Her hands moved from his neck to his chest, unbuttoning his shirt. When she had the entire shirt unbuttoned, still kissing him, she ran her hands over his chest.
She pulled back, looking at him. “Oh, my. Mmm…under stuffy clothes is a great…body.” Her words still slurred as she spoke.
Tom laughed, feeling his face warm. “I have to work out my angst somewhere.”
“Well…you’re doin’ great.” She released a soft groan. “God, why couldn’t I have met you in college?”
“I’m here now.”
She sighed and dropped her head to his shoulder, and he wondered if she’d passed out. She had drunk enough to keep her high tonight and into tomorrow even.
“Why…why are you here, Tom?”
He tilted his head to the side to look at her. “I asked you to marry me, didn’t I?” he said, laughing. “And you said, yes, remember? I couldn’t leave you after proposing to you. What kind of husband would that make?”
She smacked his chest with her hand, but her hand fell away as though she didn’t have enough strength to hold it up. “Stop teasing me…” She rolled out of his arms and stood…well, tried to stand, then stumbled to the side of the deck.
He jumped up. “Where’re you going, Shelby? You’re going to fall.” He came up behind her as she fell against the railing, grabbing her drink. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”
“No one tells me when I’ve had ’nuff.” She turned at the same time she lifted the glass to her lips, draining every drop in one gulp. “Now ’m finished.” She smacked the glass onto the railing and fell against his chest, moving her hands up his opened shirt. She tilted her head back, obviously wanting him to kiss her again.
How could he resist? He closed his mouth over hers a second time, only this time with more power, knowing her lips were the one thing that didn’t hurt. She opened wider, inviting him.
His tongue danced with hers, tasting the moonshine. It didn’t taste so bad; actually, it tasted sweet. He deepened the kiss as her hands squeezed his chest. A passion roared through him as she pressed her entire body against his.
Sighing, he pulled back. “Let’s go to my car.”
She nodded, so he pulled her up into his arms and carried her back to the car, knowing that her walking abilities were nearly impossible at this point.
After he placed her inside and jumped behind the driver’s seat, he opened the moonroof and reached for her over the console, once again taking her lips. They couldn’t do anything in the front seat, so he was safe from taking advantage of her, as he’d wanted to do on the porch, with her body grinding up against his.
He pulled back after he’d been so caught up in the kiss that his hands had started to wander, seemingly by their own will. Shelby collapsed back onto the seat, releasing a soft breath, and then turned her head to him, smiling.
He lifted his hand to her face, delighting in her silky skin beneath his calloused palm. How he missed the feel of a woman.
His heart raced as he battled with the thought of feeling her entire body below his. Even if it were possible, which it wasn’t in her current condition, he hadn’t asked her the most important question yet, and right now, she was on the next best thing to truth serum.
He had to know. “Shelby, did you kill Carlin?”
She closed her eyes. “I drugged him.”
Chapter Sixteen
Shelby opened her eyes, but her surroundings were fuzzy, as if she were trying to see through a foggy day.
She tried to make sense of what she saw, but her brain didn’t want to cooperate. She eyed the muscular arms surrounding her, the crisp white sheet wrapped around her body, and the specks of light peeking through the edges of the curtains.
Not her pure white sheers, dark blue industrial-style drapes with ugly tan squares. She lifted her head to see a faux-wood nightstand with a cheap alarm clock on top, staring back at her. Four o’clock according to the bright-red numbers that seemed to wobble as though doing a dance, or maybe it was her vision.
Based on the pinpricks of light, it wasn’t dark outside, so it had to be the middle of the afternoon. A familiar whir buzzed in her head. Recognizing the sound, she scrutinized the rectangular room for the source. Her gaze fell on an air conditioner unit beneath a large picture window.
A hotel room. Oh, my God!
She jumped out of bed and was happy to see she still had clothes on. Not that it mattered since she’d chosen to wear the shortest skirt she owned last night.
“What on God’s great earth?” she screamed.
Tom bolted upright in bed. “What happened?” he asked, looking around the room.
“Where the hell are we?” she demanded.
He ran his hands through his hair. “Oh, boy. I should have known. I thought you’d finally sobered up.”
Shelby threw her hands over her face, as if that’d change the fact that she was in a hotel room with Tom.
“Oh, God. Please tell me we didn’t do anything. I’m not on birth control. I haven’t been with anyone since I got pregnant with Justin, and I get pregnant too easy,” she cried.
The springs of the bed squeaked, letting her know that Tom had got out of bed too, but she couldn’t uncover her eyes, couldn’t see him. He pulled her hands away from her face.
Tom stood in front of her shirtless. She was afraid to look down. “Shelby, you honestly don’t remember anything?”
She covered her eyes again. “No! Oh, God. I’ll be pregnant.”
He moved her hands away again. “Would that be such a bad thing? After all, we’re married. You mean to tell me you don’t remember that either?”
Shelby glanced at her hand, and sure enough, a wedding ring set sat proudly on her left ring finger. “Oh, Tom! What on earth did we do?”
He sat on the bed and pulled her onto his lap. “I had to marry you, Shelby.” He brushed the hair away from her face and cupped her cheek. “You told me you killed Carlin. So the only way I could keep you safe was to marry you. I understand why you did it, but now they can never make me testify against you. ’Course, I’ll probably get disbarred.”
She shook her head, trying to understand the situation. “I didn’t kill Carlin.”
“You told me you drugged him.”
“With four Benadryl! But my attorney already knows that. I didn’t kill him!” She jumped off his lap, but then her head screamed in pain. She had a hangover on top of the fact that she was married to another rich boy and probably pregnant. She collapsed onto the opposite bed and dropped her head into her hands, crying.
The bed dipped as he sat down beside her again, but she couldn’t look at him.
“Shelby,” he pulled her head up, “you’re not pregnant.”
She glared at him through her tears. “How do you know?”
“Because we didn’t have sex. I married you because I didn’t want to testify against you, not because I wanted sex. After what that woman said, and then you telling me you drugged him… But I swear… I thought you were awake. We walked into the courthouse as soon as they opened this morning and then drove right to a chapel, had breakfast, and then came here and passed out after staying up all night talking. I couldn’t let you go to sleep in case you had a concussion, so I stayed up with you all night.” He shook his head. “You honestly don’t remember any of that?”
She shook her head, then rested it on his shoulder.
Tom pulled her closer. “I couldn’t lose you,” he whispered into her ear. “I just found you.”
“I don’t understand, Tom. Why would you do all this?” she said into his shoulder.
He caressed her hair gently and waited until she looked up at him again. “Because you don’t deserve what you’ve gone through, and…I don’t know... I just…couldn’t lose you.”
He kissed her head and wrapped both his arms around her. “And besides, you agreed to marry me before you were even drunk. Do you remember that?”
She smiled, but then huffed out a breath. “Th
at was a joke.”
“Maybe to you,” he offered.
Shelby moved her hands through her hair and sat up again, staring at the half-dressed stranger next to her. He was gorgeous, sweet, and had an incredible body. She shook her head to banish the ridiculous thoughts, as if they would ever be possible, but then noticed the tattoo on his upper arm. Her fingers traced the design. “It’s beautiful. Original.”
Tom dropped his gaze to the rustic-looking cross. The design was of three roman nails with a vine of thorns twined around them; it was so lifelike. Different shades of color brushed the nails, making them look ancient. “Yeah. I designed it. I didn’t like anything they had. The man was an artist in the truest sense of the word. I drew him what I wanted, but he made it come to life.”
“So, you’re a Christian and an artist?”
He laughed. “I can sketch, nowhere close to an artist. As far as a Christian,” he made quote marks in the air, “I’ve been a Christian since I was nine, but I’m ashamed to say I wasn’t living like it. After the situation with Brandy, I thought I was going to die, though. My friend I told you about, Chad. We give each other a hard time, but he helped me. If it weren’t for him, I probably would have died. And my niece, Sam…do you remember talking about her?”
Shelby smiled and shrugged. “I’m sorry. Just barely.
“It’s okay, I guess, but now I won’t know what to tell you and what not. We talked all night, Shelby. That is some rough stuff you drank.” He shook his head. “Anyway, having Sam and Turner and even my sister counting on me, gave me a reason to keep going. I had so much guilt, always wondering if I could have done anything else. But Cassandra was the only person who could extinguish my guilt, since she’d been there. She reminded me that Brandy would have killed her. I could have left the house, but I couldn’t have saved both of us. And Brandy kept coming, as if something had snapped in her head. I warned her not to come up the stairs, and she kept coming, and then she took aim…I had no choice.”
Shelby exhaled deeply. “It sounds as though you’ve had it rough too, Tom—”
“That’s the thing…” He turned toward her. I haven’t. I was born with the proverbial silver spoon. I’ve never wanted for anything, cared about anyone…” He shook his head. “Now that I think about it, I was a real piece of work. Honestly. The thing that clicked was when I couldn’t get the woman I wanted.”
“Brandy? I thought she was your fiancée.”
Tom pushed out a fake laugh, one that made it clear that he didn’t think it was funny at all. “Well, she was…but maybe for the wrong reason. She wasn’t the woman I wanted; I wanted Cassandra.”
“Your best friend’s wife?”
Tom dropped his head. “Told you I was a piece of work…but then I realized…I was wrong, and then I just wanted what they had.” He released a long breath as though he were just working through the situation. “I jumped with Brandy…but it’s been over a year, and I’ve changed. The dates I’ve gone on since then…they’re different. If I’m not interested in more than a few dates, I leave it at that. I don’t try to get something out of them, as I did before.”
“So…I take it you’re interested in more than a few dates with me, then? Since you married me, because I was thinking we need to go get an annulment immediately.”
Tom’s mouth fell open. “I’ve not been married twelve hours and you want to turn me into a divorced man already?”
“Tom, you can’t be serious. We can’t stay married.”
He cupped the side of her face. “Shelby, I haven’t wanted a woman my entire life as I want you…and I don’t mean sex…” He raised his hand to his heart. “Here…I ache for you here, and I’ve never experienced anything like this. It’s not going to change.” He leaned toward her, and her heart leapt in her chest. “Do you remember our kiss…rather, kisses…last night?”
She gulped, shaking her head.
“So I’m going to have to start completely from scratch.” He sighed. “Oh well, a second first kiss sounds good to me. Although, by my count we’re at hundreds.”
Shelby giggled and he leaned toward her. “Wait! I have to brush my teeth.”
Tom fell animatedly back onto the bed. “You’re killing me.”
She jumped off the bed and ran into the tiny bathroom, hoping they had toothpaste. They did. She quickly washed her face and did her best to clean her mouth out with her fingers. After she finished, she gawked at herself in the mirror for the first time and gasped, a small scream escaping her throat as tears ran down her face.
Tom knocked on the door seconds later. “Are you okay?”
“No.”
“Shelby, what happened?” He opened the door, obviously assuming she was decent. “What is it?”
“Look at me. I got married like this?” But what she was really thinking was that he’d said all those wonderful things to her, even when she could have played the lead zombie in The Walking Dead.
“You’re beautiful, Shelby.”
She shook her head and he pulled her toward him, his arms squeezing her against his body as if he’d never let her go. Who was this man, and what had she done to deserve the way he was treating her? She didn’t deserve this.
He leaned back to look at her. “I don’t want to stop holding you, but I guess I need to brush my teeth too. Please go sit down and don’t think of anything for two minutes.” He nudged up her chin. “Can you do that? No thoughts…just forget everything for two minutes, okay? I’ll be right out.”
She nodded and left the bathroom and went to sit on the bed alone, trying to dispel her thoughts. Tom, Tom, Tom, she thought over and over. Nothing else, just Tom. Great body, sweet, kind…good looking, rich—scratch that, she didn’t care about rich. Great body, Tom, Tom, Tom.
She used the same method she used when her brain wouldn’t turn off at night. She’d repeat the word ‘sleep’ in her head continuously until she finally succumbed out of sheer exhaustion or forgot what had been plaguing her in the first place.
After she’d said his name in her head about a hundred times, he stepped out of the bathroom. He walked toward her, still shirtless. Great body, Tom, she thought again.
He leaned over, scooped her up, and repositioned her in the middle of the bed. He hovered over her for a second, then locked eyes with her before he pressed his lips against hers.
Soft and full, his mouth worked with hers, exploring, tantalizing, making her body feel as though it would melt through the bed. Suddenly, she felt like a big puddle of nothing, as if her limbs had detached from her body. But then, as though knowing what they were supposed to do, she moved her hands over his back. He let out a groan as she ran her hands over his shoulders and the back of his arms.
Good Lord, he had a beautiful body. Normally she wouldn’t keep thinking about that aspect, but it’d been almost three years since she’d had sex, and never had she felt such an incredibly hard body above her.
He pulled back and flashed a grin. “Nothing? Don’t remember any of that?”
She returned his smile. “It’s slowly coming back.”
He claimed her mouth again, moving his hands behind her neck and pulling her closer. He moved away from her mouth and travelled lower on her neck and across her collarbone, and then over her shoulder.
He buried his head deep in her neck and inhaled. “You still smell good,” he murmured. “You know…” he trailed off, continuing to plant kisses on her neck and then sucked softly, but not enough to leave any marks. He ran his free hand down her arm while the other one still gripped behind her neck. “We are technically married,” he whispered as he nibbled on her ear.
She gulped a breath of air, as a current of heat rushed through previously dormant parts of her body. “Uh…technically, yes…but…” It was hard to think with the heat of his breath on her neck. “But…umm…”
He raised his head, narrowing his gaze as though surveying her. “I’m clean, Shelby. I had to have a medical exam when I was hired at the firm, and
I haven’t been with a woman in almost two years.” His mouth returned to hers.
“Well, that’s good, but…” she spoke under his kisses, and he lifted his head again, smiling.
“Shelby.” He stroked the side of her face. “We’re not going to do anything. I just want to kiss you. I only wanted to see if I still had it in me.”
She pushed him off, and he fell onto his back, pulling her up on top of him. “Yes, you have it in you, but I think I can resist that charm of yours, Tom Turner.”
He grabbed her and pulled her face to his, kissed her once, then pushed her back. “Resist all you want; I can wait. Because I’m not getting an annulment until we give this a chance.”
Chapter Seventeen
Bearns approached the cashier and set his coffee on the counter, pulling out his wallet. “Give me fifty of regular on pump three.” The newspaper caught his eye, and he smiled. “Ring up a paper too.”
As he walked out of the store, he gave the parking lot a quick once-over before walking to his truck. After opening the door to put his coffee in the cup holder and the newspaper on the seat, he returned to pump his gas, leaving the door open in the event he needed to make a quick getaway.
The ten years he’d worked in the big city had etched a permanent fight or flight mentality in his brain. There was no thought once a threat approached, only action, and he was always ready.
Bryson City was small, but the town still had its share of crime. As a private investigator, he’d gone mostly to working disability and false injury claims, and the occasional call from a few law firms he worked with to question witnesses after the police did.
But his current case, which had started as a typical infidelity incident, had turned into a ‘missing persons’ case that didn’t look as though it’d have a cheerful outcome.
He’d thought that going private would save him from having to pull dead bodies out of houses, lakes, and shallow graves, but often, he got more action privately than he did as a detective. Yeah, he doubted there’d be a joyful reunion of a loved one who simply had dementia and lost their way home. Nope. Something was up at the Castles’ residence.
When Noonday Ends: A Southern Romantic-Suspense Novel - Nantahala - Book Two Page 9