“But she was staying here,” Maddie confirmed, “with you. Right up until she…left for this school?”
Leftwas a good choice of verb. It was nicely neutral. Sans any screaming.
“Yes. Her father wouldn’t let her stay with him. He and wife-number-three have two-year-old twins. We didn’t have a lot of options.” She shook her head. “Look, I already know what you’re going to ask, and no, you cannot come in. We’ve already searched the house and found the drugs. They’re gone. We destroyed them.”
Maddie shook her head. “That’s not why we’re here.”
“What, then?” Mrs. Clark said. “You think she’s hidden ten thousand dollars somewhere in her bedroom? Honey, it was gone—probably already up her nose—long before she left San Diego.” She looked from Maddie to Dingo and back. “Go home. I’m sure your parents are worried about you.”
And with that she closed and locked the door with a very firmclick.
According to the law office receptionist, Susan Smith, Esquire—also known as Fiona’s aunt, she of the burned-down condo—would not be in until later this afternoon.
Pete squinted in the morning sun as he followed Shayla out of the building and into the parking lot, checking the time—it was a little after 0900. “When do you think we should text Maddie, see if she’s open to talking? I don’t want to piss her off by waking her up.”
“I was thinking ten,” Shay said. “It’s respectful but not overly indulgent.”
He nodded.
She met his eyes and smiled, and it zinged right through him, confirming that he was hard. Again. Already. Hell, he’d been ready for more while they were walking around outside of her house, checking for cracks and structural damage—that was how bad he had it for this woman.
Because just a few minutes beforethat,shortly after they’d woken up, they’d had yet another round of heart-stopping high-octane sex. And that was on top of last night’s hat trick.
And…thinking about that wasn’t helping him right now. Pete cleared his throat. “I’m not sure what to do next.”
“Write Chapter Three?” Shay suggested. “We could do it, you know, rough and fast, and yeah, I just heard that come out of my mouth, but that’s actually writer talk, not me suggesting you pin me against the wall in your entryway, although asthosewords come out of my mouth, I’m finding that I like that idea, a lot.”
He laughed and grabbed her, pulling her in for an embrace, burying his nose in the curls of her fresh-smelling hair, and loving the softness of her body against his. He’d left off his uniform today but wore what he thought of as hisniceshorts. No cargo pockets. A short-sleeved button-down shirt instead of a T. Shay was dressed a lot like she’d been yesterday, in a brightly printed sleeveless shirt and khaki pants that didn’t quite reach her ankles. She had some kind of sweater or jacket—in a vibrant shade of red—tucked over her handbag.
“Let’s go back, and see what happens,” she said. “You can tell me Chapter Three in the car, we can figure out whether we want to get it onto paper before or after, dot dot dot.”
Pete kissed her, and she kissed him back, her arms up around his neck, fingers in his hair. She seemed to melt against him and…He suddenly realized they were standing in the middle of a public parking lot, which was strange.
He didn’t do PDAs—public displays of affection. Well, Lisa hadn’t liked them, and…it was crazy. They’d broken up fourteen years ago, and apparently he was still living his life by her rules.
So he kissed Shay again. And yeah, you know what? Turned out he fuckinglikedPDAs. He liked them alot.
As they finally got back into his truck, Shayla had clearly made note of his change of mood. He was trying to figure out how to tell her he’d been thinking about Lisa while he was kissing her without having it sound completely wrong, when she spoke.
“Hey, can I just say something?” she asked as he pulled out of the lawyer’s lot.
“Of course.” He laughed. Since when was she shy about anything?
She hesitated. “Something potentially awkward and blunt?”
Uh-oh. “Go.”
“The sex is great.”
That was blunt, but not what he’d call awkward. “I’m not suregreatis a good enough word,” he said. “I mean, you’re the writer.”
She smiled. “The sex is transcendent.”
“Much better. And I agree.”
“But I know it’s not real,” she said.
He could go light. Funny.Wait, are you a witch? If it’s not real, does that mean it’s magic? Because I wholeheartedly agree about that, too.Instead, he went for a simple questioning echo. “Not real.”
