Read Rock Chick Page 12


  “You think I want a quick fuck?”

  I shook my head and bit my lip. Honestly, I didn’t know what he wanted but at that precise moment, I wasn’t going to say that.

  “You think I’d touch you unless it meant something?”

  Holy crap.

  I held my breath thinking about what that might mean, my eyes widened, the tears stinging them began to threaten to fill them.

  His hands moved from my face to my hips.

  “Christ, Indy, there’s more to me than this.” He yanked my hips, putting them in brutal, intimate contact with his and the hardness between them.

  He held me there for a minute and stared into my eyes.

  Then he said, “Forget it.”

  He put his hands on the couch, pushed himself up and got off me.

  “What?” I asked, dumbfounded, my body in temporary shock at the loss of the weight of his, my brain not caffeinated enough to think clearly.

  He stared down at me, his face hard and blank. Just like it was when it closed down when Dad asked him if he hit me.

  “Get dressed, I’ll take you home.”

  I blinked.

  “What?” I asked again.

  He hauled me off the couch and set me on my jellied legs.

  “I said, get dressed, pack your shit. I’ll take you home.”

  I blinked again. Then I did it again.

  Say what?

  “Hang on a second…” I started.

  He was walking away, muttering to himself. “I knew I shouldn’t have started this. You’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

  Um, say what?

  I narrowed my eyes at his back. “Excuse me?”

  He was gone.

  The tears were no longer threatening in my eyes, they’d filled them and they were flowing over. But instead of them being full of the confused emotions of a woman who was close to getting everything she ever wanted and was scared to death of it, they were tears of a pissed off woman-on-the-edge who was close to murdering someone.

  Emotional tears were unacceptable.

  Pissed off tears were perfectly fine, so I let them flow.

  I stomped into the bedroom and started to tear through it. I pulled on a pair of jeans, my bra and my Def Leppard T-shirt, my black belt and boots from the night before. I found my handbag sitting on my clothes in the armchair which Lee must have recovered for me last night.

  He’d get no thanks from me for that act of thoughtfulness.

  I shoved anything I found that was mine in my bag, rifling through drawers and the closet, making an utter mess along the way. I didn’t care, I was way beyond caring about tidiness.

  I went into the bathroom and got my face soap, he could keep the goddamn toothbrush, and saw that Lee was leaning against the doorjamb when I walked back into the room.

  “Ready?” he asked, his face stony.

  “Damn straight,” I answered, stalking to my bag and pushing stuff into it, zipping it with a vicious tug. “You’re a crazy man. You’re nuts. You and Tex should form a club. After years and years, you think you can crook your finger and I’d come running, no questions asked. I just wanted to talk! I wasn’t asking for an act of devotion akin to wrestling a tiger.” Some of my stuff poked out of the bag and I jammed it in and carried on with my rant. “Getting me all hot and bothered, twice…” I stopped and held up two fingers at him as he stood in the doorway, then I went back to my bag, lugged it up and looped the strap over my shoulder. “Then walking off leaving me that way. I’m more trouble than I’m worth? Ha!”

  I grabbed my handbag and stomped toward him, with the intention of going right by him.

  “Don’t bother taking me home. I’ll call a taxi. I’ll call Ally. I’ll call my Dad. No more favors from you!”

  I had made it to him and said (maybe yelled) the last bit up on my toes and leaning into his face.

  When I was done ranting, he stood in the doorway and I stood in front of him, too close for comfort. I was still crying and I was sure my face was red and wet with angry tears.

  “Get out of my way,” I demanded.

  He didn’t move.

  “I said, get out of my way!” I shouted.

  “Why are you crying?” he asked conversationally.

  “Because you piss me off.”

  “You’re crying because you’re angry?”

  “Seems like it, now get out of my way.”

  Quick as a flash, he grabbed my purse and threw it across the room.

  I watched it sail, land in the armchair again and then I turned back to him, eyes wide.

  “What the –” I started.

  He pulled the bag off my arm and also threw that across the room. It landed on the floor with a soft “phunf” a foot away from the armchair.

  I watched it go and then turned back to him. Words escaped me, so I just stared.

  His hands came up to my face, his thumbs running along the tears on my cheeks.

  “Stop crying,” he demanded.

  My mouth dropped open.

  “You can’t just tell me to stop crying,” I informed him.

  “How hot and bothered were you?” he asked.

  That was the time to try my “knee him in the balls” maneuver, I was pretty much sure of it.

  “Get out of my way,” I jerked my face out of his hands and started to walk back to my bags.

  He stopped me with a hand on my arm and swung me around.

  “Quit it!” I yelled as he pulled me to him. His face was no longer blank and stony, it was soft again and I was pretty certain he was a raving lunatic.

  “No. Now, I’m gonna take you to bed and make love to you. Later, we’re gonna go to your Dad’s barbeque. After that, we’ll talk.”

  I shook my head and tried to pull free. “Sorry, I have different plans for the day.”

  His arms slid around me. “Honey, it occurs to me from what you asked me earlier that you have the wrong impression about me. Today, I’m gonna show you who I am. Tonight, I’m gonna tell you what I want. Tomorrow, you can make up your mind.”

  I blinked at him.

  “I’ve known you all my life,” I reminded him.

  “You have no fucking clue.”

  I stared for a beat and fear, curiosity and elation shivered through me at the promise I saw in his face.

  I shook my head. “I have to go to the bookstore, get Tod and Stevie’s car, make macaroni salad.”

  “Matt returned your neighbor’s car last night. Ally can go to the Fortnum’s. King Soopers has macaroni salad.”

  “No.”

  One of his hands slid into my hair and pulled my head back and to the side, exposing my neck. His mouth, all of sudden, was there.

  “Yes,” he said against my neck while walking me back to the bed.

  “Stop it, you’re crazy! One second you tell me to pack my bags, the next second you’re on me like white on rice.”

  The backs of my knees hit the bed and we both went down, him on top of me, his lips on mine. “Gorgeous, give me ten minutes and I’ll be in you.”

  At that promise, and him calling me “gorgeous”, an electric spasm went straight through my lower belly and he kissed me and that was it.

  I’m a slut. I don’t know what to say, even with the emotional scene, I gave in.

  To tell you the whole truth, I wanted him to show me who he was and tell me what he wanted, and I didn’t want to wait another second to find out.

  And then the buzzer went. Three quick blasts and then one long one.

  Lee stopped kissing me and put his forehead on mine. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “It’s code, urgent, God dammit.” He put his hands on either side of me, pushed up and started to walk away then turned back. “How hot and bothered are you now?”

  “On a scale of one to ten?”

  His eyes crinkled at the corners and he walked out of the room.

  Fucking Lee.

 
* * * * *

  I laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling thinking to myself, what was that?

  My cell phone was ringing, so I rolled off the bed, grabbed my bag, sat in the chair and saw it was Andrea. Probably calling for a Lee and Indy Sex Update. Boy, was she going to be disappointed.

  I answered the phone with, “No, we haven’t done it yet.”

  “Uh-oh, I feel bad vibes,” Andrea said.

  “We’re on the phone, how can you feel bad vibes?” I asked.

  “I’ve known you since you were twelve, I can sense bad vibes.”

  So I told her. About Lee, about his getting pissed off and essentially kicking me out, then changing his mind again and the whole, “who I am, what I want, you decide” speech.

  Andrea was silent for a moment and then she said, “Well, he’s fighting his reputation. And that man has a reputation. Only boy worse than him was his best friend Eddie, it was like they were in a competition to see who was the worst rutting dawg out there. Can’t be fun to be practically famous for fucking anything that breathes and being able to do so by expending the immense effort of just sending a smile their way. Then, later, you find yourself in a position where you’re serious about a woman who’s known you all your life and knows this fact real well and have to convince her you’re serious.”

  Man, Andrea was a mother and she still had a mouth on her.

  Still, it was true.

  I sat down in the chair and I tried to ignore the fact that my stomach was clenched.

  “Do you think he’s serious?”

  Andrea was silent for a second. “Are you being funny?”

  “Funny ‘ha ha’ or the other kind of funny?” I asked.

  “I can’t believe…” Andrea started, “girl, at Kitty Sue and Malcolm’s New Year’s Bash you were there with what’s-his-name…”

  Oh Lord, I didn’t remember his name. “Um,” I said, “Brad? Brett?”

  “Whatever,” Andrea cut in. “Anyway, when Lee wasn’t looking at you with a look in his eyes that, let’s face it, made every woman in the room breathe heavy, he was looking at Brad-Brett like he wanted to rip his head off.”

  “No way!”

  “Way.”

  Holy shit.

  “So yeah, I think he’s serious,” she went on. “And I can’t imagine that Liam Nightingale is the kind of guy who appreciates the woman he’s serious about questioning his seriousness when he’s right in the middle of… you know.”

  Holy shit.

  Holy, holy, shit, shit, shit.

  “Anyway, call me when you actually get around to doing it. I want details.”

  Great.

  Andrea disconnected and I flipped the phone shut. It rang again immediately.

  It was Ally.

  I took a deep breath, pretending everything was all right (which it wasn’t) and answered, “What’s up, chickie?”

  “Girl, I’ve had half a dozen calls, everyone’s seen Rosie and Duke. We got leads coming out of our ears. We gotta roll.”

  I immediately got excited. I had to admit, I was kind of digging this super-sleuth stuff.

  Then I remembered last night.

  I let out a sigh.

  “No can do. Tex, the cat sitter, and me kinda broke into Tim’s last night and found him dead in his kitchen and it wasn’t pretty.”

  Ally was silent for a beat and then she said, “You went without me? You went with the crazy cat sitter?”

  “I was breaking and entering! Tex showed up in the middle of it. We found Tim dead, Ally. Trust me, be glad you weren’t there. This is over. Lee’s turned it over to Hank.”

  “What about your bet?” Ally asked.

  I thought about Lee’s plans for the day. I thought about what Andrea said.

  “I think I lost.”

  Truthfully, I wasn’t too broken up about it.

  “Well, at least that’s a piece of good news.”

  I told her about Fortnum’s and she told me she’d call Jane if I put up the sign. Then I flipped the phone shut and walked into the kitchen.

  Matt was there and so was another guy. The other guy was at least six foot six and looked like Tex’s son, except without the beard and with a little bit more of his mental health intact.

  Matt said, “Hey.”

  I tilted my head and smiled.

  “Hey yourself.”

  Lee was standing in the kitchen with his fists at his hips and he watched this exchange, his mouth set.

  I noticed, belatedly, that Lee had already showered that morning, his dark hair was still slightly damp, curling a bit along his neck and behind his ear. I also noted he needed a haircut but it looked good on him. Very good. Too good. He wore supremely faded jeans and a red t-shirt that was tight in all the right places. His feet were bare.

  When I got within reaching distance, his arm shot out and pulled me to him with a hand hooked around my neck. My front pretty much slammed against his side and his arm curled further around my shoulders. From the blood draining out of Matt’s face, I’d say that the Lee’s point had been made. If he banged on his chest and grunted, “Indy, my woman,” he wouldn’t have made the point any better.

  Men.

  Lee introduced the other guy as Bobby and then said, “We’ve found Duke.”

  My stomach clenched and my body tensed. At that point, I simply could not handle bad news, especially about Duke.

  I tilted my head to look up at Lee and before I could control my reaction and not look like a total girl in front of the guys, I breathed, “Please.”

  Lee’s eyes went that melty-chocolate again as he looked at me and his hand went from my shoulder to stroke my jaw.

  “He’s fine, took a bender detour to Sturgis. He’s been briefed and he’s on his way home now.”

  That sounded like Duke. Only Duke would detour from the Western Slope of Colorado to South Dakota for a bender.

  The door buzzer went and I disengaged from Lee to answer it. It was Hank.

  Hank smiled his greeting at the door I opened for him and we walked in, his arm slung around my shoulders.

  “I guess you were wrong about being broken up with Lee by your Dad’s barbeque,” he teased.

  My eyes shot to Lee and his eyebrows went up.

  Oopsie.

  “Yeah, guess I was wrong,” I muttered.

  Hank dropped his arm and looked at Lee, no more teasing, all business.

  “We gotta talk about last night.”

  “Yeah?” Lee said.

  “Anyone want coffee?” I asked.

  Hank’s eyes slid to me, then back to Lee.

  “Maybe we should go into the Command Center,” Hank said.

  Lee’s lips twitched at Hank’s reference to the Command Center but he said, “You can talk in front of Indy.”

  Hank quickly sucked some breath into his nose and then on an exhalation said, “I was afraid of that.”

  I passed coffee all around, everyone took it black except me. I jumped up on the counter to listen.

  “They think they caught a break. Shubert had been dead more than a day, looks professional, but they found fresh blood at scene. Whoever broke in cut themselves at the window. They’re hoping that the killer went back in search of something.”

  Without thinking, I looked to my shoulder, where I’d landed on the glass, pulling back my tee to see if I’d been cut. I hadn’t noticed any cuts or felt any but the time since the break-in had been pretty filled up with emotional mayhem, a cut could go unnoticed.

  Then it hit me how very, very stupid I was and I turned, slowly, back to the men.

  Lee had a hand at his waist, the other one holding the mug and he was looking at his feet. I was pretty sure he was trying not to smile (at least I hoped so). Matt and Bobby, who were undoubtedly recruited for clean up last night and knew the whole story, were both watching me and smiling, flat out.

  Hank was staring at me like I was a particularly gruesome roadside accident.

  Hank’s eyes swung to Lee.<
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  “I was worried it was yours.”

  Both Matt and Bobby pulled in breath at this shocking statement.

  Even Lee was incredulous. “I wouldn’t leave blood at a scene. Hell, I wouldn’t even break a fucking window.”

  I stared at Lee, wondering uncomfortably how often he had the opportunity to “leave blood at a scene”.

  Hank’s eyes swung back to me.

  Uh-oh.

  “Please tell me you didn’t have anything to do with this.”

  I tried to look innocent. Since I was not, it was hard. Especially with Hank, Hank was a smart guy and he knew me too well.

  “With what?” I asked.

  “Indy, I swear to God –” Hank started.

  Lee’s coffee cup hit the counter, he grabbed mine and set it down, pulled me off the counter and into the bedroom, where he closed the door.

  “Shirt off,” he demanded.

  “What? Now?” I stared at him, confused.

  Lightening quick, he had the shirt pulled over my head. At this point, I was pretty glad I put on my bra.

  “Where’d you land?” he asked and I stared at him. “When Tex threw you through the window, where’d you land?”

  Oh. That’s what he was on about.

  “Back right shoulder,” I told him.

  He whipped me around and his hands roamed my skin, then before I knew what he was about, they came around to the front and undid my jeans and the jeans were down to my ankles.

  “For goodness sake, Lee!” I cried.

  He’d disrobed me in nary a second. I would have thought it was impossible if he hadn’t just done it.

  I tried to bend over and grab my jeans but his hands were all business and running down the backs of my hips, thighs and calves.

  He pulled up my jeans and turned me again. Pulling my hands away from doing up my fly, he checked the palms.

  “You’re clean,” he announced.

  “Thank you,” I said it snippy, as I should, as anyone should.

  His hands ran up my sides, forcing my arms over my head and he put my shirt back on me. I finished my zip, buttoned my jeans and hooked my belt buckle.

  “Was that really necessary?” I snapped.

  He smiled The Smile, pleased with himself.

  “Nope, but it was fun.”