by Marci Bolden
“And you always said tai chi was boring.”
“Well…” Okay, he had said that. “I’ve changed my mind. I’d like to take some classes and learn more.”
The stress between them seemed to ease as she smiled. “Yeah. Okay. I can set you up.”
“Think you could show me a few moves in the meantime?”
Eva stared at him for a few moments before standing. “Help me move the coffee table. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Once they had enough space, she ran her hands down his arms. Josh swallowed hard when her touch caused his hormones to amp up as his body confused the situation and automatically started preparing for sex. Another situation he’d like to help control. On an instinctual level that he couldn’t suppress, his body recognized Eva as a potential mate. Just being near her made his levels of reproductive hormones increase.
He took a breath as he imagined her frowning and demanding he speak in layman’s terms.
Horny.
Being this close to Eva made him horny, and he couldn’t help it. And having her stroke her hands down his arms was an automatic signal to his body that he should prepare to mount and breed her.
“Josh,” she stated firmly in his ear.
“Huh?”
She peered up at him. “Are you okay?”
“Yup,” he said, ignoring the way her vanilla scent wafted up to him and made him want to snatch her up and carry her to the bedroom. He could, too. He’d done it before. Scooped her tiny frame up into his arms as if she weighed nothing as he rushed to his bedroom. He’d tossed her down, and they’d rolled around, laughing and teasing as they pulled at each other’s clothes. Then they’d made love so fierce his neighbor had banged on the wall and told them to knock it off.
“Feet shoulder-width apart, or you’re going to fall on your ass,” she warned, reminding him that they’d been in the middle of something before his mind had wandered.
Oh. Right. Tai chi. Standing beside him, she mimicked the pose. Moving her arms in a circle, she pressed her palms together and brought them to her chest as she gracefully bent her knees.
“Rise as you breathe in,” she said in a soft, soothing tone he rarely heard from her. “Sink as you breathe out.”
He tried to focus on doing as she said, but damned her velvety voice. She touched him, her palm against his back as the other pressed to his upper chest, and he had to swallow hard yet again.
“Don’t bend. All the movement is in your arms and knees.” She eased her hold, stepping back, and he wanted to lean forward again just so she’d correct him. “Rise,” she said. “Sink.”
He did the move several times.
“Nice. Want to try something a bit more difficult?”
“I could barely nail down bending my knees.”
She laughed but didn’t heed his warning. “Try this.”
With a grace Josh had never possessed, Eva smoothly swung her arms and stretched out one leg, then brought them both to center, lifting her knee chest-high.
“I can’t do that,” he insisted.
“You can. Watch.” She did the same move with the other leg. “Now you try.”
Josh planted his feet, moved his arms, and then lifted his knee. And immediately started toppling over. Eva pressed her hands to his arm, laughing as she steadied him. His heart lifted as, for just a moment, he was transported back to how they used to be. Fun. Relaxed. Silly. Easygoing.
Perfect.
“You have to move in time with your breath so your core keeps you balanced. Try again.” This time she stood close, helping him move slowly, encouraging him to take a long, deep breath and then let it out slowly. “Nice,” she whispered when he finished the posture without falling over.
Planting his feet on the floor, he smiled down at her. He liked having her so close he could feel her body heat escaping her and smell the scent of the shampoo she used to keep the sheen of her hair from dulling against the chemically treated city water. Once again, Josh was tempted to pull her closer, but she took a big step back, saving them both from his primal need.
“Okay,” she said, spreading her feet far apart. “Try this one.”
She put him through several more postures before declaring he had enough to get started on cultivating his life energy. Moving into the kitchen, she pulled out a whole chicken and set it on the counter. “I thought we’d try chimichurri roast chicken tonight.”
“Sounds good. Want help?”
“Wash and cut the veggies?” she asked, pulling a paper bag with a local grocer’s logo from the fridge.
Inside he found rainbow carrots and baby potatoes of various colors along with some onions and other fresh ingredients. “So what’s next in your case?”
She seemed hesitant to answer, focusing on rinsing the chicken. “There’s something about Shane Tremant I don’t like. Just because his key wasn’t a camera doesn’t take him off my list. Melly, the woman from the dessert table, doesn’t have a very high opinion of his wife, either. I’d like to get my own read on her.”
“And Courtney?”
“She didn’t have too much to say about the Tremants, but she certainly doesn’t like Neal Price. She says he’s worthless and the only reason he is president of the HOA is because Shane convinced people to vote for him. She said if we have any issues, it’s best to deal with them on our own.”
“That actually seems pretty typical of how HOAs work, doesn’t it?”
She chuckled as she put the chicken on a sheet pan. “Hand me the olive oil, please.” He did, and she drizzled it over the skin.
“What should I do now?”
She nodded toward her phone. “Check the recipe.”
Flipping her phone over, he smiled at the background image. Still a picture of the two of them. She’d taken the shot after they’d gorged on what a local magazine had dubbed the area’s best hamburgers. They were full and content and had smiled brightly as she leaned back against his chest and angled the camera to get the restaurant’s sign standing proudly behind them. He fucking loved that picture. Seeing it now made his heart ache.
“Find it?” she asked.
He tapped on the browser icon, and it opened to the recipe. “Yup. I need to cut the carrots lengthwise, and you get to find the food processor to make the chimichurri sauce.”
She scoffed. “I thought you were making the sauce.”
“I’m pouring the wine.”
She glanced back as he grabbed a chilled bottle of sauvignon blanc and two glasses. “Fair enough.”
Josh focused on twisting the corkscrew into the bottle as he watched her bending to peer into cabinet after cabinet before pulling out the food processor. After pouring the wine, he leaned back, content to soak in the normalcy surrounding them.
5
Eva sat in her inconspicuous black sedan for seventy-five minutes before Tiffany Tremant left the spa, looking no more or less perfect than she had walking in. This was one seriously pampered housewife. Before the spa, she’d sat with a group of women sipping coffee in an upscale chain coffeehouse. They’d then perused several boutiques before parting ways, pecking each other’s cheeks like perfectly primped hens. Eva was waiting for her chance to pounce on Tiffany alone, but the woman had disappeared into one of those strange and frightening places that did manis, pedis, and other overly feminine things.
Eva avoided those with everything she had. She didn’t mind painting her nails or wearing makeup if needed, but she certainly didn’t go out of her way to look cutesy. She saved that for Tika and Sam. Once a month, the HEARTS spent a Saturday together just to bond as a team. No matter what event they planned—just lunch or training at the firing range—Tika and Sam always ended the day with manis and pedis. They invited the rest of the group, but other than Alexa, who occasionally decided to get her stubby nails painted, no one else ever took them up on their offer.
Tiffany walked several stores down, in the opposite direction from where she’d parked her car, so Eva didn’t pull
hers from the curb. Instead she made a note in her book and pressed the button on her cell phone to activate the walkie-talkie app. “She’s headed down the street. I’m following on foot.”
“Check in in five,” Holly replied over the phone.
“Yes, ma’am,” Eva said, pushing her car door open. She stepped out into the sun as a breeze whipped her long hair around her. She wanted to pull the mass back into a messy bun to keep it from her face, but the shops where Tiffany Tremant was spending her time and money didn’t really support the don’t-give-a-fuck style.
Following her into a little boutique, she scanned the room, spotting her in the lingerie section holding up a bright red bra and panty set. Eva immediately flashed the image of Shane Tremant licking his lips with excitement. Her stomach rolled. Violently.
A shudder rolled through her, and she made a face. Yuck.
She forced the vision from her mind and scanned the clothing with feigned interest. She smiled and turned down the offer for help from an overly attentive worker as she made her way toward where Tiffany was now holding up a black slip of a nightgown. Clearly that was not intended for sleeping.
Mrs. Tremant had seduction on her mind. Eva had to wonder if her intended target was her husband after all. But she wasn’t undercover to catch an adulteress in action. She was there to catch a voyeur, and this woman’s husband was high on her list. She didn’t care whom Tiffany slept with. She cared about getting more insight into the inner workings of the Jupiter Heights Condominium Unit Association.
She glanced up, as if seeing Tiffany for the first time, and plastered a bright smile on her face. “Hi,” she cooed in the way fake perky women tended to do. She snapped her fingers and rolled her eyes, pretending to think. “Oh, shoot. I’m so bad with names.”
Easing the satin and lace back onto the rack, Tiffany put her sorority sister mask firmly in place—the forced smile that seemed far too perfect. Pressing freshly manicured fingertips to her chest, landing on a trio of thin gold chains in varying lengths, she batted her false eyelashes. Apparently nothing about this woman was real. “Tiffany Tremant. You’re Eva, right?”
“I am.” She held her hand out, but Tiffany waved as if to dismiss the greeting and wrapped her fingers lightly around Eva’s shoulders, pressing their cheeks together and smacking an air kiss loudly in her ear.
“We’re Jupiter Heights family now,” she purred as she leaned back. Her smile spread even more, and she batted her eyelashes even faster. “Family doesn’t shake hands.”
Eva giggled. “How nice.”
“You’re new to the area, right? I think that’s what Neal told Shane.”
Eva blinked her own eyes, as if connecting dots in her head. Of course she knew who Neal and Shane were, but she wasn’t about to let on. “Oh, Neal Price.” She giggled again. “Sorry. Like I said, I’m bad with names.” She made a show of creasing her brow. “Did I meet Shane?”
“My husband.” Tiffany put her hand on Eva’s. “Big guy. You were staring at him during the potluck the other day.”
Eva bulged her eyes in a genuine show of shock. People didn’t often surprise her, but Tiffany’s blatant accusation did. “I was?”
There was a hint of malice in Tiffany’s eyes, but she quickly covered it. “According to him. Then again, he thinks everyone is staring at him.”
An uncomfortable laugh left Eva. Melly hadn’t been kidding about Tiffany Tremant. Something odd flickered behind the social-butterfly facade. Curiosity, perhaps. Was she testing to see if Eva would confess to being interested in her husband? “Why would people stare at him? If you don’t mind my asking.”
She seemed to relax a bit. “They’re not, but he thinks the world is in love with him. Have you ever shopped here before?”
“No. I was just browsing, really.”
“Nonsense.” She skimmed over Eva’s basic black suit.
As a PI, she needed to blend in. Everything she and her team did was right down the middle. Straight mediocre. No wild clothes. No crazy hairdos. Blending in was their intention. Eva did that well. Tiffany Tremant clearly didn’t approve.
“You need…a few new things.” She wriggled her fingers in the air as if summoning a pack of perfectly coifed French poodles. Funnily enough, several salesgirls came running, practically tripping over themselves to get to her first.
Tiffany was almost a foot taller than Eva and easily draped her arm over Eva’s shoulder as she steered her toward the back of the store. “It’s obvious you like more neutral colors, but Eve”—apparently the uh syllable was too much work?—“we need to incorporate some color into your world. Do you work, or…” She trailed the words off and batted her eyes.
“I’m a librarian.” That was the backstory she and HEARTS had concocted, and she felt fairly confident it was a safe one. Few people seemed to know that libraries still existed, let alone wanted to have a long discussion about what being a librarian entailed.
Tiffany’s brow almost creased, but the tight skin fought to remain in place. “How can you possibly afford a condo at Jupiter Heights?”
Ugh. Smug bitch. “My boyfriend is a doctor.”
She puckered her lips and made a cooing sound like she’d just heard the most adorable thing. “Oh, honey, you should marry him before he gets away.”
Eva simply smiled. Wow. She’d thought women like that only existed in novels. “And you?”
She giggled. “My job is supporting my husband in his endeavors so he can be as successful as possible. This”—she gestured around the boutique—“is where I buy my uniforms. Socializing is my specialty. I don’t want to brag”—however, she was clearly going to—“but I made him the man he is. He owns two car dealerships, several rental properties, and recently ventured into home security.”
Home security? That was interesting, considering he was so tight with Neal Price, who admitted to having shit for security at the condo he was so desperately trying to preserve.
Eva smiled and blinked rapidly. “Home security? You mean like door alarms or cameras or what?”
She rolled her eyes. “Oh, I don’t listen to any of that. I just make certain he knows the right people, attends the right events, and dresses the right way. Which brings me back to you.”
“Me?”
Pinching her fingers together, she creased her brow, clearly working against a strong dose of Botox. “You have lovely features and beautiful hair. Just a bit more effort in your appearance would make all the difference.” Lifting Eva’s strands, she tsked. “Next stop, my beautician. Someone needs a trim. Trust me, Eve, you don’t want a man who puts you in a condo at Jupiter Heights to get away.” Her eyes took a bit of a hard edge. “You must be careful. There are always women trying to snag a man like that. Even if he is taken.”
Eva put on an air of sad innocence, but she saw a glimpse of what Courtney and Melly had warned her about at the potluck. Tiffany Tremant was very possessive of her husband. Not because of her husband but because he was her ticket to the lifestyle she wanted to remain accustomed to.
Tiffany called to the salesgirls to bring in some clothes for Eva to try, the touch of a threat in her gaze gone as quickly as it had appeared. As soon as she was alone, Eva tapped out a text to Holly.
Checking in from boutique hell. If you don’t hear from me in an hour, bring me an oversize sweater and some Chucks.
Holly immediately responded. Who’s Chuck?
Eva rolled her eyes. Never mind, Hol.
She tucked her phone into her pocket just as the door opened and a rack was pushed in. A rack. As in a metal frame filled with outfits. Eva’s smile was as fake and frozen as Tiffany’s had been during the potluck. “Wow. That’s…a lot of clothes.”
Tiffany barely seemed to be able to contain her excitement. For the first time, her smile looked genuine. She was definitely doing what she was passionate about. She looked over the selections before choosing a light blue sundress with multicolored abstract flower designs spattered across the material.
“This one first. I love this.”
Eva wanted to disagree, but she needed information from Mrs. Tremant. She needed to earn her trust so she could worm her way into some answers. Playing dress-up, she suspected, was the most direct way to whatever remained of Tiffany’s heart.
Joshua bit his tongue, not wanting to point out that Eva was late as the door slammed behind her. She could have called. She’d known he would be cooking dinner. She could have texted. But he wasn’t going to start a fight about it. That was pointless. He already knew how that fight would go. He’d say she should have called. She’d say she didn’t answer to him. He’d say it was a matter of respect. She’d say if he wanted her respect, he’d better start showing her some.
So, no, he wasn’t going to even start.
Instead, he took a slow pull from his beer to curb the words trying to push out of his mouth. Her shoes clicked on the floor as she crossed the room. He considered that for a moment. Her shoes clicked? Eva wore soft-soled shoes that wouldn’t be heard when sneaking up on a perp—suspect. Her shoes didn’t click.
She stopped at the end table, and he nearly choked on the drink sliding down his throat. If not for her piercing eyes and the hands-on-her-tiny-hips posture, he might not have recognized her. Her light red hair had been highlighted with streaks of gold, and her outfit was…not Eva.
“Laugh, and I’ll box your ears so hard they’ll never stop ringing,” she warned.
Yeah. That was definitely Eva.
“I’m not laughing,” he said as he stared at the long slit in her sundress. The pale skin of her thigh poked through the parted pink material. Her long hair had a newer, more fashionable cut. Layers, or so he thought they were called, angled in toward her long neck, reminding him how soft the skin there was against his lips.
The heels on her feet all but begged him to release the straps and ease them off so he could massage her arches and earn one of those little moans of appreciation he loved so much. When they were dating, his favorite way to unwind after a long day was to sink into her oversize tub, him on one end, her on the other, and talk about their days as he washed her legs and feet.