by Jean Oram
She tucked her arms around Moe’s waist, setting her head against his chest. What she had with him, those moments when she let go and didn’t think, felt a lot like what she believed love might feel like. A contented peace inside her where everything just felt big and wonderful and wholly right in her world.
But if this was love, then why wasn’t she freaking out and looking for the door?
Because real love didn’t make you want to run, it made you want to settle in and enjoy it. Love with someone you trusted, someone you wanted to spend every hour with, was the very definition of contentment, wasn’t it?
“I’ll miss you stealing the blankets,” Moe said, his voice full of affection as he placed his chin on the top of her head. “Shall we set you up in your room again?”
His voice was cheery, and as she slid from his arms, her contentment waned and worries set in. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if this time there might be a way to give each other what they needed in order to make it past whatever had held them back the last time.
Maybe this time they could figure out how to find love. Together.
Moe paced the brew room before leaving the pub for the night. There was no reason for him to be in here, but as he’d been waiting for Amy to finish mopping the hallway he’d begun to fear he was going to kiss her, make love to her, make things way too real. And not just because of the sweet pirate look she had going on with her eye patch, freckles and wavy hair. That contradictory combo had definitely amped things up inside him.
No, it was more about the look she’d given him when her bed had been returned the day before yesterday. The way she’d fitted into his arms and relaxed, as if there was nowhere else on the planet that she belonged. As if she was solely his, heart and soul. For a brief moment there’d been nothing held back, and he’d seen the flash of emotion in her eyes, a look that had echoed how he felt inside.
He didn’t want to lose her. He didn’t want her to run, to leave him like she had so many times before, because this time, somewhere along the line, he’d let go and fallen for her. And he knew what happened to men who fell in love with Amy.
There was one very good reason that she’d married him. Because he was safe. He wasn’t going to fall for her and complicate matters.
But he had. When she’d said that if he found true love he could leave her, it had hurt. It had actually physically hurt as if someone was sliding something sharp into his chest. She hadn’t even considered that he’d already found what she’d been talking about.
It was possible that she felt the same way, but was too afraid to say anything, to make a move. Sometimes he felt as though she wanted to say to heck with their rules and go all out and see where it led.
Was she just afraid? Or was hope simply blinding him in a very major way, twisting reality so it fit what he wanted?
“Completed your end-of-day checklist?” she called from the doorway.
“In record time.” He turned, catching her with the eye patch and mop. “Finishing swabbing the decks, matey?”
She flipped up the patch, leaving a red mark circling her eye. “I’m done with this thing. You know how many jokes I got tonight about being a pirate?”
“Besides mine?”
“Besides yours.”
“I think it’s cute. Adorable.” Sexy.
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be ready in two.” She disappeared to rinse out the mop.
Moe grabbed his keys and headed for the door, where he waited, his hand on the bank of light switches. Tonight would be the second one not sharing a bed with Amy. Last night he’d tossed and turned until his alarm went off. Then he’d pulled his groggy body out of bed to find Amy looking as defeated by her restless sleep as he was. She’d claimed her bed wasn’t the same anymore, but he knew what the problem was. They were sleeping alone.
Amy was checking things as she passed the cleared tables, dusting a fleck of something off one. Her patch was back over her eye, her lips upturned as she made her way toward him, graceful and beautiful. His.
He flipped off the lights.
“You’re such a jerk,” she grumbled as the room plunged into darkness.
“If I wait for you I will be waiting all night.”
“I’m five feet from the door!”
“Lock up,” he said, pushing his way outside. He held the door for her as she dug through her purse.
“Can you? I can’t find my keys. I must have left them on the bar or in the office, and I’m too tired to go back and look.”
“You sure Devon didn’t sneak off with them again?” Moe placed a hand on her lower back, ushering her out into the warm July night so he could lock up.
“I swear I’ve kept them tucked away since then. We don’t need more furniture going missing.”
“Maybe you need to leave your house keys in your purse, and put the pub keys on one of those coil string things around your wrist.” Less to lose, and easier to keep track of.
“I like that idea.”
“Have I mentioned lately that I am brilliant and a fabulous problem solver?”
“I don’t need to inflate that ego.”
He chuckled as he locked the pub, engaging its alarm system with his fob. It wouldn’t be long until dawn. They really were going to have to figure out how to handle their hours once they had kids.
“It’s a good thing I have you,” Amy said, as they walked to his truck.
“I love it when you’re right and admit to it.”
“You’re in full form tonight, aren’t you?”
“All I’m saying is that you got lucky in the marriage pledge department. Not a lot of women end up with a great guy like me. You should count your blessings.”
He opened the passenger side door for her, and she grasped his chin between her thumb and forefinger. The light kiss she gave him on the lips made his heart swell.
He’d do just about anything for more of those.
“I told you you’d soon be kissing me on the lips.”
“Well, if we’re going to be taking into account everything you say, then why don’t I see more women falling at your feet due to your amazing good looks?”
He ran a hand through his still-shorter-than-usual hair. “I’ve been beating them off when you’re not looking.”
“In your imagination?” she asked, full of pretend innocence.
He acted wounded as he closed the door for her and walked around the front of the truck, staggering as though clutching a knife pushed into his chest, and grasping the hood for support. He was rewarded with laughter.
He straightened and climbed into the driver’s seat.
“Although I could see some women swooning now, since you no longer have that crappy haircut.”
“I can’t believe you think my old haircut was crappy.”
She shifted in her seat to study him, reaching out to brush the hair at the back of his neck. The gentle touch sent shivers down his spine. “You were cute then. You’re handsome now.”
“Is that why I got a lip kiss?” He started the truck, feeling as though tonight had potential. The potential to go somewhere, cross new lines that they wouldn’t backtrack over.
“Maybe it’s because we’re actually getting out of the pub before dawn for once. Honestly, though, we are married. Spouses kiss.”
“Even marriage pledge spouses?”
“I can stop kissing you if you’d like.”
“I don’t want to curtail your hobbies. I’m not that kind of husband.”
She awarded him a laugh that filled the cab and lifted his heart.
“Cute babies, I tell you.”
“Speaking of babies,” she said with excitement, “did you hear the news? Mandy Mattson is pregnant!” Amy flattened her hands against her thighs and broke into a huge grin. “I can’t believe it. After all of those years of infertility and going so far as to adopt Axel, and now she’s pregnant.”
“That’s awesome. They must be pumped.” Moe shook his head, pleased for his old
high school friends.
“Mandy’s still in shock.”
“I’ll bet.”
He drove down the empty streets until he reached their own, only to spot a vehicle taking the corner to the next block too fast, its wheels squealing.
He shook his head, angered. “Seriously. How are we going to let our kids play on the street if there are yahoos ripping it up?”
“It’s the middle of the night. People drive nicely in the daytime.”
“They’d better,” Moe said, gripping the steering wheel. He parked in front of the house, his pickup being a tight fit in the double garage. At the moment he’d rather spend his energy concentrating on something else.
“Carry me,” Amy begged as she opened her door. “My feet are killing me.”
“Don’t be a baby.”
“I should pull out my orthopedic nursing shoes.”
Moe grimaced. “Those awful white leather old-lady shoes? Talk about a good way to reduce your tips.”
“People aren’t that shallow.”
“Experiment. I bet that your tips would be…” He paused to calculate some mental math. “…at least 20 percent higher if you wore heels over your old nursing shoes.”
Amy scoffed. “Get real.”
“Bet?” He turned, ready to shake her smooth hand.
“Yeah? What’s at stake?”
“Other than your sex appeal?”
“I’m a married woman. Sex appeal went out the door.”
Moe gestured to her eye patch. “Oh, trust me, your sex appeal hasn’t left the building.”
She put her hands on her hips, the pale light from a streetlight highlighting her cheekbones and perfect lips.
“Fine. I’ll wear heels for one shift. A Friday.”
Moe winced. Those were busy nights and her feet would be killing her by the end of it.
“You’ll wear the same outfit both nights to make sure there’s no bias in that regard?” He stooped to pick up their empty recycling bin from the curb.
“I’ll wear my Playboy bunny outfit both nights.” She began walking up the sidewalk and Moe couldn’t help but visualize what her backside would look like in the cute little black bodysuit and fluffy white tail.
“You have a bunny suit?” he asked, hurrying to catch up with her.
Amy stopped walking, and he stumbled into her. He dropped the plastic bin, his arms going around her to catch himself. “Will you wear your eye patch, too?”
She inhaled sharply, her body stiffening as he enjoyed the scent of her neck and hair. A nice blend of Amy and garlic butter from the kitchen.
Tonight was definitely full of potential.
“Moe?”
Something was wrong.
“Why is our front door open?”
10
Amy couldn’t stop shaking. When she’d lived alone it wouldn’t have been out of the question for her to forget to ensure the door was latched all the way, or even to lock it. But Moe always made sure the house was locked up, the windows closed and the stove burners turned off. Open doors did not happen under his watch even when he was tired or distracted by work.
“Were you the last one out of the house?” he asked gently, a slight teasing tone masking what she knew was unease.
“You locked up. I was tossing the recycling out on the curb.” She closed her eyes, feeling to blame even though she knew it hadn’t been her.
Moe already had his phone in hand. “I’m calling Scott.”
As much as Amy didn’t like the idea of getting their friend out of bed for what could be nothing, she really didn’t want to go into the house until someone who was trained in this sort of thing had checked it out.
“It’s probably nothing. I probably forgot.”
“You just said it was me.” Moe said into his phone, “Sorry to get you out of bed, Scott. Amy and I are pretty sure we locked the front door before going to work, and we just got home to find it wide open. She also couldn’t find her keys at the end of her shift.”
“They’re on the bar, right where I put them down while grabbing my jacket.” She gave Moe a dirty look. Her so-called missing keys were not related to this.
Amy was standing close enough she could hear Scott on the other end of the line. “Any evidence of foul play?”
She shivered and Moe put him on speaker as he replied, “We haven’t taken a close look. We’re still on the sidewalk.”
“Don’t go inside. I’m on my way.” Amy could hear him say something quietly in the background, likely to his wife, Amber, who had undoubtedly also been woken up by the call.
“Tell him I’m sorry. It’s probably fine. Stay in bed. It was likely just Devon sneaking in to pull another prank or something.”
Moe hesitated, then said to Scott, “We’ll wait for you. There was a car speeding off our street when we came home.”
“I’m already up and half dressed,” Scott said, obviously having heard them. “None of us are going to sleep if there’s any lingering doubt. Hang tight. I’ll be there in under five.”
Moe’s words about her keys had created doubt in Amy’s mind and she tried to think whether she’d had an eye on her keys all day. But the shifts and hours blended together and she wasn’t sure.
Moe went to tuck his phone into his pocket but then changed his mind, keeping it in his hand instead. He was nervous, something that made Amy even more anxious.
The street was quiet, empty. The vehicle that had squealed around the corner was now nothing more than a memory, and possibly a clue.
“Did you recognize the car?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Did you?”
“What make and model was it?”
“It was an SUV.”
“Ethan maybe?” she suggested. Their brother-in-law, the computer guru, would pull a prank on them, but after he’d had a car accident that was no fault of his own, Amy couldn’t really see him driving that recklessly, even on an empty street.
“You know how many SUVs there are around town? I know at least ten people with similar models. And his is a darker color.”
“Well, it was someone and maybe they broke in, or maybe they saw something.”
“Or maybe it’s a coincidence. We’ve been distracted and busy lately.”
Amy glanced around at the nearby houses. Nobody’s lights were on. No witnesses were on hand to help them out.
A bush rustled across the street and Amy stepped closer to Moe. He turned toward the sound and a chubby animal waddled out of the shrubs, its rounded flat tail dragging behind it.
“It’s just Beavis,” Moe said, letting out a breath as the local legend, a beaver, made his way across the street. He came out every spring and took a few trees from yards near the river, adding to his dam. He was an annoyance, but nobody seemed to mind too much.
Moments after Beavis vanished into a culvert, Scott pulled up in his police truck.
“Hey, guys. Anything new?”
They both shook their heads while Scott did a double take after seeing Amy.
“What happened to your eye?” He glanced at Moe. “That’s from the soda sprayer?” Scott winced and shook his head, easing toward the doorway, drawing his gun. He called into the house, identifying himself. Amy half hoped there were pranksters in there and that they were peeing their pants.
As Scott called out one more time, Amy tried not to giggle, knowing her reaction was ridiculous. But thinking of their friend acting all serious and ready to protect them felt silly somehow. She and Scott used to take turns acting silly in the school’s bear mascot costume during high school football games, in between sneaking sips of whiskey under the bleachers. It was still a bit strange to see Scott acting like an official adult with some sizeable responsibilities.
Scott checked out the house interior and returned to the entryway, holstering his gun. “All clear.” He crouched to examine the front door’s latch.
Moe had his arm around Amy and she shivered again.
“Did someone break
in?” Moe asked.
“Hard to say. These older locks are easy to pop without causing damage. They also don’t always latch properly.”
Moe had moved toward Scott, slowly disengaging from Amy, who clung to his hand. She felt the need to keep looking over her shoulder. When she got to the front door, she almost hoped to see the wood frame damaged by a crowbar, as having no signs of damage seemed eerier.
“Check for anything missing.” Scott stepped aside so Moe and Amy could do a walk-through.
Amy visually swept the front room, noting nothing missing or out of place. She hurried to her bedroom, checking for missing jewelry. She didn’t own anything fancy or expensive, mostly sentimental items or spontaneous drugstore purchases. Everything seemed to be in place, even her bed. Her tablet was still on the kitchen counter, nothing disturbed.
But still…something didn’t feel quite right. She couldn’t explain it. It was like the subtle smell of cigarette smoke lingering in the air, or the feeling that someone had been there, that something had been meddled with.
She met up with Moe by the front door. “Anything?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“Do you smell anything?”
Moe sniffed, and shook his head again. “Just your shampoo.” He smiled.
“No cigarette smoke?”
“Did you start up again?”
She shook her own head and rubbed her arms. She had imagined the scent then, as Moe, never a smoker, would have picked up on it immediately.
“Think that car was involved? Like there was a lookout who told them to get out?” She shivered once more, the thought of being watched making her feel as though her life and privacy had been invaded.
“If someone did enter, chances are they didn’t find what they wanted, or were interrupted. Do you want me to keep watch outside for the rest of the night?” Scott asked.
“I think we’re okay,” Moe said, giving Amy a squeeze. “But thanks. A few long nights have made us paranoid, probably.”