Barrington hadn’t been, either. Yet here they were, with the overwhelming reality that Robert had played fast and loose with the law.
And the increasing suspicion that Steven either knew what Robert was involved in or had been the conduit to Robert’s introduction into the criminal underworld.
“While I appreciate you keeping us informed, what do you want me to do about it? I’ve had no contact with the man for over five years.”
“No, but you did live in his world. Look. I understand this is painful. But if you’d talk to my mother, walk her through what you know and see if the two of you can jingle any bells, that’d be helpful.”
Before she could even muster up an argument, Reed pressed on. “Besides. She’s only going to nag at me until I show her one of the jewels anyway. Since you’re so determined to carry one around in your shoe, we can kill two birds with one stone.”
Lilah wanted to say no. Really, she did. The thought of revisiting any of her time with Steven left a dull coating of nausea lining her stomach.
But she wanted some answers even more.
“Let me go change.”
“You look fine.”