Authors: Jill Shalvis
Seven buttons. Eight. The material dropped to her hips, full and curvy and perfect for holding on to.
“Red.” His voice was rough and serrated to his own ears. “You’re not wearing anything beneath that dress.”
She lifted her gaze and unerringly met his in the dark. “Not a damned thing.”
And she let it fall.
She moved then, putting a knee on the bed, crawling slowly up his body until she sat astride his hips. “How was your day?” she asked as if they were having tea.
His hands came up and cupped her breasts. Her nipples beaded in his palms. “Sucked until now.”
Her head fell back. “Mine too. We found some discrepancies in Creative Interiors’s accounting.” Then she scooted aside to tug the sheet off him.
“What do you mean, discrepancies?” He wore only a pair of running shorts. Tented running shorts. She toyed with the elastic waistband.
“There’s some issues with the receivables,” she finally said, her fingers making him twitch.
“Issues?” It was getting to be a struggle to keep track of this conversation.
“The amount of money deposited into the bank doesn’t always match what was put in the register.” She tugged his shorts down. With a little hum low in her throat, she wrapped her fingers around him.
“Red.” He groaned, arching his hips helplessly. “I’m trying to concentrate here.”
“So am I.” She stroked long and slow, the way she’d learned he liked it, then reached into the drawer of his nightstand for a condom.
“How much money is missing?” he asked.
“Don’t know yet.”
“Who—” He broke off as she tore the packet open with her teeth and protected them both, taking her time about it too, dawdling with her fingers. “
Jesus.
Who had access to the account?”
“Everyone.” She surged up and sank down on him, drawing him into her body to the hilt.
He swore, gripping her hips, gritting his teeth not to lose it at the feel of her, hot and wet, surrounding him. “Don’t move,” he begged, holding her still. “God, don’t move.”
“I can’t help it.” She wriggled, then ran her hands up his arms until their fingers were entwined on either side of his head. Leaning down, she kissed him softly, deeply, and his heart tumbled. “You feel so good, Joe. So damned good.”
He pulled his hands free and rolled them, tucking her beneath him, flexing his hips, pressing her into the mattress, thrusting in deep. “And how do you feel?”
Arching into him, she wrapped her legs around his hips. “When I’m with you? Like I could walk on air.”
As far as declarations of feelings went, it was a doozy. And it took him right over the edge. He made sure he took her with him.
An hour later he lay sprawled on his back, Summer snuggled up to his side, the cool night air drifting over their nude, still sweaty bodies.
Ashes had joined them and lay at their feet.
Summer was lazily trailing a finger over Joe’s chest, occasionally tweaking his chest hair. He loved the way she touched him. He loved the way she panted his name when he was buried deep within her. He loved the way her smile lit up his life. And he loved how he felt when he was with her.
She shifted a little closer, cruising her mouth up his throat. Life didn’t get better than this, he thought.
“Your foot is doing good,” she murmured. “Isn’t it?”
Sure, unless he stood on it for more than sixty seconds. “If you’re worried, you can pamper me anytime. All the time.” He lifted his head and propped it up with a hand. “Move in with me.”
Her fingers went still on him. It was dark but he sensed the rest of her going just as still. “Or is that too involved with the future, which you don’t do.”
“You know I’m leaving.” She pulled away from him. “You’ve known all along.”
He reached out and flicked on the bedside lamp. “You said you’d come back this time.”
She blinked like an owl and sat up, curling her arms around her legs. A defensive, closed-off pose. “Here and there.”
Here and there.
Christ.
“I thought maybe, given all we’ve come to mean to each other, you could use San Diego as your base. Instead of San Francisco.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that I’m still gone more than I’m around.”
“I’m not asking you to change your job, Red.”
“No, you’re only asking me to change my life.”
“I love you. And goddamnit, I think you love me back.”
She said nothing, just stared at him.
And though his heart cracked and separated into a million pieces within his chest, he let out a low laugh. “Okay, maybe you don’t.”
“Can’t.”
“Won’t.”
She tightened her mouth and looked at Ashes asleep at the foot of the bed. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
“Something you apparently can’t give me,” he said softly, feeling destroyed. He grabbed his shorts. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because I let you think I could pull this off. That I could have a casual relationship with you and then let you walk away.”
“No.” Her voice was thick. “Remember in the beginning? You told me you couldn’t handle me walking away again. You wanted to stay away from me, but I wouldn’t let that happen. This is my fault, not yours.”
“Yeah, well, whoever’s fault it is doesn’t matter.” He felt raw. “I’ve gotta go.”
At the word “go,” Ashes leapt down, at the ready to follow him to the ends of the earth.
Joe stepped into his one shoe, grabbed his crutches.
“Joe, stop,” Summer protested. “This is your place.
I’ll
go.” She slipped into her sundress and sandals, and then had to walk by him on her way to the door. She stopped to press her mouth to his.
He tasted lost dreams, broken hearts and tears, and he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t let her go. He snagged her hand, holding her to him.
She hesitated, then without looking back, pulled free.
“I don’t want you to be alone,” he said to her back.
“I’ll stay with Chloe.” And then she was gone.
Ashes sat on his good foot and whined softly.
“Yeah,” he murmured, and stroked her head. “I know just how you feel.”
S
ummer spent the next few days trying not to think about anything other than numbers, because if she did, she just might realize that she’d walked away from the best thing that had ever happened to her. Her days seemed longer without Joe in them, the nights eternal.
It was as if a piece of her, the best piece, was gone. It was a huge gaping hole in her heart, and the biggest problem she’d ever faced. Needing to keep up some semblance of normalcy, she walked into Creative Interiors, the second biggest problem in her life.
Everyone agreed the fires were arson, but they remained unsolved. Now someone had stolen money from her mom and aunt right beneath their noses, probably someone she knew, and in all likelihood loved. Maybe even her own mother—which maybe made it not stealing at all.
Hell, she was so confused.
Everyone was at the store, and Summer attempted a broad smile. Attempted but did not achieve.
Tina put down a box and moved closer. “Darling?”
Camille was right behind her. “Summer, what is it?”
Be strong. Be sure.
Instead, she burst into tears.
Everyone shoved close—Camille, Tina, Chloe, the twins, even Stella and Gregg, who’d been bolstered by Camille and Tina’s adamance of their innocence and had been working harder than ever.
Summer sniffed and looked around at the kind, friendly faces. “I screwed up.”
“What? Honey, no you didn’t. You’re helping us, remember? You’re doing a great job.”
“With Joe. I screwed up a great thing with Joe, just because I was scared.”
“Oh.” Camille let out a long breath, going typically silent in the face of deep emotion.
“I once walked away from a great thing,” Tina said, stroking Summer’s hair. “I was too afraid to go for it.”
“Who?” Chloe wanted to know.
Tina looked at her daughter. “Your dad.”
Chloe gasped. “I thought he walked away from you! He was an artist. He left you and went to France.”
“He wanted me to go with him.” Tina sighed. “My biggest regret.”
“I too walked away from a great thing once.”
Everyone stared in shock at Camille, who’d spoken.
Her smile was a little shaky. “Actually, twice.”
“Twice?”
Summer asked.
“Your dad had to chase me.”
“Once,” Tina said. “He chased you once. You were fifteen.”
“The second time wasn’t Tim. It was more recent.” At that, Camille’s eyes locked on Summer’s.
And she realized who. Kenny. She’d walked away from Kenny.
“And I regret it greatly,” Camille admitted, gently stroking Summer’s hair. “Don’t live with regrets, honey. It’s just not worth it.”
“Madeline and I warned you about your horoscope,” Diana said. “Remember?”
Madeline nodded with her twin. Yes, they’d warned Summer.
“The only warning you gave me was to not get out of bed.”
“Or something bad would happen. Which it did.”
There was no arguing with Diana.
“I don’t have a regret.” Chloe flashed them the tiny braid of gold on her finger. “It’s a promise ring. Braden’s going to go back to school to become an accountant. We’re going to make a real life, no matter what happens.”
Gregg grabbed Stella’s hand. “It’s not about the regrets. It’s how you deal with them.”
“And how you learn from them,” Stella said softly, squeezing Gregg’s hand, smiling into his face. “We’ve made lots of mistakes, and have hopefully learned a lot.”
“I have cookies,” Madeline said, and everyone stared at her in surprise because she never talked. “Oatmeal raisin. I made them myself. Nothing heals a heart faster than oatmeal raisin.”
So they sat around and ate cookies and drank herbal iced tea. Summer didn’t feel any better afterward but she felt far less alone. That afternoon, Madeline and Diana took her out. Not to a college party or the mall, but on a bike ride along the beach. That culminated with lying on the sand, soaking up some sun, eating ice cream, and talking about the male species. Diana confessed to having a thing for a guy who worked at the art gallery next to Creative Interiors, and Madeline for the frat boy who worked at the sandwich shop on the other side of the gallery.
“That’s because he smokes with you,” Diana said in disgust.
Summer went from relaxed to tense in zero point four. “You smoke?”
“I’m almost eighteen,” Madeline said defensively. “And besides, it’s my body.”
Diana rolled her eyes. “And
my
lungs.”
Summer kept her silence but her eyes cut to Madeline’s feet, relieved to see she had nowhere near a size men’s eleven and a half.
That evening after closing, Bill went with Summer to the bank. They’d been making the deposit in twos since the discrepancies had been discovered. Summer had barely begun to scratch the surface of figuring out how much money was missing, never mind who’d taken it. She had a lot of people interested in the outcome: Camille and Tina obviously, also the arson team, the police, and the rest of the staff. It was a big, black cloud hanging over all of them. A new nightmare.
“Are you getting anywhere with the records?” Bill asked her.
Summer lifted a shoulder. “Slowly.”
They stared at each other somberly, knowing no one was going to like what they found.
“It’s scary,” she admitted.
“No one would blame you if you left now,” he said very gently. “Your future isn’t here.”
“Really? So where is it?”
“None of us really know.”
“But most of us at least know what we want.”
He looked at her blandly.
“You don’t?” she asked in surprise.
“What, just because I’m old, I’m supposed to know what I want to be when I grow up?”
“You’re an artist.”
“Yes, and by the very definition of that, I’m eccentric, addicted to antidepressant meds, and unreliable. I wouldn’t recognize my future if it bit me on the ass. Look, Summer, all I’m saying is that it’s okay not to know what you want to be. There’s no need to settle.”
“I’m not settling. And I know what I want to be. I’m an expedition leader.” She let out a long breath at his patient silence. “I know it’s not rocket science. It’s more like…brain candy. But that’s what I am. Who I am. I like it. I just don’t know
where
to be it.”
“Of course you do.” He ruffled her hair. “You just haven’t admitted it yet. Look, it’s simple. You want to head out of here, go. You want to stay, then stay.”
“What would you do?”
“Ah, now that’s even simpler,” he said with a real smile. “I’d run far and long and never look back.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
But that’s what she’d been doing. She’d been running for so long she thought maybe she was tired of it. It was easy to go. Even easier to stay gone.
And yet the alternative shook her to the core.
Joe had to take a taxi into work. This was because no one would pick him up and drive him there. It didn’t matter that they’d claimed to desert him out of love. “That’s bullshit anyway,” he told Ashes on the ride. “If they loved me, they’d get their ass over here.”
The cab deposited them at the fire station, where he paid a small fortune for the honor. By the time he’d maneuvered himself up the front stairs, with Ashes patiently sticking to his side, he had a line of sweat trickling down his back and was shaking like a baby.
Oh, yeah, he was in great shape. Just great.
He barged into Kenny’s office and locked his legs into place so he wouldn’t fall down. “Where are we with the Creative Interiors case?”
Kenny stroked Ashes, who’d leapt into his lap. “You look like hell.”
“The case, Kenny.”
“Nice to see you too.”
“You just saw me,” Joe pointed out. “Last night. You brought me Chinese.”
“When you admitted your doctor told you to stay off work for another three weeks.”
“Yeah, yeah. Listen, I’ve been going over the notes.” Screw it, he was still shaking like a leaf, so he admitted defeat and sank into a chair. “But I’d like to see what else we’ve got.”
“The only ‘we’ here is me and whoever the chief can spare to help me.” Kenny’s eyes flashed regret. “You know that.”
“Don’t block me out.”
Kenny swore at that.
Joe rolled his eyes.
And Ashes, already aware of who was hers, jumped down from Kenny’s lap and headed to Joe’s.
“Please, Kenny. I need to
do
something. I’m losing it.”
“
Christ.
Fine.” Kenny tossed him a huge file. “We’re still watching the regulars.”
Joe read through everything carefully. “You and I both know that approximately eighty percent of the time, the owners turn out to be the culprits.”
“Yeah,” Kenny said miserably.
“Tina has an alibi. She was with her husband during both fires. The twins corroborated this, which gives all four of them an alibi.”
“Right.” Kenny’s mouth went grim. “Which leads us to the second owner.”
“Camille.”
“She didn’t do this,” Kenny said firmly.
“There’s no evidence against her,” Joe agreed. “But we know she was holding back in the interviews. It was also out of character for her to call Summer that night of the second fire.”
“You think she started the fire, then realized Summer was in there, and panicked?”
“She has insurance motive.”
“She has plenty of money.”
“Look, I know how you feel about her, Kenny.”
Kenny just looked at him.
“I know because I’m there,” Joe said quietly. “I’m in hell over her daughter, all right?”
“No, not all right. I’ll give you that there’s some circumstantial evidence against her. There’s also the fact that the fires accomplished something nothing else had.”
“They brought Summer home,” Joe said grimly.
They both looked at each other for a long moment.
“Let’s widen the scope,” Kenny finally said. “Back to all the players for a minute.”
“Okay.” Joe flipped a few pages. “Braden told the truth about quitting smoking. His doctor confirmed.”
“Yes.”
“And Ally. She’s never smoked, nor does she wear a man’s shoe. She also, thanks to the art gallery owner next to her, the one who has a crush on her, has a rock solid alibi. He was watching her through the windows. He saw her doing her books the night of the store fire.”
“Creepy but correct.”
“The twins.”
“Too young for the first fire.”
“Stella and Gregg,” Joe said. “Neither of them smoke or have a size eleven-and-a-half shoe, though they have no alibi for either fire. Plus there’s the fact they lost a store of their own, and kept that quiet. Revenge.”
“Gee, Joe, you’re good at this. Maybe you should get a job here.”
“Ha ha. We need a real motive, Kenny.”
“And a real suspect.”
Joe leaned back in the chair, his head against the wall, his legs spread out in front of him. The exhaustion had set in. “My brain is so tired I could crash right here.”
“You shouldn’t even be here,” Kenny said. “Where’s your watch woman? I told Summer to keep you in bed.”
“That’s not really working out for us.”
Kenny looked disgusted with him. “You kept your mouth shut again, didn’t you?”
“Ironically, no. This time I opened up, all the way. And this time, unlike any of the others, I actually did the dumping.”
“Well, that was stupid,” Kenny said.
Joe had to agree.
That evening the phone rang while Joe was sharing a can of SpaghettiOs with Ashes.
“Summer needs you,” Chloe said without a greeting.
“What?”
“Just get here. Oh, and don’t tell her I called you.”
He paid yet another cab driver yet another ridiculous amount of money, and twenty minutes later got out in front of Chloe’s condo. “Where is she?” he asked when Chloe opened the door.
“In the kitchen. I burned dinner and the smoke alarm went off. She sort of freaked.”
He found Summer sitting on the counter, hugging her knees, staring out at the ocean. At the sight of him, she let out a long breath and shook her head at her cousin. “Damn it, Chloe.”
Chloe chewed her fingernail. “I’m so not sorry.”
“Well, I am.” Summer turned to Joe. “You didn’t have to come.”
“Tell me what happened,” he said.
“Nothing.”
Chloe snorted. “You had a damn panic attack.”
“Did not.”
“Right.” Chloe rolled her eyes at Joe. “I think I’ll leave her to you.”
When she was gone, Summer sighed. “I really am sorry. It’s just that the alarm triggered some stupid response in me and in a heartbeat, I was back at that warehouse fire.”
“There weren’t any alarms at that fire.”
Her eyes were clouded. “No, but when I woke up in the hospital, Tina was there, holding my hand. It was a few days later, and I was so groggy. I was awake for a few minutes before she realized, and she was talking to someone about the fire, and the lack of an alarm. I guess that stuck with me.”
“Was she talking to your mom?”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t remember. My head hurt. God, it hurt so bad.”
“You took a good hit,” he said quietly.
“Yeah.” She rubbed her chest as if that hurt too. “I was pinned on the floor of the warehouse. Couldn’t breathe.”
Joe blinked. This wasn’t a hospital memory, but from the actual fire. It was coming back to her?
“I can still hear my dad.” Her voice broke. “I tried to get to him but the beam held me down.”
Small tremors wracked her body and he limped closer, knowing she’d never remembered past this point. “Red, don’t. It’s okay—”
“I screamed. I wanted help. And through the smoke I saw someone, only they didn’t come help me.” She clapped her hand over her mouth and stared at him. “Oh my God.”
He set down the crutches and put both hands on her arms, gently squeezing. “It was me. You saw me. I came up those stairs after you and was there right after you got hit.”
“Yes, I could hear you calling my name behind me. I could hear you pounding your way up the stairs.” She fisted her hands in his shirt and clung. “But in front of me, I saw someone else.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.” She closed her eyes tight and shook her head. “I don’t know. But someone else was there, Joe. I know it.”