Custom Love

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Custom Love Page 6

by Chantal Fernando


  “Okay, I can help you find him. And as for Izzy, just speak to her, I don’t see why she wouldn’t agree. You are Mila’s dad.”

  He nods. “You’re right. And you know what? I really enjoyed today. My life has been nothing but kids and work and just taking it day by day, so it was really fucking refreshing to do something different. No matter how weird it turned out in the end.”

  “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” I laugh. “Welcome to another crazy day in the life of a private investigator.”

  “Well, if you ever need a sidekick, give me a call,” he comments casually.

  “You going to be the Robin to my Batman?” I tease.

  “Something like that.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  I smile so hard that it hurts my cheeks.

  The weird thing is, I can’t remember the last time I did that.

  Chapter Seven

  The next morning I’m back at work and I feel like banging my head against the desk. Every lead I’ve tried has given me no evidence of anything amiss, just a gut feeling that won’t go away.

  Hell, I don’t know, maybe it’s indigestion, but I am unsure on where to go from here. I want to help Damon, but there’s only so much I can do.

  I’m considering calling up Marisol and telling her I need to quit and find a new career when I get a phone call from Decker. “You at your office?” he says in greeting.

  “Yeah, why?” I ask, brow furrowing.

  “Stay there, I’m coming in,” he says, hanging up before I can reply.

  I’m impatient waiting for him, so I tidy up my desk and files to keep me occupied. After what feels like an hour but is probably only fifteen minutes, he comes in with two coffees in his hands and offers me one.

  I take it, eyeing him suspiciously. “Thank you. What is it for?”

  He laughs. “Your work has made you cynical. It’s just coffee. I was getting one for me, so I got one for you.”

  “That’s nice of you.”

  He sits down, making himself comfortable, so I take my place in my own chair and wait for him to speak. “So I asked around...”

  “And?” I press.

  “And I didn’t find anything.”

  “Great.”

  “Everything checks out. All proper police protocol was followed, and there’s nothing suspicious. Are you sure he didn’t do it?”

  “I don’t even know anymore,” I admit. “Okay, assuming everything checks out, did you look at the evidence? Other than a surveillance video of him bumping into Ariel and her body being found by his house, there is no other physical evidence linking him to this crime.”

  “I’ve seen people be convicted on less than that.”

  I let out a loud sigh. “Okay, what about his alibi? His mom said she was with him ’til about ten, it was her birthday.”

  Decker arches his brow. “Is that what you’re believing? He was with his mom that night, but not for all of it. He left at one point to put gas in his car. We don’t know how long he was gone because they both clearly lied about it, but we saw him on the gas station surveillance at about seven or seven thirty that night.”

  “What?” I grit out, furious that Marisol lied to me. She clearly said they were together, at Damon’s home, from six until ten at night.

  “Didn’t mention that, did she?” Decker asks in a dry tone, shaking his head.

  “Why wasn’t the video in evidence?”

  He gives me a weird look. “It was. It was on the USB. I thought you saw everything.”

  Shit. I must have missed that. I didn’t get a chance to write down the time stamp since Lieutenant Casey saw me. That’s on me. I should’ve caught that.

  Fuck.

  “You’ve done what you can, Nadia. I think it’s time to let this one go.”

  Normally, I’d still pursue this because I still think there is something weird here. But Marisol lied to me. She looked me in the eye and told me she wasn’t hiding anything. I don’t know if I can continue working on this case, putting my personal relationships on the line, for someone who is going to lie to me.

  “I think you might be right,” I mutter, feeling sad about the whole thing. “It’s hard to walk away. This one was personal. That and I don’t like to leave things unsolved.” But sometimes you have to.

  “And that’s why I like you, Nadia. You are here because you love your work, not because of anything else.”

  “I’m sure not here for the money.” I grin.

  He laughs, leaning toward me. “Sometimes walking away isn’t losing. It’s being smart. Allow you to focus on other cases.”

  “Yeah, you’re probably right. I have to call Marisol and tell her.”

  “Don’t let her make you feel guilty,” he says, standing up, coffee in hand. “None of this is on you, especially when she wasn’t even completely honest with you.”

  “True.”

  Decker says bye and leaves, and with an audible sigh I eye my phone, dreading the conversation I’m about to have.

  I don’t know why, but my mind wanders to Trade. It was actually pretty fun having him tag along yesterday, and at least now I don’t have to feel guilty about working on Damon’s case. But now have a new moral dilemma. Do I tell Trade that the case he helped me on was Damon’s? Even if I’m not going to work on it anymore, do I owe it to him to tell him what I was doing? He has invited me into his home to spend time with his family, and I don’t want to lie to him.

  I thought it would be easy to separate the two worlds, but it hasn’t been, and I, for one, am glad that it’s over and done with.

  * * *

  A few days later and I’m in Trade’s house, handing AJ his gifts.

  “Thank you, Nadia!” AJ beams as he opens each one.

  “You are welcome,” I tell him, messing his hair. “And you have lovely manners, you know that?”

  “Dad warned me before everyone got here,” he admits with a cheeky grin.

  “Well, then you have a lovely dad,” I say, then clear my throat, looking to the man in question, who is in the kitchen filling up bowls of snacks. After spending time together following Taylor, I’ve started looking at him a little differently. Before he was just this great guy that was going through something hard. Now I still see the same great guy, but I realize I’m attracted to him. There’s a connection there, and I can’t even explain it.

  “You look beautiful,” Bronte says as she walks toward me, checking out my floral maxi dress. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you in a dress.”

  I glance down at the outfit I bought yesterday. “What? This old thing?”

  Bronte arches her brow. “Uh-huh, so we’re playing it like that, are we?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you drinking alcohol at a kid’s party?” I ask, eyeing her red cup.

  She laughs. “There’s always alcohol at kids’ parties. You’ve been to the ones at the clubhouse. It’s how the adults survive. Come outside with me.”

  I head out the back, where everyone is sitting, the barbecue is going, and the kids are all playing in the bouncy castle Trade rented. Crow comes over to say hello, his blue eyes warm. Bronte hit the jackpot with him—he’s kind, caring and just a genuinely nice guy. “You look lovely.”

  “Thanks,” I tell him. “Although I’m slightly concerned how I normally look considering the compliments I’m getting.”

  Bronte smiles. “You just look extra beautiful today is all.”

  “Thank you.” I wanted to look nice today, and now I’m realizing it probably has to do with my budding feelings for Trade. “You know what? I might have an ice-cold alcoholic beverage after all.”

  Bronte nods and leads me away to the bar. “So, is there anything you aren’t telling me?”

  “About what?”

  �
��About Trade?” she presses, voice soft. “I see how you look at each other, and I want you both to be happy. But are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “Nothing has happened, Bronte.”

  And it’s a terrible idea to have any sort of feelings about him. For all I know he only sees me as a friend, and he’s not going to be happy when I tell him that I was looking into Ariel’s case.

  Maybe I should wait for another time. Like when it’s not his kid’s birthday party.

  Don’t be a coward, Nadia.

  “You’re not doing a good job of convincing me—”

  “But I don’t have feelings for him. I just like him—”

  “Uh-huh! See! I knew it—”

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” I grumble, pouring myself some cranberry juice with a drop of vodka. “I’m going to stop talking now.”

  I can’t tell her how I feel if I don’t even know myself. Or maybe I’m in denial. Maybe I know but just don’t want to say it out loud.

  Because that would make it real, and a big problem.

  “You going to stop talking before we even get to chat?” Trade asks as he approaches. He eyes my drink and grins. “Getting right into the party spirit?”

  Ah, shit. How much of that did he hear? Knowing my luck—all of it. Bronte gives me a wink and casually leaves the conversation.

  “Bronte tells me it’s the thing to do at a kid’s party. Do you want me to pour you one? The alcoholic content in this drink couldn’t even get an ant drunk,” I admit.

  He laughs. “No, someone needs to stay completely sober and make sure the kids are all looked after. I’m pretty sure it’s frowned upon for the host to do any drinking until all the children leave.”

  “That makes sense.” I’m glad someone here is responsible.

  “AJ loved his presents, thank you. The Power Rangers sword is going to be a big hit, I can tell,” he says, eyes on me.

  “I’m glad he liked it. Thanks for inviting me. It’s nice to be somewhere else other than work.” Kind of like how he felt when I took him out with me. I let him into my world, and now he’s letting me in to his.

  “Have you done the rounds?” he asks, nodding to the big group of people scattered around.

  “Not yet.”

  “Come on, I’ll escort you.”

  We go and say hello to everyone, starting with his brother, Temper, and his wife, Abbie, who are manning the barbecue, and then around to everyone else. The whole MC is here, including Chains, who isn’t with Taylor. I’m kind of glad for that, because it would have been awkward.

  Quinn runs up and hugs my leg. “Hi Auntie Nadia,” she says with a toothy grin.

  “There’s my favorite girl,” I say, picking her up and cuddling her. “I swear you get bigger every time I see you. You look pretty.” She’s wearing one of the dresses I bought her, the tiered mustard one, with the matching headband. “How cute is she?” I ask Trade, who is silently watching us with a smile playing on his lips.

  “Extremely. She’s obviously very fond of you,” he notes.

  “I hope so.” I grin. I put her down and watch her walk back to the bouncy castle, where Bronte is waiting, and the two of them get in together. I can hear Quinn’s giggles all the way from here.

  AJ runs over to me with his new sword in his hand, holding it in the air. “I love this so much!” he yells out as he approaches. “Look at this move! I’m a ninja!”

  “You definitely got spoiled today,” Trade says, smiling down at him with gentle eyes. “I hope you’ve had a good birthday, son.”

  “I have, Dad. And I said thank you to everyone, just like you reminded me.” He pauses and then adds, “I love this party. You’re the best dad in the world.”

  He hugs Trade, and I have to look away, feeling like I am intruding on their personal moment. They have such a wonderful relationship.

  When AJ runs off, I turn to Trade and shake my head. “I don’t know what you do, but keep doing it.”

  “It’s been a hard year for him. His biological mother chose drugs over them and now has no contact, so Ariel became his mother figure...”

  And then he lost her, too.

  No more needs to be said.

  Without thinking, I touch his arm, and give it a squeeze. “You’ve been dealt the worst of hands, but you’re doing an amazing job, Trade. And you’re still here for all of them.”

  “My mother was a drug addict. I don’t know how I repeated the cycle by having kids with one, but I’ve made some stupid mistakes. It’s hard to regret them when I have my kids, though, I’d probably do it all over again if I had to.”

  “There’s no point having regrets. You’re right to look at the bright side—you have your beautiful children and you get to raise them how you want to.”

  “I try to stay positive.”

  I let go, but our eyes stay connected. “I need to talk to you about something later.”

  I say it so I can’t get out of it. He will call me on it if I try to leave without opening up to him about what I wanted to tell him.

  “You going to leave me in suspense like that?” he asks, lip twitching.

  I smile. “I guess so. More that I want to wait until the party is over.”

  “Fair enough.”

  We get the crowd together to sing “Happy Birthday” and cut the cake, and Trade brings me a slice. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you. Bronte made the cake?” I ask, eyeing the delicious piece.

  “She did. AJ loves her cakes.”

  “Don’t we all,” I reply, taking a bite and sighing in contentment as the buttercream hits my tongue. “No one can beat her cakes, I swear.”

  Trade leaves for host duties and Cam comes over and sits with me, her bright arm tattoos catching my eye. She’s wearing a cute leather skirt and a white blouse, her green eyes lined to perfection. Cam is one talented woman, with people on waiting lists, wanting her to design and paint their motorcycles at Fast & Fury. “How’s life?”

  “Pretty good. And yourself?”

  “Currently eating cake and surrounded by my favorite people, so I can’t complain,” she murmurs, licking icing off her fingers. “He’s a good man, isn’t he?”

  “Who?” I ask.

  “Trade.”

  My eyes follow the man in question as he laughs with his children. “Yeah, he is.”

  She doesn’t say anything else on the subject, and I don’t think she needs to. She’s saying what Bronte did, in a much subtler way. Everyone is watching us, and they are concerned. I can understand why. But nothing has happened between us, and there is nothing wrong with a friendship growing there, even if I am attracted to him.

  Cam heads off to find Orion, and Trade comes and takes her spot. “Can I get you another drink or anything?”

  “I’m okay, but thank you,” I say. “Have you noticed that everyone is watching us?”

  “Yep. Just ignore them. Unless you want to give them something to talk about?”

  I try to hide my smirk. “No, thank you.”

  He laughs. “You sure?”

  I roll my eyes. “Now is not the time or place.”

  “Okay, later then.”

  I bring my eyes to his, only to find his on my mouth.

  I clear my throat, and change the subject. “I suppose you’d be a pro at throwing kids’ parties by now.”

  “I guess you could say that,” he replies in an amused tone. “I think as long as you have enough food and snacks you are good to go.”

  We spend the next hour or so chatting and catching up with everyone. Trade makes me feel very welcome, and I find myself not wanting to leave.

  Which is why I probably should.

  Although after we have our chat, maybe he won’t want anything to do with me anymore, so maybe I should enjoy it while I ca
n.

  Chapter Eight

  “Do you want any help cleaning up?” I ask Trade as people begin to head home. Before he can answer, I get a garbage bag and start picking up all the trash in the garden.

  “You don’t have to do that, I’ll get the kids to help me after everyone is gone,” he says, trying to take the bag from me. “You are a guest. I don’t expect you to do any of that.”

  “Trade, it’s fine. I don’t mind helping,” I say, moving my hands away. “And besides, everyone is gone. With me helping, it will be done quickly.”

  He looks around and realizes it’s just us two remaining. “You are the best, you know that?”

  “I do.” I grin.

  He laughs, and calls the girls and AJ and asks them to help us. He tells them what to do, and off they go. “Thanks, Nadia.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  I pick up all the ripped wrapping paper and put it in the recycling bin, and then tidy up the kitchen while Trade and the kids finish cleaning the garden. It doesn’t take long for us to have the whole place back to normal, and then the kids take their showers, which means it’s time for me to tell Trade what I was going to.

  What if he gets so upset and me telling him is all for nothing? Do I want to tell him to be honest or to rid myself of the guilt? Is him knowing going to make things better? I don’t want to start any drama for no reason. I should have chosen a better time to tell him, not after his kid’s party. I’m an idiot. But I’m here right now and can’t exactly say, Oh, never mind, I’ll tell you another time. It’s a little too late for that.

  Fuck it, I just have to be honest, no matter what the outcome is in the end. It’s my life’s motto, and I refuse to compromise myself.

  “What is it?” he asks, frowning. “Is everything okay?”

  “There’s something I have to tell you, but it’s going to upset you, so it’s just really hard for me to get the words out,” I admit, shifting on the leather.

 

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