Lost in Tennessee (13 page)

She snuggled into the blanket, a smile growing across her lips. “Maybe I’ll seduce you.”

“Maybe you will, but not before dawn. We’re sleeping in tomorrow.”

B
utch woke to the sound of the water running in the shower. Seven-thirty. “It’s better than six,” he muttered, rolling over. Right behind the wall, Kate stood naked in a fall of hot water. Her long red hair, her stubborn chin, her creamy skin. She always wore jeans and a cotton shirt. He’d gotten his hands on her enough to know she hid shapely muscle under all that material. Did she wear sexy panties? He’d have to buy her some. Midnight blue. With lace. Lots of lace.

Butch climbed out of bed and into a worn pair of jeans. He fastened the button over his cock, made raging by an active imagination. He limped down the stairs to make coffee and wait for her. He wanted to see her, be there for her, before her day started. “God, I’m pathetic.”

Kate landed in the kitchen fifteen minutes later, her hair in a wet ponytail trailing down her back. “I didn’t expect to see you up this early.”

“Me neither.” Butch shoved the cup into her hand, frustrated by his own behavior. He should be in bed, but instead he leaned against the counter and crossed his ankles. “Feeling better?”

Kate smiled radiantly. “I feel fantastic. See what twelve hours of sleep can do for you?”

Butch surveyed the wiggle in her step and the twinkle in her eyes. She fired on all cylinders this morning. “I’m a big proponent of sleep. I’m going right back there after you leave.”

Kate sashayed over to Butch. He raised an eyebrow, trying to read that look in her eyes. Trouble brewed there with a little something else. He didn’t move as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her soft lips to his.

“Good morning.” She kissed him a second time. “Thank you for getting up.” She kissed him again. “Thank you for making coffee.”

He leaned into Katie, his breath fast and ragged, his fingers itching to touch her skin. “Are you seducing me?”

She nipped his lower lip. “I’m thanking you. How could that ever be mixed up with seducing?” While her words disavowed seduction, her tone embodied it. She dropped her voice to the lowest register, a whiskey whisper that invited him to long, hot nights…and mornings. Her fingers knotted in his hair, holding him captive as she closed the scant inches between them.

Butch tugged at her shirt until his fingers found her bare skin. He brushed his tips along the waist band, stroking the skin as soft as silk. When she pulled away, Butch rested his forehead on hers. “Damn it. Now I’m going to have to get up every morning.”

Kate’s eyes shined as she laughed. She planted a hard kiss on his mouth and stepped away. “What are you doing today after you’re done sleeping?”

“Fawn, my newest ex-to-be, called yesterday. She wants to meet me tomorrow to discuss things. I’ll have to go out to California.”

“I heard you live there. I guess it doesn’t make sense that this is your home.”

“Why doesn’t it make sense?” Unexpectedly offended, Butch’s brows furrowed. Had he fallen so low he wasn’t good enough to call this place home?

“You’re, like, rich and famous, and this house, as great as it is, is empty. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me before. Too much going on, I guess. So if you’re going home—”

“She lives there,” he said hastily. “I live here. At least now I do.” Well, that felt right. He lived here.

Kate unzipped the top of her jeans and re-tucked her shirt. “Then why go to California?”

“What?” Butch’s eyes were on her hands, his mind in the gutter.

“Why fly out to California?” Kate sat on a chair and pulled on a boot.

“Because that’s where she is.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “So? You’re here. And you filed the papers here. Tell her planes go both ways and to get her butt out here. Where are you going to meet her?”

“Here?” He looked at the little table with four mismatched chairs.

Kate shook her head. “You know nothing about negotiating, do you? Because that’s what this is. You need someone on your side. A shark. Never negotiate alone.”

Butch smiled. “You?”

Kate laced up her other boot. “No, I’m too impatient. Tom does all our contracts. Who handles your contracts?”

“Finch.”

Kate stood tall, a woman ready to take on the day. “Call him.” A challenge.

Butch rolled his eyes but picked up his phone from the counter and called Finch, pressing the speakerphone button before it rang.

The man answered the first ring. “Butch? You know it’s before ten in the morning?”

Kate muffled a laugh. “You have a reputation.”

“Who’s with you?” Finch asked.

“Landon Finch, my agent, manager, and handler, meet Kate Riley, my roommate, handyman, and soon-to-be lover.”

Kate blushed, which Butch found intriguing given the depth with which she kissed him moments ago. Importantly, though, she hadn’t discouraged him, and she hadn’t denied it.

Kate leaned against the counter next to Butch. “Nice to meet you, Finch.”

“Likewise. What’s going on, Butch?” Clicking in the background said the voice that talked to them multitasked. Standard for Finch. The man seldom did one thing at a time.

“Fawn called and wants to meet. She wants me to come out to California—”

“And you said, ‘Hell no?’” The clicking stopped, the voice at full attention.

“See?” Kate poked him in the ribs. “I told you that was the right answer. Finch, Butch needs a shark in his corner. Do you know any?”

“Baby, who do you think they used as a stand in for
Jaws
?” Finch’s teeth snapped. “Let me make some calls. Rosencrantz, Bloom, and Cromwell have offices in Nashville. We’ll meet there. There’s nothing like high-powered litigators to scare people into settling. You make a list of all joint assets and what you want.”

Butch rubbed his hair. “I don’t want anything except my equipment and Tessa’s art.”

“You don’t want the house?” Finch asked.

“She painted the entire thing pink. I didn’t take a healthy crap the entire year I lived there.”

Kate wrinkled her nose. “Too much information, Butch. Now that I know you’re in good hands, I’m going to work. Don’t agree to anything without Finch’s okay.”

Butch rolled his eyes again. “For Heaven’s sake. I’m not a child.”

“No, you’re just too nice for your own good. Fortunately for you, you have me. I’ve never been accused of being nice.”

Finch laughed. “I’ve been telling him that for years. Do like Kate says, and don’t agree to anything without me.”

K
ate stepped into her office, turned her computer on, and called Tom. She knew without looking that the three missed calls were from him. They always started their day with a quick call, and she had missed their normal time.

“Something wrong, Kate?”

She fell into her chair and rocked back, looking at the ceiling. “Good morning to you, too.”

He grunted. “Good morning. You’re late. What happened?”

Kate hated that Tom had a sixth sense about her and trouble. Denying it made it worse. Tom always found out. Going the long route of denial only made it louder. “Not with the job. I decided to move to that inn I told you about, Elderberry Farm—you know how I hated that motel—anyway, I was helping the owner clear some brush, and I found a body.”

“You found a body? Jesus, Kate. When?” Disbelief unseated annoyance.

“Monday night.”

“And you didn’t say anything yesterday?” Tom’s voice climbed up a few decibels. Irritation took hold, knocking disbelief to the ground.

Why hadn’t she told him? She didn’t try to hide it from him. If anything, she didn’t tell him to avoid thinking about it, because then the remnants of fear she’d felt on the water’s edge crept in. She shook herself like a wet dog. “I think I was in shock. I didn’t get much sleep Monday night, with the cops and all. I really crashed last night.”

“I bet. Do they know who it was?”

Kate inhaled. “Yep. The innkeeper’s ex-wife.”

“What?” Tom roared. “The old man’s ex-wife?”

“Yeah, well, he’s not as old as I made him out to be. And, he’s famous in some circles. His name is Butch McCormick.”

“The country music star?” Now Tom shouted at the top of his lungs.

Kate rolled her eyes. “Has everyone heard of him but me?”

“Isn’t he married to some actress?”

“Fawn would be his soon-to-be third ex-wife. Angie was his first.”

Tom got really quiet. “Are you sleeping with him?”

Kate pursed her lips. “That’s none of your business.”

“Let me get this straight,” Tom said softly. “You’re living in a house with Butch McCormick when you discover the body of his first ex-wife, while he’s still married to his ex-wife to be, while we are building the highest-profile project of our careers, and you don’t think it’s any of my business?”

“I haven’t slept with him.” Kate knew Tom heard the implied “yet.” “There’s nothing to be done. The sheriff, Butch’s brother, is investigating. Can we talk about work?”

“Yeah, sure.” He said the words slowly then paused. “We have a web conference call set up at eleven to coordinate the HVAC. I emailed you the drawings this morning.”

Kate leaned on her desk, grateful Tom had dropped the topic so readily. She opened her email and waited while the files loaded. He usually was a bulldog once he sank his teeth in something. He must have been worried about the drawings. She’d make a point of being ready for the meeting. “Got it. I’ll review them before the call.”

Construction sites had plenty of days filled with drama, which made days like this worth appreciating. The call with HVAC worked out needed details. The forms came off the concrete pours and looked perfect. Nobody acted like a moron. An afternoon rain rewarded a productive morning with an excuse to head out a few hours early. She drove to Butch’s house looking forward to a quiet evening with him. She didn’t date much and, while she played it up this morning, didn’t have a lot of experience with seducing a man. She thought she’d done okay except it worried her that he didn’t move. If he really liked what she did, wouldn’t he have touched her more? All he did was run his fingers along her waistband. True, the electricity that charged through her system nearly gave her a coronary. She wondered if it felt like that for him. She should do something, she decided, to say she was interested in a little something more, even if it was just a short-lived affair while they were both in town. The timing sucked. Starting the divorce process had to be the worst time to start any kind of new relationship.

Relationship. Now there’s a word. Did she want a relationship with Butch? She’d be crazy not to want a relationship with a man like him. He appealed to her on so many levels. She admired his creative side—it took an amazingly smart and talented person to play and write music. She loved his casual manner. Kate knew she was high strung and she was worse when she worried or stressed. Around Butch, she laughed more, had fun more, liked herself better. Yeah, she’d be crazy not to want to be with him.

Except…she wasn’t staying.

For the first time she could remember, the idea of moving to the next project saddened her instead of excited. Kate turned into Butch’s driveway, resolve taking hold. She was here, now. She didn’t have a year to give him, but she would offer him what she had.

Kate parked her truck on the edge of the gravel driveway, next to a sheriff’s truck. She told herself not to read into it. Jeb stopping by didn’t have to mean he’d solved Angie’s murder. He could just be saying hello to Butch, or, more likely, warning him off a certain redhead. Kate stomped onto the porch ready for an argument with Butch’s older brother.

She faced an unexpected sight—Butch and Jeb standing in the living room, arms crossed and glaring at each other.

“What’s happened now?” she asked.

“The preliminary time of death is between nine and noon on Monday,” Jeb said.

“I was on the jobsite.” Kate pictured her day with an odd curiosity of wondering where she had been at the fatal moment. “I had a phone call at nine, then inspected an excavation.”

Butch glared at his brother. “I was in bed asleep.”

The gears kicked into place, and Kate’s thermometer went from room temperature to are-you-fucking-kidding-me hot. “You think your brother did this?” Your family watched your back, not stabbed you in it. If Jeb wouldn’t defend Butch, then she would. Kate stepped toe-to-toe with Jeb. “I’ve known him for a few days, and I know he’s too good of a man to do anything like this. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Jeb lowered that steel gaze to Kate. “Don’t act like you know my brother. You’re just his latest fancy. Butch is just like Baskin-Robbins: thirty-one flavors, one for each day of the month.”

Butch pulled Kate behind him. “What the hell, Jeb? I told you, it’s not like that.”

Kate clawed her way around the buffer Butch created to yell at Jeb. “You narrow-minded asshole.” The insult stung. How had she let herself fantasize that a man like Butch could have any real interest in someone like her? She may not know how to be a girl, but a woman in a world of contractors, she knew how to stand up for herself and for Butch. “Get your mind out of his bed and out there looking for who did this. He’s being set up. You’d see that if you pulled your head out of your ass.”

Butch pulled her by the shoulders and stepped between the two again. “Kate, stop. Jeb doesn’t—”

“Who do you think you’re talking to? A night in lock up would teach you respect for the badge.” Jeb strained to see around Butch, lips tight as he spoke.

Kate grabbed onto Butch’s hips and leaned until she saw those stormy eyes. “I have respect for the badge, it’s the man behind it that I think is incompetent. You don’t have to arrest me to prove it.”

Distracted by the fight in front of her, Kate missed the storm that brewed behind.

“What the hell is going on?”

Tom Riley filled the doorway. Her cousin always did love a good entrance. A looming six foot four with dark features, broad shoulders, and hands like ham hocks, Tom demanded attention. His long, dark brown hair matched the color of his menacing eyes. A scowl tightened his face with outrage.