Chloe Babineaux Private Investigator

  Chapter Eleven

  It was morning. I knew it was morning because I could see light coming in from behind my curtain. I turned over and yelled, “Ahh! What are you doing in my bed!”

  Rick opened one and eye and said, “I usually don’t get this reaction from women.”

  I shot daggers with my eyes and said, “I don’t usually wake up with an uninvited man in my bed.” I groaned and grabbed my head.

  He grinned and said, “You drank too much last night.” How can he smile so brightly in the morning?

  “No. You think? Whatever makes you say that? Could it be the bags under my eyes or the lovely complexion of my skin? How about my sunny disposition?” I had my eyes closed and used my hands to squeeze my head together.

  “It’s time to get up anyway,” he said with a laugh while sitting up. “Do you mind making coffee while I take a shower?”

  “Whoa. Do you have anything…?” I said not tearing my eyes away from his bare back.

  “Relax, sunshine, I have on boxers.” He looked over his shoulder and smiled. A straight-lined scar went all the around both shoulders in addition to several faded scars on his muscled back. Muscles on his back? I have no muscles anywhere. I would so like to know what happened to him while captured. Captured? He didn’t tell me he was captured. Did he? I was pretty sure he didn’t. I was also pretty sure he wouldn’t tell me anything about it if I asked.

  “You take over my bed…why are you in my bed?” His bareback threw me. I had to bring myself back into the present.

  “You have an uncomfortable couch. I thought, why not sleep in here?” He had stopped at the bathroom door and turned to talk to me. Man, I wish I didn’t have such a hangover.

  “Oh gee, I don’t know. Maybe because it was my bed and I was in it?” He grinned, raised an eyebrow then walked into the bathroom. I heard the shower come on and I crawled out of bed. I was amazed I was able to say anything that morning. Not only did I have a massive headache but his body made my eyes sweat.

  I glanced at myself in the mirror as I walked passed it and groaned. My hair was flying all around my head, and I looked as bad as thought I did. Although, I looked this bad and he grinned at me. No, he wasn’t grinning, he was probably laughing at my hair and my sweatshirt and pants. I know I would be laughing if I didn’t feel as though I had a mouth full of cactus. Whatdoyaknow, I can feel my tongue now. I shuffled to the kitchen and made coffee. Lots of coffee. While it was brewing and I couldn’t get into my shower, I watched the news or something like that. Evidently, he had turned it to CNN before climbing in my bed. It seemed the world didn’t come to an end last night, but my world was coming apart at the seams.

  I poured a mug of coffee and was waiting for it to cool when I heard the shower turn off. Great. Now what?

  I heard him come into the kitchen and walk to the coffee maker. I turned from the sofa to look at him, and he looked nice with his damp hair.

  He needed to shave, and all I had was a razor, I didn’t have shaving cream.

  “Nice hair, sugar buns.” He laughed. “By the way do you have a razor I can use?”

  I grimaced and said, “It’s a good thing you wear the same thing every day to work, sugar…uh, forget it my brain isn’t firing on all cylinders. Yes, I have a razor, but I don’t have shaving cream.”

  “I can make do.” He laughed. “I’ll shave after you take a shower. That is if you want to take one now.” I nodded and walked as fast as I could without my head falling off.

  I had brought clothes into the bathroom with me so I could dress without mooning Rick if he should open the bedroom door. I brushed my hair out and was blow drying it in the bedroom when he walked in to shave. My head felt a little better because I had thrown up. I applied makeup but even if I had caked it on an inch thick, the bags under my eyes were still going to be baggy.

  I finished drying my hair, and he had shaved. He then poured another mug of coffee for the both of us. He was taking over my kitchen like he had experience taking over women’s kitchens. Actually, I was glad he was doing it himself and not asking me to do it.

  When I had dressed, I walked into the kitchen. He smiled and said, “I have to go now.” He took my hand pulled me to the door with him. He opened the door, pulled me to him and was thoroughly kissing me when my next door neighbor opened his door.

  Greasy Tryston Collins came out of his apartment grinning his goofy grin. He was twenty-two and works at the Chrystal Movie Theatre. I was sure his parents paid his rent to keep him out of their house. “It’s about time I saw a man coming out of your place Chloe. I thought I was gonna have to put the moves on you to get you in a better mood.”

  I reluctantly pulled away from Rick and glared at Tryston. “Lack of sex is not the reason I get in a bad mood around you, Tryston.” I noticed a woman coming out of his door pulling a rolling bag. The twit is hopeless. “You moron. You’re gonna talk about having sex with me while I’m kissing a man and you have a woman leaving your apartment.”

  Rick was looking at him like, ‘You are a moron.’ The mysterious woman was holding up her free hand waving with wide eyes. Moron glanced over his shoulder and said, “That’s just my sister, and I wasn’t really talking about having sex with you. I was just saying it’s about time you got some.” He shook his head and muttered, “Man! You’d think after gittin’ laid she’d be in a better mood.”

  As the woman walked closer to us, I shook my head and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know he was your brother.”

  “No worries,” she said, smiling, “he really is a moron. I came threw Alexandria on business. Our parents were out of town, so I stayed with Tryston.” We all laughed except for Tryston. He was already clomping down the stairs in a funk. She smiled again and followed her brother down the stairs.

  Rick put his hand around my waist, turned me toward him and asked, “Do you eat pizza?”

  “Yes, but I don’t care for pepperoni, pineapple or anchovies on my pizza.” I hesitated, shook my head, and said, “Wait a minute, we can’t be seen together. Or ever. And I don’t want to.” I shook my head in wonderment, ow, that hurt, and asked, “Why was I even kissing you?”

  “I can bring pizza.” He grinned. “You do, and you enjoyed kissing me because I enjoyed kissing you.”

  “Well…you can’t stay the night,” I said, narrowing my eyes. Yes, I enjoyed kissing him, and yes I knew it was wrong for me to want to see him.

  “Okay. If you don’t want me to, I won’t. But I do have to change before coming over.” He kissed me again and then said, “Later, sugar buns.”

  I couldn’t help but grin when he said that. It was just so stupid and unlike me to allow a man to call me sugar buns. I mean, I was the one that usually says silly things like that. I said it because I knew it annoyed the hell out of people. I watched him walk to his truck then turn toward me and waved. Dang. He turned around and saw me still standing there. I should have gone inside before he turned around.