Shiver

  “Before everyone gets here, why don’t you tell me about Blake Mercier.” She took a moment to check on one of the herb pots near the sink. I’d actually made the pot itself in elementary school, so it wasn’t the best quality, but Clear loved it. “You said you weren’t dating him, but the things I recently heard tell a different story.”

  “When you last asked about him, I wasn’t dating him.” Instead of telling her about the ‘arrangement,’ I added, “I originally didn’t intend to have anything at all to do with him. He just wouldn’t let it go.”

  Clear’s face went all dreamy. “He pursued you.”

  “Not in a romantic way. He was pushy and annoying.”

  Her lips thinned. “He just wanted sex.”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “But that’s changed?”

  Folding my arms on the table, I rested my chin on them. “Yes.”

  “How much do you like him?”

  I thumbed a bead of condensation from my glass. “A lot.”

  She stared at me, her lips pursed. “I’d like to meet him.”

  “That’s good. He wants to meet you.”

  “He does? Interesting.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Invite him to come for dinner on Sunday.”

  Lifting my head, I sighed. “All right, but just don’t ask him what his damn intentions are or something weird like that. This is early stages. We’re feeling our way. I don’t need you scaring him by talking marriage or kids.”

  She snickered. “If I scare him off, it just shows he’s not good enough for you.”

  “Mom.”

  “Fine, fine.”

  “And please don’t talk about Michael.”

  Now she looked hurt. “Why not?”

  “Blake knows about him, but that doesn’t mean I want you shoving it under his nose, talking like we’re one big, happy family.” It would just be weird and uncomfortable.

  She dropped her gaze. “I know you think I shouldn’t have married Michael. I know you feel that it was selfish and cruel to you, but if you’d seen the way he was with you when I first took you to see him … He fell head over heels in love with you right there. Made you smile and giggle and blow raspberries at him. It felt right. Felt like we were all exactly where we were supposed to be in that moment.”

  “He killed thirty-two women so, yeah, he was exactly where he was supposed to be. Prison. He’ll always deserve to be there. The relationship you have with him …” It was a mockery of what a relationship should be, but I didn’t say that. It would fall on deaf ears. “If he’s what makes you happy, fine. Because I love you, I accept that, even though I don’t like it. But expecting other people to understand and accept it is unfair, Mom. So I’m asking you not to mention Michael to Blake and let him get used to the situation on his own.”

  Her mouth flattened. “All right. But if he asks—” She quieted on hearing a knock at the door. “You let them in, I’ll plate this up. After we’ve eaten, the floor is yours.”

  I was glad she hadn’t insisted on hearing me out before we ate. She didn’t seem the least bit uneasy, so I had to conclude that she was clinging to the idea that Ricky was gone. I decided to to let her enjoy that illusion of safety just a little longer.

  Sherry, however, hadn’t looked happy that she’d need to wait. Then again, she’d had to watch me stress-clean the bar for hours on end, so it was no wonder that she wanted the mystery revealed.

  After the meal was over, we all settled in the living area with coffees. And then I told them exactly what I’d told Sarah, minus the juicy details about me and Blake, of course.

  Dodger folded his arms across his chest. “So, what you’re saying is that we can’t really be sure who’s been messing with you all this time?”

  “Unfortunately, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still leaning toward Ricky. Just because Linton was hanging around Blake’s club doesn’t mean he was the one who called me.”

  “But it is suspicious that he’d go there,” said Sherry.

  I nodded. “I left a message on Linton’s answering machine, saying I’d changed my mind and I wanted to talk to him.”

  “What?” exploded Dodger. “Kensey, the guy could be stalking you, and you want to talk to him?”

  “I’m not being stalked.” Ignoring Sarah’s snort, I continued, “And, no, I don’t want to talk to him. But I need to bring him out into the open so that Blake can speak with him, which is why I suggested to Linton that he and I can meet in a public place. I won’t mention that Blake will make an appearance, of course.”

  Sherry gave a nod of approval. “If anyone can scare him off, it’s Blake. If Linton’s answers don’t satisfy Blake, the fucker will get his ass kicked—I’m all for that plan.”

  Cade tilted his head. “Do you think Linton can be chased away?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. But it’s worth a shot.” I turned to Clear, who hadn’t yet spoken a word. Gently, I asked, “Mom, how often does Linton bother you?”

  She rubbed her arms. “He doesn’t, really,” she said, voice shaky.

  Her answer surprised me. “He didn’t try cornering you outside the library the day we talked there?”

  Her brow creased slightly. “No. I didn’t see him at all. He leaves me voicemails, pushing me to talk to him. Even offered me money recently.”

  I winced, thinking I’d probably given him that idea.

  “But the last time we physically spoke was a while ago.” She took a long, ragged breath. “Kensey, I’d feel a whole lot better if you moved in with me for a while. I don’t like the thought of you alone in that apartment, especially at night.”

  “I can’t, Mom. Hear me out. I agree with Sarah—this person wants me isolated. If I was living with someone, I’d be the opposite of isolated. In other words, if I were to move in here, he could take out his frustrations on you.”

  “I don’t care. You’re my daughter. It’s my job to protect you.”

  Sherry put a hand over Clear’s. “Kensey has protection right now. Blake won’t let anything happen to her.” Sherry sighed at me. “Can’t say I think he’s good enough for you. I don’t. But I am confident that he has the resources to untangle this mess and locate the fucker upsetting you.”

  “He’d better,” growled Dodger.

  I turned back to Clear. “Mom, I need you to be careful around Linton, okay? If he tries talking to you, just keep walking and ignore him. Call me or Sherry if he does anything that scares you or even just makes you nervous.” I didn’t bother telling her to call the police—they wouldn’t heed her. “Okay?”

  She nodded. “Okay.” Then she started crying, but I’d known that was coming. Rather than coddle her, I said, “I’ll just give you a minute and go do the dishes.”

  Her eyes snapped open, wide with something close to panic. “What? No.” Because she had her own way of washing dishes.

  “Well then, we’ll do them together,” I said, knowing that cleaning would give her back a sense of order and control.

  By the time we were done, she’d gotten herself together. But I didn’t revisit the who-the-hell-is-messing-with-me subject and instead asked how her last visit with Michael went. He was a topic that was always guaranteed to lift her mood.

  Sherry, Dodger, Sarah, and Cade left around seven-thirty, but I stayed until eight, just as I’d planned.

  Clear walked onto the porch with me as I was leaving and said, “I spoke to your dad on the phone yesterday. He’s worried about you. He’s not going to like hearing that we can’t know for sure who’s upsetting you. It devastates him that he can’t protect you.”

  I inwardly frowned, thinking it was probably best that he couldn’t, since he had homicidal tendencies and all.

  “Be careful, sweetie.” She gave me a tight hug. “Love you.”

  I patted her back. “You, too.”

  “My, my, my, who might this be?”

  Pulling out of her arms, I turned. And my breath
hitched as I saw that Blake had climbed out of Rossi’s car and was now talking with him through the lowered window.

  With a quick beep of his horn, Rossi disappeared down the road. Blake then stalked up the path toward us, eyes fixed on mine. Maybe he hadn’t trusted me to arrange a meeting with Clear or something and was taking the matter into his own hands.

  Smooth as ever, he reached out, took my hand, and drew me neatly to his side. “You’re ready on time. That’s unusual for you.”

  I sniffed at him, even though he was totally right.

  He turned to Clear. “You must be Kensey’s mother.”

  “And you must be Blake.” She studied him from head to toe, taking in the well-ironed button-down shirt, tailored slacks, and gleaming shoes. I knew she’d like what she saw—a man who looked smart, well-groomed, and refined. He ticked her neat-freak boxes just fine.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Lyons,” said Blake.

  “Likewise. I’ve heard a little about you. I understand you’re dating my daughter—now that you’ve seen she’s worth more than casual sex, I mean.”

  I winced, but Blake’s mouth twitched.

  “I always knew she was worth more, Ms. Lyons. I just wasn’t sure I could give it to her.”

  She lifted a brow. “And now you are?”

  “Now I am.”

  She eyed him in silence for a few moments. “You should both come for dinner on Sunday. It’ll be nice to talk more with you, Blake.”

  Mouth curving, he said, “I’ll be there.” He tugged me down the path and, to my surprise, easily slid into the passenger seat of my car.

  Climbing inside, I clicked on my seat belt and said, “You handled her well.”

  “I only said the truth.”

  I gave her one last wave before pulling onto the road. “I’m surprised you didn’t insist on driving.”

  He linked his fingers behind his head. “If I have to watch the road, I can’t watch you.”

  And he did watch me. The heat of his gaze made my blood thicken, and I was incredibly aware of him sat so close. Close enough to touch and taste and—

  I saw red and blue flashing lights in my rear-view mirror. Taking one look at the driver, I groaned. “Oh, here we go.”

  Blake tensed. “What?”

  “It’s just Joshua Buchanan,” I said as I brought the car to a stop. “He likes to pull me over, just to be a dick. Does the same thing every time—asks to see my license and registration, and peppers me with questions. Although he did go off-script last time. He asked me to take a Breathalyzer test to be sure I wasn’t drunk. He never charges me with anything. Just does it to fuck with me for his own amusement.”

  “Does he now?”

  The silky menace in Blake’s words had my head whipping to the side to look at him. But there was no anger in his expression. In fact, there was nothing at all there. Just a blank mask.

  I almost jumped at the tap of a finger on my window. As I lowered it, Joshua grinned and said, “Well, Miss Lyons.”

  Biting back the soul-deep urge to tell him to come back when his balls dropped, I said, “Office Buchanan. Lovely night, isn’t it?”

  “It is. And it seems you have someone with—” Joshua cut off as he peered inside the car. “Blake?” He said the name with a familiarity that told me he knew Blake. Really, really knew him. Joshua licked his lips, losing some of his bluster. “I didn’t realize you knew Miss Lyons.”

  “I’m surprised Libby didn’t tell you,” said Blake. “There something we can do for you?” Again, there was a hint of menace in his tone.

  Joshua’s mouth tightened, and I could almost see him wrestling with his pride. When he lifted his chin, I knew that pride had won. “I just need to ask Miss Lyons some standard questions.”

  “That was the wrong answer.” Blake opened the passenger door. “Stay inside, Kensey.”

  Eyes wide, I reached for him. “Blake—” But he was already out of the car. Shit.

  Joshua backed away from my window and turned to face Blake as he rounded the car. “Look, I have a job to do—”

  “What you have is a problem with Kensey.” Blake stepped into his personal space. “Which means you now also have a problem with me.”

  Reading the situation accurately, Joshua gaped. “You’re with her? Do you even know who she is? God, Blake, her father is a goddamn serial killer.”

  “Maxwell went on a killing rampage? When did this happen?”

  Cheeks reddening with rage, Joshua clenched his fists. “She’s not Maxwell’s daughter. She’s nothing to do with my family.”

  “So why in hell can’t you and your ex leave her the fuck alone?”

  Joshua’s mouth snapped shut.

  “You have the same problem that the rest of your family has—you think you’re fucking special. To me, you’re nothing. No one. Kensey, however, is someone to me. She’s mine. And if you think you can pull stunts like this, you can think a-fucking-gain. You have ten seconds—no more, no less—to get out of my goddamn sight. If you don’t, I’ll put you through a world of pain so you don’t ever make the mistake of repeating this shit. And believe me, Buchanan, you don’t want that.” Then he whispered something. Something too low for me to catch.

  Swallowing, Joshua looked from Blake to me … and then he stormed to his patrol car and was gone in a screech of tires. As I watched him drive off, I wondered what the hell had just happened.

  Blake returned to the car, eyes hard as ice. “You okay?”

  “What in the ever-loving fuck was that?”

  His brows drew together. “What?”

  “You just threatened a cop. A whiny-ass bully of a cop who takes great joy in abusing his position of power. But he didn’t arrest you. Didn’t even give you a warning. Why?”

  “He knows better.”

  What did that even mean? I just stared at Blake, hoping he’d elaborate. He didn’t.

  His hand rubbed my knee. “Drive, baby.”

  “How does he know you?”

  “Lots of people know me.”

  I ground my teeth. “Why is he so afraid of you?”

  Blake sifted his fingers through my hair. “As you said, he’s a bully. Bullies are cowards at heart. They know from experience when they’re dealing with someone they don’t have a hope of taking on. You think if he arrested me I’d ever get charged with anything?”

  Considering he could afford shit-hot lawyers, probably not, but … “It’s more than that. You have something on Joshua, don’t you?”

  He squeezed my thigh. “You know there are things I can’t tell you.” The gentle reminder held an edge that told me to drop it.

  “Won’t tell me,” I corrected. “You haven’t known me long enough to trust me with any secrets—I get that. I would never expect you to share things with someone you don’t fully trust. But I can’t say it doesn’t hurt that you keep secrets when I’m an open book to you.”

  “I would never describe you as an open book. You’re very good at hiding what you’re thinking and feeling. You continuously surprise me to the point that I’ve given up trying to understand how your mind works. But your body … that I can read very well. Read and manipulate and control.” The hand on my thigh slid all the way up to my pussy. “Fuck, I wish you had a skirt on right now instead of these jeans. I’d be able to finger-fuck you all the way home.”

  “Now you’re trying to distract me.”

  Leaning toward me, he brushed his mouth over mine. “I told you, I’ll lay everything out for you one day.”

  “How far in the future are we talking?”

  He pursed his lips. “I don’t know.”

  Well, at least he wasn’t trying to appease me with platitudes and excuses. I faced forward, wondering if he’d ever be ready to tell me, and said, “Let’s just go.”

  He curled his hand around my chin, turned my face back to his, and kissed me. Hard. Deep. Demanding the response he wanted. At first, I was just too pissed to give it to him. But his tongue and te
eth melted all the resistance and tension out of me, and soon I was kissing him back just as hard.

  “There she is,” he said. “My good girl.” He bit my bottom lip and then laved it with his tongue. “I know nothing about me is easy, Kensey. I can’t change who I am. But I really do think you’d be bored with easy.”

  The thing was … he was right.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Given that Blake was absolutely insatiable—I had no complaints about that, by the way—I’d expected him to guide me straight to the bedroom. Instead, he led me into the kitchen and over to a stool at the island.

  He poured us both a glass of wine and then set mine in front of me. “Drink,” he said. “You look like you need it.”

  I did need it. The day had been emotionally tiring. I took a long sip of wine before asking, “How was your lunch with Bastien and Tara? Productive?”

  “Bastien couldn’t make it, so it was just me and Tara. Yes, it was productive.”

  I hid my annoyance at the idea of them having lunch alone, pissed that I could be so petty. Of course, I really wanted him to elaborate on ‘productive,’ but I knew he wouldn’t. I could see that he was expecting me to ask anyway. Instead, I asked sweetly, “What did you order?”

  His eyes gleamed. “Mushroom Carbonara.”

  My nose wrinkled. “Never liked mushrooms.”

  He took a drink from his glass. “What did you have for lunch?”

  “Cade bought us all deli sandwiches.”

  “Nice of him,” Blake said, tone flat. “Does that mean you ate together?”

  “Sarah and Reed ate with us too. Don’t give me that look. I haven’t moaned that you had lunch with Tara.”

  “I haven’t slept with Tara.”

  “You could if you wanted to,” I said with a pissy snort. “She’d be totally up for it.”

  “I told you, she’s—”

  “You’re a smart guy, Blake. Surely it’s crossed your mind that she lures women away from you because she doesn’t like seeing you with others.”

  He hesitated just long enough for me to be sure I was right. “If she was interested in me that way, she’d have made it clear by now.”