Sex, Lies and Midnight (16 page)

It was a sucky plan, but it was all he had.

He still had Maya’s keys. He’d slap on some workout gear, head into town to ostensibly look for the gym he knew didn’t exist. Once there, he’d check out the rentals, see if he could get into Tobias’s home. Then he’d drop in to Tobias’s shop, use last night’s meet as an entrée.

And Maya? His gaze traveled over her form, glowing soft gold in the morning light. Her hair was a striking contrast against the white of the pillow. He recalled the feel of it trailing over his belly, down his thighs. Ruthlessly, he yanked on jeans and snapped them before things got so out of control he couldn’t get the zipper up.

Because if he wasn’t out of this room in five minutes or less, he knew he’d crawl back into bed with her. How much could he do before she awoke? Would she feel his kisses if they were whisper soft over her body? Would she react to his tongue if he gently licked her nipples? His fingers if they tested, teased and tormented her to a hot, wet welcome?

Crap.

Simon shook his head to clear it, then grabbed what he needed and hurried into Maya’s room to finish dressing. Dottie was curled up on the pristinely made bed, purring in her sleep. At his entrance, she opened one eye, stretched, then hopped down.

He pulled on his cowboy boots with one eye on the door and the other on that crazy cat. Last night she’d acted like she was gonna take off some skin. Now she was rubbing up against him like he was covered in catnip.

“You’re as hard to figure out as your mistress, aren’t you, Dottie?” he whispered, scratching his finger between the cat’s furry ears.

He strode over to the antique rolltop desk and scrawled a quick note for Maya, telling her he’d gone to work out. To keep it real, he figured he’d take a quick run in the forest after he’d scoped out Tobias’s place.

Then, gathering his gym bag, Maya’s car keys and his coat, Simon headed for the door. He didn’t let himself look at the adjoining room as he went. A smart man knew his limits.

That he was running in more ways than one didn’t escape him.

“DARLING, YOU ARE THE absolute picture of your mother. Gorgeous, and so grown up now. Your hair is a little out of control, though, dear. I can make an appointment with my hairdresser while you’re in town if you’d like?”

Maya was glad to turn away, both to hide her grimace and to follow the hostess to the best table at Kara’s Bistro, her aunt’s favorite restaurant.

“Thanks,” she said as she took her seat. “But I’m happy with it the way it is.”

Appearances had always been Cynthia Parker’s driving force in life. Maintaining her own, demanding others change theirs to meet her specifications. Something Maya had never quite pulled off.

Cynthia Parker, on the other hand, looked nothing like her late sister. Maya’s aunt was a large, commanding woman who even in a restaurant filled with diners, seemed to be the only person in the room. Her pageboy haircut was a medium brown, with eyes to match. Once a high school yard duty monitor, she’d worked her way up the ladder of the school board and somehow ended up as mayor the year Maya had left home.

“You look wonderful, though,” Maya said before her aunt could offer any more subtle critiques.

“I’m so glad I stopped by the manor this morning,” Cynthia exclaimed as she took her own seat and glanced around the room as if checking to see if anyone was worthy of her time and attention. “I can’t believe you were going to take a taxi into town. Didn’t you bring your own vehicle?”

“A friend is using it,” Maya said between clenched teeth. The furious irritation she’d woken up feeling toward Simon rose to a scary level when she glanced out the window and saw her Honda parked right there in the town square. “But lucky for me, you had stopped by to see Mr. Hamilton.”

“Well, he is in charge of my upcoming campaign for state representative, dear. I try to chat with Ham at least once a week, keeping up with the local businesses and all of that,” Cynthia said. “Now, tell me everything. How long are you in town? And more importantly, where on earth have you been for the past couple of years? All I have is a cell phone number. I need your address, darling. It’s rude not to stay in touch, you know.”

“I send Christmas cards,” Maya returned, sipping her ice water and nodding to the waitress who held up a pot of coffee. Caffeine was an absolute necessity. She hadn’t closed her eyes until the wee hours of the morning, and while she wasn’t averse to losing a night to fabulous sex, it would have been nice to wake up for a little more.

Not that she was upset or anything. Hey, she’d learned a long time ago not to depend on men for anything. They always, always got her hopes up, then smashed them to hell.

But a damned note? That he needed exercise? Hadn’t he got a good enough cardio workout in bed? Maya had trouble swallowing past the ball of anger clogging her throat, and had to force herself to focus on her aunt.

“You and those brothers of yours.” Cynthia tut-tutted. “No fault to you children, of course. I blame your father.”

“Of course you do,” Maya agreed. Cynthia had blamed Tobias for everything from his children’s misbehavior to the way they dressed. From her sister’s death to the very fact that Celia Parker had been crazy enough to fall in love with a loser like Tobias Black. Holidays had been so fun growing up.

Of course, her father had proved his sister-in-law’s assessment of his character true not once, but twice. First with Greta, and now with Lilah.
The man might be clever in many ways, but he was a moron when it came to women,
Maya thought with an angry sniff.

“But we won’t waste our lunch on that nonsense,” Cynthia decreed. “Instead we’ll catch up. Tell me everything, darling. Where are you living? Where are you working? Those little notes you send with cards say so little.”

Before Maya could respond, or even decide how she wanted to respond, the waitress arrived to take their orders.

“Lunch specials,” Cynthia told the girl without checking to see if Maya agreed. Then she gave a quick wave of her fingers, dismissing the waitress. Seeing the irritation in Maya’s eyes, she reached over and patted her niece’s hand. “I don’t want to waste a moment of our time together. You said you’re only here for the week, and I suppose you’ll spend much of that time with your brother and his little fiancée. So this is our special time, isn’t it?”

Maya bit back a sigh. Cynthia had been the only female influence she’d had growing up. Indeed, the other woman had even tried to sue Tobias for custody at one point, sure that her sister’s children needed a motherly touch. When she’d lost, she’d focused her attention on making sure Maya had a suitable feminine influence. Only her idea of influence meant touting the benefits of not wearing makeup, warnings about the evils of men and constant harping on the proper way a young lady should dress, which meant skirts to the knee, pants with no rips and heels at a maximum of a half inch.

But, as she’d always reminded Maya, it’d all been said with love.

“This is just like the old days, Aunt Cynthia. And I want to hear everything you’ve done since I left. I saw the new lampposts by the inn. And is the library larger?”

As always, civic duty sent her aunt into a happy litany that lasted through the salad course and halfway into their entrée.

Finally, the older woman tapped her fork on her plate, then pointed it at Maya. “Now, enough about Black Oak. Tell me about you. I never thought I’d see the day that I was glad to have my own flesh and blood far away. But with all the drama and trouble here lately, I’ve said more than a few thanks that you’re well away from the problems your father has caused.”

No surprise that Tobias was in the middle of a fracas. But what was shocking was that anyone—especially someone on the uptight side of the law like her aunt—had a clue about it. Tobias used to be so good at keeping his con life a secret. He’d taught his children the art of living with subtlety.

What was going on with him? Worry closing her throat, Maya set her fork aside and tried not to freak out too much. But this was her father. Maybe she’d given up the idea of him being invincible back when he’d let her get arrested. But she still had respect for his skills. So what had happened? What was wrong?

“Dad’s in trouble?”

“He set up Jeff Kendall,” Cynthia said, her tone low and angry. “Set him up to take the fall for a drug ring. A ring that he masterminded.”

Shocked, she stared in horror. “Dad? Drugs? No way.”

“Oh, sweetie, you’ve always had a blind spot when it comes to your father. All three of you did. And it’s got you in trouble before, hasn’t it?”

Maya shook her head. No way. Her father was a con artist. Emphasis on artist. He prided himself on his clever psychological people play, on the fact that he only targeted the rich and spoiled, and that he specialized in the unique. Mundane meant lazy to him.

And drugs, in Tobias’s mind, would be mundane.

“My father might be many things,” Maya said quietly, forever grateful that her aunt had no true idea of what most of those things were, “but he’d never be involved in drugs.”

“Sheriff Kendall said differently.”

“Sheriff Kendall was wrong.”

Cynthia sighed, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, and she gave Maya a pitying look. “Sweetie, you don’t understand how your father has changed in recent years. First there was that questionable relationship he had, with that horrible woman a half-dozen or so years ago. Then, without his children around, he tossed aside any sense of caution. This time, he’s hoodwinked poor Caleb, tried to set up that sweet girl, Pandora. And now that you’re home, I’m afraid he’ll somehow involve you, too.”

“Do you have proof Dad’s involved?” Maya challenged, her chin jutting in a stubborn angle. She knew what her father was. But she also knew what he wasn’t.

Clearly she’d come home to save him from more than just Lilah’s clutches.

“Sweetie—”

“If Kendall was arrested, there must be plenty of proof of his guilt. I know he’s your friend, I remember when you campaigned for him as sheriff. But you can’t pin this on Dad. That doesn’t make sense.”

Cynthia’s smile stiffened into what Maya and her brothers had always called her political look. All teeth and arched brows, she looked like a barracuda about to feed. Then she seemed to think twice about whatever she’d wanted to say. She sighed instead, then reached across the table and patted Maya’s hand.

“Well, let’s just say I have inside information, sweetie. I can’t share, and won’t nag. But sweetie, you’re my little sister’s baby girl. I owe it to her, to you, to try to make sure you’re okay.”

And there she went on a familiar diatribe about Tobias and how he’d snuck into town, swept her sister off her feet and before Celia could think twice, she was married and pregnant.

Letting the words roll over her while she mulled worries over her father, Maya stared out the window. She saw a few people she recognized walking through the town square. Kitty corner to the restaurant, she could see Moonspun Dreams, Pandora’s shop. Would her father set up a perfectly innocent woman to take the fall for his crime?

Like he’d let her fall?

But she hadn’t been innocent. And she hadn’t fallen, just tripped a little.

As her stomach churned the lunch special into nausea, Maya tried to breathe in calm. Letting her aunt’s words fade into the background, she yanked the emotions in and focused on something, anything, outside of her father.

Like Simon. How he’d made her feel. The way he’d looked in the wee hours of the morning as the breaking sun rays had glanced over his closed eyes.

Maya’s pulse skipped, but for a completely different reason now. Her breathing slowed, her tension eased. Poor Simon, the guy had no idea that he was rapidly becoming her own personal pacifier.

And speak of the devil. A move across the street caught her attention.

Simon came striding out of Moonspun Dreams. God, he looked good. Sexy and fresh, with the light glinting off hair she’d spent a lovely number of hours running her fingers through. He had both hands tucked in the pockets of his jacket and a huge smile on his face.

And, her eyes narrowed, a slut on his arm.

Lilah was hanging all over him. Her hair teased in huge waves, her jeans so tight they had to be squishing her kidneys and her cheap drugstore heels teetering, she curled her claws around Simon’s arm. Then she had the nerve to pat his bicep like it was her very own pet.

Maya’s jaw clenched, her teeth sore from biting back the furious cuss words that she wanted to spew. And, she was horrified to realize, the tears she was barely keeping in check.