The Mystery of Nevermore (14 page)

“YEAH, POP,”
I said, talking on the phone the next morning. I sat in the chair beside the hospital bed, tugging my shoes on. “Cal—er, Detective Winter was already here. He’s driving me home.” I glanced up.

Calvin stood patiently by the door, winter coat on and his hands in his pockets.

“I’m feeling a lot better. All right. I’ll call you after I get some rest at home. Thanks, Dad.” I hung up and slid the phone into my pocket. “Sorry about that.”

“No trouble.”

When I had woken up, Calvin wasn’t in the hospital bed with me anymore, which was surprisingly depressing. I was beginning to worry about what we had done when Calvin appeared in the doorway. He looked awake and refreshed and was wearing different clothes.

“Hey,” he had said, smiling. “I spoke with your doctor. He’s on his way to check on you. Want a ride home?”

I had been given a clean bill of health early that morning and insisted on leaving right away. Dressed in yesterday’s clothes, I went to the door with Calvin.

He handed me my sunglasses. “I got these from your store yesterday.”

“Thank you.” I put them on. “Hospital lighting is the worst.” I followed Calvin out into the hallway. “Where did you go this morning?”

“Oh. Home. Shower and shave.” He rubbed his cheek to stress his point.

“You didn’t have to come back,” I protested. “Don’t you have to get to work anyway?”

“Don’t worry.” Calvin put a hand on my shoulder and steered me down another turn toward the exits.

“I appreciate it. Neil was going to drive me, but….”

“What?”

“I don’t know if I can deal with seeing him right now.”

“I see.” He didn’t push the subject, and I was grateful.

It was still snowing when the hospital doors slid open and we walked out. Cars parked overnight were buried. The driveway had been plowed and salted for the arriving ambulances, and bless those poor guys who were driving in this weather.

“Over here,” Calvin called, leading the way to a Ford Fusion in some dark color.

“I like this car,” I said, opening the passenger door.

“Do you?” He climbed in behind the wheel.

“Affordable,” I said as I got in.

“Yeah.” He turned the heat on and adjusted it for a moment before cranking on the windshield wipers. “Warm enough?”

“Getting there. Are you able to drive? I mean, the mayor banned driving the other day.”

“Yeah, it’s likely to be in effect again by tonight.” Calvin pulled out and exited the hospital. “These storms aren’t giving us a break.” He glanced at me. “But yeah, I’ve got a badge and a gun. I can do a lot of things.”

I snorted. “Jerk.”

He grinned.

I settled back in my seat, watching the frozen, buried city pass by. “Hey,” I said suddenly. “I meant to tell you something the other day.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“You started sucking my cock.”

“Oh.”

I patted my coat, reached inside, and removed the envelope that I’d gotten in the mail. “I got this letter Wed—no, Thursday. In the mail. No return address or anything, but it’s addressed to the Emporium.”

“What does it say?” Calvin asked, not looking away from the road.

I gingerly opened the letter once more. “‘I must not only punish, but punish with impunity.’” I looked at Calvin. “I don’t know if this means anything about…
anything
, but it’s strange.”

“Is that all?”

“Yeah.” I put the letter away. “Does it mean something to you?”

He was reluctant, but eventually nodded. “Yes.”

“Really? What?”

“‘The Cask of Amontillado.’”

“The Cask—that’s another Poe story.” I swore under my breath. “I should have realized.”

“Have you read that one? I had to search the phrase.”

“I think I have. Isn’t that the one where a man walls up his enemy?”

“Yes,” Calvin answered.

I hesitated over my next question. “Did Mike get the same letter?”

Again, Calvin just said, “Yes.”

“Jesus.” I looked out the side window. “He’s going to kill me.” The statement was some sort of terrifying revelation. “He actually tried yesterday.”

“No one is going to kill you,” Calvin said sternly. “And yesterday he failed.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Don’t argue with me, baby.” Calvin glanced sideways briefly. “No one is going to hurt you again.”

It was difficult to not fight him, to point out that he couldn’t be around 24/7, but I didn’t have the energy to complain. And besides, having him be so defensive of me was sort of nice.

“Sebastian?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you know anything about African greys?”

“Come again?”

“The parrot.”

I turned to Calvin and sort of laughed. “No, should I?”

“Just curious.”

“Why?” When he didn’t answer, I kept pressing. “Does this have to do with
the
case
?”

“I can’t discuss it.”

“You’ve discussed other points with me.”

“And I shouldn’t have.”

That irked me. “Yeah well, I don’t know anything about parrots.”

“All right.”

I let out an annoyed sigh and looked at him again. How unlike Neil. No fighting, no bitching, and he didn’t give me fuel to continue being an asshole. “My dad,” I said reluctantly. “He volunteers at a lot of pet shelters. I know one deals in exotic animals. I could ask him for the contact information. Maybe they can help.”

He smiled. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

I was home not much later, shoving open the front door and ushering Calvin in. “I need to take a shower,” I said while locking the door. “Uh, but if you need to go….” I glanced back at the door.

Why would he stay? He’d been with me all night, drove me home, and the man didn’t—

“I can stay for a bit.” Calvin unbuttoned his coat. “Go freshen up.”

One hot shower, a shave, and brushing of the awful taste out of my mouth later, I felt practically human. I popped in my red-tinted contacts and pulled on a pair of loose old Levi’s and a dark-colored long-sleeve shirt.

Opening the bedroom door, I stepped into the front room. “Look at me, good as new.”

Calvin was standing among the boxes of estate books, looking over my bookcase. His jacket was neatly draped over a chair at the table. “How do you feel?” he asked, turning my way.

“Like a crisp twenty-dollar bill.”

He shook his head, and I think he was laughing quietly. “You hungry?”

I shrugged, rubbing my stomach as it perked up at the mention of food. “I’ll get something later.”

“I can make breakfast.”

“What? No. Come on. You don’t need to do that.”

“I’m hungry too.” Before I could protest, Calvin was walking into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and leaned down to rummage around. “You should go shopping.”

“I did the other day, remember?”

“I recall frozen pizza and ice cream.”

“That’s right. I was having a crisis of the heart,” I said, standing in the doorway.

Calvin looked at me and smiled. “How’s the heart now?”

It actually was beating hard and making nervous flips all the way down to my gut. “O-Okay,” I managed.

He grabbed a carton of eggs and some onion and potatoes. “Scrambled eggs and home fries good?”

“Toast too.”

Calvin nodded and set the ingredients on the counter. He opened the cupboards, moving around like he knew my kitchen. He poured some oil into a pan and began chopping the potatoes.

I walked in and grabbed the bread off the top of the fridge. “So you can cook too?”

“You say that like you’re impressed.”

“I am.” I looked at him and grinned. “I never have guys cook me breakfast.”

“Millett doesn’t cook?”

“Ah, no, he doesn’t.”

Calvin nodded. “I like cooking.” He dropped the diced potato into the pan and added some spices.

I stupidly did nothing but put two slices of bread in the toaster before realizing coffee would be a good idea and started a pot. Watching Calvin was far too great a pleasure over offering to help. He had his sleeves rolled back, showing off the cords of muscles in his arms. He hummed quietly while he worked.

It was relaxing.

And honestly a little upsetting at the same time.

I was falling for him hard and fast. I liked Calvin. A lot. He was hot and smart and quickly becoming everything I’d wanted in a partner. But I had no idea how deep it went for him, and talking about it only felt like it would shatter the precious moment.

“Sebastian?”

I shook my head and glanced up to see him watching me. “What?”

He smiled in that cute, lopsided way. “Do you like onions, I asked.”

“Oh, sure.”

He added the chopped onion to the eggs. I grabbed jam from the fridge when the toast popped. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to fall in love with this little domestic moment. I’d always wanted this. Maybe it was stupid, but sharing the chores and cooking together, spending time with someone in a comfortable, understanding silence—that was what I wanted in life.

Toast sufficiently jammed, coffee perked, and eggs hot, we sat down to eat.

“How is it?” he asked, taking a bite.

“Really good. You want to come by and cook more often?”

Calvin smiled at that. “I find cooking to be relaxing. I need that sometimes.”

“I can imagine.”

He made a face and nodded, taking another bite.

I watched him for a moment. He seemed to have tensed up. “I thought you were an asshole when we first met.”

Calvin laughed. “And now?”

“You’re still an ass. But you’re a great cook, so you can see how I’m torn,” I teased.

“I thought you were a sarcastic shit and your mouth was going to get you in serious trouble.”

I arched a brow. “Oh boy. And how about now for me?”

“It’s still early.”

“What?”

Calvin took a sip of coffee. “Plenty of time left in the day to still get in trouble.”

I snorted and took another bite. “Have something planned for me?”

“I can think of a thing or two,” Calvin said.

I didn’t know how to respond to that. Would he think me dramatic if I asked about his feelings before sex? Because for sure I knew we were going to be fucking. It was only a matter of finishing toast and eggs. But were there any feelings to even be discussed?

I thought about the phone call I had made after being hit.

Sweetie.

Neil never called me sweetie. Or baby, for that matter.

I liked the names quite a bit. To me, though, they indicated some form of affection deeper than just lust.

I looked at Calvin again. What was I expecting from him? Passionate, mind-blowing sex? Yes. Absolutely, 100 percent, God please, yes. But my gut told me I wanted more. My heart told me I wanted more. My brain told me I was insane for even thinking it.

Dump Neil for Calvin.

Oh boy. Jumping out of a long-term relationship and immediately into a new one was a bad idea. Assuming Calvin even wanted a relationship. It was even more of a bad idea to get tangled up with the cop who’s investigating you—sort of. Was this a conflict of interest? Calvin didn’t seem to think so. At least, not conflict enough for sex.

I had no less than a million thoughts bouncing around in my head as breakfast was finished and cleared away. I went to the bathroom, grabbed a painkiller from the medicine cabinet, and downed it with cold tap water. When I exited, Calvin was standing in the front room, staring out the window that overlooked the street below.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, glancing up.

“A lot better,” I replied. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“Of course. Thank you for letting me cook.”

I slowly stepped up to his side, glancing up at him. “So.”

“So?” he repeated.

“I’m ready to jump you, but I guess I’m nervous over whether I read the signs right.” I laughed.

Calvin turned fully to me and smiled. He reached out, cupped my face with his big hands, and kissed my mouth. He pressed his tongue against my lips, and I opened up to it, groaning when the touch sent electricity down my spine.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” he whispered against my mouth.

“Yeah.”

“Promise to tell me if you need to stop?”

“I promise,” I answered.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, and he walked us back toward the bedroom door. Calvin’s hand was under my shirt and pinching a nipple while I yanked his tie loose. A trail of clothes soon led into the dim room.

“Is your head okay?” Calvin asked again.

“Okay,” I confirmed breathlessly.

“Can I fuck you?” Calvin asked quietly between kisses.

What a goddamn gentleman. “Yes,” I begged. “I need you inside me.”

Once I was naked, Calvin helped me down onto the bed and finished tugging off his unbuckled trousers. His massive cock jumped to attention as it was freed, and I was both thrilled and intimidated. Definitely bigger and thicker than Neil. Fully naked himself, Calvin climbed onto the bed and leaned over me, his muscled frame pushing me down into the mattress.

He was so hot, so unbelievably sexy.

Calvin kissed me and briefly rolled his hips against mine. A shudder went through my body as our erections touched and rubbed. “Yeah, you like that, baby?” he whispered.

“Yes! Cal, please.”

“Please what?” he murmured before kissing gently along my neck.

“Please fuck me!”

He bit my chest, and I bucked up against him. “I will,” he promised. Calvin reached down to stroke me slowly, teasingly. “I’m going to shove every inch of myself into that perfect ass of yours. You want that?”

My mind was trying to stay afloat during a hurricane. Yes, I wanted that! All of it, every little bit of Calvin I wanted inside me. I wanted him to stretch me and fill me in ways I never had been. I wanted him to keep talking, to keep saying all of these dirty things to me because I found it to be an incredible turn-on that I had always been embarrassed to ask for.

Calvin was either psychic or a gifted sex partner.

He nuzzled his nose briefly against mine. “You like being talked to this way, don’t you?”