Bought His Life (13 page)

“I’m sure.” He nodded, wondering if she realized what a wilderness the place had been fifty years before she’d come there.

“I met Betty, and she got me a job as a waitress. She rather adopted us. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her help.”

“Betty seems great.”

“She is, and I love her so much.” Emily’s face softened as she spoke about the other woman. Their loving relationship was evident. “I’m willing to bet she’ll come in before lunch to help us out. She never leaves me stranded.”

I won’t either.

“You’re lucky to have her,” was all he said, looking around the restaurant.

Shifting her weight, Emily wrapped her delicate fingers around the mug. “Well, it’s you and me until Ricky comes in at ten. It should be just a few toasted bagels and coffee. You think you could handle the kitchen?”

“Yes, I can handle the kitchen. When I entered the service, I spent a year cooking for hundreds of men.”

A smile crossed her face, and her eyes twinkled. “My brother was in the Army.”

“I’m Navy. I would’ve liked to have met your brother.”

“Yeah, despite your different lifestyles, I think you would have gotten along.”

This was the second or third reference she’d made to men like him. What was so peculiar about him and his kind? Did it show that he was so unfamiliar with modern amenities others took for granted?

He’d find a way to blend. He’d make her realize he was her kind.

Chapter Fourteen

Kimber reached for Lawson, but he wasn’t there. Instead of finding a hot man beside her, she found a note. Squinting, she read the scribble.

Stay here.

I’ll be back shortly.

Lawson

She smiled. Perhaps he thought she had all day to lollygag in bed, but she had work to do.

Rising from the comfort of the warm bed, she started collecting the clothes scattered across the room. Where the hell was her bra? And where the hell had he put her gun?

She saw her carryall on the dresser. “You’re a sweetheart, Lawson,” she muttered happily, and dropped the clothes in a pile on an armchair. She flipped open the manila file and pulled her cell phone from the tote.

Turning on the TV, she watched the news as she reviewed her investigation notes. She still had to go to the Marathon Sheriff’s station and get the college kids’ report, and she needed to search the beach where the suspects had reportedly swam to shore. Perhaps she would find a clue that would get her closer to solving this case.

Going into the bathroom, she brushed her teeth and washed her face. Later, she’d stop at Em’s for a shower and change. Perhaps she’d get her suitcase and bring it here. She wondered if Lawson would like it if she spent the rest of her work-slash-vacation with him at the Flamingo. Then again, she didn’t want to seem too clingy.

“In local news, law enforcement officials are searching for information pertaining to a violent shootout that occurred early yesterday evening outside the infamous Bearded Cockle bar.”

Shit. Jackson was going to kill her
.

She rushed into the room for the details. Thankfully, the police didn’t have much to go on. No bodies, no blood, not even a license plate or any paperwork identifying the owner of the Hummer. Relief rushed over her. Lawson hadn’t killed anyone. She laughed when the reporter stated that the patrons at the bar didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

Once dressed, she tore the room apart looking for her gun. No luck. She checked her carryall, but there was no weapon, and no car keys, either. Lawson must have taken them when he left. Why, she didn’t know.

Did he think she’d fuck him, shoot him and leave?

Her holster felt empty without her weapon. “Damn it, Lawson. You don’t take a woman’s gun,” she said to the ceiling.

A tinge of panic spiked her adrenaline. Lawson knew how to handle a gun very well—too well. She wished she’d taken the time to ask him what he did for a living.

Kimber shook her head. Lawson seemed more like the law-enforcement type than the criminal type. She’d slept with hardened criminals while undercover, and they weren’t the sort to make tender love; they wouldn’t have ever taken the time to touch and caress her body and see to her pleasure first the way Lawson had last night. And they definitely wouldn’t have drawn her into their arms and lulled her to sleep. Last night was the first time she’d slept the night through, and the first time she’d slept without nightmares.

She smiled. Perhaps when she saw Lawson again, she’d put her handcuffs on him good and tight and teach him a lesson about taking things that didn’t belong to him. And, of course, she’d have to perform a strip search and investigate every angle of his body just to be sure he wasn’t hiding any illegal substances. Maybe he’d try to bribe her. And maybe she’d let him go, but only if the price was right. Her panties dampened at the picture in her mind.

Work first, play later,
she scolded herself for indulging in thoughts of the sexy man.

Grabbing her carryall, she headed for the back of the hotel, running the logistics through her brain. She could get her spare firearm from Em’s, but her Mustang had still better be there. She’d kick his ass if he’d taken her car.

Thankfully, her vehicle was still tucked in the tiny alcove behind the motel. She felt around the passenger side-wheel well, exhaling a sigh of relief when she found the small magnetic box that held her spare key.

She headed to Em’s for some much-needed coffee to get her rolling.

* * * *

Kimber strolled into
Emy’s Place
and poured herself a cup of coffee. Jack watched her stir in three packets of sugar while she waited for Emily to join her.

“Did Jen finish the history paper that was due today?” Kimber asked, raising the paper cup to her mouth.

“Not only did she finish, she had it printed out and in one of those plastic report binders when Pops dropped her off. She’s psyched,” Emily said, clasping her hands and drawing them to her chest. “The only problem is that she wants me to take her to some museum in Broward for more research.”

“Jen wants to go to a museum?”

“Yup. The Naval Air Station in Fort Lauderdale.” Emily refreshed her coffee and leaned on the counter across from Kimber. “She wants to research a flight that went missing over the Bermuda Triangle. She even ordered a show on television and talked about some controversial disappearance before the bus arrived this morning.”

“Inquiring minds want to know,” Kimber said, a proud expression on her pretty face.

“I’d much rather she inquire about something else. I don’t want to encourage her interest in the military or anything law enforcement.”

“Oh, come on, Em. Nothing wrong with it. It’s honorable.”

“It got Scott killed.” Emily’s shoulders squared, but she immediately dropped them and reached for Kimber’s hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. And I know you miss him terribly, but I can’t help it. He was taken from us too soon. He should be here.”

“I know he should.” Kimber brushed a fingertip over the corner of her eye. “But that doesn’t mean I would change a single minute of his life. I was so lucky to have him as long as I did. I know that now.”

“True,” Emily agreed. “When I was a kid, I was in awe of how the two of you were joined at the hip and always so happy. When you got married, I wanted the same kind of relationship. I just never found someone to understand me like that. You know, someone who knows what I want even before I do.”

“Yeah, Scott had a way of knowing. He was special.”

Even though he wanted to know more about Emily’s past, Jack felt that he’d intruded on the women’s private conversation. He walked away from the window and stepped to the three-compartment sink to wash the breakfast skillets.

Just as Emily had predicted, Betty walked in chipper and ready for work at eleven. Jack had handled the morning customers and prepped all the sides on the specials board for Ricky.

Things were going unbelievably well. Too bad she thought of him as prim and proper, because that wasn’t what he had in mind when it came to Emily. Not that he’d take advantage of her, but he got the feeling they had more than mere physical compatibility in common. Or at least they would have if she stopped thinking of him with a halo atop his head. Still, he understood her thoughts before she voiced them, and for a reason he couldn’t understand, he just wanted to take care of the woman. He wanted her to lean on him.

Emily smiled from the counter, and he could tell she was thinking ‘too bad, this isn’t going anywhere’. He’d seen that expression on women’s faces before, but this was the first time he cared.

Hey, beautiful,
he thought.
I know what you want before you know yourself.
Jack walked over to her, placing a bus pan under the counter.

“I think we handled breakfast well,” she said. “We make a good team.”

“I agree.” He leaned down in front of her and looked into those dazzling eyes. “Can I take you to dinner after we close tonight?”

Her eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Law…Lawson,” she stammered. “What would Lawson say?”

Jack shrugged. “He has his own things to do today. I think he may be in Key West.”

“No way am I sharing a man with a man. Nope. I may have a progressive mind, but it doesn’t reach that far.”

Jack didn’t understand what she meant. “Honey, Lawson has nothing to do with this. Just you and me, alone, with a good plate of dinner that someone else will prepare. I just want to spend some time together and get to know you.”

“Sorry. I have a policy of not dating employees,” she said, twisting her hands in her lap. “It makes things messy.”

“I’ll have to find a way to change your policy, ma’am.” He grinned and ran his finger down her nose before returning to the kitchen.

Looking through the pass-thru window, he heard Emily speaking to Betty. “Damn. Why does he have to be gay? Oops, bi?”

Betty leaned over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “You can’t think that?”

“No, I know that.”

“That’s too bad, sweetie.” Wrapping her arm across Emily’s shoulders, the older woman tsked her disappointment. “He’s the first man to put that sparkle in your eyes in years.”

And I plan to keep it there.
Jack made a note to let her know in no uncertain terms about his interest in women. More specifically, his interest in her.

* * * *

After her conversation with Em, Kimber felt the need to find Lawson, if only to talk to him about last night. Truth be told, this was the first time she—
Kimberleigh the grieving widow
—had slept with a man she actually
wanted
to sleep with simply for the pleasure of it.
Kimber the Agent
had used her body to put a bad guy in jail with no problem, because after Scott had died, sex didn’t mean anything to her. It was a tool—something to further her goals. But now, she felt…different.

Though she didn’t know Lawson well, the night meant something to her. She didn’t know what it meant, or why she felt that way.

“Because he was the first man to make you come in eight years,” she muttered to herself, parking back at the hotel.

With a smile, she walked into the Flaming Flamingo’s lobby and stopped at the desk. The poor clerk looked a little worse for wear. What was his name? Michelle? Meshell?

“Do you know where Lawson is?” she asked.

The clerk lifted his head. “I think he left with Jack. Did you enjoy your stay?”

She smiled. “I loved it. Matter of fact, if Lawson hasn’t done so already, I’d like to pay for last night and perhaps rent the room for another night, if it’s available.” She pulled out her credit card. “What’s your name again?”

The clerked grinned as he took the card. “Michiel. And it’s so sweet of you to do that for him. Poor guy, I feel so bad for him and his friend. It’s horrible. Imagine coming to Florida for a vacation, just to have it ruined by criminals. I hope the police find their stuff.”

“I’m sorry? What are you talking about?”

“Oh, you know, Jack and Lawson? They were robbed yesterday morning. Someone stole their Jeep and all their identification, money, suitcases, everything. Lawson didn’t tell you about that?”

A sinking feeling rutted in her stomach. “No, he didn’t. Did any of them call the police?”

Michiel returned her credit card and the signature sheet. “They said they’d gone down to the station to report it.”

“Oh, okay,” she muttered as she returned her card to her wallet. “I’ll see you later.”

She went to the back of the hotel, overwhelmed with regret. She’d been so caught up in how Lawson had made her feel, she had ignored the very obvious, very blatant, signs that he was up to no good.

Kimberleigh Jane Mitchell, when did you become such a fool? Talk about Stockholm Syndrome. After trying to kill only God knows who last night, you let the big jerk kidnap you, then screw you. Now, the wack job is running around town with your gun.

She had to get to the Marathon Police station.

Seated in the car, she ran Michiel’s words over and over again in her head, thinking just how odd it was that the story sounded so damn familiar. What a coincidence that some college guys should have their Jeep, money and clothes stolen yesterday morning, too?

She hit the gas, letting her anger flow into the muscle car she was driving. So, Lawson and his friends had no identification, no credit cards, no clothes, nothing. Guess that would happen if all your stuff was in a plane that blew up and you had to swim your ass to shore.

Did Lawson think she was that stupid? That she wouldn’t figure it out? That because he was a great lay and he’d told her he cared for her, she wouldn’t mind that he was a drug-dealing, murdering thief?

Well, he had another thing coming.

Kimber slammed on the brakes, and her car skidded to a stop in front of the Marathon Sheriff’s station. She wanted to believe that he had a justifiable reason for following her, for shooting up a Hummer last night and for taking her gun and her car keys this morning. But as much as her heart wished it, her experience said otherwise.