“How’d you sleep?” she asked, early-morning scratchiness giving her voice an even sexier quality. She stretched, completely mindless of the sheet as it slid away from her upper body, revealing breasts that nearly made his eyes cross.
“Not well,” he answered in a low tone, sliding back into the bed and tucking her against him. “But then I think that was your intent.”
He felt her smile against his chest. “You deserved it. I don’t like liars.”
“I’m not a liar under most circumstances,” he said, tracing his fingertips up and down the bones of her spine. “But I find myself doing and saying things I’d never do when I’m with you.”
She lifted her head and peered at him. “Like what?”
“Like everything,” he said, leaving it at that. She evoked feelings in him that made him uncomfortable and he certainly didn’t know what to do with.
She met his mouth and allowed him to roll her on her back. His erection, which he was fairly certain never fully went away, sprang back to life, straining to plunge into that sweet heat but he held himself back. Staring down into her upturned face, he wondered quietly what kind of insanity he was succumbing to that he found this moment, even as horny as he was, deeply satisfying. Touching her, feeling her, sharing the quiet morning together, it tugged at a part of him he’d shut down a long time ago for fear of it getting in the way of his business. He’d given up a lot to make his business a success, but it was only at this instant that the realization stung.
“It’s easy to see why people like to do this,” she murmured, her fingers threading through his hair and resting at the nape of his neck. “Being here with you… it’s difficult to remember what could possibly be more important.”
He could offer a flip response to keep the mood light but he didn’t. Instead, because he understood what she was saying, he offered the only bit of wisdom available to him in his current state, “You just have to remember that the moment always fades and eventually you have to deal with the aftermath.”
She wrinkled her nose subtly. “True. But until then, let’s pretend the moment isn’t around the corner and enjoy the morning together.”
He bit back a groan. “I’m not sure we should,” he admitted. As much as it physically pained him, he knew he shouldn’t take her virginity. It was too much responsibility, too much of a gift he didn’t deserve. “You’ve waited for a reason. I respect that.”
Her smile warmed him inside with a heat that had nothing to do with his desire. “I know. That’s why I want it to be you. I wanted it that night but I handled it badly with the alcohol. And I’m grateful you had more sense than me but right now, I’m sober and I know what I’m asking. I want it to be you.”
Her admission humbled him. His hands trembled as he cupped her bare breasts and brought them to his mouth. She arched against him, her breathy sighs shaking his foundation unlike anything ever before. He created a trail of kisses from her breasts to the sensitive skin of her sides, and down to her mound. He’d never been with a virgin before but he wanted her to experience as much pleasure as possible. And the best way to accomplish that was with his tongue.
He climbed her body, pausing to nip small kisses on the sensitive skin of her belly and breasts, eliciting little gasps on her part.
“Are you sure?” he asked once more, his concern for her feelings so endearing she knew without a doubt he was the one she wanted to do this with. She imagined all the other times she could’ve lost her virginity throughout her various college escapades and thanked her stars she’d been focused
and
choosy.
She smiled up at him, deliciously languid yet hungry for more. “I’m sure. Now, come here…”
“It’ll get better,” he assured her, barely able to get the words out, his eyes almost crossing from the strain of holding himself in check so he didn’t hurt her further.
“It better, or this will be the last time I do this,” she grumbled, shocking a laugh from him.
He caught her mouth, kissing her deep to distract her. When he felt her relax, he resumed the motion, grinding against her until he felt the telltale building in his testicles that signaled the end was around the corner. He pumped harder, losing the ability to be gentle, and for a second he nearly blacked out as the most intense, heart-shattering orgasm ripped through him, knocking out the lights in his brain and sending every coherent thought scattering for high ground.
Holy hell…
As he lay atop her, gathering what little he had left of his brain, he heard her muffled voice say in a breathy but slightly puzzled tone, “Is that it?” And his ego died a painful and ignoble death. Good thing, he rebounded quickly.
“Challenge noted and accepted,” he murmured, rolling her on top as she shrieked with surprised delight at the sudden action. “Woman, by the time you leave this bed, you won’t even remember your name.”
She laughed as they rolled again…right off the bed.
Thank God for plush carpet.
“Got any good leads on who offed William Dearborn?” he asked casually.
“I’m not a detective, Charlie, just a reporter,” she said, moving past him to her desk, hitting the power button on her computer and waiting for it to boot. “Don’t you have a Student of the Month assembly to catch?”
He ignored her jab and pressed on. “How does it feel to be a person of interest?”
“Excuse me?” she queried sharply. “I’m not a person of interest any more than anyone else who had the misfortune to leave the man with a business card.”
“Yes, but perhaps Old Willie didn’t give you the answers you were looking for—maybe he told you that your boyfriend is the son of a monster and you didn’t like it very much.”
“And maybe the tooth fairy is real. Got any other wild tales of fiction to share? Honestly, Charlie, for a writer you have absolutely no amount of imagination.”
“You know what, Piper? You’re a bitch, and when you go down in flames I’ll be there with the marshmallows.”
“Blah, blah, blah. And if you weren’t the publisher’s nephew, you’d be out of a job because you couldn’t write yourself out of a paper bag. Go away and let the real reporters do their work.”
Charlie turned an ugly shade and she wondered if someone so young could actually have a heart attack from their blood pressure hitting the nuclear stage. Talk about a show. She’d definitely be there with popcorn. But he seemed to get a hold of himself just enough to offer her a smile that wasn’t nice in any way, saying as he left, “Watch what you dig up, Piper…you won’t like what you find.”
That was…weird, she thought. Charlie Yertz, equal parts putz and creep. Piper shook her head and drop-kicked the annoying man from her thoughts. She had bigger issues.
She was falling for Owen Garrett.
This presented a multitude of problems, the least of them being her desire to remain single until she found her place among the greats in journalism—and that was no small thing.
She couldn’t imagine bringing Owen home to her parents. If the food didn’t kill him, the conversation likely would. Piper tried to picture Owen suffering through tofu and bean sprouts for the sake of her parents, and while she had no doubt he would give it a go, she wouldn’t wish that on anyone. And then there was her mother’s crazy behavior coupled with her father’s cryptic evasiveness. Funny how just a few short weeks ago she’d been blissfully unaware that her parents harbored a deep, dark secret.
Leaning back in her chair, she ignored the flashing cursor on her word processing program, her thoughts in a tangle. And there was the biggest problem of all…what was she going to tell Owen about what her parents had shared? She felt she owed it to him, but when she thought of how crushed he’d be…there it was again…hesitation.
Damn it, Piper,
she chastised herself.
Get it together. Just because you slept with the first man in your life, doesn’t mean you have to give up everything you’ve worked for.
Do you still want a Pulitzer?
she questioned herself ruthlessly.
Yes. God, yes.
The medal would look so wonderful framed on her mantel.
So suck it up. Stop falling for Owen Garrett and get focused.
Right. She bypassed the sad little ache that created a fissure in her chestbone and returned to her computer, determined to get the newspaper work finished so she could do some more digging on Red Meadows. The problem, she realized, was that she had to determine if her parents were being truthful about Ty Garrett, and if they weren’t, why?
Well, she amended, that was the problem she was willing to tackle today. The rest would have to wait.
“What happened?” he asked Gretchen after the officer took his leave.
She wiped at the tears flowing down her cheek, but he was glad to see the high spots of anger there. “He had the balls to come here, acting like it was all okay and he was going to see the baby. It’s a good thing she’s not here but in the NICU, or the jackass might’ve tried to run off with her, not even caring that she needs special care right now.” She spared Timothy a grateful look. “If it weren’t for Timothy… He made sure Danny understood the lay of the land.”
She dabbed at her eyes but then clenched her fists in a show of righteous indignation. “That rat bastard. I can’t believe I ever thought I was in love with him.”
“So they caught him?” Owen asked, hoping that was the case. He’d sleep a lot easier knowing that asshole was sitting in a cell instead of roaming the countryside.
“Yes, thank God,” she said. “Timothy wouldn’t let him in the room and things got a little heated. Then the police showed up when I hollered for the nurse and told her who he was and that he was wanted for trying to kill me and the baby.”
Owen looked to Timothy and he simply nodded as if to say he agreed with her rendition of the events. “Good job, Timothy. Glad you were here,” he said, not liking the thought of what might have happened if Timothy hadn’t been here. But by the looks of things, you’d have to pry Timothy away from Gretchen’s bedside. The man had it bad. How he’d managed to hide his feelings for Gretchen all this time, Owen didn’t know but then he didn’t traffic in matchmaking so he didn’t much care, either. He was just relieved Gretchen and Quinn would be safe. “So how’s the baby?”
Gretchen lost her ire and beamed. “She’s doing excellent. She’s a fighter. You can see her later if you want. Timothy was just going to help me to the NICU so I could express some breast milk for her.”
Breast milk. That was his cue to leave. “Thanks, but I have to get back to the site. Do you have a name for the kid yet?” he asked, being polite and to steer the topic to safer ground.
Gretchen’s mouth softened and she shared a look with Timothy. “Well, Quinn was having a hard time deciding so Timothy suggested Audrey, because it means
noble strength.
We thought it was perfect, since she’s such a survivor.”
“Audrey.” He tested the name and found he liked it. “I agree. It’s a good fit.” He smiled and went to shake Timothy’s hand for being there when Gretchen needed him. He sensed Timothy would always be there and he was standing where he’d always wanted to be. He envied the man’s quiet resolve and patience and wondered how he’d known Gretchen was the woman for him, even though at the time, she’d been with someone else. He’d simply waited until Gretchen realized the man she’d been looking for had been right in front of her the whole time.
That was some heavy stuff. Mama Jo would’ve called something like this divine intervention, guiding two people who were meant to be together. He wasn’t sure if he bought into that entirely, but he was glad to see two people find each other, no matter the unusual circumstances.
Inspired and buoyed by his friends after he left the hospital, Owen detoured from his office to the
Dayton Tribune
where he hoped to find Piper but had no such luck—the receptionist told him she’d already left the building.
“Might you know where she went?” he asked, to which he received a false smile but little else. “Let me guess…you don’t give out that kind of information?”
She smiled again as if to say
Bingo!
And realizing she wasn’t going to budge, he left. But before he could drive away, he found a man slouching against his truck in the parking lot. “Can I help you?” he asked.
“I bet I know where Piper is,” he said.
“Yeah? You a friend of hers?” Owen asked, not liking the man’s tone or the way he was leaning on his truck.
“
Friend
is a generous term. Colleague is more like it. So, I hear she’s digging into the Red Meadows raid. I bet that puts a crimp in your date nights.”
Owen narrowed his stare at the man. “What did you say your name was?”
He pushed off the truck and held out his hand, which Owen reluctantly accepted. “I didn’t. My name is Charlie Yertz. My family’s been around a long time in these parts. My uncle owns this place, actually.”
Owen didn’t see why that was relevant but he figured even skinny nerds like Charlie Yertz needed something to crow about. “So, did you say you knew where Piper went?” he asked, bringing the conversation back to something he was interested in hearing.
“You know, I’ve never seen anyone more driven, more focused than Piper. When she sets her mind to something, she gets it. I mean, look at you…one minute you’re ready to pull her head off and the next she’s got you dropping by the office all nice-like, ready to enjoy a pleasant lunch date. She’s good. I’ll give her that.”
Owen didn’t like what this guy was implying and his scowl said as much. “What’s your point?”
Charlie held his hands up. “No point, just making conversation. But man to man, I think I owe it to you to warn you.”
Man to man? That was rich. Only one of them qualified by Owen’s estimation but he wanted to know where the guy was going with his warning so he encouraged him with an “Oh?”
“She’s just using you to write the story that she thinks is going to propel her out of Dayton and into the big-time New York scene. She wants a Pulitzer and she’ll stop at nothing to get it.”
He stared at the man, not sure if he wanted to deck him for being an annoying little pissant or shake more information out of him. Something about what he said made a certain amount of sense and that was the part that bothered him. Piper was undeniably driven. And she had pursued him relentlessly to gain access to him for her research into Red Meadows. Against his better judgment, he asked, “To what purpose? So what if she’s digging into the Red Meadows raid? Who’s going to want to read about that? It’s old news.”
“Maybe, maybe not. William Dearborn was killed in the same way Mimi LaRoche bit it twenty-five years ago. Seems a little suspicious that Dearborn eats it right after sharing some juicy details with Piper about the raid. You know, the cops consider her a person of interest in Dearborn’s case.”
That was absurd. Piper was capable of getting into a heap of trouble, but he couldn’t see her killing someone for a story. However, he could see her being ruthless in her attempt to get information. Had she inadvertently put Dearborn in danger by asking questions?
Charlie’s nasal voice cut into his thoughts. “Why do you think she’s been digging so hard into the past? She needed you for one reason and one reason only…your memories of Red Meadows.”
“That’s a bunch of bullshit,” he muttered, eager to get the hell away from this man and the toxic crap he was putting in his ear, but Charlie wasn’t finished.
“Is it? I don’t know…I’d at least check it out. You wouldn’t be the first Garrett to fall victim to a beautiful woman, no matter how bad they were for you.”
At the reference to his father, Owen nearly grabbed the man by the neck but he’d already turned tail and returned to the safety of the office. What the hell did he mean? He bit back a mouthful of frustration. It felt like everyone in town knew more about the past than he did, even when it came to his own father.
He tried to wipe away the stain left behind from the man’s insinuations but they stuck no matter how he tried to bleach them with reassurances.
Was Piper using him?
His lips formed a grim line when he couldn’t get the questions to stop. Well, if she was, she was doing a bang-up job and deserved an Oscar because she was putting on a damn good show.
Hell, he’d bought it.
But he’d never been the kind of man to go off on vague notions and assumptions. He’d go right to the source and ask her straight. Mama Jo always said it was better to hear it from the horse’s mouth rather than another’s back end.
He just had to find her first.