by Gina LaManna
“Is that all you remember?” he asked. “Please Lace, if there’s anything else don’t leave it out. I’m only asking so I can protect you. I know it’s hard to talk about.”
I turned down my lower lip. “I don’t remember much else except Meg gave me a glass of wine or two to help calm my nerves.”
“I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you go take a shower? I’ll talk to Meg while the events are fresh in her head.” Anthony stood, leaving me huddled up on the bed.
“Please don’t go yet,” I said, drawing my knees to my chin and wrapping my arms around my legs like a child. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“Of course,” Anthony said, sitting next to me, moving as gingerly as if I were a newborn baby. “I didn’t know...”
His presence next to me was warm and comforting, and after a moment of sitting in silence, I stretched out on top of the covers and pulled Anthony next to me. We lay next to each other, side to side on the bed, staring at the ceiling. My chest felt a bit constricted, and my breathing rattled loud and clear.
Anthony reached out a hand, covering mine with his larger one. Almost immediately my muscles relaxed, and my breathing came a bit easier. A few minutes later, I found my voice and began talking. I filled Anthony in on each and every little detail I could remember – from the number of chicken wings I’d consumed to the warning from Officer Pearson – until I couldn’t talk anymore.
“You did the right thing,” Anthony said after I’d finished. “I’m proud of you.”
“Really?” I turned to look at him. “I thought I panicked.”
“You did panic, but you’re allowed,” Anthony said, a small smile forming on his lips. “I think you were brave in spite of everything.”
“You’re not mad I called the cops?”
“I’ll sort all that out. For right now, I’m most glad you’re safe.” Anthony wiggled one arm behind my head and pulled me close. “It sounds terrible, but I’m happy to be here with you.”
“I’m happy you’re here too,” I whispered. “I’ll take a shower in a second, but for now can we just lay here?”
“For as long as you want.”
I rested my head on Anthony’s chest, letting the beat of his heart lull me into a dreamless sleep.
Chapter 11
“HOW LONG WAS I OUT?” I asked, jolting awake. The room was dark, and it took me a moment to take in my surroundings. Remembering that I was in a bedroom up at Nora’s and Carlos’s cabin, I quickly made the connection between the hard chest pressed against my body and Anthony’s hand on my thigh.
“About ten minutes.” His voice rumbled softly in the night.
“Oh,” I said, a little let down. I felt as if I’d drifted off for hours.
“But I think you went straight into REM because your snores were enough to raise the dead guy out there.”
“That’s not funny,” I said, lightly punching his arm. “I don’t appreciate gallows humor. And I don’t appreciate you accusing me of snoring.”
“Next you’ll be telling me that’s not your drool on my chest.”
Horrified, I glanced down at Anthony’s shirt. As it was dark in the room, it was difficult to tell whether it was a shadow or a little pool of wetness under his collar bone. I didn’t stay long enough to find out.
“I’ve got to take a shower,” I said, rolling away, embarrassment burning my cheeks.
“I was just joking,” Anthony said, his arms tightening around my waist and rolling me right back against him. “I like you just the way you are, drool and all.”
My face must have betrayed my dismay. “Let me go, please. I’m going to shower.”
His grip loosened, his face falling slack in a confused expression. “What did I say? I thought that was what you’d want to hear.”
I turned to face him at the bathroom door. “Name one girl in the entire world who wants to hear that she snored and drooled on her new boyfriend’s shirt.”
“I’m sorry.” Anthony put his hands over his eyes. “I’m new at this, too. I didn’t mean it. It’s probably not even drool – maybe you just sweated a little bit or something.”
“Here’s a suggestion. If you don’t have anything nice to say,” I offered. “Just don’t say anything at all.”
“I’m sorry!”
I resisted rolling my eyes. After all, we both had things to adjust to now that we were a couple. Instead, I shut the door and locked my shameful, drool-filled mouth in the bathroom.
Chapter 12
“YOU LOOK BEAUTIFUL,” Anthony said, his voice hopeful as I emerged from the bathroom.
“Okay, okay, buddy. No need to go overboard. I’m not mad.”
“I was just being honest before,” Anthony said, the relief evident in his voice. “I’m glad you understand.”
Feeling exasperation bubble up in my chest, I moved next to Anthony on the bed and put my hands on his shoulders, looking him in the eye with all the seriousness I could muster, while wearing a shirt that belonged on a mannequin in a sketchy lingerie store.
“I’m still not mad, but sometimes there is such a thing as being too honest,” I said.
“But—”
“Trust me on this,” I said. “Now that we’re a couple, there are a few times it’s okay to lie to me.”
His gaze filled with distrust, Anthony crossed his arms. “Like when?”
“Like when I drool on your shirt or snore really loudly.” I paused. “And I don’t snore loudly.”
“But I heard it—”
“Anthony,” I warned. “Let’s try this again. Do I snore?”
Catching on, Anthony shook his head solemnly. “Never.”
“Good!”
“Out of curiosity, what else don’t you do?” He looked as eager to learn as a high school senior on the final day of class.
“I’ll keep the list short for now,” I said. “But for starters, I don’t snore, I don’t drool, and I do sweat – but only daintily. Also, I don’t ever go number two.”
“Number two?”
“In the bathroom, Anthony. Number one and number two. You do know what that means?”
Anthony’s eyes widened with horror. Leaning in, he whispered in my ear. “That’s a real medical condition, Lacey. I’m sure Dr. Gambino has something he can give you—”
“Anthony!” I placed my hands on both of his cheeks, forcing him to look into my eyes. “The only thing that happens in the bathroom is glitter and sparkles, got it? Just like I don’t drool.”
Anthony gave a long, slow nod. “I think I understand.”
“Good. Let’s leave it at that,” I said.
“Just so you know – I want to be completely honest – sometimes in the bathroom I do go number—”
I held up a hand. “Too much information. Example of too much honesty. Let’s keep things civilized.”
“Got it.” Anthony nodded, and we lapsed into awkward silence.
“So...” I said, glancing up at the ceiling. Our conversation didn’t exactly put me in the mood to get cozy in any way, shape, or form.
Anthony cleared his throat. “I suppose now would be a good time to finish asking you a few questions about what happened here tonight.”
“Why not?” I wasn’t sure what more I could share, but at least it would get us on safer conversational grounds. Which, in retrospect, was a sad thing to admit – that talking about a murder was easier than figuring out our relationship.
“First question. Are you on any sort of secret assignment for Carlos?” Anthony asked. “Are there any logical reasons that anyone might be turning up dead at this cabin?”
“Hmm...now that’s a tough first question.” I’m hardly a good liar when I want to be, but I find it really hard to lie around people I especially like. Or people I’m scared of. Or in Anthony’s case, both.
“Tough in what way?” Anthony propped himself up on one arm, looking over at me.
I scooted a little bit further away to make sure that his hand didn’t creep further up my thi
gh. I needed a lot of brain power to explain the situation.
“Lacey? This is not a time to be dishonest.”
Taking a deep breath, I tried again. “Carlos mentioned he wanted me do a small favor for him while I was up here.”
“How small?”
My gaze swiveled up to meet his. “I don’t know. It sounds kind of large, actually. Larger than I’d like.”
“Please, do go on.”
I waited a full beat before continuing. “I guess there’s some diamond smugglers using the highway exchange just outside of Tonka as a trading post. He wants info on them.”
“Why?”
“Do you think Carlos tells me why he does things?” I asked. “If you didn’t know about it, I would hardly be the first person he’d tell.”
“Obviously he thought you trustworthy enough to ask for a favor,” Anthony said. “And what about those Sugary Senses you’ve been going on about? I thought you might’ve used your powers of deduction to come up with a guess at his intentions.”
A small sliver of pride weaseled its way into my heart. Straightening my shoulders, I did my best to look professional. “You know, it’s a funny thing. This assignment feels different than Carlos’s usual requests.”
“How so?” Anthony pressed, as if coaching me to the right conclusion.
“First of all, he met me on a street corner. In secret.”
“Huh.” The side corner of his mouth quirked upward. “I didn’t think that was Carlos’s style.”
“Hey now, this is business we’re talking about. No time for jokes,” I said, swatting him with a pillow once, twice, maybe eight times.
On the ninth time, he ripped the pillow from me with one hand, flipped me on my back and gave my rear end a firm squeeze as he landed on top of me.
“Hey!” I yelped, giggles erupting as he ran his fingers in a very tickly motion over my ribcage. “Stop it!”
“All is fair in love and pillow fights,” Anthony shrugged. “It’s a fact. Those are the rules.”
“Who said anything about...” I trailed off, not wanting to turn back into relationship talks. “Who said anything about pillow fights? That was a sneak attack, not a fight.”
“Was it?” Anthony asked, resting his elbows on either side of me so that his body planked above mine, trapping me in place. “Because I don’t like being snuck up on.”
My chest was tight as Anthony’s lips hovered above mine.
“So, about the street corner,” I said, wiggling out from underneath him. “I’m sorry, I can’t think with your face that close to mine. I need a few inches of space.”
Anthony let me twist out from underneath him. “Then start talking, or I will give you plenty of reasons not to think.”
I blushed, straightening my B plus ITCH shirt self-consciously. “Carlos and I met in a neighborhood about thirty minutes away from the estate. I’d just left the mansion – I had to get the keys from him for the cabin. He called as I drove away and said he had to talk to me.”
“You sound as if you’re leaving something out,” Anthony said, leaning on the pillow. His fingers found my arm and traced soothing patterns on my skin.
“I’m not,” I said, my eyes drifting shut. “But there’s something odd I can’t put my finger on. It’s almost as if the favor isn’t something for the Family. Think about it. He didn’t tell you the situation, so it can’t be too dangerous. He clearly didn’t want Nora to know. He barely gave me any information which, in itself, isn’t all that unusual, but something about him was more secretive than most days.”
Anthony’s fingers slowed, as if he was distracted by my words.
“Don’t stop,” I said. “Please.”
Anthony’s eyes focused on my face, but the warm, chocolatey glow had faded from his eyes and been replaced by a darker glint. His expression was all business, his gaze calculating. I was impressed how fast Anthony could flip his switch. And also a little disappointed.
“I agree, the circumstances are strange. Does Carlos know I’m here?” Anthony shifted straighter in bed.
“Oh, crapola. No, I forgot to call him,” I said. “I assumed you’d tell him when I called your number instead of 911, then I didn’t think about it again. I’m sorry if I messed things up by calling the police. They didn’t seem to be thrilled to be dealing with a crime scene on Carlos’s property.”
“No, I’d imagine not,” Anthony said, his eyes softening. “But in this instance, I’m glad you called them. Your safety is most important, and with just you and Meg here, if the killer was still around...”
“First of all, Meg has more than one gun that she’d be happy to use. Second of all, there are three other men here, so it’s not as if we were completely alone.” As soon as I stopped talking, I realized my mistake and cringed. “Oh, I forgot to tell you about the men.”
“There are not one, not two, but three men. Here.” Anthony pointed a finger towards the floor. I felt a teensy bit scared all of the sudden, and very meekly pointed my finger up towards the ceiling, gesturing to the second floor.
Anthony held eye contact, ever so slowly rotating his finger so it mirrored mine and pointed upward. “You’re telling me that there are three strange men upstairs.”
“Kind of.”
“Right now. In this very instant.”
“Kind of.”
“Kind of – would you please expand on that, Lace?”
“I’d prefer not to,” I said, wondering how I could tell Anthony that my small lie to Nora about being single had resulted in her setting up the cabin like a scene from The Bachelorette.
Anthony stood. “I repeat, could you expand a little bit? For example – are they alive? Are they dead? Do you have them locked up in a closet somewhere?”
I put a hand on my hip. “Whoa, buddy. I don’t normally lock people in closets.”
Anthony ruffled his hair as he tugged on his locks in exasperation. “Then explain kind of, please.”
I looked down, a bit sheepish I’d forgotten to mention their existence before now. I hoped Anthony didn’t think I was hiding anything, what with them being here. The truth was that after the police had asked the Three Musketeers their standard questions, the men had retreated to the second floor and I’d forgotten all about them.
“It’s nothing, I promise. Nora accidentally double-booked the cabin for this weekend and invited three family friends to stay here tonight,” I explained. “When I called her to confirm it, she gave perfect descriptions of each of the men. I promise I wouldn’t have let them in if Nora didn’t vouch for them.”
“I’d certainly hope not.”
“You haven’t met them,” I said. “One is fresh-off-the-boat Italian. They seemed harmless and Nora admitted she’d invited them up for the weekend. I told them they could stay tonight as a favor to Nora, but that they had to find a hotel tomorrow.”
“That’s everything?”
“What do you mean?”
Anthony narrowed his eyes. “I mean, you let them waltz on in here, even after you found a dead man in your trunk?”
“Technically, they waltzed in before that. And the cops asked them questions and let them stick around, too. You just missed meeting them because they were already back in their rooms by the time you got here. Their car is the Fiat outside.”
Anthony, who’d started to sit up on the bed, stopped in his tracks. “Well, I was going to offer to be a gentleman and sleep on the couch since you’ve been through a lot, but now that’s off the table.”
“Oh, bummer,” I lied.
“Either you kick those men out of the house, or you’re stuck with me in the bed,” Anthony said, twirling the edge of my comforter with his finger.
“Nora would probably be pretty offended if I made them leave in the middle of the night,” I said. “Plus, I can’t kick them out. Where would they sleep? This town isn’t big enough to have a hotel – they’d have to drive for a while. And there’s a killer running around.”
“How
can you be sure one of them isn’t the killer?”
I paused. Though I didn’t think they were, the question was a valid one. “Nora would be upset if I made them leave, whether they were killers or not.”
“Probably,” Anthony agreed. “But she’s not here and I am. I think they should go.”
“The cops questioned them and didn’t give me any signs I should be worried.”
“How do you know they didn’t show up, put the body in your vehicle, and then knock on your door?”
“That could have happened, I suppose,” I said. “But I really don’t think so. Why would they stick around?”
“To gloat?”
“Wouldn’t they be hanging around then? Gloating?”
Anthony exhaled loudly. “Listen, I’m not going to tell you what to do. This was supposed to be your girls’ weekend, and I’m here ruining it, so it’s your choice. I think they should go – but if you don’t kick them out, then I’ll sleep in here with you. Those are your options.”
“Guess you’re not moving anywhere,” I said, stretching out on the bed.
Anthony lay down next to me. “How does a girl as small as you manage to take up so much room in the bed?”
I couldn’t contain the smile. “That is so sweet!”
“Sweet?”
“You said I’m small.”
“You weigh what, a quarter of what I weigh?” Anthony asked, his gaze cautious.
“You have no idea how to estimate a woman’s weight, but I’ll take it,” I said, pulling the covers up over my legs. I moved over a bit to give Anthony enough room. “Thank you for coming here. And thank you for staying.”
“I don’t want to get on Meg’s bad side, so as soon as your three strange man friends set out in the morning, I’ll head out, too. If you’d like.”
I didn’t have a response ready. Part of me still didn’t want Anthony to leave. I could blame it on my fear that there was a killer on the loose, but even I knew that wasn’t the real reason. If I was being honest, I just liked his company.
“You don’t have to go,” I found myself saying before I could stop.
“We’ll see in the morning,” Anthony said, curling me in tight, wrapped up in his arms.