Bubblegum Blonde (15 page)

Seriously. An
Adonis
.

The man standing in the doorway was absolutely amazing. He wore only loose-fitting, grey cotton pajama pants, and his feet were bare. His hair was a shimmering black, his eyes, blue, and my goodness, he had abs that would've made Hercules himself weep. I wanted to reach out and poke one of them just to see if it felt as hard as it looked.

I was taken aback by the brilliantly white, welcoming smile that he tossed my direction as I stood gaping at him like a crazy person. I was there to get to the bottom of a murder, but what I really wanted to do was throw myself into his arms and let him cart me into that big cabin to do with as he saw fit.

Too long without a man was making me crazy.

Calm down, woman
, I chided myself with an inner shake and tried to gather my wits.

"You're a friend of Lydia's?" Mr. Sexy asked.

I nodded, still not quite able to trust any words to come out of my mouth.

"Well please, come in." He stood to the side and waved me past with a large, well-manicured hand. His hands were beautiful.

I stepped past him into the entry.

The interior of the cabin was absolutely gorgeous. Dark wood ran throughout the open floor plan. Dark red curtains hung over the windows, and neutral-colored, overstuffed furniture littered the living space.

"This place is beautiful," I said once I was able to trust myself to speak without making a complete fool out of myself.

"Thanks. I'm Silas, and you said your name was?" he asked while making his way into the kitchen to the refrigerator.

"Barb," I cleared my throat.

"Have a seat, Barb." He grinned at me over his muscular shoulder and pointed to a long breakfast bar.

I walked over to the stool and set my purse on the countertop beside me, then slid onto a stool.

Silas reached into the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water, then set it before me on the glistening black granite countertop.

He leaned his backside against the opposite countertop and eyed me suspiciously.

"You said you're a friend of Lydia's. How did you know her exactly?"

I took a drink of the bottled water he'd given me and got myself back into investigator mode.

"She and I met at one of her charity functions about a month ago," I lied.

"I see." He rubbed one long finger across his full bottom lip. "And she told you about this place?" he asked. The smile never left his face. "About us?"

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I nodded anyway.

"Uh-huh, she did."

"Is everything all right down there, Si?"

I turned at the sound of another man's voice, and much to my surprise found another work of art staring down at us over the balcony railing. This man had a darker complexion, short-cropped hair, and sported the same drool-worthy body as my host, Silas.

I had to stop myself from sighing aloud.

"Everything's fine, Max. I was just having a talk with my new friend Barb, here." He motioned to me, and his grin deepened.

What on Earth was going on here? I tried to take in my surroundings, but nothing other than the incredibly hot men seemed odd.

The man I now knew as Max eyed me warily, then turned and reentered what I assumed was one of the bedrooms.

Maybe these guys were a couple?

"It's sad what happened to Lydia." Silas's voice drew my attention back to him. "It was a shame." He continued. "She was such a wonderful woman." His gaze held me in place.

"I can't imagine who would've wanted to kill her."

I watched him closely.

"No. Neither can I. You must've known Lydia pretty well for her to tell you about this place."

"We were becoming close just before she passed."

If he knew Lydia as well as he appeared to, then he knew that the chances of Lydia and I being friends were slim to none. I needed to get as much information from Silas as I could before he discovered why I was really sitting on his barstool and threw me out on my rear.

Silas continued to study me from beneath long, thick, black lashes that I'd give up a couple of toes to possess.

"She didn't have any enemies that I know of, but like I said, I was just getting to know her. Do you think it was personal?"

"I wouldn't know." He shrugged his lightly tanned shoulders.

He prowled around the bar and took a step toward me, then another and another, until he stood so close to me that I could smell his heady cologne and feel the heat of his bare chest against my covered one.

"Let's cut the chatter." He brushed the hair away from my face. "Lydia handled all of the scheduling and monetary transactions, but since she passed, we've been a little out of sorts. I thought my day was clear today, but then you showed up on our doorstep, so you must've had an appointment I missed. Lydia wouldn't have told you about this place unless she trusted you."

I stared up at this big hunk of man twirling my hair around his finger with what I was certain was a dumfounded expression. What the heck was he talking about? Scheduling? Monetary transactions?

"You obviously like what you see." He grinned down at me. "And I'm pretty impressed with you myself." He gave me a slow once over. "Not all women who come here for our attentions are tens, but you…" He trailed the pad of his thumb over my jawline. "I'm definitely going to enjoy you, and I guarantee you're in for the time of your life."

What in the hell was happening? I blinked up at him, completely lost as to what the heck he was talking about. What had I gotten myself into?

The thought had just stomped through my mind when he grasped the back of my neck in his big, hot palm, and before I could protest (not that I'm sure I actually would have), his lips landed on mine in a searing hot kiss that I felt all the way down to the tips of my toes.

His tongue slipped in and slid against mine, and I was on the verge of being hopelessly lost. It took a moment for my brain to reengage, but once it did, I knew that if I didn't stop Silas and find out what exactly was going on here, I was going to be in some serious trouble. Pleasurable trouble but trouble nonetheless.

I pressed a hand against his chest and leaned back away from his fiery kiss. He peered down at me with confusion but didn't resist. He looked like he was surprised that I'd actually told him no, but before he could question my seemingly odd behavior, a door closed overhead, and giggling drifted down to us.

I looked up and saw a tall woman with auburn hair come practically skipping down the stairs. Max followed along behind her. She carried her high heels in one hand, her purse in the other, and her clothing was just the slightest bit rumpled.

It was the walk of shame.

I'd seen it a million times in college. This mystery woman and Max had just gotten lucky.

"Same time next week?" he asked. She giggled and nodded. Max smiled, opened the door for her, and saw her out to her car.

Same time next week?

A sexually satisfied woman?

Scheduling.

Monetary transactions.

A large residence secluded away from prying eyes.

What Silas meant when he mentioned women coming to him for services.

Suddenly it all became clear.

I was in a brothel. I was in a male brothel full of gigolos!

I stared up at the rooms and watched as two more outrageously attractive men led one woman to a room from the back of the house, and then another man led another woman down the stairs and out onto the patio.

Holy Nikes. Lydia was running a male brothel. That's what she'd been doing in the motel and why she wanted the cabin to be secluded. Women from the city could come out to the Grove and see their stud without running the risk of someone seeing them. And with Lydia supposedly being a homebody, no one would ever guess that she was at the helm.

The entire idea was actually a stroke of genius. I had to give Lydia props.

"Is something wrong?" Silas asked as I hopped off of the stool like something had just shot me in the bum.

"No, nothing. I just… I need to go. I'm sorry."

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

I looked up at him then at the entryway where Max had returned and was watching us intently.

"I'm fine. I just—I have to go. I'm sorry." I wiggled my way out of the hot, firm grip he had on my waist and made a beeline for the door.

I fished my keys out of my pocket, hopped into my car, passed through the gate, and sped back toward the office. I couldn't wait to tell the girls what I'd found at the cabin. Lydia had been a naughty girl.

*   *   *

I'd left the cabin so quickly, excited to have found out what Lydia was into, that I'd gotten turned around on my way back to the main road. Night was starting to fall as I finally found my way back onto the main street of Trinity Grove. I followed the road leading out of town and turned on my headlights. It was then that I realized that I'd left my purse behind at the cabin. What had I been thinking? How could I have been so careless?

Normally, I always left it in the car. I had no idea what had possessed me to take it inside with me. I'd been kicking myself since I'd glanced over and realized it wasn't in the seat beside me. Thank goodness I had slid my phone and car key in my jeans pocket.

I couldn't believe what I'd just discovered.

Lydia was a madam. She ran what I'd just dubbed a stud farm. Brothel just sounded so snooty.

How had she kept something like that a secret? My recent discovery answered a few of my question and added what felt like a million more. How many more layers of Lydia Hatchett were there to discover?

Charities, affairs, a stud farm.

She'd been a busy woman. How had she even had time to comb her hair, much less still be able to keep up the pretense that she was a homebody-housewife, I wondered.

Darkness crept over the landscape as the last rays of daylight faded. I couldn't wait to get back to my place, call the girls, and share what I'd just discovered.

I pulled to the side of the road and fired off a text to both Mandy and Kelly telling them to meet me at the office first thing in the morning because I had big news to share.

I slid my phone back into my pocket and pulled back out onto the road.

Mandy and Kelly would never believe it. I cranked up the radio and settled in for the long drive back to the city.

I was about fifteen minutes outside the Grove, speeding down the road with a million questions rolling through my head and a Lenny Kravitz song blasting through the speakers, when a pair of headlights illuminated my car from behind.

The bright beams lit up the interior of my Beetle like a spotlight. I tried to ignore the blinding light, but it was impossible. I figured the speeding vehicle behind me was just some teens out for a joyride or something of that nature. It was the end of summer after all.

I kept my eye on the road and hoped the truck would pass me soon. That hope was short-lived. The truck accelerated and, before I had time to react, slammed into my back bumper.

I couldn't have been more wrong. Whoever was driving that truck was no fun-seeking teenager.

My tiny car took a sharp swerve to the right. I held the steering wheel in a death grip and fought to keep my Beetle on the road and out of the deep culvert alongside it. The truck ramming into me was large and black or dark blue in color. I couldn't be certain.

The headlights were too bright for me to see who was driving, but at the moment, I didn't care. All I wanted was to get out of the situation alive.

The engine of the truck roared as it picked up speed to ram into me again. I ground my teeth together and braced for impact. The truck accelerated and slammed into me harder this time. My tiny car flung forward, tires screeching as I struggled to stay on the blacktop. Even though I had the accelerator pressed all the way to the floor, I was now moving at a much slower pace than before. I heard the sound of metal grinding against rubber. I chanced a look in the side mirror and realized why.

My rear fenders were smashed and crumpled in against the tires, causing my speed to decrease. The smell of burning rubber reached my nose. I could hear my bumper scraping against the asphalt and knew it was hanging by a thread.

But that was the least of my problems.

My steering wheel would only turn to the right. I fought with all of my strength to keep the car in my lane and out of the culvert. My muscles screamed in protest as I pulled the wheel to the left in an effort to keep the car headed straight on the highway. My gaze zeroed in on the bridge up ahead.

I was in one hell of a predicament. My car was totaled, the truck was three times the size of my little bug, and the driver, whoever he was, obviously wanted me dead. I glanced out the passenger side window at the deep culvert to my right, then ahead at the upcoming bridge. If I let the wheel go, the car would veer off to the right. My arm strength was zapped, and the car was starting to veer to the right despite my best efforts to keep it from doing so.

Either I could let go of the wheel and take my chances hitting the deep culvert, or I could keep going and ultimately hit the bridge.

I'd heard people talk about their life flashing before their eyes when in a life-or-death situation, and I'd always called it bullcorn…until now.

In a flash, I saw myself laughing with Kelly and Mandy over wine and pizza in front of the television. I saw the smile on my face the day my office opened. I saw my cat Mickey nuzzling me with his little nose, and out of nowhere, I saw Detective Black's mischievous grin just before he kissed me.

I had a sinking feeling that I'd always regret not having the chance to experience that last item…or maybe not.

I didn't want to die, and I'd be darned if I let some schmuck take my life before I was finished living it.

I took a deep breath. I would not die tonight.

The driver of the truck saw his opportunity to slam into me again and took it.

Only this time I saw him coming.

I had two choices. Turn the wheel to the right and aim for the culvert when he hit me or slam head-on into the bridge. The way I saw it, there was only one option that I could possibly live through. I took a deep breath and braced myself for impact.