Pistols & Pies (Sweet Bites Book 2) (Sweet Bites Mysteries) (19 page)

Since he’d left town a few months ago, I’d convinced myself that he couldn’t be as good of a kisser as I’d remembered, but now I realized how wrong I’d been. I melted into his arms, sliding my hands up to his shoulders. Yeah, I guess he was more than just my protector.

His kiss turned soft and tender, lingering for a long moment before he pulled away. He stared at me until I met his gaze. His voice was low and husky when he spoke. “I care about you. I’m not a hired body guard, and I’m not here to keep Tingey in the know—though if there’s something pertinent that will help him solve the case, I’m certainly not going to hold back the information. I’m not going to rat you out unless you do something dangerous or over-the-line illegal.”

I stepped back, sucking in a breath after his kiss and trying to wrap my head around what he said. “So you won’t turn us in?”

“Not unless he does something malicious. And PS, if he ever hacks a system for truly private information—for example
financial data
,” he sent me a significant look, which I tried not to react to, “I never want to know, because then I’d have to do something about it.”

“I’ll remember that for future reference,” I told him, keeping my face as impassive as possible. He was right. Some things were better off kept secret. The bank accounts Lenny had hacked for me the previous spring were definitely on that list. How had he learned about that, anyway?

“Good. Now let’s try this again, because it’s all I’ve been thinking about since Tingey called me last night.” He moved in, ran his hands up my arms to my shoulders and pulled me close, brushing his mouth over mine in gentle exploration. A delicious warmth spread through me as he deepened the kiss.

I don’t know what it is about this man, because I would have sworn I didn’t want to get involved with anyone yet, but I loved his moves, I loved his mouth and if he were here full time, I had a feeling it wouldn’t take long to get all too serious in the relationship.

He pulled back after a long moment. “That alone made the whole trip worthwhile.”

I felt my cheeks heat, though whether from the kiss or the compliment, I wasn’t sure. “Well, I suppose that settles that.”

“Good.” He moved away, taking my hand and opening the door to lead me back to the living room.

My head was still in the other room with the kiss, so I forced myself to focus. “Okay, where were we?” I asked Lenny.

He glanced over and saw our hands hooked together, lifted his brow and returned his gaze to the computer. “We were discussing my plan.”

“Okay?” I prodded.

“I’m in, so now we’ll see what I see.”

We waited and watched while he typed. Shawn settled on the floor against one wall. I got bored and decided to investigate the rest of the apartment. The living room and kitchen were tiny—which was fine for now, because Lenny could always use my kitchen at the shop if he needed to do some serious baking. The bathroom was barely more than a water closet as you could barely open the door without hitting the shower or toilet. The bedroom Shawn and I had talked in had the southern exposure Lenny mentioned earlier, and I could see exactly what he meant about the windows and light. It wouldn’t be dark for several more hours, and I could imagine Kat set up in there with her easel and other equipment.

The second room was actually smaller than the south-facing one, but it’s the one Lenny claimed. This was interesting, and I wondered what it meant about his expectations. As I went back into the living room, I wondered why I spent so much time thinking about his relationship with Kat. Was it because I didn’t seem to have any serious luck with my own? I glanced over at Shawn and realized he was watching me.

I wandered back to the kitchen to watch over Lenny’s shoulder again and smiled at his avid expression and the funny little maneuvers he made when he thought he had made another inroad. He also growled and grimaced when he struggled to get past a firewall or something.

The time stretched, and I sat next to Shawn, pulling the notebook out of my purse to work on ideas for some upcoming wedding cakes.

Shawn slid an arm around my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “He couldn’t do this while we were at your place? Alone? Just you and me?”

“No. I wanted to be here.” I grinned at his insinuation, though, because I liked the picture it put in my head, which told me I was better off with the course I’d chosen.

“But you’re drawing pictures. You’re not helping,” Shawn pointed out.

“Moral support.” I looked up at him, smiling at his frustration over the wait. I decided to take pity on him and distract him for a few minutes. “How are things in Nogales?”

“Hot. Really, really hot,” he said.

“And?” Was he really going to make me work this hard?

“It’s fine. I like the work, I like the guys I work with, I think we do good things, stop a lot of bad guys, help a lot of people who need it. But it’s not like here.”

“What do you mean?” We hadn’t had time yet to discuss much beyond the surface stuff since he showed up at my bakery.

He picked up my hand, playing with my fingers, which looked small compared to his. “I don’t feel the sort of community there that I would have in a place like this—maybe that’s my fault for not getting involved more, but I miss belonging to a small town with people I know well. I mostly deal with strangers there. Of course, there are compensations—like a much bigger paycheck then a could get here—but there would be advantages to moving back to this area too. I know Tingey said they’re thinking about adding another K-9 officer here and I’ve done the training, but I’m not first in line for the next dog in my unit.” He looked at me for a long moment, making my heart speed up. “And I’m kinda far from my family too.”

And that, I could definitely understand.

When Lenny sent out a cheer, I looked over to see him turn in celebration.

“Who rocks?” he asked.

“You do?”

“You betcha! I’m in. Give me just a second to check her schedule.” There were several more mouse clicks, and he tapped on the keyboard. “It looks like she had an appointment that afternoon, all right.” He snorted. “She got her nails done.”

I laughed. “She did have a lovely manicure when I saw her earlier. Does it say where her appointment was?”

He rattled off the information, including the name of her nail technician and I jotted it down. “You know, I’m thinking maybe it’s time I got a manicure.” I looked down at my uber-short nails. “It’s been a really long time, and they look ragged.”

“And they’ll stay nice for how long before they fall apart again?” Lenny asked.

Shawn picked up my hand, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “I like them short and clean like this.”

 His move shot goose bumps up my arm; I managed to pretend I wasn’t affected. “But if I find out she has an alibi, or verify that she doesn’t, won’t that be worth it?” I asked. Besides, my hands put up with a lot of abuse in my job, and they deserved some pampering.

“So you’re going to be leaving me at the shop?” Lenny asked.

“I’ll call tomorrow and see when I can get an appointment.”

“And me? What am I going to do?” Shawn asked, his gaze seeing right through me.

I cleared my throat. “I hope you like reading in the car, because you could end up doing a lot of it.” I kissed his cheek as a sort of apology, and an effort to keep things more casual between us, and the look he sent me said my goodnight kiss would be something considerably more interesting.

When I called the next morning, the salon had a cancelation and said they could get me a slot that afternoon. When Shawn finally dropped me off at the chichi location, I found that the salon was going to be a whole lot more expensive than the Cut and Curl down the street. I figured a basic manicure wouldn’t break the bank, so I would deal with it fine.

I was lucky, and Anna was able to settle me at her station only a few minutes after I walked in. We spent several minutes getting to know each other while she asked me what I did for a living and I talked about my shop. Turning the subject, I asked, “So how long have you been doing nails?” It had been a few years since I’d had a manicure, but I could tell she was good at her job.

“About five years. I started doing them professionally when I was eighteen, but I’d been practicing on friends for years. Everyone I knew came to me for their nails all through high school. My specialty is sculptured nails, but I do a lot of straight forward manicures like yours.”

A chair creaked behind me and the murmur of voices floated through the air as another nail technician set to work. “I heard you were terrific,” I said. “Anise Xochictl just raved about your work.”

“Really?” Anna’s brow rose doubtfully. “That surprises me, since she did nothing but complain about it after I saw her last.”

“Was that the day the fitness center was opened?” I asked, my eyes widening for effect.

“Let me think.” Anna moved her fingers as if trying to figure it out. “I think it was. She said something about the city councilman having his jollies that day, showing off his big pet project instead of doing his job. I thought it was a funny thing to say, since he obviously
was
doing his job.”

“That must have been a late appointment,” I prodded as she pushed back my cuticles.

“Yes. She wanted all new tips, so she was here forever. She showed up on time at three and she stayed until close.” She rolled her eyes in exasperation. “I had to redo her nail polish three times because she just couldn’t be pleased, even though it looked perfect every time. Some people are so unbelievable.”

“Aren’t they just?” That’s one off our list, I realized. There was no chance Anise could be responsible for Eric’s death if she was here. I had kind of hoped Anise
was
responsible—I really hadn’t liked her much.

“Wait, didn’t I hear that you do really amazing cakes?” Anna asked, as if just putting it together. “You said you did the one for the opening. I saw the picture—it was incredible. What other fun things have you done?”

I talked about my wedding cakes, my purse cakes, the pillow ones and the gumpaste shoes I’d done for a few birthdays. I could have gone on for much longer, but that would have been too much bragging, and I got interrupted.

“Wait, did I hear shoes?” a woman asked from behind me.

I nearly groaned as I recognized the squeaky voice of Gary Roper’s wife. What was her name again—oh, yeah, Sheralyn. I turned in my seat and looked back at her. “Well, hello, Sheralyn. Imagine meeting you here.”

“Yeah, yeah, nice to see you too.” She sped through the sentence as if it were a social nicety she hated, but felt obligated to give before returning to her former subject. “You do sugar shoes to go on cakes?”

I was in for more discussion of her shoe fetish. “Yes, I’ve done several in various colors. Some with tiger prints and such. It’s a fun, nice touch for a woman’s celebration cake. With your love of shoes, you should definitely have a cake decorated with one, or maybe more than one.” I could already see dollar signs—this was a woman who was willing to pay for what she had, always a plus in my business.

Sheralyn practically vibrated with excitement. “When I launch my shoe line I want to have a big party and I totally want to have shoes on my cake. It would be incredible, and even more so if they looked like the shoes I designed! I’m wearing a pair now.” She stuck out her foot and showed off a emerald and pink monstrosity with wedge heels and peek toes.

Forcing a smile, I agreed that it would be a terrific way to showcase her footwear line even while those dollar signs faded away. Only in her
dreams
was she ever going to find a backer to help her finance her shoes. The woman had terrible taste.

“The shoes match my necklace. I just found them in a box. They belonged to my grandmother. Aren’t they gorgeous? My grandfather gave them to her on her fiftieth birthday.”

I had to agree, despite the horrific color choice, the piece was beautifully made, very expensive looking and definitely not old enough to have belonged to her grandmother—who would have been at least ninety by now if she were still alive. The style was a little too fresh to be forty-plus years old. “They are a great match to your shoes. You must be thrilled to have found a treasure like that.”

“I am!” Thankfully, she turned to her nail technician and started regaling
her
with news about her theoretical line of footwear. I was happy to leave fifteen minutes later, my ears still ringing over Sheralyn’s monologue about materials she used and how hard she had to work for just the right look.

“News?” Shawn asked.

“Anise was at the salon all afternoon. She’s no longer on our suspect list.” I felt my stomach growl. “You want to grab some dinner?”

He took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Your wish is my command.”

Great. Now if I only knew what I wanted from our relationship.