Chasing Tail

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Chasing Tail Page 16

by Roxanne St Claire


  Her heart shifted a little, giving her a chance to revisit her memory of the boy and his swagger and realize that there was only a shadow of that left, but it was all she’d been seeing. “I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, thanks, but not your fault. When you lose your father at sixteen, it affects everything. The way to win, which is all he cared about for me, is to not let it wreck you.” He picked up his empty cup in a mock toast. “It hasn’t.”

  “But you’re still single.”

  He gave her a look. “What the hell does that have to do with my dad?”

  She lifted her brows and shrugged. “You tell me.”

  “Nah. My older brother’s still single, too, though I think we have different reasons.”

  “What are yours?” she asked, surprised at how much she wanted to know.

  “Why does it matter?”

  “Uh…because we’re engaged?”

  He gave an almost smile. “Fine.” He shifted in his seat, thinking, then looked at her to say, “I feel like that whole…serious relationship and marriage and family thing…is a game that I’m not sure I want to play.”

  “Getting married is a game?”

  “A gamble?” he suggested instead. “A risk I’m not sure I want to take? However you package it, I’m fine with things that last a few weeks or a month. But then…”

  “You get bored.”

  He held her gaze for a few heartbeats, intensifying the quiet intimacy of the moment. “That’s not it.”

  “What is it, then?”

  His lips curled up. “Pretty deep for five in the morning after a twenty-four-hour shift, Ear Girl.”

  She leaned in a little. “How else can I find out your deepest secrets?”

  His blue eyes flickered with surprise. “You want to know them? Why?”

  “My old boss used to say, ‘Information is power.’” She smiled. “Maybe I want a little power.”

  He inched closer, too, reaching over the little table to put his hand over hers. “You already have a lot of power. I spent twenty-two hours on a shift thinking about you.”

  Her heart flipped. “What about the other two?”

  “Out on calls, when I don’t think about anything but my job.”

  She couldn’t look away. The pull of his attention was too strong, and the heat curling through her was absolutely delicious. “And what exactly did you think about for twenty-two hours? How to debate me?”

  “If by ‘debate’ you mean ‘kiss you until you can’t breathe,’ yeah.”

  She had to fight not to shiver in front of him. “God, you’re good.”

  “I can be.” He took a slow breath and stood up, his broad shoulders rising and falling, his gaze unwavering. He stepped around the little table and reached for her, drawing her to her feet. “You know what would be a horrible waste?”

  She shook her head, vaguely aware of need rolling over her, powerful, dizzying, and real.

  “All that toothpaste you used so I would kiss you.”

  “You think that’s why I brushed my teeth.”

  “I know it.” He lowered his head and let his tongue graze her lower lip. “Mmm. Minty fresh.”

  She wanted to smile, but she wanted to kiss more. “No one’s watching us, Connor.”

  “I hope not.”

  “I mean…we don’t have to.”

  “Yeah. We do.” He pressed his lips against hers, pulling her in so she could feel every hard muscle and angle of his body. She tasted black coffee and tangy peppermint. And Connor. Hot tongue and sweet lips and warm, wet kisses.

  Arching into the kiss, she wrapped her hands around his neck, drawing him closer as he splayed his fingers over her back and cradled her in his arms.

  “C’mere,” he said gruffly, guiding her toward the open sofa bed. “Just let me kiss you.”

  She didn’t argue. How could she with her mouth attached to his, her fingers digging into his back, her body melting against him?

  He eased her onto the bed, half sitting, then falling back, kissing her throat and jaw as his big hands stroked her back and dipped over the curve of her rear end.

  “This is it,” he murmured into the kisses.

  “This is…” She felt her eyes widen as heat curled through her. “What?”

  “My fantasy. All freaking day.” He trailed his tongue along the line of her jaw and headed back to her mouth. “Twenty-four hours.”

  “Twenty-two,” she corrected into the kiss.

  “I lied. Even on calls.” He slid both his hands into her hair, finger-combing the messy, morning strands and moaning with pleasure. “I just wanted…this.”

  “Yeah.” She couldn’t lie. She’d been thinking an awful lot about it, too. “Yeah, nothing like…oh.” She gasped as he pulled her on top of him, the ridge of a massive erection shocking her. And all she wanted to do was…press against him.

  But Frank barked so loud it made them both freeze for a moment.

  “Pay attention to your own girl, Franko.” He coasted his hand from her hair to her shoulder, hovering over her breast as he held her gaze. “’Cause I’m really into mine.”

  But Frank barked again, more furiously, and Demi flew from wherever she was to the top of the kitchen cabinet, as she frequently did when someone was at the door.

  “Is someone here?” Sadie asked in a hushed whisper, trying to quell the quivering in her body.

  Very slowly, Connor sat up and inched her to the side, frowning in the dim light at Frank at the foot of the sofa bed, his ears pointed straight up, his green-gold eyes sharp and alert as he barked at them, but stared at the door.

  Connor held up his hand for her to stay where she was and then pushed off the bed, walking to the door with Frank, who stayed nearly glued to Connor. He might bark like a guard dog, but the poor guy was still not thrilled with strangers.

  Connor stood still at the door, cocking his head to listen. “I think I heard someone,” he mouthed to her. “Can I go out?”

  She nodded since there was no window on that side of the house, and no matter who was out there, they weren’t going to stay when a six-foot firefighter and his dog warned them off.

  He guided Frank in front of him, turning the deadbolt, then the knob, opening the door. Frank barked again, loud and a little bit frantic now, growling and pulling Connor forward.

  Sadie sat stone-still, staring, waiting, shivering from the shock of heat that had gone ice-cold, but not able to hear anything except the dog’s barking. Connor took him outside, letting him lead.

  “No one’s out here,” he called between barks. “But damn, Frank smells something. What is it, bud?”

  Sadie stood and ventured closer to the door, braced for anything as she took a slow, deep breath, inhaling the scent that Frank smelled.

  Braced for anything but that.

  “What do you smell, Frank?” Connor asked again.

  “Shalimar,” Sadie whispered. He smelled the sweet, sickly, spicy scent that would haunt Sadie for the rest of her life.

  Why in God’s name had Jane Sutherland been lurking outside Sadie’s front door?

  Chapter Fifteen

  Frank pulled, barked, stopped to sniff, and pulled some more, leading Connor into the garden, then down the path toward the street.

  “What is it, boy? What do you smell?”

  He slowed his trot, growled, and stayed so close to Connor that they almost both tripped. Together, they marched toward the white fence that enclosed the property, with Frank sniffing as they went, barking only occasionally.

  Pulling out his phone, Connor turned on the flashlight and aimed the beam at the street, right into a parked car that definitely hadn’t been there when he pulled up a while ago. He’d have noticed a pricey white Beemer on the streets of Bitter Bark.

  He hopped the fence, leaving Frank, who barked in a quick panic, and walked toward the car, flashing the light over the empty front and back seats.

  “Is it parked illegally, Officer?”

  He spun arou
nd at the woman’s voice, barely audible over Frank’s barks, shining the light right in her face.

  “I can move the car,” she added, using a hand to shield her eyes and face.

  He hardly heard the words, so he held up one hand toward the dog. “Frank!” He shouted the name. “Quiet!”

  Frank stopped barking and no doubt collapsed to the dirt in misery at that tone. But Connor had to concentrate on the woman in front of him. He lowered the light so he could still see her but not blind her.

  “Is it?” she asked. “Illegally parked?” She shook back some blond hair to reveal the tapered features of an angular face, her eyes hard to see behind dark-rimmed glasses. His first impression was…harsh. Brittle. Sharp. Though some might call her beautiful.

  “I’m not an officer,” he replied. “But you’re trespassing.”

  “On the street?” Even her voice, with a rasp and edge, sounded like it could cut things.

  “You were in that yard.”

  She glanced past him. “I was looking for Sadie Hartman.”

  “At six in the morning?”

  She didn’t answer, but pushed her glasses up as though getting a better look, then she smiled, which did little to soften her features. “Oh, you’re the other mayoral candidate. The one she’s acting like she’s engaged to.” She nodded as if she were putting puzzle pieces together. “And that’s the mayor dog.”

  Her oddly distinct voice had an air of condescension in it, and amusement, and vague familiarity. “Do I know you?”

  She shook her head. “No. And you probably don’t want to if you’re friends with Sadie. But I wanted to talk to her.”

  “At six in the morning.” he repeated, with emphasis.

  “I had to leave DC late last night and I just got here.”

  DC…oh. He suddenly knew why she looked vaguely familiar, though he didn’t think he’d ever seen a picture of the congresswoman wearing glasses. This was the boss who banged Sadie’s boyfriend. He recognized the fine blond hair, the strong cheekbones, and well-defined jaw, and the voice he’d heard give a speech on YouTube the other day.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  She gave a tight smile. “So she told you.”

  “We’re engaged,” he said, letting a little wryness into the words.

  She rolled her eyes with a look to the sky. “I can’t imagine that’ll work, but Sadie is nothing if not creative. Leave it to her to think outside the box when there’s a campaign roadblock.”

  He didn’t bother to claim credit for the idea. Instead, he shifted to a wider stance, feeling as protective as Frank when it came to this woman…who was not getting one inch closer to Sadie.

  “Can I help you with something?” he asked, making no effort to warm up to the lady he disliked on sight and on principle.

  “I wanted to ask her a question.” She glanced beyond him at the dog and the house. “But I guess she’s still upset with me.”

  Still upset? He opened his mouth to reply, but the woman’s whole expression suddenly changed into something warmer, softer, and slightly more real.

  “There you are,” she said with an almost maternal coo. “Sadie.”

  He turned to see Sadie had emerged, standing next to Frank, a hand on his head, a sweatshirt pulled on over the tank top. “How the hell did you find me, Jane?”

  “Honey, your name’s all over some silly story about running for mayor. A quick Google search would tell anyone in the free world how to find you.” She took a few steps closer, but Connor blocked her.

  “At this house?” Sadie asked.

  “Listed as a second emergency contact in your employee file,” Jane said with lightning speed, as though expecting the question.

  “You’re not welcome. Is that clear enough?”

  Whoa. He’d heard Sadie when she was serious and seriously pissed, but he’d never been on the receiving end of that much ice.

  Jane let out a noisy sigh and came closer, tucking shaky hands in her jacket pocket. “I get that, Sadie,” she said. “I really do. If it’s any consolation, everything is…over. And I’ll do anything, absolutely anything, to make it up to you and have you come back.”

  Sadie sucked in a breath, then let it out with a laugh. “You think I’d trust you again?”

  “No,” the woman said simply. “But for the record, I acknowledge that I made a terrible mistake, and I’m asking for your forgiveness.”

  Sadie stared at her, silent.

  “Okay, then.” She took her hands out again, wringing them as if she were trying to calm herself. “I hurt and betrayed you, Sadie. Can we talk about it? Can I come in?”

  Sadie’s gaze stayed locked on her former boss. “No,” she said simply.

  “Sadie, please, listen to me. I know how you feel, but I am so, so sorry. You really don’t understand, though.”

  “Oh, I understand.” Sadie’s voice was sharp.

  “The whole thing was…foolish and…and a mistake. Nathan’s bereft that you’re gone.”

  “Please, Jane,” Sadie said softly. “Leave now.”

  Jane swallowed. “Okay. Well, good luck with your mayoral campaign. Believe it or not, I’d be proud to offer up my endorsement or campaign for you.”

  Sadie snorted. “Thanks, but I got this.”

  “I’m sure you do.” She turned to Connor and let her gaze drag up and down him, a little too long and uncomfortable for him.

  “Goodbye,” he said pointedly.

  She leaned in to whisper, “She’s not over him yet, and I think they could still work this out someday. He still loves her, and God, Nathan Lawrence was her whole world, and she will never, ever love another man like she loved him.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because information is power, my friend.”

  Yes, he’d just heard that from Sadie. “What do I need power for?”

  “So you win that campaign.”

  “Why would you be on my side?”

  She raised her brows as if the answer were obvious. “Because if she loses, she’ll come back to Washington, and I need her. I need her back on my staff because I’m…dying.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Without her,” she added. “I’m dying without her.” With that, she pivoted to her car, got in, started the engine, and drove away without glancing back at them.

  He watched the taillights for a moment, frozen at the force of her presence, breathing in the lingering scent of perfume that reminded him of a schoolteacher he never liked. He turned slowly, almost afraid to know if Sadie had heard any of that last exchange.

  But she was gone, already almost back inside, with Frank.

  He followed, using the gate instead of jumping the fence, heading back to the front door that she’d left open for him.

  “Well, that was weird,” he said as he stepped inside.

  She was on the bed, with Demi in her arms and Frank sitting at attention at her feet, panting at the cat. “Yeah.”

  “Are you okay?”

  She shrugged and stroked the cat’s head. “Frank came with me,” she said. “Isn’t that progress?”

  Something in her voice sounded broken, and it smacked his heart.

  “She wants you back,” he said. “You heard that, right?”

  “I didn’t have to. I know she wants me back. I’m still friends with staffers, and I’ve heard the place is total chaos now.”

  “Would you reconsider?” he asked, a little surprised at how much he didn’t want her to say yes.

  “Did I sound like a person who would reconsider?” she asked. “I can’t forgive her.”

  “Or him,” he added.

  When she didn’t answer, he looked up and found her staring at him with only a question in her golden-brown eyes. “What else did she say to you?” she asked softly.

  Why lie? “That he’s not over you. And you probably aren’t over him.”

  She snorted.

  “And that you’d never love anyone els
e like you loved him.”

  She continued stroking Demi’s head, looking down. “Maybe she’s transferring her own feelings to me. She doesn’t like to lose people once she has them in her grasp.”

  “Did she have you?”

  “In some ways, yes,” she admitted. “Our relationship was complex. Mentor and student, boss and employee, even mother and daughter, though she’s only about seven years older than I am. Seeing her out there was…hard.”

  He put a hand on her shoulder. “I could tell. Are you okay?”

  “I was better before she showed up.” She managed a wistful smile. “Sorry about the interruption.”

  “Sorry she showed up and wrecked you.”

  “She wrecked me a month ago.” She blew out a breath, the first sign of tears in her eyes.

  “Hey, Sadie. C’mere.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, once again only wanting to take that pain from her expression.

  “Should I forgive her?” she asked on a whisper. “Is that the right thing to do?”

  “My grandmother always says that hate hurts the vessel it’s in, not the one it gets poured on.” He gave a dry laugh. “Something like that. With a brogue.”

  He felt her smile against his chest, giving him a little kick of satisfaction.

  “Maybe you can forgive her, Sadie. Forgive them both.”

  He felt her collapse a little in his arms. “No, I can’t.”

  Nathan Lawrence was her whole world, and she will never, ever love another man like she loved him.

  Sharp, edgy, wily Jane Sutherland had certainly given him information that he could use…but not to make sure he didn’t lose an election. To make sure he didn’t lose his heart to a woman who’d already given hers to someone else.

  Chapter Sixteen

 

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