It Isn't Cheating if He's Dead (17 page)

“Finn, Gerald was thirty-three when he disappeared.
His dad was thirty-four when he died.” Tears streamed down her face. “Did he
leave to protect me? Was he going to kill himself?”

“But he didn’t. Four years later and he
hadn’t done that. Even sought help for part of that time.”

“But he didn’t come back.” She ran a hand
through her hair and emptied her lungs. “I don’t understand.”

“You may never understand. The only one who
did was Gerald. And maybe he didn’t either. Maybe the others guided him and his
choices. Jem, he was gone long before he left.”

She burst into tears. Finn gathered her in
his arms and rocked her until she stopped. She pulled away. “I’m okay. I am.”
She wiped her cheeks. “But thanks. For being right where I need you.”

They shared a gentle kiss.

“Now you go sleep. Please? I’ve got some
errands to run and I’ll meet you back here for our first real date.”

“Okay, I won’t argue. I’m beat.”

decadent
choices

Jem dressed up, braved the peep-toed
stilettos, and opted for fitted linen pants and a plunging neckline. She painted
her face and curled the ends of her hair into a flip. When she came out of the
bathroom Finn
rawred
at her. She wanted to drop their clothes right
there and fuck all night.

He’d released something in her that had
been dormant for so long. A zest for everyday life. A sexual appetite that had
been gathering dust for four years and had barely been sated the two before
that. She couldn’t get enough.

Her arm through his, they wended their way between
the tables at Rush, his favourite restaurant, and made their way towards Finn’s
requested booth in a far corner. He guided her ahead of him, his hand on the
small of her back.

Women who caught sight of him did a double
take, admired her beautiful man in black denim, pink shirt and ivory silk
sports coat. Then they glanced at her with disdain. Or perhaps jealousy. Hell,
even she was turning heads. More than one man gave her the up-down and a
leering half-grin.

Through three courses and a bottle of wine,
they sat so close their thighs were in constant contact. He fed her bits of his
roasted rack of lamb and spring vegetables and she countered with an offering
of maple ridge duck and butter poached asparagus. She could eat as much as she
wanted, he never suggested she try the diet plate, never raised an eyebrow at
her decadent choices.

They shared
les pots de chocolats
for dessert. When some of the sweet, espresso-flavoured chocolate dripped onto
her chin, he licked it off and kissed her, sucked her lips and lingered, the
taste of chocolate and red wine on his tongue more intoxicating than the
alcohol.

The waiter slid the bill onto the table.
Jem snatched it and held it away from Finn. “It’s on me. Now that I’m rich and
all.” She scanned the bill and raised one eyebrow. “Holy shit. Good thing I’m
rich. How often do you eat here?”

He put his arm around her shoulder and
grabbed the bill from her hand. “Not often enough. And no way are you paying. I
don’t care how rich you are, the man always pays.”

“How very old-fashioned of you.” Her
feminist side should be offended, but the princess in her enjoyed being taken
care of — even if his cop salary would limit how often they dined in fancy
places like Rush.

At the theatre, they chose an old movie
that neither cared to see. The trailers for upcoming films had already started
when they climbed the steps to the last row. They sat in the back corner out of
the beam of flickering light from the projection room. Only three other people
sat in the dark with them, one couple with their heads leaned together, and a
loner in the front row.

Jem watched the screen, her hand held in
Finn’s firm grip. The stench of theatre popcorn and fake butter permeated the
room. The worn tapestry of the armrest scratched against her bare elbow. Heat
from his body saturated the soft silk of his suit jacket where their arms
touched and sent goose bumps up her arm.

The movie started with a huge explosion,
the screen flashed bright and they were bombarded by surround sound.

Finn put his hand under her chin and turned
her to face him. He kissed her with an open mouth, his tongue everywhere like he
was a horny teenager. He reached into her low-cut top, cupped one breast inside
her bra and massaged her nipple between his thumb and finger. He dropped his
head to her chest and kissed her cleavage, then pulled her breast out of her
top and sucked her hardened nipple.

She gasped, her heart raced, legs jelly.
She glanced at the others in the theatre. No one was paying any attention.

He looked her in the eye and winked. “Too
bad you didn’t wear a skirt,” he whispered.

“I’ll remember that for next time.”

She pulled his belt open, unbuttoned his
jeans and inched the zipper down. She reached inside and stroked him while they
kissed.

“Slow down,” he whispered. “I’m going to
make a mess all over my pants.”

“I can fix that.” She bent forward and took
him into her mouth. The armrest between them dug into her ribs as her head
bobbed up and down on his erection. He moaned, his hand on the back of her head.
She giggled with her mouth full of him. She felt like her old twenty-something
self again.

By the time the movie was more than half
over they’d been hushed three times by the couple, and the loner kept peering
back at them to see what they were up to. After Finn got her to orgasm with his
hand over her pants, he zipped himself up and tucked in his shirt. “Let’s get
out of here.”

They skipped down the stairs hand-in-hand
and emerged into the bright light of the lobby. Her face was hot and she could
imagine how she looked — hair mussed, makeup smudged, clothing askew.

Best first date ever.

Finn pulled up in front of the house and
opened the car door for her. They walked up the sidewalk with their arms around
each other. They fell into the front door, pawing each other’s clothes off. Jem
backed up the steps, kissing him and undoing his pants. He followed, unclasped
her bra and stripped off her slacks. Halfway up the stairs he placed one arm
under her lower back and the other under her neck and laid her down. She
wrapped her legs around him and they had sex right there. She held the railing
spindles on either side of the stairs, the carpet runner dug into her shoulder
blades and lower back.

That would hurt tomorrow. But tonight it
didn’t matter. It was another hot installment in their great sexual adventure.

She was on the verge of full release when
he pulled out and rested his forehead on her chest.

“Oh, no. Don’t stop now.” She pulled him
forward but he resisted.

“Not stopping. Just pausing.” He stood and
pulled her to her feet, took her hand and ran up the stairs to her bedroom. He
jumped on the bed and dragged her behind him. He reached over and dug his hand
in the top drawer of her night table and pulled out a condom. “That was a
little too close for comfort.”

She laughed.

“Maybe I should carry one of these in every
pocket.”

After a long session of sweaty sex, they
lay in darkness, her head in that wonderful nook at the intersection of his
shoulder and collarbone. Her spot.

“Finn?”

“Yeah, baby?”

Baby? He’d never called her that before. It
was good.

“I quit today.”

“Smoking?”

She hadn’t lit a cigarette in days. Not
since the night before Gerald’s funeral. “No. Well, yeah, I guess I did that
too. But that’s not it.” She pushed herself up on one elbow and drew random
patterns on his chest with one finger. “I quit my job.”

“What?” He put his hand over hers. “Why?”

“I’m going to keep practicing, but on my
own. I budgeted it out. After I pay off the mortgage I can run a small practice
from home. All pro-bono work. You know, for people who can’t afford lawyers.”

He smiled at her, his face warm and soft.
“Now why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“I could defend people who are actually
innocent. I’d get to hand-pick the cases. And I have enough to keep up the
sandwich deliveries too.”

“Well, I’m glad you aren’t giving that up.”
He kissed the top of her head then dropped his head onto the pillow, his lips
drawn in a thin line.

“You look skeptical. Don’t you trust me?”

“Not skeptical. But a bit worried. I know that
insurance money sounds like a lot, but isn’t it expensive to run a law
practice? Aren’t there court costs and such to pay?”

“Yes. I have to be careful. As time goes
on, I may need to take paying clients.” She squeezed his hand. “But it would be
my choice of cases. My hours. I could turn the second bedroom into an office.
And the best part? No damn partners.”

He nodded. “Sounds like you’ve got a good
plan.”

She laid her head on his chest. “It sounds
perfect to me.”

someone
who needs him

Jem pulled the empty wagon behind her and
left the park. Joe still wasn’t talking, but without Finn around, he was more
relaxed. Tomorrow she’d start asking harder questions. Try to trigger
something, a memory, an admission. Anything.

She slid the van into drive as her phone’s text
alert chimed. Finn’s name flashed on the screen and she grinned. Would she ever
stop feeling like a school girl with her first crush? Ever get used to the fact
that he wanted to be with her, that he liked her? Maybe even loved her. She
pushed the gearshift back into park and opened the message.

‘News about Joseph. You at the park?’

‘Yes, just leaving.’

‘Coming home?’

‘Be there in less than fifteen minutes.’

‘I’ll put on a pot of coffee.’

She couldn’t stop grinning the entire trip.
He didn’t call it her home. Not her house. Just home.

His car was parked out front when she
arrived, far enough down the block that he left her usual spot free.

He met her on the sidewalk, opened the side
door of the van and retrieved the wagon. “I’m not sure, but I think we might
have found Joe.”

“We?”

“Yeah, me and that colleague I told you
about. She’s waiting inside.”

“She?”

He turned and looked at her. “Yes.
Detective Anders. Why?”

“No reason. I guess I imagined you working
with a bunch of rough-around-the-edges men. Dumb, huh?”

“Yeah, a little.” He put his arm around her
shoulder and drew her in for a long kiss.

In the kitchen, a striking woman sat at the
table, a mug of steaming coffee at her elbow. She stood when Jem entered, towering
over her a good four inches.

The woman held out her hand. “So you’re the
famous Jemima? Finn’s talked of nothing else for months. You know, your case and
your fiancé’s disappearance.”

Jem shook her hand. Tall, blonde and built.
Fitted suit, sharp crease pressed into each pant leg. And those legs went for
miles. Like a female Finn. What factory did this city custom-order its perfect
detectives from?

“Nice to meet you. You’ve been looking for
information on Joseph, Detective Anders?”

“Beryl, please.”

Finn handed Jem a coffee and pulled out a
chair for her. She glanced down at her khaki skirt, black tank top and hoodie.
How the hell could she compete with the likes of Beryl? How was he not ripping
her clothes off every night instead of Jem’s? It was better when she didn’t
know other people in his life. Better to let her imagination fill his world
with gruff men with big bellies and no women at all. It was only a matter of
time before his attentions turned to someone prettier, thinner, smarter.

“Jem.” Finn put his hand on her arm. “You
okay?”

“Huh?” She looked up to find him watching
her, one eyebrow arched high. “Sorry, I’m a little tired.” She turned to Beryl.
“What about Joe?”

Beryl pulled some papers from a manila
file. “We haven’t found out who he is, don’t have enough to go on yet. But
we’ve got some photos for you to look at.”

Jem took the four pictures and spread them
out. She eliminated two of them based on the eyes alone. She picked a third and
studied the face. A handsome man, maybe mid-thirties with short, sandy hair and
straight, white teeth smiled back at her. His eyes looked grey. She flipped the
paper over. A description on the back claimed his eyes were blue, his hair
blonde, and his height six foot four. She tossed that one aside.

“Not him either?” Finn sipped his coffee.

“Too tall. I’ve never seen him stand up,
but when I sit in front of him I almost look him in the eye. Not like you, I
have to tip my head back to look at you.”

Beryl huffed air from her nose. Jem looked
from her to Finn. He was blushing.

She picked up the last picture, and read
the back first. Five foot ten, one hundred eighty pounds. Eyes light blue, hair
dark blonde, thirty one years old. Missing since last November. From Regina.