Now and Again (3 page)

“Oh, not much,” Layla mumbled, chewing quickly. “Mostly boring corporate stuff. I’ve been helping with some criminal defense work, that’s been fun.”

“Really?” Her mom smiled and raised her eyebrows. “I always pictured you on the other side, throwing the book at the criminals.”

Layla shrugged as she scraped plates into the trash can. “Nothing offends me like inequality,” she said.

“Hey, I’ll wash,” Emma said as she came into the kitchen. Of course, Cole was right on her heels.

“I’ll dry,” he said. Layla couldn’t help watching them side by side in front of the sink, Emma smiling up at Cole as she ran dishwater. He leaned his forehead down to hers and murmured something meant only for her.

Layla sighed as she turned away, stacking cookies into a container. She felt her mom’s eyes on her and willed her not to say anything.

Don’t ask if I’ve met anyone nice or gone on any dates. Just let it pass.

“I saw Corey Stephenson’s mother at my garden club meeting and she said he’s getting divorced,” her mom said, raising her brows expectantly at Layla.

“That’s too bad,” Layla said. “He’s a jackass and he was lucky Holly married him.”

“He was always a nice looking boy.”

“Ugh.” Layla made a face. “He’s got a porn-star mustache.”

Emma laughed from in front of the sink, but their mom rolled her eyes as she pointed a cardboard tin foil package at Layla.

“You should give him a chance,” she said sternly. “You never go out on dates anymore. Thinking you’re too good for everyone is a good way to end up alone.”

Annoyance flared inside Layla and she pursed her lips. It was Emma who turned around to defend her.

“Mom, why would she go out with a guy who’s going through a divorce? That’s a really bad idea.”

“And so what if I’m alone?” Layla said angrily. “What’s wrong with that?”

“I just want to see you happy,” her mom said, her face softening. “I thought you wanted to get married and have kids.”

“That wasn’t a well-thought out plan,” Layla said. “I’m too selfish to have kids. I work too much. And at this stage of my life, Prince is all the companionship I need.”

She waited, sure her mother would press the issue. Emma broke the silence when she turned around at the sink with a wide grin.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything yet, but I can’t wait!” she said.

She better not be engaged. Not after less than a year. There’s no way in hell I can pretend I’m happy over that. Not right after getting harassed for being alone. Don’t say it, Em.

“I want to open a bakery!” Emma said, her eyes shining. Layla exhaled deeply, relief washing over her.

“A bakery?” their mom asked, her voice rising with surprise.

“Yes! I’ll make all the amazing pastries I used to eat in France. And I want to sell art there, and have live music.”

“That’s a great idea, Em,” Layla said. “It sounds perfect for you.”

“Thanks. I’ve got some appointments to look at buildings this week.”

Layla was about to offer to go with her when she noticed Emma and Cole exchanging a quick smile. Of course, he’d be going with her. And three was definitely a crowd.

“I’m going home,” Layla said, reaching toward her mom for a hug.

“I’m glad you came, honey,” her mom said.

“Me, too.”

And oddly, she was. Surely spending time around the happy couple would eventually immunize her to the effects of their sweetness. Or she’d at least get better at pretending.

***

Prince was panting with exertion when Layla stopped at the mailbox on the way back into the apartment from their walk. It was Saturday, and they’d just finished their second walk of the hot, sunny day.

She filled up Prince’s water dish and he drank before flopping down on the air conditioning vent. As she thumbed through her mail, a plain white envelope that only said, ‘Layla’ in black marker caught her attention. How had it made it into her mailbox with no postage?

She pulled the single sheet of paper from the envelope and furrowed her brows. When she unfolded it, there were only a few words, but they made her heart beat faster.

I’m waiting you fucking whore.

She dropped the paper on the table, backing away from it. A frantic sensation built in her chest as she scanned every corner of her apartment. Someone had left that in her mailbox, which meant they had been here. It filled her with a sense of terror that made her grab the letter, her dog and her keys and run out the door, slamming it behind her.

She dropped Prince off with her neighbors across the hall, not telling them about the ominous note. After seeing the parade of men in and out of her apartment before she’d sworn off sex, they’d probably just nod in agreement if she showed it to them.

It wasn’t until she was in her car, with the engine running and all the doors locked, that she exhaled deeply with relief. But now where was she going? She considered going to Lane’s apartment, or the mall, but the terrified feeling would still be waiting when she got back home.

No, there was only one place that made sense. She sighed with resignation as she put the car in drive and headed for the police department.

The chairs in the waiting room were half-filled with an assortment of people including a young woman clearly fighting with her husband by phone, a mother and her two young children and an older man who stared stoically at the wall. Layla had been sitting there for 45 minutes, and she groaned inwardly as a man with a powerful garbage smell sat down next to her.

“Hi, there,” he said, grinning. He scratched his beard and Layla caught a whiff of something putrid. She smiled weakly, wondering if she was overreacting and should skip the police report.

“What?” the woman with purple streaks in her hair demanded into her cell phone. “Yeah, should have thought of that before you hit me, asshole!”

She shoved the phone back into her purse. Layla wanted to offer her some words of encouragement, and tell her to stick to her guns with filing the police report, but she knew it wasn’t her place.

The elevator doors opened and Layla’s pulse accelerated as Ben Montrose stepped out. He was alone, dressed in a crisp white shirt and a navy tie, and she stared as he crossed the lobby. He was heading for the exit door, and he glanced at the chairs on his way out, doing a double take when he saw her.

He strode over, and Layla grew conscious of her black yoga pants, pink tank top and neon tennis shoes. She hadn’t changed after her walk.

“Miss Carson,” Ben said with a slight smile. “Nice to see you again.”

She nodded, not meeting his eyes. “Nice to be back.”

“Is there something I can help you with?”

“I’m not here on business,” she said. “I guess I need to file a report.”

“What sort?”

“Can we maybe talk about it somewhere else?” she asked, looking up at him.

God, he’s hot. I wish I could grab his arms and see if they’re as rock hard as they look.

“Sure, let’s go down to my office.”

“Are you sure? It looked like you were leaving,” she said.

“Come on,” he said, gesturing towards the elevator. Layla was grateful to escape the smell next to her, and she hustled into the elevator behind him.

“Do you always work Saturdays?” she asked as they stood side by side, neither one looking at the other.

“No, we’re just really backed up right now in Investigations. People get a little wild in the summer.”

The doors opened, and he retrieved a magnetic key card from his pocket, using it to open the door to the hallway. Layla followed him to his office, where he keyed in a code on a keypad.

As she walked to her usual seat in front of the desk, she glanced at Ben and saw him looking her over. He sat down behind his desk, loosening his tie.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“When I checked my mail today, I found this.” She passed the envelope across the desk. Ben opened it and scanned the letter, his brows arching as he met her eyes. “I’m probably being a baby, but it scared me.” Her voice wavered and she cleared her throat.

“No, I can understand that.” The cocky swagger was gone, and his eyes were filled with concern. “Does anyone come to mind who would do this as a joke? An ex-boyfriend, maybe?”

“No. I gave up on dating almost seven months ago.”

“Gave up?”

“Yeah. I haven’t so much as looked at a man since last Christmas.”

Ben’s eyes twinkled for a second as he looked back at the letter. “I’ll see if we can get some prints from this. If we can, I’ll need to take yours for comparison.”

Layla sighed as she stared at the stark white wall. “I know there’s not much you can do.”

“Do you live alone?” he asked.

“Yes. Just me and my dog.”

“Do you have locks on all the windows and deadbolts on the doors?”

“I have a deadbolt,” she said. “I’m not sure about the windows.”

“Well, I’m about out of here anyway. Why don’t I come by and take a look? Just to see if your place is secure and if there’s anything we can do to maybe give you more peace of mind.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s Saturday and I’m sure you want to get home to your family.”

“I’m single,” he said. “I don’t mind at all.”

“Oh.” She was puzzled, her eyes darting unconsciously to the picture behind him. Ben followed her glance, smiling.

“That’s my sister and my nephews,” he said, grinning. “Come on, Miss Carson, I don’t bite.”

“Okay, sergeant,” she said softly. “But call me Layla.”

“Alright, Layla, I’ll follow you home. And it’s Ben.”

***

When he saw Layla looking resigned as she sat on her front step with her arms wrapped around her legs, Ben felt a tug. The confident woman who’d walked into his office the first two times now looked apprehensive and sad.

He’d followed her home, and now she was waiting for him while he parked because she didn’t want to go in alone. That was probably tough for a woman as independent as she seemed.

“Hey, nice place,” he said as he walked up. “How long have you been here?”

“A year and a half,” she said as she rose. “I like it here.”

He followed her through the door, taking advantage of his chance to admire her tight, curved ass. Her body was incredible; he’d noticed that the first time he’d seen her. She was tall, with round, firm tits, long legs and hips he was dying to wrap his hands around.

“I need to go get my dog from my neighbors. He may bark a little,” she said, glancing over her shoulder as she stuck the key in the door. “He’s not used to men being here.”

That’s a good thing
, Ben thought as he studied the curve of her neck. Her hair was pulled back in a thick, wavy ponytail.

She knocked on the door across from hers and a hound dog came barreling out as soon as he heard her voice, the hair on his back standing up when he saw Ben. He growled at Ben as Layla picked him up, reaching to open her door.

“Hey, let me go in first,” he said, his hand covering hers on the door knob. She jolted a little, and he figured she must be scared. He wanted to reach out and touch her back, maybe run his hand up to her neck, but that was inappropriate. She took a shaky breath as she stepped back, allowing him to go in first.

The apartment was bright, with high ceilings and modern furniture. He saw a dark purple sofa and a square glass coffee table before the bark of the dog who was now at his heels caught his attention.

“Prince,” Layla said from behind Ben. “It’s okay, baby.”

“Hey,” Ben said, bending down to pet the dog’s back. “Hey, buddy.”

He scratched Prince’s ears and soon his tail was wagging contentedly.

“He’s not much of a guard dog,” Layla said, smiling.

“I expected you to have a fluffy dog you could carry around in your purse,” Ben said, standing back up. Layla wrinkled her face with dismay.

“You’re saying you think I’m superficial,” she said. “I found Prince under a bridge when I was in law school. He was dirty and skinny and he stole my heart. We’ve been together since.”

Ben studied the dog’s gleaming coat and purple jeweled collar. He sure wasn’t dirty and skinny anymore. If anything, Prince needed to lose a couple pounds.

“Looks like he has it good now,” he said, petting Prince again when he jumped up. “And I don’t think you’re superficial. I think you’re feminine, and that’s not a bad thing.”

He warmed at the slight flush on her cheeks.
God damn
, she was pretty. Not run of the mill pretty, either. She had a bright white smile with dimples and huge, dark eyes framed with long lashes. But he hadn’t come here to hit on her.

“Just stay with me while I look everything over,” he said. He made his way into a small, modern kitchen, which didn’t look like it got much use. The counters were bare except for a coffee pot and a glass container of dog treats. A vase of wildflowers decorated the kitchen table.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone, so things may not be all that clean,” Layla said as they left the kitchen. Ben opened a closet and saw a few coats and long dresses, along with several shelves of shoes.

When they walked into her bedroom, he took note of her unmade queen size bed, with a white down comforter and pink satin sheets twisted together at the base. He pictured Layla sleeping there, her long legs bare on top of the sheets.

Stop. You can’t get a hard on right now, she’ll be so creeped out by it. Think about her dog, or work or your taxes. Anything but that bed.

He looked across the room and saw clothes littering the floor. His eyes went right to a skimpy pair of red panties that he pictured her sliding down her tight ass and tanned legs.

Fuck. That’s not helping.

“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding embarrassed behind him. “There hasn’t been anyone but me in my bedroom for the longest time.”

“It’s not that messy, really,” he said, stepping into the closet, where he eyed racks of clothes and rows of shoes and quickly adjusted himself. “Looks like you’re kind of into shoes.”

“A little,” she said.

He led the way out of the bedroom and into the black and white bathroom, where a large counter was spread with makeup, perfume, curling irons and hair styling products. Ben took in the fresh, powdery smell, wondering if that was what she smelled like up close. He went to the shower and pulled away the curtain, finding nothing but several bottles of shampoo, conditioner and body wash. Another wave of something fresh and sweet hit him, and he tried to banish the image of Layla in the shower, naked.