The Sex On Beach Book Club (6 page)

Wes made a noise, then slid his finger deeper until he plunged inside of her. He lifted his head, watched her as he stroked her.

A loud knock startled both of them.

Wes stilled, but kept his finger inside of her. “Expecting someone? Now is not a good time.”

“I don't know who it could be. Unless…” She was going to kill them. Shoot them with her gun. Then kick them.

He pulled her tighter against his chest and whispered into her ear, “Stay quiet, they'll go away.” He shoved her shorts and panties farther over to slide in a second finger.

She nearly came right then. Except that a dead man yelled out, “Hey! Holly, you in there? We got pizza.”

“Fuck,” Wes snarled in her ear. “Boyfriends?”

She put her hand on his wrist, forcing his hand out, and rearranged her panties and shorts. She couldn't do anything about her erect nipples. She took a step then turned around. “Worse, brothers,” she answered, and immediately saw that Wes had a bigger problem than she did.

Much bigger. His erection shoved against the front of his jeans. If her soon-to-be-dead brothers weren't standing at the door—God, she was going to kick both their asses. “Go in the kitchen, or bedroom, I'll get rid of them.”

Wes looked at her like she'd grown a third boob. “No.”

She looked down. “Uh, Wes…”

His expression turned pained. “Seriously, Holly, do you think I don't know that I'm sporting a massive boner? So how many brothers? And no,” he said when she opened her mouth. “I won't hide like a teenaged horn dog.”

“Okay.” She wasn't sure what to make of that. A small part of her was pleased, but most of her was sexually turned on and ready to kill her stupid brothers. “Two brothers,” she added, and walked to the door as Seth pounded again.

Holly yanked open the door. “Get lost. I'm busy.”

Seth put his hands on her shoulders and walked her backwards to unblock the door while Joe carried in a large pizza box. Seth said, “We heard about the murder.” He stopped short five feet into her living room.

Joe stood next to him with the pizza box.

Holly glared at their backs. “Leave. Now. Or I'm getting my gun.”

Joe turned around and leveled his blue gaze on her. “Date?”

“Out!”

Seth glanced back over his shoulder. “Dad's worried about you, AP. He's having a bad day, so Joe and I said we'd check on you.”

Holly rolled her eyes. “You're a lying sack of dog shit, Seth. Dad's on a fishing trip with three buddies, and I talked to him on the phone twice.”

Seth grinned. “He could still be worried. Maybe I talked to him on the phone, too.”

Joe turned back to Wes. “Are you staying for pizza? I'm Joe, Holly's brother. This is Seth.” He walked by Wes into the kitchen.

Wes turned and followed Joe. Holly heard him introduce himself but she was busy trying to think of where she could bury Seth and Joe's bodies.

“Might want to close the door, Hol. Probably too late to put on a bra.” Seth went into the kitchen.

Holly slammed the door. Hard.

 

The next morning Wes arrived at Holly's condo around ten
A
.
M
. Holly opened the door wearing a pair of low-cut jeans and a black tank top. Her hair was scooped up on her head, making his hand itch to let it down. He wanted to touch her everywhere. Sexual frustration was screwing with his concentration. Her brothers had made damn sure he left before they had last night.

Without waiting for her invitation, he stepped in, pulled her to him, and kissed her. “Good morning.” He looked down at her silver blue eyes.

“If you're done playing around, we have work to do.”

He grinned. “Cranky in the mornings, are we? I didn't notice it when your tongue was in my mouth.”

Holly pushed him away, shut the door, and stalked over to her computer. “My brothers didn't leave until one
A
.
M
. I'm too tired to figure out the best way to kill them. I'll do it tomorrow.”

Wes moved up behind her. “Holly, they were just concerned about you. In case I turned out to be a deranged killer who offs people in my bookstore.”

She lifted a cup of coffee off her desk and sank into her chair. “That's what pisses me off. I don't need bodyguards or baby-sitters.”

“Can't really blame them. Monty and I went by the bookstore this morning to make arrangements to have it cleaned.” His gut tightened in anger. Was Cullen's murder connected to his past?

Holly said, “There are special cleaners who handle crime scene cleanup.”

He nodded. “I know. They'll be there later today. I cleared it with your friend, Detective Bulldog. I'm going to keep the store closed at least until next week.” Since he didn't know what was going on, he had to protect his customers.

She lifted her blue gaze. “You said you went to your bookstore with Monty? Who's that?”

Grinning, he said, “The dog. Remember? The one you rescued from under my deck?” He certainly did. He'd had the wicked pleasure of watching her curvy ass as she crawled under his deck.

She furrowed her forehead. “Monty? What kind of weenie name is Monty?” Then she widened her eyes. “Where is the dog? He's not in your car, is he?”

“Monty is with my neighbor until I get home.” Fixing a stern look on his face, he added, “Monty is not a weenie name. Take that back. You don't go insulting a man's dog.”

Lifting her brows, she said, “If you can't take the insults, don't give your dog a weenie name. Duke is a good name. Or maybe Boss. Or Sabbath. Or Rock. Those are tough names.”

He leaned down, putting his face right up to hers. “But you didn't want the dog, remember? Or any animals.” He lifted his head to crane his neck in an exaggerated attempt to look around her condo. “Hell, I don't even see a fish or a hamster.”

“What do I look like, book boy, a pet store owner? I'm a PI. I work. I can't worry about feeding a stupid fish.”

With his nose an inch from hers, he said, “Commitment phobia?” He wanted to know more about her. He wanted to know everything about her. What had formed and cemented the chip on her shoulder? What made her need to be so tough? And yet he'd had glimpses of Holly's softer side. She'd cut Tanya some slack, and she'd helped rescue Monty. Then pushed Monty away, when Wes had practically felt her longing to hold and play with the puppy.

She narrowed her eyes. “Been watching too much Dr. Phil, Brockman? Newsflash, women don't find pop psychobabble sexy.”

He put his hand on her thigh. “You find me sexy. Want me to prove it?”

She grabbed his wrist and moved his hand. “You're paying me to work.” She turned and studied her computer screen.

Wes knew he was getting to her. But she was right, he had to focus on finding out who killed Cullen in his bookstore and why. He turned to look at her computer monitor. “What's this?”

She sipped some of her coffee. “Some asshole's Web site. He goes by the name The O'Man. He does podcasts on Thursday and Sunday on his site. Looks like he hasn't gotten the podcast up for today, since it's Thursday and I don't see a new one posted.”

Wes looked at the front page, which read “
Women Are Easy If You Have The Right Tool
.” He shifted his gaze to Holly. “Any particular reason you're reading this guy's blog? Is it connected to Cullen's murder?”

A guilty little grin slid over her mouth. “No, nothing to do with the case. I was taking care of a little personal business before getting to work.”

Wasn't this interesting. “You have personal business with this blog?”

“It's my brothers' fault. They sent me this blog to annoy me, and now I'm curious who this guy is. But before checking this Web site this morning, I spent a few minutes signing my brothers up for e-mail newsletters from Web sites on how to get in touch with your feminine side, an erectile dysfunction support group, freedom from the closet, transvestite tips, and a few other fun sites. Then because Joe and Seth are the ones that showed me The O'Man Web site, I went on to see if I could find any clues to The O'Man's identity.”

“Because?” Why did she want to know his identity?

She shrugged. “If he really dated and slept with these women, I doubt they realize they are being talked about on his blog for public entertainment.”

Ah. Justice was important to Holly. So was revenge, he had to grin at her methods of getting back at her brothers for interrupting them last night. Ignoring the Web site, he looked at Holly. “My sister would have signed me up for the erectile dysfunction group and beauty tips for babes.” He couldn't help the nostalgic smile as he thought of Michelle. She and Holly had some similar traits. Neither one were pushovers.

“Would have?” Holly leaned forward and set her coffee cup on the desk. “Is your sister dead?”

Christ.
He was usually much more careful. To give himself a minute, he picked up her cup and drank some of the coffee. Then he said, “We had an argument and don't talk now. We should get going.”

Holly touched his leg for a moment, then stood up. “I'd like to talk to your two clerks first.”

His throat felt strange at her quiet sympathy, or was it understanding? Wes hadn't had that kind of intimacy with a woman in years. He hadn't realized how goddamned much he had missed it until Holly. He drank more of her coffee to wash down the feeling, and said, “Kelly and Jodi are coming back from San Diego today. We'll have to wait until they call me when they're back in town.”

She nodded. “Helene, then. Let's go. I'll drive.”

 

Holly drove her white Nissan Maxima fast and skillfully through the town. Goleta ran along the edge of the Pacific Ocean, with the Santa Ynez Mountains rising up on the other side. It was a beautiful town that offered crisp beaches, a rich history, and a comfortable lifestyle. Wes was thinking about how little he missed the cutthroat world he'd left behind in Los Angeles. Who would have thought that he would end up owning a bookstore in a beach and college town? Holly's voice broke into his thoughts.

“What does Helene do?”

He had to think about that for a few seconds. “She calls herself a gift consultant, for corporate and personal occasions. I believe she works out of her home and has a presence on the Internet. She's been in the book club about four months.”

“What does she talk about?”

He shrugged. “Mostly books or movies. Sometimes sports. She likes baseball and is a Giants fan. I've heard her talk about hairdressers, clothes, TV shows, and that kind of thing with the other women, general chitchat.”

“What's your impression of her overall?”

Wes noted that she asked good questions. “Helene thinks well of herself, but she's nice enough.”

Holly thought about her own impression of Helene from the book club. “It looked like she belongs to the country club.”

“She has a bit of the money look, but she would need it for more upscale clients. She has to visit clients and make the right impression to get them to trust her to come up with the right gifts.” Wes looked over at her. “The corporate world spends a lot of money on gifts.”

Her gaze sharpened. “Do they? You've had experience in the corporate world?”

He closed his mouth.
Idiot.
What was it about Holly that made him reveal parts of himself that he'd had no trouble keeping quiet in the past?

She turned on the correct street and parked in front of Helene's house. “Her home is modest.”

Wes agreed. It was a one-story white house with a brick chimney and blue shutters.

She turned to him and said, “I want you to let me do the talking. You're just here to reassure Helene so she'll talk to me.”

He kept a straight face. “Yes, dear.”

She put the car in park and turned a serious gaze on him. “You hired me to do a job, Wes. Let me do it.”

“I intend to. But I know Helene and I'm sure she'll talk to me. I think you're tough enough to deal with that.” He turned and got out of the car, thinking that Holly really liked to be in control. On the other hand, she had no way of knowing that Wes had years of experience in schmoozing and persuading people to do what he wanted. He met her on the sidewalk and they both headed up to the front door. Holly rang the doorbell.

Finally Helene answered the door. “Wes, what are you doing here?” Helene swept her cool gaze to Holly. “And you, Holly is it?”

Holly stepped forward. “Holly Hillbay. I'm a private investigator. Wes has hired me, and we'd like a few minutes of your time.”

Helene looked right at him. “I have nothing to say to you, Wes. My lawyer will be contacting you if you keep bothering me.” She slammed the door.