Deborah Brown - Madison Westin 07 - Kidnapped in Paradise (11 page)

“Can we go in the game room?” Liam asked.

“Key's behind the bar,” I said.

Jake
’
s had a back room that sat empty when the previous owner used it as a junk room. After cleaning it out, my original plan had been to use it for private parties, but there had been zero interest. I'd turned it over to Mother to turn it into a game room. It had been open for a few months, but she still refused to allow anyone to use it, except for her poker cohorts. The bar got a cut, and her friends ran up the liquor bills, so my bottom line was happy.

Creole blew in the door, his shoulder-length black hair windblown. His blue eyes were drawn to pinpoints, and he looked angry. Why me? I hadn’t kept anything from him lately. I stepped behind Fab as he stomped over.

He reached around her and grabbed my hand.

“You stay out of this,” he said to Fab.

I shrugged at her, not sure what was up.

He pulled me along the hall to my office, which was the size of a broom closet and never used. All business dealings took place at my table on the deck. He opened the door and kicked it shut, pushing me up against it. Creole clenched the hair at the nape of my neck, and pulled my head back, his mouth slamming down on mine. The kiss deepened until I was faint from the effort, sensation tearing through me. His hands moved up and down my back, caressing and holding me close. He shifted down until he could lift me up, and my legs wrapped around his waist.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

“You
’
re rotten,” I said.

He let out a deep, rumbling laugh.

“I know. No would dare knock after seeing my entrance.”

“When the birthday party is over, we
’
re going back to my house. If you
’
re done groping me, we should go back to the party before Mother gets here with the guest of honor.”

* * *

Mother called Fab from a few blocks away. We herded the guests out to the deck and closed the doors. I couldn’t wait to see Spoon
’
s face when the balloons attacked. I set the juke box for continuous play so that our guests could dance after they
’
d had a few beers.

I was fairly certain no one had blabbed and ruined the surprise by telling Spoon. As long as I
’
d known him, he
’
d never celebrated his birthday, and this was probably not his first choice of a way to spend his day. Nothing that Mother did seemed to bother him, so I expected everything to go smoothly. He
’
d been told it was a Westin family get together.

Creole stood by my side just inside the deck doors as Mother and Spoon walked in.

“He doesn’t know,” Creole whispered. “Or he
’
d be casing the place, looking around to see who got invited.
I
don’t want one of these. Promise me.”

“I have something already planned for your birthday, and it
’
s not a group affair. Although it
will
require a balloon and a party hat.”

I walked over to hug Mother.

“Good luck,” I whispered.

“He
’
s going to love it,” she whispered back.

I admired her confidence. Spoon was about to have his acting skills put to the test.

Spoon opened the door, balloons smacked him in the face, at the same time everyone yelled, “
Surprise!
” He froze, instinctively pushing Mother behind him. He recovered quickly, his body relaxing a beat, but the hard lines in his face remained. He
’
d been surprised alright, and not pleasantly so. He pulled Mother into his arms and gave her a big kiss.

He looked up at me and I winked, giving him a thumbs-up for the quick recovery on a surprise he clearly didn’t like.

Kevin wandered in with a different girl than the one from the last party we'd all attended. He certainly had a type: overly-large boobs. I wondered if this girl circled the pole for a living. She was almost a carbon copy of Kevin, actually: fresh off the beach look, sun-bleached brown hair, and sunburned face. In his sheriff uniform, you
’
d never guess he had a surfer boy persona.

An odd assortment of people milled around, all people who knew Spoon. It made me wonder how Mother knew to contact these people.

Brad showed up at my side, beer in one hand, his other arm around Julie.

“When did you get in?” I asked.

“Yesterday afternoon. We had to unload and get the boat cleaned up.” He kissed my cheek. “Spent the night at The Cottages.”

Brad worked the waters of the Gulf, his boat one of the larger commercial fishing vessels in the area. I suspected that, if he started a family, he
’
d retire. Now that he had a second career in construction, his retirement from fishing might be sooner than anyone thought. In my mind, I imagined a mock-up of the article to hit the stand stands in a couple of months, with Brad cited as having turned the Trailer Court into the new “it” place to stay on vacation.

“Let
’
s do a family-only dinner. My house, you bring the fish... and cook it, of course.” I chuckled. I once had a love of cooking, but since moving to Florida I turned that role over to my brother.

“Bike ride Sunday,” Creole informed Brad. Recently, Creole and Didier had added Brad to their group. “The plan is to ride to Marathon and then have the girls pick us up. We can all have dinner and drive back.”

Brad leaned in. “I know about the head.”

Damn. I felt a twinge of guilt. I
’
d promised him that he wouldn’t be the last to know about family drama.

“You talked to Mother already?”

“I talked to Kevin.” He hugged me. “You okay?”

“You just got here. What did Kevin do, meet your boat on the dock?” I snorted.

“I told him,” Julie explained. “Everyone in town knows, so I figured Brad should know. In case you forgot to tell him or someone said something.”

“Don’t confront Mother unless she
’
s with Spoon. You can get the grisly details from Creole if Kevin hasn’t given them to you. Better yet, Fab has pictures.” I shuddered. “Feel free to come in through the French doors.”

“I
’
m going to tell Mother that I know so she doesn’t worry over telling me. I’ll let her know I
’
m available if she needs to vent,” Brad said.

I glanced over the deck, my gaze resting on Spoon and Mother. They were surrounded by his friends, relaxed and smiling.

“Have you met Liam
’
s girlfriend, Lindsey?” I asked him.

“She’s a classmate. They
’
re not serious; they
’
re too young,” Julie cut in. I didn’t argue with her. Brad winked at me.

Fab dragged Didier over.

“We
’
re leaving," she announced.

“Do you approve?” I asked Didier. “The party just got started.”

Fab answered for him. “All he said was to say good-bye to you and that I should let you know we
’
re leaving.”

“Fine,”
I grumbled at her.
“But I
’
m not the hostess, Mother is. Go tell her you
’
re leaving early. I
’
m sure that will hurt her feelings, but she won’t say anything. She
’
ll be nice, like she always is, because she loves you and wants you to be happy.”

Fab and I engaged in a glare-off until she finally took Didier
’
s hand and stomped across the room.

Brad clapped quietly.

“You
’
re better at that guilt thing than Mother. The student has surpassed the teacher,” he teased.

Creole nudged me and nodded to the jukebox. A bleach blonde woman with a wide blue streak down one side had started to gather attention. She turned and faced the room. In her cut-off shorts and an open-back top that tied in the back, she slithered her ample body up and down.

Spoon and Mother emerged from the deck. The blonde woman shrieked, “
Spooner!
” and barreled toward him, throwing herself in his arms. She then laid a big wet kiss on his lips.

He tried to pull away, but she wasn’t cooperating and even looped one leg around his thigh.

“I need to be with Mother,” I said to Creole. I flew to her side, catching up just as she tapped the woman on the shoulder.

The woman loosened her hold. Spoon stepped away and introduced her as Roxy.

“This is my girlfriend, Madeline.” He pointed to Mother, who stood by his side.

Roxy looked Mother up and down and snickered.

“You
’
re joking. She
’
s old enough to be your mother.”

The woman might be younger, but she
’
d lived a hard life that showed in every line in her overly-tanned face. The two couldn’t have been more different. Mother was a blonde, too, but all one color. She also looked younger than her sixty years in her black silk capri pants and top. Roxy was in for a shock if she thought she
’
d walk on Mother.

“You look older than her!” I said, losing my temper.

Roxy scrunched her nose and mouth in disgust and balled her hands into fists.

If she took one more step, she
’
d find out that I didn’t leave my Glock at home.

“Honey,” Roxy said to Spoon. “We need to talk.”

Spoon stood there like a lug and didn’t say anything. The whole scene had started to garner attention; people stopped what they were doing to listen and stare.

If only Spoon would ask me, I
’
d tell him, “Push Roxy out the door and be done with this drama.”

“Jake
’
s is closed today for a private party,” I told the woman. It wasn’t, but she didn’t need to know that. Spoon frowned at me and I frowned right back, letting him know he couldn’t have it both ways.

“I’ll walk her out. Be right back,” Spoon said. He kissed Mother and whispered something in her ear.

Fab glared from across the room, arms across her chest. I nodded to the front door, her signal to go find out what was happening.

I put my arm around Mother. “Go check the buffet. You will not go to him; he’ll come to you.”

“What are you going to do?” She tugged on my arm.

“I
’
m going to make sure he knows where he can find you.” I kissed her cheek. “Just be happy Fab didn’t bring her gun. Roxy would dead and Spoon would have a hole in his ass.”

I enjoyed the sound of Mother
’
s laughter ringing out.

I camped just inside the front door, waiting for the birthday boy to return. I saw Creole out of the corner of my eye and waved him away to go hang out with Didier.

Spoon came through the door. I stepped in his path, my hand in the middle of his chest forcing him to stop.

“Are you happy with the current location of your man parts?” I imitated Fab
’
s creepy smile.

He growled at me, anger filling his face. Spoon wasn’t used to being threatened by anyone, much less a woman.