A Vampire's Promise (9 page)

“Yeah, but s'okay.” She yawned and I heard the rustle of bed sheets. “Wassup, Ro?”

“You at home?”

“Nah.”

“You alone?”

“Nope.” She giggled.

I don't know why I ask questions I already know the answers to. If Laycee was at home she wouldn't still be in bed, and the fact that she was meant she wasn't alone. Confirmation came with the sound of a low murmur in the background, which for some reason really pissed me off. How dare she be getting her itch scratched when all I was guilty of was dreaming about the possibility, and then being thumped for my trouble. Would Suellen have hit me if it hadn't have been so obvious I'd just woken up? Taking a deep breath, I reined in my temper. This was not the time to go off the deep end.

“Laycee, when you and Jake meet at my house, where do you park your car?”

I could almost picture the perfectly penciled eyebrows being drawn together.

“Round the back, of course, why are you asking?”

“Uh-huh.” I ignored her question. “And does Jake park out front?”

“Sometimes . . . why?”

“And I'm guessing he's usually in his police cruiser, right?”

“Yeah . . .” She drew the word out slowly, and I could hear the cogs starting to turn in her head. “But no one would see it from the road.”

Ordinarily that would be true. My house sits far back from the road, so I've never had to be concerned about nosy neighbors, and the turnoff from the main road bends, obscuring the driveway for the casual observer. But follow the road a few more yards farther up, and you've got a clear view of my property. And if someone had a reason to be looking . . .

“Rowan, what's going on?” Laycee's voice was anxious, and I could tell she was fully awake now.

“You need to let Jake know the shit just hit the fan.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Suellen knows he's been visiting my house in the middle of the day, only she thinks he's been coming to see me.”

“But you're at work,” Laycee pointed out, confused. Apparently she wasn't quite as awake as I'd thought.

“Gee, guess that must have slipped her mind.” I didn't mean to sound sarcastic, but being smacked in the face will put a buzzkill on the best of moods.

“Wait a minute.” The cogs in Laycee's head were turning a little faster now. “How do you know she thinks that?”

“Because she just paid me a visit and told me so.”

The decibel-shattering screech on the other end of the phone was proof of how mortified Laycee was, and not for herself, but for me.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” she shrieked. “What the fuck happened?”

“I already told you. Suellen knows her husband's been fooling around, but she's under the impression that I'm the other woman.” The corn was beginning to thaw and soften, and I moved the pack around to find a frozen spot. My face was starting to throb again, painfully.

“Oh crap—what did she say?”

The background murmuring was getting louder, and Laycee paused long enough to instruct Jake to “shut-the-hell-up-and-go-put-your-pants-on!” I had to love her for that.

“The details don't really matter,” I said, getting her full attention again, “but she cursed up a storm right after she hit me.”

“SHE DID WHAT!” I held the phone out in the hope of saving my eardrum.

Laycee was beyond upset now. She was absolutely livid. “What did she hit you with?”

“What d'you mean
what did she hit me with?
With her fist, of course.” Did Laycee think the woman had come at me with a baseball bat?

“Don't you go anywhere, Rowan. I'll be there as soon as I can.”

“Trust me, I don't plan on it.”

The frozen corn squished in my hand, so I dropped it in the trash can. A Ziploc baggie filled with ice was a much better substitute, which was a good thing because I didn't have a whole lot in the way of frozen vegetables. I popped a couple of Tylenol and went to lie down on the living room sofa, holding the makeshift ice pack to my face. Even as upset as I was, I decided to cut Laycee some slack for ruining my dream. She had way bigger problems to deal with.

I
was dozing on the couch when she came barreling through the front door like a small platinum-blond tornado. I had considered trying to find my way back to my earlier scene of sensual bliss, but concluded it was probably better if I didn't. For one thing, you normally can't reenter the same dream without the aid of psychotropic drugs, and for another, I wasn't sure if my black eye would come with me. It could put a serious damper on any erotic rendezvous I was hoping to have with Gabriel.

The cushion shifted as she sat down, and I felt her fingers gently smoothing the hair from my forehead. I opened my eyes—well, my one good eye at least—and gave her a crooked smile.

“Hi.” My voice sounded raspy.

“Hey there.”

Whatever anger she'd been feeling, it had been purged from her system on the ride over, and I knew Jake would have taken the fallout. I wondered if he'd ever seen Laycee lose her temper before. I doubted it, since they were still in the honeymoon phase of their relationship. It was quite an experience, and I didn't feel in the least bit sorry for him.

“Let me see.” She picked up the half-melted bag of ice. “Ouch! That looks like it hurts.”

“You should feel it from my side,” I muttered, trying to be funny.

Despite the calmness of her voice, I could tell she was upset—almost on the verge of tears upset, and Laycee hardly ever cried. She turned her head toward the open doorway.

“You better get your ass in here and come see this for yourself.”

It had never crossed my mind that Jake would be with her, and I was appalled to see him standing in the open doorway. “You brought him with you?” I hissed, unable to disguise how pissed off I was. “What the hell for?”

“Because he's got more experience with black eyes than I do,” Laycee said in an effort to calm me. “And for all I know, you need to go to the hospital and have a doctor look at it.”

“Oh.” I hadn't thought of that.

“Hey, Rowan.”

Shuffling his feet in embarrassment, Jake fiddled with the set of keys he was holding, jangling them noisily. I've never seen a more hangdog expression on any man.

“Hey . . . Jake.”

“I can't tell you how sorry I am you've been dragged into the middle of this.”

Looking me in the eye, he sounded sincere, and I had no choice but to believe he truly was sorry.

“Could you do me a favor?” I asked, scooting up into a sitting position, acutely aware I was braless and my sleeping shorts were more than a little threadbare.

“Anything you want, Rowan.”

“Could you just be Sheriff DuPree while we talk about this, and not Laycee's boyfriend?”

“Sure thing.”

He gave me a hesitant smile, revealing his crooked front tooth and reminding me again why my best friend had fallen for him. For a man with such big hands, his touch was surprisingly gentle. I only winced once as he examined the delicate tissue around my eye and upper cheek.

“Well, nothing's broken from what I can tell, but you're gonna have one hell of a bruise. It might not be a bad idea to let a doc check it out.” His expression turned decidedly guilty. “Just to be sure your vision's not impaired or anything.”

“Did you know she would do this?” I said, unable to stop myself from asking. “I mean, when she found out?”

Jake looked at me, horrified. “I swear to God, Rowan, I had no idea Suellen was even capable of something like this.” Glancing toward the open doorway, he searched for Laycee. The sound of the kitchen faucet running told me she was making coffee. “Do you want to press charges? It would be within your rights.”

The question hadn't occurred to me, and I thought about it for a few moments. Weighing the pros and cons, I came to the conclusion it would be akin to throwing gasoline on a fire. When the truth of the matter came out, and I knew in a very short while it would, Jake's wife was going to have to face the fact she'd made a huge mistake.

The failure of their marriage was none of my business, but I'm smart enough to know it's never all one person's fault. There's usually blame on both sides. But the deciding factor for me was Suellen and Jake's kids. They were going to have enough to deal with, and I didn't want to add to the drama.

“No, Jake, I'm not going to press charges,” I told him, getting up from the couch. “C'mon, you look like you need a cup of coffee more than I do.”

 

A short while and one terse phone call later, Jake left to go and deal with his wife. It was unfortunate that what should have been kept a private matter was now going to become a public one. Gossip in a small town tends to take on a life of its own, and anyone still in the dark about the state of the sheriff's marriage was about to become enlightened. Maintaining any type of façade was impossible now. Laycee told him he needed to come clean about who he was sleeping with, and Jake agreed.

They both wanted to salvage my reputation, which was very decent of them, but as far as I could see the damage was already done. No matter the truth, there would always be those individuals who would go to their graves believing Jake had been sleeping with me. Hearing about Laycee would just make them think he'd been sleeping with both of us, probably at the same time. Woo-hoo, lucky guy! I had my doubts that telling Suellen she had made a mistake was the smartest thing to do right now.

“Give her a couple of days to get over the shock and humiliation of everyone knowing,” I told Jake. “She's embarrassed and hurting, and if she thinks I'm to blame, then she won't be going after Laycee. Right now she's still so angry, if you push her she may do something really stupid.”

I knew that neither Laycee nor Jake had ever anticipated this happening, and neither had I, or I would have urged them to be more careful using my house for their lunchtime trysts. Still, looking at the two of them as they sat holding hands, I couldn't help smiling, as much as I was able to. They looked so right together.

“I think one person getting punched out is more than enough entertainment for a Sunday afternoon, and besides”—I wasn't about to let Jake off that easily—“it has forced everything out into the open.”

“I'm real sorry you got dragged into this, Rowan,” he repeated.

“Yeah, well, what's done is done.” I looked down at my faded T-shirt with its frayed hem. “At least your wife can't accuse you of buying me sexy lingerie.”

On that note, and having been reassured that I was going to be okay, Jake had Laycee walk him to my front door. Low murmurs filled the hallway as they said good-bye, but she couldn't hide the deep line creasing her forehead as she came back into the kitchen.

“Are you two going to be all right?” I asked. “This isn't going to be a problem, is it?”

“Going to be?” She shook her head and gave me a rueful smile. “It already is.” Sitting across from me at the table, she took my hand.

“My best friend got punched out by my boyfriend's wife. It sounds like some god-awful talk show.”

She was right, it did. “But it wasn't your fault, or Jake's, not really. No one could've guessed Suellen would do this.”

“Yeah, who would've thunk it?” The worry line on Laycee's forehead deepened. “And it is my fault. I knew the risks that came with seeing Jake. You even told me yourself; it's just that, I swear, Rowan, never in a million years did I think anyone else would get hurt. And certainly not like this!”

Pulling her to her feet, I hugged her. She was beating herself up far more effectively than I ever could. “Laycee, do you think you love him?”

She nodded without any hesitation, and her face took on a glow that I'd never seen before. “I know it sounds like a cliché, but I've never felt this way about anyone.”

I smiled and rubbed her arms. “Well, that's good to know because I'd be real pissed to think I got this for nothing more than just casual sex.”

“Oh, Ro! I do love you, and you know I'd do anything for you.”

“Yeah, I know, but topping this is gonna take something pretty big.” I pretended to think. “I'll let you know if I ever need a kidney or something.”

She tried grinning at me, but the most her mouth would give up was a sorry, half-assed watery smile that told me she was more upset about the incident than I realized. Still, I had the feeling she was worrying herself over things that hadn't happened. Yet.

“Don't worry about Jake,” I told her gently as we both sat back down. “He's a big boy and can take care of himself, and he knows how to handle his wife.”

The look she gave me was doubtful, and with no idea how long Jake would be gone, clock watching was only going to make things worse. Laycee needed a distraction, something else to focus her attention on, and I had just the thing.

“Wanna know where I was last night?” I asked nonchalantly.

Sniffing, she got up and yanked a piece of paper towel off the wall dispenser. She blew into it, noisily. “Sure.”

“I had a date, thanks to you.”

You would have thought I'd just announced I'd had sex on the counter at McDonald's. She was struck dumb for almost sixty seconds.

“You went on a
date
?”

God, it must have been longer than I'd thought. I nodded. “Uh-huh.”

Her eyes narrowed as she slipped into the role of inquisitor. “With who? And I'm responsible how?”

I could almost hear the squeal of brakes on Laycee's mental highway as she made a U-turn. One minute I was looking at a weepy-eyed girl about to drown herself in a vat of remorse, and the next she was ready to gnaw her arm off with curiosity. The sudden shift in her attention was amazing, and not necessarily a bad thing under the circumstances.

“Well, you already know who,” I teased. “After all, you set us up.”

“I did?” Her eyes narrowed a little further, and I could tell she was taking a mental inventory of every guy we both knew. Unfortunately, she needed to focus on the ones we didn't know. I saw the lightbulb go on. “You don't mean the blond out at Rosie's?” She sounded dazed. And thrilled.

“None other.”

“Oh. My. God. Rowan Marie Harper—I need details!”

“And I need to take a shower, so come talk to me in the bathroom.”

I let her take full credit for my date with Gabriel, believing her “grab happiness” line had done the trick. Despite her announcement, Laycee didn't press me for the kind of details I feared she might. I put this down to her guilt about me getting popped. On the other hand, I've never been the gossipy type, but I was glad the shower curtain was between us. Laycee can always tell when I'm holding something back. I wasn't ready to tell her just how
into
Gabriel I wanted to be, given half the chance. Making my evening sound like it was no big deal was a lot easier with a closed shower curtain between us.

 

“Do you think Suellen was having Jake followed?” I asked a short while later as Laycee and I sat on the back porch swing drinking iced tea.

”Yeah, I think so,” she answered in a resigned voice.

“Well, if it's any consolation, they didn't know what they were doing.”

“What makes you say that?”

Looking puzzled, Laycee took her spoon and began mashing her slice of lemon in the bottom of the glass. I stared at her. She's a sweet girl, heart of gold, but sometimes the obvious eludes her.

“Well, don't you think they would have got it right if they did? About who Jake's been sleeping with, I mean.”

She flashed me a guilty look. “Oh yeah, I guess so.”

Putting my arm around her shoulder, I gave her a squeeze. “It's okay, Laycee; everything will work out for the best.”

I felt her relax. “You know, I'm kind of glad it's out in the open now,” she said, “and I think Jake is, too. We both hated all the sneaking around. You wouldn't believe how exhausting it is having to be careful what you say and who you say it to.”

“I can only imagine,” I murmured, thinking this was another item for my checklist entitled “Reasons not to Date a Married Man.”

“I mean, if we ran into each other in a public place I have to be ‘Oh hi, Sheriff DuPree' and pretend that we just knew each other casually, when in reality I'd had his cock in my mouth the night before.”

“Jeez, Laycee!” The visual image that popped into my head was one I could have done without. Especially as it had Jake in uniform.

“Sorry.” She looked anything but.

I sipped my tea, hearing the ice cubes clinking pleasantly in the glass. I hate that most restaurants nowadays serve their cold beverages in acrylic glasses, even though I understand the reason for it. Ice cubes just don't sound the same.

“Why hadn't Jake told Suellen about you?” I wasn't meaning to criticize Jake's character, but I did hold him partially to blame for his wife's meltdown on my doorstep. “I mean they're already separated, so why not just admit he was seeing you?”

“I think he was just waiting for the right time.”

I shifted closer so we were hip to hip and put my head on her shoulder. There really wasn't much else to say, except, “You wanna call for pizza?”

Emotional trauma affects people in one of two ways. It either kills the appetite stone dead or makes you feel like you could eat half a cow. Laycee and I both fell into the cow-eating category. My face was beginning to throb again, so while she called our order in, I headed for the bathroom and another round of Tylenol. I had just put two white caplets in my mouth when the familiar ring tone of my cell phone sounded.

“Want me to get that?” Laycee called out, her voice floating up from the bottom of the staircase.

The thought flashed through my mind that it was Suellen wanting to yell at me some more. Maybe this time she'd be yelling because I
hadn't
slept with her husband and wanted to know why not. Of course I wasn't exactly thinking straight; I mean, how would she have my number in the first place?