Shallow Grave-J Collins 3 (7 page)

Was he interested in what I’d been doing? Would he care about Jericho’s appearance in my life? Would he tell me anything about the Hombres’ meetings he’d had in Denver?

By unspoken agreement, we avoided business discussions. At times it made me crazy, the separation of our private lives from our public selves. It didn’t seem to bother him. And I’d sound needy and desperate if I brought it up.

Screw that.

Th

e kitchen fl oor behind me creaked. Martinez circled his arms low on my waist and shrouded his face with my hair. “You didn’t have to get up.”

“Someone had to make coff ee.”

64

“It can wait.”

“Mmm.” I leaned against him. “Why aren’t you racing out of here like usual?”

He pushed aside my tangled mane, rubbing his freshly-shaven jaw against my cheek. “Because I’ve got nothing going on until this afternoon.
Late
this afternoon.”

My stomach swooped. “You
did
miss me.”

“Yeah.” He delicately bit the skin where my neck curved into my shoulder. Th

e magic spot that shut down

my normal brain functions and literally made me weak-kneed.

Martinez untied the satin sash and loosened the lapels of my robe. Leisurely, he ran his hard-skinned palms up my belly, over each rib, and cupped my breasts.

“Come back to bed, blondie.”

“We making up for lost time?”

“Something like that.”

My robe slithered to the fl oor.

Coff ee was overrated anyway.

M M M

“Uncle.” Winded, I slumped forward on his damp chest.

He casually dragged his fi ngertips up and down my spine.

After we’d caught our breath, Martinez lightly pushed 65

my hair from my face. “You okay?”

No. Between him being gone, a front row seat to Lang Everett’s death, and fi nding out about Jericho, I’d been off balance. I wasn’t surprised he’d noticed, but I doubted he wanted the gory details.

So I said nothing. I just closed my eyes and listened to the steady beat of his heart beneath my ear while I breathed him in.

“Julie?”

“Hmm?”

“Tell me what’s going on.”

Was he picking a fi ght? Already? I rolled away and perched on the edge of the bed. “Nothing.”

Next thing I knew, he’d spun me and pinned me to the mattress. “Get off me, Martinez. I need to take a shower.”

“Answer the question,” he said in that deadly, don’t-fuck-with-me tone.

“I did. Now let me go.”

“No.”

He had me at a disadvantage, physically and mentally, which I hated, which he also knew.

“Fine. You were gone, what? Two weeks? Why didn’t you call me?”

Martinez didn’t move a muscle. “Th

at’s what’s bug-

ging you?”

66

“Yes.”

Coolly, he said, “I could ask you the same.”

Defl ect. Another tactic he used. “Yeah. Well. I had a lot on my mind.”

“A lot besides me, apparently.”

“Don’t do this, Martinez.”

“What?”

“Act like an asshole and try to make me cry. I’ve cried enough lately, all right?”

His mouth hardened. “You’d rather take a punch than shed a tear.”

“No shit.”

“So, who hit you?”

“No one.”

“Th

en why were you crying?”

“Jericho, among other things.”

“Who the fuck is Jericho?”

Was that jealousy in his eyes? “My surprise nephew.

Ben’s son. I didn’t know about him until his mother showed up here two days ago. Evidently she was pregnant with him when Ben was murdered.”

“You sure he’s Ben’s kid?”

“Jericho looks exactly like him.”

Martinez rested his forehead against mine. “Jesus Christ. I cannot fucking believe the shit that happens to you. What else?”

67

“I saw a man die right in front of me while Kevin and I were on surveillance.”

He fl inched. Subtly, but I felt it. In a show of re-assurance I let my hands drift up and down the tensed muscles in his naked back.

“You should’ve called me.”

“What could you have done?”

His body stiff ened and he pushed himself away.

Maybe it’d been a smarmy response, but I couldn’t help the annoyed, “What?” as I perversely scooted closer to him.

Martinez palmed my head and coiled a hank of hair around his index fi nger. “Sorry. I’ve been a little on edge lately.”

“Do ya think?”

“Smart ass.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”

My, my, wasn’t he paranoid today. “Why don’t you talk about your kids?”

His eyes fl ashed.

I’d shocked him. Good.

“Where in the hell did that come from?”

“After Jericho showed up, I remembered the fi rst time we met in Dusty’s, you’d talked about your ex-wife bleeding you dry on child support.” I locked my gaze to 68

his. “Since we’re . . . involved, I deserve to know if any Tony Juniors are running around.”

He stared at me for the longest time. “Not kids.

Kid. I’ve got a fourteen-year-old son.”

“You ever see him?”

“Not since he was two.”

“Why not?”

“His mother felt my lifestyle wasn’t an appropriate environment to raise a child in.”

A strange band of jealousy tightened my gut. “Didn’t she know about the Hombres before you got married?”

“Yes.”

Silence.

Jesus. He was gonna make me fucking drag this out of him. “
And
?”

Martinez sighed. “And, one night our house was raided by the cops because of my position in the club.

She took the boy and left Colorado the next day. Now we only communicate through our attorneys.”

“What’s your son’s name?”

“Alejandro.”

“Do you ever wish—?”

“No,” he said curtly, which meant end of discussion.

A calculating look returned to his eyes. “Why the questions all of a sudden, blondie?”

“Trying to piss you off , naturally.”

69

Th

en he gifted me with that lethal smile that made my insides do the cha-cha. He traced my lips with the pad of his thumb. “I can’t believe I missed your smart mouth.”

I angled my head to kiss the inside of his wrist. “Is that why you’re pissed off ? You didn’t want to miss me?”

“Maybe.” He sighed again. “Anything else you wanna talk about?”

“Nah. I’d rather try to take that edge off you instead.” I trailed my mouth over his smooth chest and down his abdomen. Lingered on the scorpion tattoo below his belly button.

“You trying to distract me with sex?”

“Mmm-hmm. Makeup sex is always hot. Is it working?”

“For now.”

“Good.”

“Maybe you really did miss me,” he murmured, and it was a long time before he said anything else.

M M M

Another workweek dawned. Mondays were always busy and I welcomed the distraction from obsessing over Martinez returning to town. Or obsessing that I hadn’t heard from Abita. Obsessing that I’d seen my seventh dead body in so many months.

I’d just cracked my mid-morning Diet Pepsi when 70

the door to my offi

ce opened and shut softly.

Th

at gave me pause. Kim usually left it open, hoping the scent of Shalimar and her throaty southern laughter would draw Kevin in. It usually did. I closed the document fi le and revolved my offi

ce chair.

Holy shit. Instead of the totally put together woman I admired, Kim was a disaster. She wore ratty purple sweats that clashed something awful with her burgundy hair. Not a hint of blush or eyeliner on her waxy face. Usually her locks were impeccably coiff ed. Today it looked like she’d combed her hair with a toilet brush.

“Oh, God, Jules, I have to talk to you.”

My heart rate kicked up. Her good eye was puff y and red from crying, which accentuated the creepiness of the glass one.

Kim paced, chewing her unpainted lip.

I circled the desk and nudged her toward the two cloth wingbacks, kitty-corner from the window. I drew the line at letting her sob in my beloved buff alo skin chair.

Besides, I suspected she’d sat on a bag of Cheetos, as her butt was an odd shade of orange. “What’s wrong?”

Kim’s tears fell in a steady stream. “I’m pregnant.”

I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I didn’t know what to say. So I sat there like a dumb ass and let her cry.

Her Kleenex was little more than tatters. I found my wits and reached for the box on my desk, handing 71

her two.

“Th

ank you.”

She blew her nose, not like a honking duck, but a delicate sniff , her perfect southern breeding intact.

Kim’s good eye met mine. Th

e glass one focused on

my shoulder. She snapped her lids shut, reopened them and got it back in alignment. Weird to think she had a tracking type device in her head. Very
Six Million Dollar Man
.

I said, “Who?”

“Who what?”

“We’re not playing this, are we?”

She shook her head, bowed it, and began to cry again.

“Come on, Kim. You brought this up. Who?”

“I don’t want to tell you who.”

Only one reason she wouldn’t want to tell me: if I was acquainted with the father. I automatically dismissed Martinez. Kim wouldn’t poach, and Martinez had an obsessive thing about fi delity. And blondes. And me.

Every muscle in my body went rigid.

Kevin?

How would I react if Kevin was the father? He was my best friend, my business partner,
my
Kevin. Yet, Kim was an attractive, gregarious woman. Kevin was crazy about her. I couldn’t pick a better match for her, or for him for that matter. Still, the idea of them together 72

made me . . . strangely jealous.

I braced myself, and repeated, “Who?”

She blurted, “Murray.”

“Murray? As in Murray, our dentist, Murray? Murray who has offi

ces on the second fl oor?”

Kim nodded.

A hysterical, relieved giggle escaped from me. “Hey, I know you don’t have dental insurance, but isn’t sex an extreme solution for getting a reduction on your teeth cleaning bill?”

Her hands came up, covered her face, and she sobbed.

Sometimes I amaze myself with my bad timing and smart mouth.

I knelt in front of her. “Okay. Bad joke. I’m sorry.

It’s just . . . I didn’t know you and Murray . . .”

“I didn’t want you to know.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re sneaking around with sexy stud, alpha biker, Tony Martinez. Going out with Murray Fetzer, DDS, seems a little vanilla in comparison.”

Th

at absolutely fl oored me. Didn’t she know I’d give anything for some of that vanilla in my relationship with Martinez? It made me mad that she thought so little of me. Hell, made me mad that I thought so little of myself.

“Jesus, Kim. Why would you give a shit what
I
think?

73

Especially about your choices in men?”

Startled by my vehemence, she scooted back.

“How long have you been seeing Murray?”

“Th

at’s the thing. We’ve gone out off and on for the last couple of months. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. I mean, we never even talked about us not seeing other people.”

“Are you seeing another guy?”

“No.”

“Is he?”

“Seeing another guy? Gawd, I hope not.”

Color me glad she’d calmed down enough to crack a joke.

“I can’t believe it. We were so careful.” Her good eye went wide. “Except for that one time, when we stopped into his offi

ce after hours and he showed me his

new adjustable chair.”

“You guys did it in his dentist’s chair?”

Her cheeks fl ushed.

“Hate to tell you, hot mama, but there ain’t nothin’

vanilla about that.”

Kim crumpled the Kleenex in her fi st. “Th is is so

screwed up. I can’t believe this has happened to me.”

“So, what are you, a couple of weeks along?”

“Six,” she said and ducked her head.

Another bout of clumsy silence.

74

“Kim, do you want this baby?”

“I don’t know.” She raised wet eyes to mine. “I’m thirty-eight years old. I’ve been with more guys than is probably healthy and I’ve never gotten pregnant. Not once. What does that say? What if it’s a sign? What if this is my last chance? What if it’s my
only
chance?”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Not if I . . .”

Not if she had an abortion. I was relieved she hadn’t automatically discounted that option. “And if you decide to go through with the pregnancy?”

“I’d tell him for sure.”

“Who else knows?”

“Just you.”

“If he walks away, are you prepared to raise a child on your own?”

“I don’t know.” Kim looked up. “If you were me, what would you do?”

Figured she’d ask that. “Th

ink about it before I

made a decision either way. But not for too long.”

“Th

at’s what I’m afraid of. Murray is such a great guy, and if I tell him I’m pregnant, he’ll want to do the right thing.”

“And that’s bad because . . .?”

“Because I don’t want him to feel obligated to me.”

Neither of us said anything for a while.

75

I wanted to smoke. I didn’t. I had a feeling I’d better get used to not smoking around her and the baby.

Th

at sounded weird to say even in my own head.

Kim sailed to her feet. “I’ll go. Th

anks for not

freaking out. I know swapping secrets isn’t your favorite thing, but I just needed to talk to someone.”

“Anytime, toots. And no matter what, I’ll respect your decision. You know I’ll be here for you, right?”

Her eye teared up. “Wow. We have made progress.

You actually admitted you care about me and didn’t choke on it. Now I’m really scared.”

“If you tell anyone I’m getting soft I’ll start telling people exactly how you let your dentist use his tool on you.”