Rock Chick 01 (32 page)

His face changed, there was something there
I’d never seen before. Something the looks of which scared the hell
out of me.

When he spoke, his voice was softer, even
gentle.

“You live every day like tomorrow isn’t gonna
come. Your mother died before she reached your age. You watched
your father chose to live a lonely life rather than replace her. It
doesn’t take a psychologist to put those things together and figure
out why you allow yourself to take care of all the Rosies and Texes
of the world but don’t allow anyone to get very close to you.”

That was when I felt like I
had
been
punched in the stomach.

I turned my head away and bucked again. “Get
off me.”

“Un-unh.” He curved his fingers and thumb
around my chin and jaw and forced me to look at him. “I’m not
gettin’ off, not goin’ away, not playin’ anymore games or wastin’
anymore fuckin’ time. I don’t believe in fate or destiny or any of
that bullshit. What I know is that, as far as I can tell, there
isn’t another woman I’ve met who fits my life. Who doesn’t care if
I get home late after she’s made a special dinner. Who doesn’t have
a hemorrhage when I talk about one of my men gettin’ shot, goin’
off about how
she
feels about my work. You got up and made
everyone coffee, for fuck’s sake. You’re a woman who tells me to be
careful when I tell her I’m out hunting humans, instead of bitchin’
and wantin’ to process how my career choice makes
her
feel.
If an employee walked into their kitchen with a gun and shot at
their neighbor, most people would lose their fucking minds. You
spent the morning makin’ brownies and the afternoon sleepin’ in the
sun. You live hard, play hard and don’t seem to be scared of
anything but manage to keep a softness about you that’s almost
unreal. You wanted me to tell you why I’m sure about you, that’s
why I’m sure. You grew up and your only parent was a cop, you know
the drill. I don’t have any interest in trainin’ someone to get it
and I need someone strong enough to live with it. That’s you.”

I stared at him, eyes wide. I’d never heard
him say so much, all at one time, in my life. And I’d known him my
entire life.

“How often do your men get shot?” I
asked.

“Shot at, too often. Shot, luckily,
rarely.”

I wanted to ask how often he got shot at or
had been shot. I wanted to ask but I didn’t want to know the
answer. So I didn’t ask.

“Smart decision,” he murmured. He was in my
brain. Again.

“I do get scared,” I whispered, “you scare
me.”

His eyes crinkled.

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard in a
week.”

I was stunned.

“That you scare me?”

His mouth brushed mine.

“If I scare you, then you care. I’m the same
Lee, just older and smarter. You love me, eventually your wall will
come down and you’ll admit it to yourself and then you’ll admit it
to me.”

Jeez, he was
so
cocky.

His hands started moving on me and he began
to nuzzle my neck again.

Apparently our little drama was over.

“I don’t think I’m done being pissed at you,”
I told him.

“That’s okay,” he said against my ear, “I can
still make love to you when you’re angry.”

Unbelievably cocky.

“I don’t think so,” I said.

His hand went between my legs, his fingers
executing a delicious little swirl that was just enough pressure to
get my attention but light enough to make me want more.

Bastard.

I opened my legs a bit, I couldn’t help
it.

He kissed me as reward.

“I promised to show you who I was, which
mostly you know, today you’ll learn more,” he said when he was
nuzzling my neck again. I was kind of listening but his fingers
were exerting more pressure and doing some more swirl action so I
was finding it hard. “And I promised to tell you what I wanted and
give you time to decide.”

Oh no, this wasn’t fair.

I’d opened my legs further and the swirling
was getting serious. I was running my hands up his back and had my
face shoved in his neck. There was no way I could process important
discussion.

“Can we…” I panted, “talk about this
later?”

I thought he agreed, he slid between my legs
and entered me.

Nice, very, very nice.

He started to move.

“I want you in my house, in my bed. I want
you to move in by the weekend.”

My eyes were closed but they flew open and I
saw he was looking at me.

I still wanted to take our relationship slow,
he was talking hyper-drive.

I could not deal with this, not now. He
hadn’t stopped moving and he felt good inside me.

I wrapped my arms and legs around him,
sliding a hand in his hair.

“Lee…”

I didn’t intend to say anything else, just
shut him up so I could concentrate.

“Jesus,” he buried his face in my neck,
“there’s nothin’ better in the world than hearin’ you say my name
when I’m inside you.” He slid in deep, filling me. “I’ve been
waitin’ years to be right here.”

Holy crap.

His mouth was at my ear.

“I could be on assignment, in a desert as hot
as an oven, in a jungle as close as fuck and sometimes I’d get
through it dreamin’ of you sayin’ my name like that.”

Holy crap, crap, crap.

“I’ll move in by the weekend,” I said.

He lifted his head and smiled.

Fucking Lee.

* * * * *

I was in the bathroom swiping on makeup.

The bruise on my cheek was nearly gone and my
mental body checkup declared only slight aches and pains after a
day of no mishaps (and a night and morning of great sex which
apparently was an effective muscle relaxant). I was thinking my
luck was turning as yesterday, outside of finally
doing it
with Lee, my adventures only included one dead body which
fortunately wasn’t mine. Therefore good and bad instead of all
bad.

Then Lee walked into the bathroom wearing
just the faded navy sweat-shorts.

I glanced at him in the mirror and tried to
tamp down my panic.

In the heat of the moment, I’d agreed to move
in.

Okay, so it was more about what he said than
the heat of the moment, but I’d still agreed to move in.

Further, I’d just noticed something I hadn’t
really taken in the night before. Judy had given me a makeup drawer
in Lee’s bathroom vanity.

It was all too much.

He slid a fresh mug o’ java on the vanity
counter and put my cell beside it.

“Your phone’s beeping,” he said.

I moved aside to make room as he prepared to
shave. I took a sip of coffee and let my mind run wild.

Dear Lord in heaven, I was putting on makeup
and Lee was shaving, at the same time, in the same room, after
having sex, lots of sex, even sex in this very room!

I stood, frozen to the spot, and stared at
him.

He lathered his cheeks with a thin gel and
his eyes slid to the side. He checked me out from their
corners.

“Something wrong?”

“I’m not really a bathroom sharer,” I
informed him.

He looked back in the mirror and continued
doing exactly what he was doing.

“Honey, it’s good you’re gorgeous or you’d be
a pain in the ass.”

Well, I’m
so
sure.

I grabbed my phone, looked at the display and
saw seven missed calls.

Yikes.

How did that happen?

I called my voicemail while I leaned as best
I could on my half of the vanity (I had to admit, it was a big
vanity… maybe I was being a
bit
of a wuss) and swept mascara
on my lashes.

Four voicemails.

First up, Willie Moses.

“Indy, Willie… call me.”

Hmm.

Second, Marianne.

“I know Ally said it’s none of my business
but give me a break, I live with my parents, I don’t have a life.
Yours is better and I want to know
everything
. Let’s meet at
The Hornet tonight if you can guarantee we won’t get shot at.”

Yikes.

Third, Stevie.

“Well? How’d it go? Don’t forget Chowleena,
I’ll be leaving just before noon. Tod will be home tomorrow, early,
so if you still have her for a sleep over, just leave a note.
Kisses.”

Fourth, Duke (who obviously was talking
before being given the beep).

“… ass in here or I’m gonna kill him.”

I poked myself in the eye with the mascara
wand.

“Holy crap,” I said.

“That looked like it hurt.”

I was blinking fiercely, my eye was tearing
up, making my other eye tear up and I was trying to see my phone to
replay Duke’s message.

Lee tore off some toilet paper, handed it to
me and took the phone.

“Listen!” I told him. “The last message.”

I opened my mouth as far as it would go,
which was a feminine mechanism that one had to use to open one’s
eyes as far as they would go. I dabbed at the tears and blotches of
mascara, trying to avert a cosmetics disaster.

“Who does he want to kill?” Lee asked.

“I don’t know, it’s Duke. He has the patience
of a gnat and a three centimeter fuse. Do you think it could be
Rosie?”

“Where is he?”

“I don’t know, it’s Duke!” I cried,
exasperated. “He refuses to buy a cell phone or answering machine.
He’s a fucking caveman.”

Lee was scrolling down my phone book and he
punched a button.

“Dolores? It’s Lee. Can I talk to Duke?”

Quick Thinker Lee decided to call Duke and
Dolores’s home phone. Simple. I hated it when I was an idiot. Thank
God he was the private eye in the family.

Oh jeez, did I just think “in the
family”?

Must… stop… brain.

I reapplied some shadow and fixed the mascara
while Lee was talking and then he said, “Yeah? Got it. Thanks.”

I screwed on the cap to the mascara and threw
it in the drawer while Lee flipped shut the cell and slid it on the
counter. Then he calmly went back to shaving. I slid the drawer
shut with my hip.

“Well?”

“The police took the tape down at the store.
Willie called you to let you know and when he couldn’t get you, he
called Duke. Apparently, there’s a crazy Italian guy at Fortnum’s
saying he’s your new coffee guy. Jane called Dolores because Duke
was getting heated. Dolores called the cops. They’re handling
it.”

“What crazy Italian guy?”

Lee tilted his head to see his jaw and slid
his razor up his neck.

“Don’t know.”

“I didn’t even know we were open today! We
have to get down there.”

“Dolores didn’t seem upset.”

“Dolores lives with Duke and thinks he’s
cuddly. She works at The Little Bear where people throw around
their underwear. Dolores isn’t a good judge of when to get
upset!”

Lee looked at me in the mirror. “I’m thinkin’
at this point, you aren’t either.”

I was dressed, khaki low-rider shorts (not
Britney-Spears-low-rider but they showed a hint of back), sky-blue,
fitted t-shirt with the word “Xanadu” across my chest in glittery
lettering and a wide dark-brown belt with a thick matte-silver
buckle.

I walked out and went to the closet and
grabbed a pair of flip flops with ribbon straps with sky-blue funky
shapes against khaki. I slid them on, snagged my purse and pulled
it on my shoulder. I walked back to the bathroom, snatched up my
phone and dropped it in my bag. Then I rested my hip on the edge of
the counter and clicked my nails against the top, my other hand on
my hip.

And I stared at Lee.

He grabbed a towel, wiped his face and threw
it in the sink.

“Hey! You can’t just throw your towel in the
sink! Who’s gonna fold that towel and put it back on the rail? I’ll
tell you who it
won’t
be. Me!”

That’s when he grabbed my hips, pulled me to
him and grinned.

“You’re tryin’ to break the land speed record
for gettin’ an offer to move in rescinded, aren’t you?”

“No. And it was hardly an offer as much as
sexual blackmail.”

His grin widened into a smile.

Fucking Lee!

“Hello!” I called. “Fortnum’s? My bread and
butter? The family business for the last…” Wow, I didn’t even know
how long it had been in the family, I’d have to wing it. “Umpteen
years! Crazy Italian guy? Duke’s homicide threat? Ring a bell?”

He drew me closer to him. “Have I told you
you’re cute?”

Grr.

* * * * *

We walked into Fortnum’s and my crazy morning
got crazier.

Terry Wilcox, Goon Gary and The Moron were
all facing off against Duke.

“What’s going on?” I asked when I walked in,
my stomach lurching. You could feel the bad energy in the room.

No customers (thank God, kind of) and Jane
was nowhere to be seen (thank God again).

“This idiot has brought the Italian guy
back
after the police took him
away
. Says he’s a
fucking
present,
” Duke said.

“India. You look well,” Terry Wilcox said,
his eyes sliding down the length of me.

Yuck.

I was getting that queasy feeling that my
body seemed to save for my encounters with Terry Wilcox. I was
hoping they would only number two, this one and the last.

Luckily, Lee’s hand felt warm and strong
where it settled at my hip.

“Coxy,” Lee said.

“Lee,” Wilcox replied.

“You know him?” Duke asked.

“Yeah,” Lee said and that one syllable said
he didn’t like him much.

Duke moved toward us at the same time that
Lee put pressure on me to move behind him. I planted my feet and
stayed where I was.

Goon Gary and The Moron were shifting,
getting ready for action.

Great. Just what I needed, a brawl in
Fortnum’s.

Wilcox decided to play peacemaker.

“There’s no need to get excited, boys,” he
said. “India, you said you had a problem, you lost your coffee guy
and were losing business. I’ve brought you a new one, from Italy,
where they invented espresso. This is Antonio and he’s very
talented.”