by Eve Langlais
The front window had the vertical blinds closed. I saw no light, but it was bright enough outside to not need any lamps.
Since standing and staring might freak out the neighbors—and cops never did like the excuse I was admiring the roof tile—I kept going. Feet hitting the pavement with a steady thump. The music in my ear buds helping me keep a pace.
My entire body hummed, and my mind spun. What would I do today? I’d yet to get any good leads, but my gut told me I was in the right place. And no, this had nothing to do with Derek.
Okay, so maybe it did, but only because I truly believed he might know something. He warned me I should leave and look what happened. Someone tried to kidnap me! Which I hadn’t told Lana about yet. She’d have ordered me home and not taken no for an answer.
However, the fact that someone tried to abduct me only convinced me I was on the right track. Which was why I’d be visiting the hospital later to find out more about the big dude who jumped me the previous night. I’d better bring some bakery treats for a bribe because hospitals were weird about not giving out info, citing privacy and stuff. Good thing I knew how to talk and smile my way into getting the basics. All I needed was a name.
On my return trip back past Derek’s house, I found him standing at the end of his driveway, newspaper tucked under an arm. Coffee cup in hand.
As I slowed in front of his place, he held out the mug.
“Is that for me?” I glanced at the very light-colored brew.
“Triple sugar with cream.”
“How did you know?”
“Wild guess based on your treat bag from last night.”
“Awesome.” I took a sip. Mmm. Real sugar, none of that fake no-calorie no-carb stuff. “But how did you know I’d be jogging this way?”
“Because you’re not exactly subtle when you spy. Since my neighbors don’t like people who skulk, I thought I’d invite you in for breakfast.”
“I do not skulk! Just out for a morning run.”
“Here?” He gestured to the street lined with houses. “There’s a park with trails one block from the motel.”
“Boring,” I sang.
“River about six blocks the other way.”
“Seen one river, seen them all.”
“Why not just admit you wanted to see me again?” He winked. “It’s okay. I totally get it. I can’t stop thinking about the kiss either.”
“Yeah, but did you masturbate to it?” I sassed. His plan to throw me off guard backfired.
He gaped. His cheeks got color, and I gasped. “Oh my, you jerked one off, didn’t you? Don’t feel bad. I let my fingers do some walking, too, if you know what I mean.” I winked.
“You are impossible. Get inside,” he grumbled before giving me a tap on the butt with his paper.
“Eep,” I squeaked even if it didn’t hurt. “You should not be doing that. I didn’t give permission.”
“Get inside or I’ll do it again.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“I will dare if you don’t move.”
He seemed serious, which was cute, and while I was tempted to stay still for another little pat on my butt, I wouldn’t mind breakfast. My cash flow was running low, which meant I needed to find some work to get flush again. I could call Lana and she’d wire me some, but then I’d get the whole speech about how I should give up and come home. That was the last thing I wanted to do.
Lana did not need a third wheel cramping her time with Jory. She’d finally found the guy who made her sing happy songs that brought the birds and didn’t kill them.
Plus, it was time I went out and had my own adventure and me time. I’d spent the last few years kind of stuck in a rut. Not going outside my comfort zones.
Seeing first Beth, then Lana, being dragged out and forced to act and, in the process, falling in love, made me realize I’d never find my sweet spot in life if I didn’t do something.
If it took going across the Rockies, town by town, looking for something to make my restless feet slow down, then so be it.
I was having fun.
As for the dangerous part, like almost being kidnapped? Kind of exhilarating.
Running into Derek?
Panty wetting.
Seeing him again in a tracksuit that did nothing to hide his body?
Delicious.
The offer of food?
I strutted into his house like I owned it. Only to stop dead. Because what did I see on the table in his kitchen? Two bowls and a box of bran flakes.
I turned a horrified face toward him. “You cannot seriously expect me to eat that.”
“It’s healthy,” he countered.
“It’s fiber,” I gasped, as he didn’t seem to understand the gravity of it.
“Yes, and?”
“Where are the Froot Loops? The Captain Crunch? Or Honeycombs? And bacon. It’s not breakfast if there’s no bacon dipped in syrup.”
“Sugar and fat?” His turn to appear horrified.
“Oh, dear me. Don’t tell me you’re one of those who bought into the whole hype about sugar being bad. It should have its own food group. We need to fix this, pronto. Please tell me you have flour, baking soda, eggs, and milk.”
“I don’t bake, so no flour, but I do have eggs and milk.”
“Nutmeg and cinnamon?” I pled.
“I’ve got some kind of spice mix for spiked eggnog if that helps.”
It did. Especially since I’d spotted a loaf of bread on the counter. In moments, I’d whipped up some fluffy French toast, heated some jam to syrup consistency, and plated it along with tall glasses of milk.
He eyed the half-dozen slices on his plate. I only had four, my concession to the fact he was bigger.
“That’s a lot of food,” he remarked.
“Eat.” I didn’t hesitate any longer, digging in and humming my way through the plate and then scraping the leftover jam from the bottom with my fork. I looked over to see him only a third of the way through his stack.
“You don’t like?” I asked.
“It’s good, but I’m not that hungry.” He gestured.
I took it as an invitation and grabbed two more off his plate. Then when he had only a few more bites before putting his fork down, I slid the remainder my way and dug in as well.
“How do you do it?” he finally asked.
“Do what?”
“Eat all that and stay—”
“Don’t say skinny. I hate that word.”
“You’re not fat.”
“Nope. I like to think of myself as just right. I have a very high-acting metabolism.” I finished off the last bite and then, because I couldn’t resist, swiped my finger over the jam on the plate and licked it.
I noticed him watching the movement of my finger. So for fun, I licked it again.
He swallowed, and his expression turned lusty.
How sexy.
And totally counter to my promise to not sleep with him. I blamed him for that. He just had to make himself irresistible. Which was mean. I had addiction issues when it came to yummy things.
“Well, that was delicious,” I declared. “But we’ll have to go shopping before lunch.”
“Lunch?”
“You invited me in. I assumed you had a morning of things planned.”
“No. I’ve actually got to get to work.” He rose from his chair. “As it is, I’m gonna have to speed or I’m going to be late. But you can hang out here if you’d like. I guess.”
“That would be weird. I mean, what if your girlfriend popped in to surprise you and found me?” Last night when I kissed him, I’d not wondered if he had someone else.
Now, it was imperative for me to know.
“I’m single. No roommate. So feel free to hang here. Make yourself at home.”
I cocked my head. “You’re worried those kidnappers will be back.”
“You should be, too. I called the hospital. They already discharged the guy you clocked.”
“I can hand
le myself.”
“They might be better prepared next time.”
“Then you’d better check on me when you’re done working to make sure I’m safe. You know my room number. Chinese food might make your overbearingness endurable.”
“Is that a hint to bring you dinner?”
“Was it too subtle? Because I will be expecting some. With fortune cookies. And lots of sweet and sour sauce for the eggrolls.”
“I’ll bring you food if you promise to go back to the motel and stay inside. Don’t let anyone in. It’s not safe.”
“So you keep saying and yet I’ve not heard why.”
“I’ll tell you when I see you tonight.”
“Why not tell me now?”
He smiled at me, a slow, sexy thing that made my girly bits tingle. “Because this way you’ll be thinking of me all day long.”
The joke was on him. I was going to think of him anyhow.
He offered to drive me back to the motel, but I knew he was running late for work, and besides, now he would be thinking about me all day long. Wondering if I was safe. Maybe I’d text him a picture of me in the shower…
Because I did manage to score his phone number, right after I returned his wallet—so he could buy me dinner later.
With my belly full, I wandered around for a while. My motel room only had a television. As if I wanted to lie in bed and watch it all day. I’d rather explore. So I did, walking in and out of shops. Talking to people. Learning that Chymera Tech had only been around for about five years, so not the place Lana was once held in. But that meant nothing. Businesses changed locations all the time.
At the grocery store, I discovered someone had been picking up large shipments of groceries. As in a thousand dollars’ worth of stuff every few days. But the guy wouldn’t say what or who it was for.
Apparently, the big grocery client was due back tomorrow for another load. I made a mental note to return. Maybe with Derek since he had a vehicle we could use to follow.
Me, I wasn’t allowed a license on account I just couldn’t handle driving and existing at the same time. The world should really thank me for deciding to remain a passenger.
Eventually, as the afternoon waned, I walked back to the motel and waved to Mr. Happy Underpants and his wife as they exited their room and got in their car.
I bounced up the stairs to my room, slid my keycard in the door, and then paused before going inside.
With Derek coming over, it might be smart to invest in some protection, just in case things got frisky. Lucky me, there was a vending machine in the motel office that offered three sizes. I was heading back down the stairs when an explosion overhead sent me flying.
Chapter 7
The day job dragged. Acting as a guard for the forty or so staff and rare guests at his work didn’t make for a busy time.
More than once Derek’s mind strayed to Claire.
Sweet Claire who put away a stack of French toast with an enjoyment that shouldn’t be seen outside the bedroom. Made a man wonder what sounds she’d make when he licked her top to bottom and buried his face between her thighs.
He still couldn’t believe she’d brazenly stalked his house. How about the fact she’d stolen his wallet the night before? He’d not even noticed until she handed it over before walking out his door.
How many skills had she acquired since she’d left their hometown? Because this Claire, this bubbly, ultra-confident woman, while the same sweet girl he’d once admired from afar, had hidden depths.
Work ended at five o’clock, with the evening guy taking over. On the way into town, Derek stopped and snared Chinese food, getting three times what he’d usually get himself. Best to be safe. He also stopped at the store and picked up the sugariest-looking cereals he could find, along with a box of cookies. Something chocolate covered with marshmallow and jam inside.
Armed with treats, he headed to the motel, a country station crooning on the radio, his hand beating the steering wheel in time. As he turned onto the street she was staying on, he slowed in shock. Where once had sat a bright blue two-story monstrosity, there was now a single story because the top floor was a smoldering ruin.
Firemen wearing their suspenders, jackets open to show shirts stained in soot, coiled a hose back onto a truck. A police car sat in the lot, lights slowly flashing as the officers stretched caution tape from light pole to hydrant to another pole, blocking the area in the hopes of barring people from approaching the wreck. As if that would stop the curious. They crowded the sidewalk and held out their phones, taping the scene, their excited chatter filling the air. Some stood by suitcases, evicted patrons. He scanned the crowd looking for one particular face but didn’t spot it.
Where was Claire? Panic, a rare emotion for him, fluttered inside, along with cold fear.
I never should have left her alone.
He hopped out of his truck and sauntered right up to the plastic yellow caution line. “Excuse me?” Derek called out to the officers. “What happened?”
“Fire.” Said in a duh, kind of obvious tone.
“Were there any casualties?” Then because the cops were eyeballing him, he hastened to add, “A friend from out of town was staying here. A woman. Blonde. About yay high.” He held up his hand about pec high.
The rude cop shrugged, but the officer with the dark skin took pity on him and replied, “Everyone got out in time far as we know.”
“Were they sent somewhere?”
“Yeah,” the first cop said, suspicion in his gaze. “And before you ask, we won’t be telling you where. Privacy and all. I’m sure your friend will call you.”
Would she? His phone hadn’t rung all day. Which meant nothing. She might have chosen not to call. Or she could be burnt to a crisp.
The idea didn’t sit well, and he tried to focus on what the officer had stated, which was no one got trapped inside. But where did she go if she escaped?
Sticking around would probably only get him hauled in for questioning, so he sped off. With no clue where to begin looking for Claire, he went home. Let himself in and paused at the knife hovering chest high in front of him.
The smile behind it didn’t reassure.
“What the fuck, Claire?”
“Hey, Derek. About time you got home. And you brought food. I might just love you,” she squealed as she dove on the bags, the knife waving around in a dangerous fashion.
Meanwhile he froze at the word love. He knew she didn’t mean it. Yet it evoked the strangest feeling.
“Why do you have a knife?” Had someone attacked her?
“I was getting ready to cut up some fresh brownies I made.”
Which, now that she mentioned it, filled the air with a baking decadence he’d not enjoyed since leaving home.
“What happened at the motel?” he asked.
“Someone blew up my room,” she announced, heading off with the bags.
“Hold on a second. What do you mean someone blew up your room? How did you escape?”
“The bomb was on some kind of delay. My keycard triggered it. Except I didn’t go inside on account I forgot something. And then boom!” She exploded her hands. “Whole thing blew up. The impact sent me flying. Good thing I know how to hit the ground. Best thing I ever learned as a kid.”
“Your dad taught you to tumble?”
She snorted as she tore apart the paper bags. “As if. I was daddy’s princess. He never did anything with me that might get me dirty. It was my mom who taught me. Some of the time her tricks work.”
“What do you mean some of the time?”
She slid plates onto the table before replying. “The bunny in me isn’t a brave creature. Its first instinct is to freeze, and if that won’t work, then it tends to want to hide. Doing anything other than that goes contrary to my nature.”
“You didn’t look frozen or afraid when you took out that guy.”
“I’ve been working on the whole statue and flight bit.”
“Working on be
ing badass?”
She smiled. “You might say that. Since my therapist is back home, I’ve been listening to some self-help tapes while I sleep. Which I guess got blown up. Pity. I was just about to start the section on not panicking in crowds. Oooh, lemon chicken.” As the yummy food came into view she was distracted.
The lack of conversation while they chewed gave him time to digest, and he didn’t mean the food. Someone had tried to kill Claire, and she didn’t seem bothered by it at all.
It bothered the hell out of him, though.
For the next little bit, talk revolved around her delight in the food. He’d chosen well. The lemon chicken tempura breaded with a sweet lemon sauce, the chicken balls crispy with a cherry sauce for dipping. Then there was the honey beef. And the garlic ribs. She dove into all of it, even the vegetables. She took special delight in rolling her eggroll in the plum sauce and then sucking it off before biting.
The woman made eating into a spectator sport.
“Aren’t you hungry?” she asked, pointing to his plate. He’d only had one serving.
“I’m fine. You?” Because they were running out of food.
“Perfect. For now.” She leaned back and patted her belly. “Don’t forget, I made brownies for later.”
“Later.” It occurred to him that, while she had chosen to come to his place after the explosion, she’d not told him how she got in, or what she planned next.
“How did you get in? Don’t tell me lock picking is another hidden talent.”
“Don’t be silly,” she snickered. “I took your spare key last time I was here.”
What? He glanced at his pegboard, and sure enough, the spare was gone. “You took my key.” He shook his head. “I’m beginning to think you have klepto tendencies.”
“Me? I never steal. But I do borrow from friends.”
Friends. Hunh. The very idea gave him another warm feeling, but he had to wonder if theirs could be the kind of friendship that came with benefits.
“You staying the night?” he asked.
“I’d say that was obvious.”
What was less obvious was where she’d sleep. He had no couch, opting for a pair of leather chairs. He’d tackle that problem later.