Roxy’s eye peeled open. An arm lay across her chest. Her back was pasted against the chest of the man who’d kept her up all night. Her body ached. Her hair was probably a rat’s nest.
Yet she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. Not that she could see her face. But her cheeks felt like they were about to explode. And she was okay with it. Everything about this moment was delicious and warm, like just-out-of-the-oven chocolate-chip cookies.
Her cellphone vibrated on her dresser. The telltale buzz cut through the silent room. She held her breath. She didn’t want to wake Rafe or lose the warm cocoon. She was snuggly and the air outside was cold and angry.
Her phone silenced and then jumped again. She looked around the room for the time, but she didn’t actually own a clock. She needed the thing in the red plastic case that wouldn’t shut up. But to get to it—she was back to the cold and angry.
Then it did it again. Damn phone. Roxy inched the blanket off her body and slid down, lifting his arm as she inched her chest underneath. Which shouldn’t be exciting. But somehow it was.
Ignoring the enjoyment her body was feeling, she scooted her butt closer and closer to the edge of the bed. Her legs bent as she crept lower.
“Where are you going?” a gravelly voice asked as that arm travelled down her body and pulled her back into the warm chest.
“My phone’s ringing.”
“And?” His mouth found the top of her head with a soft kiss.
Her legs stopped moving. Her body stopped scooching. She wanted more kisses. In more places.
Her phone buzzed again.
Little kiss-blocker.
“I have to get that. It hasn’t stopped ringing.”
“Fine.” His vise-like grip loosened.
She grabbed the phone flashing Sarina’s picture and hit speaker. “There better be an emergency.”
“There is. The cops are here.” She whispered into the phone. “They found the murder weapon.”
“Okay.” Roxy still wasn’t feeling the urgency.
“Here. They found it here. At the office. They’re heading to your house.”
“Wait. Why?”
“You were their main suspect and now they found the murder weapon at your job. Do the math.”
“How much time do we have?” Rafe’s voice suddenly came from right behind Roxy. When he got out of the bed, she had no idea.
“They left about ten minutes ago.”
Rafe tapped her shoulder and took the phone when she held it out.
“Thanks. We have to go.” He hit end on the phone. “Get dressed.”
Roxy wasn’t really into the whole domineering guy thing, but at the moment, she didn’t have time to care. She threw on a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt. She stuffed a bra into her purse along with her phone and threw it all over her shoulder.
“Let’s go.” Rafe somehow was dressed and ready.
She ran through the living room and stopped at the door. No cops in the peep hole. She threw open the door and held it for Rafe. “Where are we going?”
“Far away.”
“What about your place?” She locked the door and followed Rafe down the stairs.
“We can’t go to the hotel. Too many cameras.”
“My parents?”
“The cops will go there next.” Rafe hit the locks for his truck. They both jumped in as sirens sounded off in the distance.
Roxy sat up. “My mom wanted me to watch one of her friend’s houses. The cops wouldn’t know to look there.”
“Okay, but how do we get in?”
“I used to babysit for their kids. I know where the hide-a-key is.”
“So, we’re adding B&E and squatting to the list.” Rafe drove down the side streets, farther and farther from the sirens.
They sat in silence. Miles and miles of silence. Too bad Roxy’s head wasn’t quiet. She couldn’t seem to figure out why the cops were after her again.
Well, she got the whole murder weapon thing. But how did the weapon end up at her office?
“How did the murder weapon get to your office?”
“That was what I was just thinking.”
“Did you figure out an answer?” He smirked as he entered the expressway.
“I’ve got nothing.”
“Where we heading?”
“Blue Diamond, right outside Red Rock.”
A half hour later, Rafe pulled into a dirt-covered driveway. The nearest house was a mile or so away. The house looked the same. Spanish tile roof. Salmon stucco walls with a white-trimmed bay window in the center. It was just like she remembered.
After getting out of the truck, Roxy followed the front walkway past the small fountain in the center of the yard and past the flowers lining the front of the house. Under a small plastic wannabe rock, she found the key.
The front door opened on a dark front hall. Not that it was dark enough outside to need lights, but all the curtains were pulled closed. The house smelled dank, like the curtains weren’t the only things that hadn’t been opened in months. She walked further inside and met eyes. Eyes set in a face a good foot taller than her. Large eyes staring.
A scream ripped from her lungs as she jumped, her back hitting a wall. Rafe ran in the house, pulling a gun from his hip. He hit a wall switch and light flooded the hall. Once the sparkles and pops cleared from her eyes, she saw it. Those eyes.
The eyes stared back. But that wasn’t the worst of it. A large brown paw was raised high over her head. Sharp teeth snarled at her. Her heart froze. Everything froze. Her breath sputtered into icicles on her lips.
But the bear didn’t move. The arm didn’t lower. The snarl didn’t deepen. The eyes were dead. This wasn’t how she remembered the Schmidts’ house.
Rafe came back, all the lights in the house now blazing. “I don’t see anyone.” He didn’t know. He didn’t know she’d just screamed at an eight-foot-tall giant stuffed bear. He never had to know.
“I thought I saw something move over there.” She pointed to the living room behind the bear. “But it must have been light or something.”
Something big and brown. She made her way into the living room. More eyes. More animals stuffed and mounted.
A taxidermist’s life for me hung on the wall.
Oh goodness.
Of all the hobbies for her parents to have… Please let them never find this one. Stuffed dogs in various states of play. An owl. A bird that looked suspiciously like an eagle, but couldn’t be because weren’t they endangered? All with the appropriate fangs, teeth, and claws. Stuffed to the snout, with piercing eyes that looked real. And creepy.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Rafe kept his head on a swivel, looking for the imaginary thing that moved when they’d walked in the door.
“I’m fine. I must be seeing things.”
He holstered the gun that had come in handy scaring the stuffed animal. “I’ll lock up.” He looked out the front door. Right and left. Then he shut the door and locked the locks. “I’ll check the windows.”
He ran up the stairs as she wandered into the kitchen. White tile floor. Faded wood cabinets along one wall. And a stuffed raccoon on the counter. On the food counter. Where. They. Put. Food.
“Oh, hell no.” She took a Christmas towel from the handle of the stove and wrapped it around the raccoon’s body, careful to drape the excess fabric over the critter’s eyes. She slid the entire thing into an oak cabinet in the dining room. She shouldn’t need the dining room. She peered around the corner at the living room and all the animals. Maybe she could move all the stuffed demons there. Let them all stare at each other and leave her alone. But they’d never all fit in the dining room. Dammit.
Yes. She was aware she was thinking about hiding animals that were no more than dolls at this point. But that didn’t stop the eyes from following her. It didn’t stop how real they looked. At one point, they were real.
And she was sleeping here. Probably alone. Rafe had a gorgeous apartment in a high-rise, and a job. Eventually, he’d have to get back to both of them.
She pulled her cell phone out. Whether he stuck around or not, she couldn’t have her mom showing up at the door. Not if they were going to christen each room. Eyes stared at her from the dining room. Maybe they wouldn’t christen that room. She remembered the giant bear. Or maybe not the living room.
She flipped through her contacts and found her mother’s number. “Mom.”
“Roxanna.” Why was it her name sounded so sexy on Rafe’s lips, and annoying as microphone feedback at the bingo hall coming from her mother’s mouth? “Should I avoid the news?”
“In general, or because I might be starring?”
“Roxanna…” Her mother sighed. There were so many implications in that sigh. So much disappointment. Before her mother got any ideas of actually expressing her disgust, though—.
“I’m just calling to tell you I’ll take care of the Schmidt’s cat for a couple of days.”
“What? Why?”
“Well, you asked me.” Very true.
“I find it hard to believe you’d travel out that far west without needing something.”
Also true. “I do need something. Don’t tell anyone where I am. No matter what.”
“What might matter?” Her mother sounded skeptical. How astute. Astute? Roxy’s internal dialogue got all formal when her mom was on the phone.
“Even if the cops come.”
“Dear God. Please tell me the police will not come to my house.”
“I can’t control the police, Mom.”
“Roxanna Penelope Horne.” Whole name. Not good. “What have you done?”
“I haven’t done anything.” Much. “But they are looking into a murder and they have to look at all the people. I didn’t do it. Just know that.”
“I know that. But why can’t you have normal problems, like Danielle’s kids? They just called to borrow money to buy a car.”
Buy a car? She needed a car. “Is that an option? I could use a new car.”
“I gave you a car.”
“When I graduated high school.” Which was—ugh, don’t bother with the math.
“Well, sell it.”
“No one is interested in my piece of junk car.” This conversation was going nowhere. Which was normally how Roxy’s interactions with her mother went. “Seriously, it needs a new starter. You could loan me the money…”
“I could have, but you want me to lie to the cops, so that is all you get.”
Hmmm. She somehow got the short end of that stick.
“Oh, by the way. There’s a cake in the fridge. It’s from Mrs. Schmidt’s baby reveal party.”
“Mrs. Schmidt is sixty years old. How is she having a baby?”
“Her son. Don’t be obtuse.”
Roxy had devoted her life to being obtuse—according to her mother. Didn’t mean she wanted to listen to it. “Well, Mom. Thank you for perjuring yourself, so I don’t end up in jail.”
A long breath came across the line.
“And thanks for the cake.” She hung up after her mom said good-bye with the sound of, most likely, wine being poured in the background. Not a bad idea.
She walked back to the animal-free kitchen and opened the refrigerator, where the promised cake waited. Putting it on the counter, she removed the plastic wrap. A spoon or fork would be good. Drawers clanked as she opened them one by one, looking for silverware and praying there were no stuffed animals. She finally found a large serving spoon with slots. Big, but it would fit in her mouth. She really should put that on her Tinder profile—when she got a Tinder profile. Not that she had plans for a Tinder profile.
A second later, sweet sugar hit her tongue and her heartrate slowed. This cake was the only thing standing between her and a full-blown meltdown.
“Did you want to sit and eat that?” Rafe. He stood in doorway watching her.
The spoon stopped inches from her mouth as humiliation crawled along her skin. She’d been shoveling in frosting like she hadn’t eaten in months. But even so, she didn’t care. Those bear eyes were still staring at her, even though the bear faced the other way and was down the hall. “Not really. Did you want some?”
He went for the spoon in her hand and she nearly bit him. You don’t mess with a woman’s spoon when it’s filled with cake. Was he crazy? She pulled a drawer open, motioning to serving spoons that weren’t currently covered in HER cake.
Roxy shoved more ooey-gooey goodness in her mouth and scooped up another bite, her spoon bumping against his as he infringed on her piece of the cake.
“Do I get some?” He took his bite and stuck his plastic serving spoon back in.
“You’re getting some,” she pointed out around another a mound of frosting.
“Some, but you’re going to go into sugar shock.”
He made it sound like a bad thing. Sugar shock sounded good right about now. Maybe she’d sleep through the nightmares that were bound to plague her all night. It wasn’t just the stuffed animals. It was the cops and making sure they didn’t find her. She couldn’t handle waking up to a SWAT team alarm clock.
But she had to. They were after her. Not Rafe. He didn’t need to put himself in harm’s way any longer. And even though she’d love to have him stick around, she couldn’t ask him to stay. “Thanks for dropping me off. You should probably go to work.” Nonchalant. Relaxed. She was totally cool with him going to work.
“I took a personal day.”
She almost shimmied her hips as she dipped her spoon into the cake. “Really?” She wanted to think the day off was to be with her. Maybe? “Why?”
“Because the first thing MacAuley’s going to do is track me down to find you.” He licked the spoon in what should have been a normal action, but somehow, her brain made it feel salacious. Which didn’t match the words he was saying. “I don’t feel like dealing with MacAuley’s shit today.”
He didn’t want to stay here with her. He just didn’t want to deal with MacAuley. Great. Not that she didn’t appreciate the company and all, but she wasn’t a charity.
Thoughts of grabbing a fistful of cake and cramming it in her face like a one-year-old bounced through her mind. But she was an adult. And dignified. She ran her spoon through it again. “You can leave whenever you want. You don’t have to stay here if you have other plans.”
“What other plans would I have?”
“I don’t know.” Plans to stay away from MacAuley. Which wasn’t the same as plans to hang out with her. They were two totally different plans. They might intersect at this very moment, but it wasn’t the same.
“I have no plans. But I’ll leave if you want me to.” His spoon hung over the cake as he watched her. His eyes searching for something. She didn’t know what. But he just kept staring.
So she just stopped looking at him. She knew he could see the self-esteeem drain down to her toes. She knew he could tell she wasn’t worth getting into all of this trouble. She shrugged as she finished the first piece of cake. She was being ridiculous. Deep down, she knew it. But she also wasn’t some charity case. He shouldn’t be stuck here if he didn’t want to be.
Rafe rested a finger underneath her chin and gently lifted her gaze to his. “Do you want me to leave?” He looked so deep in her eyes that she swore he saw her gallbladder.
“I don’t want you to leave,” she admitted.
“Then I won’t.”
“Why?” She couldn’t understand. He was putting himself in danger. He was aiding and abetting a fugitive. Even if abedding a fugitive was on his list of things to do, he could get anyone in his bed. He didn’t have to help her.
“Why what?”
“Why do you want to stay? You could be arrested.”
“I could.” Leaning down, his lips drifted along hers. Once. Twice. Just a ghost of a kiss.
Her lips tingled in anticipation of more.
“But I’m not leaving you alone with this. Not if I don’t have to.”
Her heart about jumped out of her chest. He wouldn’t leave her alone. Her body pulsed as his breath lingered, mixing with hers.
Sugar. His breath smelled like he’d been dipped in whipped cream. That was totally unfair. His kisses were like drugs normally. But now kissing him would be like French-kissing candy. And she was a fructose fanatic.
Closer. Her eyes shut as his lips met hers. Soft and slow turned to deep and hungry. She couldn’t get enough—she wanted more—she wanted it all.
She wanted him.
He bent forward, and his hands wrapped around her thighs. He picked her up, then moved out of the kitchen and down the hall, walking toward the large bear. She didn’t want to break the kiss, but she could feel its eyes. She swore it was thinking bad things about her. She pulled from Rafe’s lips and glared at the bear. It was still angry.
Her eyes must have been the size of saucers. She swore it had grown. Even though her body was on fire from Rafe’s touch, she couldn’t get past all the eyes. And claws.
She leaned into his skin and smelled frosting. Her insides wept as she said, “I can’t do this with them watching.”
He stopped in the hall. “There are no animals upstairs.”
She smiled. No animals. Thank heaven. “Then what are we doing down here?”
He grinned and adjusted her position, giving his legs wider range. After he carried her up the stairs, he found a bedroom and flipped on the light.
Not one animal. No eyes.
She reached behind him and slammed the door as they cocooned themselves inside. His lips found hers. Her body found the bed. His body laid on hers as they removed clothes and spent the night thanking heaven in various octaves for a bedroom without stuffed animals.