by Lori Wilde
Edie paused and stared at the wall. She was sitting in the employee lounge on her lunch break, catching up on her notations. What else could she say about Jonah?
He remained an enigma despite having revealed a small part of himself to her when he’d sang to her the robot girlfriend song.
He was kind, handsome, good-natured, understanding.
But he stole cars, and he carried a gun. And maybe he was responsible for the department store thefts.
Never mind that he wrote songs about teenage heartbreak spurred from getting dumped by the high school cheerleader.
She had to find out more about him. About his personal life. Who his parents were, how he’d been raised, who was this Aunt Polly?
Genetics and environment. Those clues held the keys that unlocked behavior. She would find her answers in Jonah’s past.
Yet how did she go about getting this information without asking him directly?
It wasn’t as if she could get him to croon to her in the darkness again. Unless...
What better way than a date?
Yet did she dare get that close to him again given the fact she had very little control over her emotions when she was around him? Even working beside him at the store was torture. On a date there’d be more kisses. Kisses would only lead to trouble. Before she embarked on this mission, she had to be sure she could handle any sexual overtures.
Bigger question, would Dr. Braddick approve of her dating him even if it was the only real way to obtain in-depth information?
Edie toyed with a strand of her hair, twisting it around her index finger before making up her mind. She pressed her pen to the paper and wrote:
Problem—obtaining information without appearing obvious.
Solution—meet subject in a casual social situation.
Plan of action—ask subject out on a date.
THREE DAYS LATER, ON Saturday afternoon, she finally worked up the courage to ask Jonah out.
Her palms were so sweaty she had to wipe them against her pant legs. She’d never asked out a guy before. It was more difficult than she thought it would be.
Throughout the day, she’d cast furtive glances his way. He looked so jovial in that Santa suit, smiling and joking with the children, but Edie knew what lay beyond the padding and the fake beard.
Yards and yards of lean, muscular male. Even now, watching him give the last child in line a candy cane, tingles bubbled inside of her.
Santa, you can come down my chimney any time.
Immediately, she chastised herself for that silly thought. Much as she might like getting close to Santa on a physical level, she could not. This relationship must remain strictly aboveboard.
No more stolen kisses. No more lying underneath him on Carmichael’s bedding. No more late-night fantasies about what might have been.
Jonah met her gaze, his eyes twinkling mischievously as if he could read her mind. “Ready to call it a night?” He stepped down from the sleigh and turned to leave.
Edie gulped. “Um...Jonah.”
He stopped and favored her with a grin worth committing a carnal sin for.
“Yes, Edie?”
“I was wondering...” She couldn’t even look him in the eye. Edie stared intently at her hands. This would be easier if he wasn’t wearing a red suit and artificial whiskers.
“Yes?” His voice was soft, enticing.
Just say the words, Edie.
“I was wondering, if you’re not busy, would you like to go out tonight?”
He crooked a finger under her chin, raising her face to meet his. “I’d like that very much, but I’m afraid I’ve got plans tonight.”
“Plans?” she repeated like an idiot.
“I’m going out with Carl and Kyle and Harry. We’ve had this planned since last week and...”
“That’s okay.” She pulled away from him, her heart sinking into her shoes. He was spending his evening with the guys. Not even a date with her could cancel his plans. What did that mean? Would Jonah rather be with them than with her? “No problem.”
“But I’d be happy to go out with you tomorrow night.”
“Really?” Her pulse leapt joyously. Was she pathetic or what?
“Sure. You can pick me up at eight since you know where I live.”
“Great.” Edie smiled and watched him walk away.
Then it dawned on her. He was going out with the three worst guys in the world for him to be with.
WHERE WERE THEY GOING? Edie thought about the store thefts. Might they all be involved? All four of them in on it together, maybe even Jules, too?
She grimaced. She hated to believe the worst about any of them, but the facts were staring her in the face. Jonah was in the store without a reasonable explanation. Carl was good with money. Kyle knew the store security codes. Harry had underworld connections. Were they planning on fencing the items or whatever it was that thieves did with stolen merchandise?
She had to know for sure if Jonah was involved in the department store thefts. She had to put her mind at ease once and for all. Like it or not, she had to follow him again.
THE FOUR OF THEM CROWDED into Carl’s compact car and headed for the strip club outside of the Rascal city limits.
Harry talked nonstop about how his sexy girlfriend was going to wow their pants off. Jonah couldn’t help thinking that no matter how well put together the woman might be, she couldn’t hold a candle to a certain little elf.
An elf that had taken up permanent residence in his head.
Jonah couldn’t stop thinking about Edie and their impending date. This wasn’t good. This wasn’t right. He should be concentrating on the job at hand. He should be finding out if the men in the car with him were stealing from Carmichael’s Department Store.
What he shouldn’t do was pine over a woman who wanted nothing more than to reform him. To mold him into the man she yearned for him to be.
Wincing inwardly, he recalled the early-morning hours on that bed in Carmichael’s Department Store with Edie’s hot little body crushed beneath his. Even now, his lower region tightened with the memory of her wriggling beneath him.
He had been out of his ever-loving mind telling her about Beth Ann Pulaski and singing her the robot girlfriend song. Why had he revealed so much about himself to her?
A weak moment. It was his only excuse. His sudden loquaciousness had nothing to do with her delicious scent or her wide green eyes or the way her little giggle thrilled him to the bone.
Why couldn’t he stop thinking about the taste of those sweet red lips, the feel of her satin soft skin, the sound of her breathy voice?
No woman had ever dominated his wakefulness like this. Not even Beth Ann and he’d been a randy teenager at the time.
Edie.
Innocent and feisty. Determined and loyal. Caring and kind and considerate.
She had no place in his life, nor he in hers.
But he wanted her. With a fierceness that scared him. When had he become so vulnerable to her charms? How had he allowed this to happen?
Jonah was so busy berating himself he hadn’t realized they’d pulled into the club parking lot until Carl shut off the engine.
Neon lights flashed—Girls, Girls, Girls. On top of the building was a lighted caricature of a voluptuous female wriggling out of her G-string. The bump and grind music from inside the building throbbed so loudly they could feel the vibrations through the floorboard of the car.
“Ready, boys?” Carl asked. Harry and Kyle cheered. Jonah forced out a noise of enthusiasm.
Okay. Get on the ball. The sooner you solve the case, the sooner you can quit being Santa.
And the sooner he could get away from Edie Preston and her bewitching spell.
Chapter Ten
They were going to a strip club!
Edie watched from the parking lot of Sinbad’s Gentlemen’s Cabaret as Carl, Harry, Kyle, and Jonah walked in the front door.
She sighed. Men.
For Harry, Kyle
, and Carl, she knew the temptation to drink would be strong. For Jonah, Edie wasn’t sure what would tempt him the most. Drink or naked feminine flesh.
Did she really want to find out?
The words Jonah had spoken to her in his house the day she’d suspected him of stealing the Corvette rattled in her head.
Before you’re ever going to relate to your patients, before you can ever really understand people, you’re going to have to take a walk on the wild side.
Yes. She wanted to know. What was it about the wild side that so gripped Jonah?
She parked in a far corner of the lot and sat there a few minutes collecting her courage. She could do this. All in the name of science. This was for her dissertation. Nothing personal. Right?
Taking a deep breath, Edie got out of the car. Rain had fallen earlier in the day, and cool humidity permeated the night air. She pulled the collar of her coat tightly around her neck and eased up to the door.
The song “Hot Stuff’ blasted.
Edie slipped inside and stood in the darkness of the entryway, taking in the sights.
Three near-naked women danced and twirled on a stage in the center of the room while a fog machine occasionally belched out clouds of smoke. Strobe lights gyrated.
The place was so dark Edie could barely see in front of her. She inched forward and took an empty chair at a table in the back.
She hadn’t located Jonah and his friends. She slipped from her coat, then removed her mittens and rubbed her palms together.
“What’ll ya have?” A waitress with a Megan Fox figure wearing a barely-there outfit fashioned after a tuxedo, hovered near Edie’s elbow.
“I’m fine, thanks.” Edie smiled.
“There’s a two-drink minimum.” The waitress had to shout to be heard above the noise.
“Oh, well, in that case, I’ll have a cola.”
“It’ll cost you ten fifty.”
“Ten dollars and fifty cents!”
“Or you could get an alcoholic beverage for the same price,” the woman suggested with a shrug.
Edie didn’t drink alcohol, but it seemed extravagant to pay ten fifty for a cola. Take a walk on the wild side.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll have a drink.”
The waitress looked at her expectantly.
“You want to know what kind of drink?” Edie asked.
“That’d be a start.”
“Uh, well, what do you suggest?”
“Beer, wine, mixed drink. Mixed drinks are the best bargain for the money.”
“All right then, I’ll have a mixed drink.” Edie folded her hands together on the table.
The waitress sighed. “What kind of mixed drink?”
“You choose.”
“How about a Slow Comfortable Screw?”
“Beg pardon?”
Was the woman suggesting some sort of kinky sexual proposition? Fear clenched her stomach. She was in way over her head.
“Don’t panic, honey.” The woman laid a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t want to take you to bed. A Slow Comfortable Screw is a drink.”
Edie felt her face flame in the darkness. She wanted the woman to leave as quickly as possible. “Yes, bring me two of those comfortable thingies.”
“Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to get a tip out of this one?” the woman muttered under her breath and sashayed away, hips swinging like a pendulum.
Embarrassed at her ignorance, Edie plucked a twenty and a five from her purse and left it on the table. She’d show that waitress that she indeed knew how to tip.
The music changed. Now they were playing “Bad Girls.” What was this? Throwback to disco night?
Edie studied the men sitting around the stage. They were whistling and clapping and waving bills at the women. The dancers would come over and shake their assets in the guys’ faces and relieve them of their money.
What did it feel like, Edie wondered, to strut your stuff like that? Capitalizing on men’s desires to see women naked. It sounded frightening and powerful and utterly bizarre.
The women strutted and flaunted their bodies. One swung around a pole as if she were a world-class gymnast. Another did the splits. A third did very strange things with a banana.
Oh, dear!
The waitress brought her drinks, whisked up the bills, and pranced over to a table full of rowdy cowboys in Stetsons.
Edie took a sip of her drink.
Sweet. Fruity. And it warmed her straight to her toes.
Nice. Very nice.
She took another sip and finally spotted Jonah. He and the other fellows were sitting at a table not far from the stage. Jonah had his back to her, his attention riveted on the dancers.
Sadness washed over her.
Was this what he found attractive? Blatant exhibitionism? Naked female flesh swinging and twisting and cavorting under colored lights?
Apparently so.
Humph.
Edie took the thin red cocktail straw in her teeth and sucked hard. Gosh this thing tasted good.
She fished out the cherry and chewed on it. What was that Jules said to her the night she met her at the coffee shop? If you could tie a cherry stem with your tongue that meant you were good in bed.
After she swallowed the cherry, Edie sat nibbling on the stem, her gaze welded on Jonah and company. He was laughing at something Carl had said.
Ha. Ha.
Still chomping on the cherry stem, Edie took a notepad and pen from her purse. She squinted in the almost nonexistent lighting.
Case Study—Jonah Stevenson
Observation—December 14
Subject has entered a strip club with three male coworkers. He seems very entertained by the more basic aspect of the male-female relationship. The stripper offers him a look at her body. He deposits money into her skimpy G-string.
Edie watched Jonah do just that, and she experienced a sudden urge to cry. What in the heck was the matter with her? She was simply observing him for her dissertation. She shouldn’t care. She was a scientist. A professional. Her emotions had no place in the case study.
She slammed the notebook closed, jammed it in her purse, and sat trying to do the impossible—tie that silly cherry stem into a knot with her tongue.
Minutes later, Edie realized she would never be good in bed. The mutilated stem fell to pieces in her mouth. She spit the shreds into a napkin and took a big swallow of her drink.
This time a warm fluffy cloud enveloped her body. Her head swam fuzzy, and she had the strongest urge to sing. Who invented this drink? It was wonderful.
The dancers were hoofing it to “You Sexy Thing,” when Edie realized she had to go to the bathroom. She pushed back her chair. The wooden legs screeched against the floor.
“Shh.” Edie put a finger to her lips and rose to her feet.
Whoa! Why did her knees feel like overcooked noodles?
Was she tipsy?
Edie giggled. This wasn’t so bad.
Now, where was the potty?
She managed to find the bathroom. On her way back to her table, she bumped into a tall, burly man with arms that bulged around the sleeves of his tight black T-shirt. He looked as if he spent a lot of time at the gym. He had been pacing in front of the door, something lacy and very skimpy clutched in his hands.
“There you are!” he said when she jostled his elbow.
“Oops. I’m sorry.”
“Okay, so you’re late. Don’t worry about it. Just get dressed. Your set starts in seven minutes.” He thrust the lacy thing at her. “And put on some more makeup.”
“Makeup?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Mac sent you, right? Vera called in sick, and Mac was supposed to send someone over.”
And then it hit Edie what this man was saying. He thought she was a relief stripper come to fill in for his ailing dancer.
A wicked little voice whispered inside her head. Take a walk on the wild side.
She could go up on stage and dance. Sh
e could find out firsthand what it was like. It would be a perfect sidebar to her case study on Jonah. She would explore his world, analyze it, and use her analysis to draw conclusions about him.
She could have men ogling her and wanting to take her home. She could have Jonah’s undivided attention.
The last thought cinched it.
“Yeah,” Edie said. “Mac sent me.”
The guy raked his gaze over her. “Mac’s got good taste; I’ll say that for him.”
“Thank you.” Edie fluttered her eyelashes at the guy, feeling sexier and more seductive than she’d ever felt in her life. It didn’t hurt that she was fueled by Slow Comfortable Screws. “Where do I change?”
The guy pointed to a door. “Through there.”
“Thanks.”
Pulse quick and thready with excitement, knees weak, Edie pushed through the door. She could do this. She would do this. Then Jonah couldn’t say she’d never done anything bad. She’d gotten tipsy, and now she was going to perform a striptease. Or was it that she’s gotten strippy and was now going to perform a tiptease?
She found the dressing room easily enough. A blonde and a redhead sat in bathrobes, applying a fresh round of makeup, and a third woman lounged in a beanbag chair, swiping an app on her phone.
“Hi,” Edie greeted them. “I’m new.”
“Good for you,” the one in the beanbag chair said without looking up.
“Mac sent me,” Edie explained.
“You better quit gabbing and get dressed,” the blonde at the mirror said. “You’re on in five.”
“Oh, okay.” Edie shrugged out of her coat and hung it on a rack. She assumed that meant five minutes.
“Come on, honey,” the redhead said, “move it.”
Hands trembling, Edie took off her clothes and slipped into the tiny outfit. A glittery gold G-string and a gauzy see-through bra.
I can’t go on stage dressed like this.