Lowcountry Bombshell (A Liz Talbot Mystery) (7 page)

“I’d rather show you. How about Friday?”

“Listen, Michael, let me call you back on that. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Liz, I really want to see you.” He sighed, not happy. “Tomorrow then.”

I employed my sunniest voice. “Talk to you soon. Bye now.”

I pressed end, took three deep breaths and dashed up the stairs to change. I freshened, fluffed, and slipped into a mid-calf length, pink-and-white-checked sundress. My toes were polished in a complimentary color. I smiled slowly. I felt like being barefoot. I dabbed a little Chanel No. 19 behind my ears and on my wrists.

As I walked down the stairs, I heard Rhett barking from the yard. I walked out onto the front porch and watched Nate’s grey Explorer roll down the gravel-and-oyster-shell driveway. I drifted to the top of the steps and waited. Oh my sweet Lord, I had dreamt of this moment—seeing him again, working up the courage to say all the things I wanted to say but hadn’t since Nate walked down these same steps in April. He pulled to a stop and climbed out. Rhett greeted him with wagging tail and a sloppy grin.

“There’s a good boy.” Nate gave Rhett a two-handed head-rub, then reached back into the car and pulled out a bright green Hurley chew toy. He showed Rhett the toy, then threw it towards the forest at the edge of the yard. “Go get it!”

Rhett raced off.

For a moment, Nate just looked at me over the hood of the car. Then he closed the door and strolled towards me.

“What kind of pasta were you making?”

“Tortellini.”

He started up the wide steps. I’d never seen a man look that good in jeans and a chambray shirt. “Have you put it on to boil yet?”

“No. I was just starting the sauce.”

He stopped one step below me. We were eye-level. He reached out and tucked my hair behind my left ear. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too.” I inhaled and savored the scent of evening jasmine mixed with Nate.

“All of a sudden I’ve lost my appetite…for dinner.”

I felt my eyes widen, shocked to hear him say what I was thinking. “Nate…” I struggled for words. This was uncharted territory for us.

“You see, I’ve had ninety days since that afternoon I watched Michael Devlin propose to you on the beach, to think about how I should never have left you here with him.”

“But—”

“I just threw the game. Walked off the field. What kind of idiot does that?”

I smiled. “I’m sure I couldn’t say. At the very least you could have given me a clue you wanted in the game to begin with before you quit.”

“Oh, you had a clue, all right.”

“You should’ve said something.” Maybe I did have a clue. But a woman needs to hear these things. What if I’d been wrong?

“You think that’s what I shoulda done? Just laid my heart right out there and invited you to trample all over it when Michael—”

“Is an old friend and nothing more.”

Nate’s eyes searched mine for a long moment, assessing me. “I guess if he’s chased you around this island, his home turf, for ninety days and hasn’t caught you yet, he isn’t going to.”

“I told you that ninety days ago. Nothing has changed.”

His lips curved oh-so-slowly. “Now see, that’s where you’re wrong.”

“Am I, now?” My eyes searched his for confirmation. I came unmoored, drifting away on bright blue currents that held promise.

“Everything has changed.” His voice was like a caress.

“How’s that?”

“Now I know that
you
know you don’t want him.” He slipped his right hand behind my head and pulled it forward to his. Our lips touched, the first taste so gentle. We breathed in and out together. I grabbed the front porch post for support, half afraid I might fall otherwise.

He pulled his head back and searched my eyes with his. “Once we go down this road, there’s no going back.”

“I know.”

“Are you sure this is where you want to go?”

“Quite sure.”

His look went from question to hunger. I could read that look. It matched the yearning in the pit of my stomach.

In one fluid motion, he climbed the last step, picked me up, and strode inside. He kicked the door closed behind him. Without a word, he carried me up the stairs.

“I’ve moved into Gram’s old room.” When he’d left, I’d still been sleeping in one of the guest rooms that had been mine since childhood.

Nate chuckled. “How many beds are in this house?”

“Five. Well, six. One of the guest rooms has two twins.”

“Good to know. Because right now, I’m not feeling picky.” With purpose, he covered the length of the hall and navigated the doorway at the far end. He laid me gently on the bed, propped against my pile of pillows, then stepped back and gazed at me with wonder.

“Nate?” I said softly.

“What is it, Slugger?” How could he make Slugger sound so sexy?

“You were playing with Rhett…”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Be right back.” He stepped into the bathroom.

I arranged myself in my most alluring pose to make him forget all about me being a little germaphobic.

Nate was still laughing when he returned, holding up his hands like a surgeon. “Sanitized for your protection.”

I sent him my come-hither look.

His laughter settled into a sexy grin as he approached the bed. He sat beside me and caressed my ankle. His hand brushed up my leg to the hem of my dress. As if I were a precious gift, Nate unwrapped me slowly. When the dress reached my chest, I raised my arms and he lifted it over my head. He stretched out beside me and his lips claimed mine, his kiss no longer gentle. I wrapped my arms around him and slid my hands down his back, savoring the solid feel of muscle through the fabric of his shirt.

His left hand held my head to his, while his right explored every inch of me. He caressed my breasts through the lace of my bra until I whimpered. Then he reached around and deftly unclasped my bra, removed it, and tossed it across the room.

He pulled away from me and stood. He slipped my panties off and threw them over his shoulder.

I smiled. “I think you’re over-dressed for the occasion.”

“We can’t have that, now.” His eyes never left mine as he undressed. Then, Nate was on top of me. His mouth found mine again, and I lost all ability to think.

I touched his face. Overwhelmed by the surge of emotion, a tear slid down mine.

He pulled back and looked at me, a question in his eyes. I smiled through the tears and pulled his head back to mine.

Without a word, we possessed each other. We touched and felt, tasted and devoured, held and rocked. Something deep inside me moved, recalibrated. And then we took each breath together. Time slowed, and becoming one, our bodies synchronized.

I yelled something in a language I’m sure only Nate understood, and he cried out in answer.

Much later, we held each other, breathing together. The lines where I stopped and he started were blurred. That sense of fading into one person was intoxicating. He brushed the hair from my face and tilted my chin up, to hold me with his eyes again. “Are we okay?”

“Never better.”

Nate rolled onto his back, pulling me with him. I rested my head on his chest and curled a leg across his. He stared at the ceiling.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“I’m trying to remember how long I’ve wanted to hold you like this.”

“How long?”

“I distinctly remember having highly inappropriate thoughts about you when you were my brother’s wife.”

“Really? You hid that well. But that’s been quite a while. How is it you’ve taken so long to mention these urges?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

“I suppose I do.” Nate had been my best friend for years. He knew better than anyone how I’d pined for Michael, right up until he wanted me back. I hated how many years I’d wasted obsessing over someone I didn’t really want. Odd how the mind games you play with yourself are the most seriously screwed up.

He tightened his long arms, wrapping me tight. “Let’s look forward, not back.”

I smiled. “I don’t want you getting any ideas.”

He pulled back and regarded me from under knitted brow. “What manner of idea should I not entertain?”

“Well, I can’t have you thinking I’m a woman of easy virtue. Waltz in here and drag me up to bed like I’m a common… I expect to be properly courted.”

Nate burst out laughing. “Slugger, I’m well aware that nothing about you is, or ever will be easy. And you are far from common.”

“I’m serious. It occurs to me that we’ve never even been on a proper date.”

“I will rectify that at the first opportunity. Are you free tomorrow evening? No, wait. A
proper
date should be on the weekend. I’ll make reservations and order flowers. Will you have dinner with me Friday evening?”

“I’ll have to check my calendar.” Actually, I needed to relieve Michael of the notion he and I were going out. Oh boy.

“Please do that and get back to me. Now, as for tonight, I’m not eager to move, but I have worked up an appetite.”

“How about I finish that pasta now?”

“I can help.”

I kissed him slowly. “Meet you in the kitchen.”

EIGHT

The next morning I was up at five for my run on the beach. Nate was sleeping soundly. I took a few minutes to watch him just for the pure pleasure of it, but didn’t disturb him. I slipped into a pair of running shorts and a tank, pulled on my running shoes, and headed down the stairs with Rhett beside me. He loved our morning runs as much as I did.

The air was fresh, full of possibilities. The breeze blowing off the Atlantic was steady but not stiff. The only sounds were the soft rumble of the surf and the
thud, thud
of my shoes on the decking, across the walkway over the dunes, and down the steps. The darkness was beginning to pale. At five in the morning, I had the beach to myself, and that’s the way I preferred it. Calista and all her issues invaded my head and I pushed her away. I needed my morning run to give her my best work.

I turned left at the bottom of the steps and jogged down the beach, around the north point of the island. They say that if you live at the beach you don’t appreciate it. They’re wrong. Every morning when my feet hit the sand I think how blessed I am to live in this magical place.

My family has lived on this island for generations. Between college, my unfortunate marriage to Scott, and avoiding home because Michael was married to Marci, I’d spent the last thirteen years in the Upstate, the South Carolina foothills. It had taken Gram’s death and the need to solve that crime to get me home. I’d moved into the sprawling, yellow-and-teak, tin-roofed beach house she left me and took over her seat on the town council. Someone had to fill the void she’d left and protect our island home from developers. In some ways it felt like I’d slipped out of my life and into Gram’s. Fortunately, my career in solutions consulting is portable.

Rhett and I turned around at Heron Creek and retraced our route past the marina and back around North Point. As I pulled the salt air deeply into my lungs and pushed it out again, it felt as though I was one with the island coming into sharper focus in the rising sunlight. I passed the house and ran south towards town. After I passed The Pirates’ Den, the top of the white dome of Calista’s house came into view.

From the beach, you could see only the top half of the house over the dunes. I decided to take a detour and see if Calista had exterior security installed. Rhett and I climbed her steps and headed down the walkway towards the house. Unlike mine, Calista’s wooden path led to a wide pool deck. The amoeba-shaped pool had a waterfall at one end and a hot tub at the other. An outdoor bar with high stools stood at the right edge, next to the waterfall. A pool house with guest quarters sat adjacent to the bar. I rounded the pool house and took the steps down to the sand. I was looking for motion detectors and cameras. Either they were well-hidden, or Calista hadn’t had them installed.

I walked around the house and down the length of the driveway, checking trees and bushes. When I was almost to Ocean Boulevard, I noticed a tan Toyota Camry across the street. I could see the top of a brown head in the driver’s seat. Rhett sounded a warning bark.

“Shhh. Be still, boy.”

He muffed out an indignant noise in response.

The driver started the engine and the car rolled forward. Whoever it was could not have seen where he was going over the dash as low as he, or she, was slouched. Clearly, the driver did not want to be seen.

Since he or she had obviously seen me, I dashed out into the street to get a tag number. When the car was a few hundred feet away, the driver sat up and the car shot away.

The Camry had California plates.

I skipped my usual morning skinny dip in the ocean and ran straight back to the house. The aroma of fresh-brewed coffee welcomed me as I opened the back door and stepped into the sunroom.

“Nate?”

“In here,” he called from the kitchen.

I followed his voice. Oh. My. Stars. There he stood, six-foot-three of prime Southern male, barefoot and bare-chested, in just a faded pair of blue jeans. I had trouble focusing on what I’d had on my mind when I came in the back door.

He grinned. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please—thank you.” Did he know the impact he had on me?

He put three Splendas in a big mug, filled it with coffee, and added just the right amount of cream. Nate and I had been bringing each other coffee for years. Of course he knew how I liked it. But that morning it felt very intimate, significant.

“Thanks.” I smiled.

“You should’ve woken me up. I’d’ve run with you.”

“I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“The sight of you in those running shorts disturbs me.”

“Does it now?”

“It disturbs me to think how gazing upon that much of your long, lovely legs might disturb any red-blooded male you pass.”

I smothered a grin. “I didn’t see a soul.” I remembered why I’d come in early, shook my head to clear it. “Well, except I’ve got to check out a license plate.” I headed out of the kitchen, down the hall towards my office.

“Before breakfast? What’s up?” Nate followed.

I filled him in on Calista McQueen, the particulars of her case, and the man who’d been watching her house.

“Any chance he was doing anything besides surveillance on her?”

“Possible, but doubtful. Hers is the only house within half a mile along that stretch of road. And he went to comical lengths to keep me from seeing his face. If he’d just parked there to check a map or some such innocent thing, there’d’ve been no need for him to light out of there in such a hurry.”

“True. Do you think this Harmony’s death is connected to Calista?”

“Hard to say. Think about it. Harmony was killed in what appears to be an execution, by  someone she knew, at approximately the same time Calista hired me because she’s afraid someone will kill her. On the surface of it, it seems it would be an odd coincidence if her death wasn’t connected to Calista somehow.”