Chapter 11
“Well, you have to admit, it’s kind of an oddity. I mean, who even uses vintage typewriters anymore?” asked Lori of no one in particular.
“I’m not saying you don’t have a point, but can we just talk a minute about what just happened or at least cuddle here for a minute?” There was a bit of an awkward silence before Ryker laughed. “Well, enough of that.”
Ryker rolled out of bed, pulling on his pants and tossing his shirt to Lori, who pulled it on, grabbed a scrunchie she had by her bed, and pulled her hair back. Ryker sat in the chair and motioned her over, pulling her onto his lap.
“I suppose making a joke about breaking your leg would not go over well,” she mused.
“It might get you spanked…”
“Ooh, ropes and spanking… kinky!”
He shook his head and pulled the scrunchie from her hair. “You’re going to be a handful, aren’t you?”
“And then some,” she teased, feeling far more relaxed than she thought she should be.
Lori grabbed her laptop, balancing it between her, Ryker, and the arm of the chair. She googled ‘vintage typewriters.’
“There’s a place here in Bleak Ridge that advertises antique typewriters and supplies. It’s a shop called Everything Vintage.”
Ryker nodded. “I recognize the name. I think it’s here on the main drag, but I’ve never been inside. I didn’t know they had vintage typewriters.”
“They don’t open until ten, and I have to be here at the conference.”
“That’s not a problem. I have some things I have to do. Are you free for lunch? I can swing by and pick you up.”
“That’ll work.” Not knowing what else to say and not wanting to feel clingy, she squirmed a bit on his lap.
“That’s enough about work,” he said, setting her computer aside and then standing up with her in his arms and carrying her back to the bed. “Time for the important stuff.”
Feeling more free and sexier than she ever had in her life, Lori just laughed as he took her back to bed and proved to her just how seriously he took the ‘important stuff.’
* * *
As the rays of the rising sun filtered into her room, Lori woke with the most amazing feeling of well-being. She couldn’t believe the connection she felt to Ryker. She suddenly understood why romance writers loved writing what they did, and she finally believed that what they wrote was no more far-fetched than her own books. Was she falling in love with Ryker? Maybe. But she wasn’t going to get up in her own head, overthinking it to the point where she had irreparably sabotaged whatever might be happening between them.
Lori felt as if all was right with her world until she was awake enough to realize that Ryker no longer snored softly beside her. She rolled over to find an empty side of the bed, and it didn’t sound as if he was in the bathroom. She fought back a rush of negativity that threatened to plunge her into a bout of self-pity. She hated that about herself. She grappled with her sense of feeling let down. He couldn’t just be a one-night stand, could he? And even if he was, would she have wanted to miss last night?
She was in the midst of telling herself that she wouldn’t when there was a knock on the door. Grabbing her robe, she wrapped it around herself and peered through the peephole. It wasn’t Ryker, and she recognized how let down it made her feel.
“Room service,” said the man on the other side of the door.
She hadn’t ordered room service, but the man didn’t deserve to be yelled at from her room. She opened the door. “I think you have the wrong room. I didn’t order anything.”
“No ma’am, but Mr. McKay arranged for it over the phone.”
“He did?” she hoped her voice didn’t sound as eager to him as it did to her.
“Yes ma’am. He made sure the staff knew not to wake you, and he called from his car. I would imagine he’ll be here shortly.”
“He will?” Oh god, there was no way to miss the hopeful, desperate tone of her voice.
“Yes, ma’am. He was very specific. He asked that I set up the food at the table by the window.”
He wheeled the cart in, and there seemed to be far more food than any two people could eat, even if she was incredibly hungry. She noticed a vase with water in it. The waiter saw her looking and smiled.
“Mr. McKay asked if I could bring a vase with water up.”
For some reason the fact that Ryker had wanted to make the morning special seemed almost as important as their sexual marathon the night before.
“Shoot. I should have told them to wait for me,” he said, coming through the open door, freshly showered and dressed in button up Levi’s, a V-neck sweater, and cowboy boots. She wasn’t quite sure, but she thought he was every bit as sexy this morning as he’d been in his tux last night.
Racing across the room, she leaped into his arms, no longer worrying about whether or not she might knock him over. “No. This is perfect.”
With a fist full of an enormous bouquet, he enclosed her in his embrace, laughing as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He kissed her soundly. “Good morning, gorgeous. Just for the record, I want this kind of greeting every morning.”
She laughed. She loved that he was intimating there would be more mornings like this. “Keep me up all night and then sneak out so you can surprise me with breakfast and flowers, and it’s a deal.”
He set her down, searching her face and looking serious. “I warned you once to be careful what you wish for.”
“Is there anything else?” asked the waiter as he headed out the door.
Ryker passed him a small clutch of bills. “No and thank you.” The waiter exited. “What was that look for?” Ryker asked.
Deciding that she wasn’t going to play games or keep things to herself, she closed her eyes for a moment and then looked up into his eyes. “I have to admit, at the risk of pissing you off royally, that when you weren’t here and there wasn’t a note, I had a passing thought that, well, maybe…”
Ryker groaned. “Okay. I probably should have left a note, but honestly, babe, I thought I’d be back. My plan was to go home, shower, get dressed, and be back in time to intercept room service.” He walked to the table and placed the flowers in the vase before coming back to get her. He led her to the table and held her chair for her.
“I’m sorry. You have done nothing that should have made me feel that way, but I guess I have more baggage than I thought.”
“Completely understandable. Since you’re being vulnerable and telling me how you feel, let me do the same. I should have left a note,” he waved off her protest, “but when you didn’t balk at my saying I wanted an exuberant greeting every morning, it made me feel happier than I probably have a right to be.”
She reached out and put her hand on his. “No. I like that it made you happy. It made me feel that way too. I know it’s crazy, but… well, I don’t care.”
He grinned and lifted her hand to his lips. “Then I don’t care, either. I didn’t want to be leaving this morning dressed in my tuxedo.”
“No walk of shame for shacking up with the mystery writer-slash-suspect?” she teased. Everything with Ryker seemed simple, easy, and familiar, as if they had been together in previous lifetimes.
“Hardly. I didn’t want you to be embarrassed…”
“Embarrassed?” she laughed. “Are you kidding? I had sex with the sexy, Pulitzer Prize-winning investigative journalist. I was thinking of taking out an ad announcing it.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I’m in charge of ads and that is so not happening. If there are any ads for bragging rights, in my paper I get to do the bragging. But on a serious note, to be completely honest and open, I’ve been attracted to you since I saw that picture of you and the Murder Club members at Jess and Thorn’s place. I even made sure to find out if you were single and unattached. I was trying to figure out a way to get to meet you. Now that I’ve done that and you’re every bit as wonderful as I thought you’d be, I’m all in. I’m not going anywhere. So, take a deep breath and relax.”
They ate their breakfast, talking about all kinds of inconsequential things from their pasts, and found in a lot of ways they had very similar experiences.
“Do you have a little bit of time?” she asked.
“That’s the beauty of owning your own small-town paper; my time is my own. I have as much as you need.”
“Let me get showered and dressed. I want to see if we can catch up with Ezra Kane. I want a chance to talk to him, and I’d like it if you were there. This investigative stuff is your bailiwick, not mine.”
“I don’t know… you and the rest of your club seem to be doing pretty good for a—and I quote—bunch of amateurs.”
“Yeah, I think some of the cops don’t like us solving those crimes. It’s like they think we’re trying to show them up. We aren’t.”
“It doesn’t matter if you were. I’m the last guy to give a rat’s ass about pissing off the cops. They didn’t get the job done, and you’re bringing closure and justice to those victims and the ones they left behind. Look, good cops are going to see that. Guys like Thorn and Slade will be the first ones to congratulate you. It’s the ones who dropped the ball or just didn’t give a damn who get cranky. So, you just keep doing what you’re doing. I’ve got your back, as do Slade and Thorn.”
Lori popped into the shower and got dressed and ready in record time. She smiled as she left the bathroom without a stitch of clothing on. She’d forgotten to take panties and bra in with her.
“I’ve changed my mind. When at all possible, greet me in the morning like that.”
She looked down and saw that her nipples were stiffening. She might have tried to chalk it up to the room being chilly, but it wasn’t, and room temperature sure as hell wasn’t making desire pool between her legs. She felt the blush in her cheeks, but decided that wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. She grabbed her bra and as she reached for her panties, Ryker sprang across the room and snatched them away.
“No more panties for you,” he rumbled, wrapping his arm around her waist, and nuzzling her neck, letting her feel the state of his own arousal.
“Hmm. That’s nice. I’m going to have to wash my jeans daily.”
“We all have to make sacrifices. But if you want, I’ll do the laundry.”
She pulled on her jeans, having to kind of jump up and down to get them on. She slipped her bra on and presented her back to him. “Do you mind,” she asked, looking over her shoulder.
He fastened her bra, kissing her shoulder. “And when we’re alone, this comes off, too.”
Turning around, she looped her arms over his head. “You’re kind of bossy.”
“I’m all kinds of bossy, but I can behave like a civilized man in certain circumstances for short periods of time.”
“So, you’re telling me, you’re basically a caveman.” She watched his face in the mirror. “Oh my god, you’re standing there thinking that wouldn’t be the worst thing—to revert to Neanderthals.”
“I don’t think it would be the worst thing. Things were simpler back then. Find your woman, hit her over the head, and drag her back to your cave. Simple. Easy.”
Lori rolled her eyes and groaned as she pulled on a tank top, slouchy cardigan, and cowboy boots of her own. “At least you’re honest about it.”
They headed down the hall with their arms around each other. When the elevator took them to the lobby, they exited, and he offered her his hand. She loved how he was giving her the choice of how public to make their relationship, and how much PDA she was willing to allow. Deciding she didn’t give a single damn about what anyone thought, she took his hand, bringing it up to her lips and kissing his knuckles.
Grinning, they entered the hotel’s small coffee bar, and spying Ezra Kane, they walked to his table to join him.
“Well, don’t you two look all lovey dovey this morning. This,” he said, indicating the two of them, “happened awfully fast.”
“The time and tide wait for no man,” said Ryker. “When you find the one you’ve been waiting for…”
“You hit her over the head and drag her back to your cave,” Lori said, loving the way Ryker grinned and Ezra looked decidedly uncomfortable.
Ryker helped Lori into the booth. “Come on, Ezra; you’ve been in love. You know how it is.”
Ezra leaned back and sighed, a wistful look in his eyes. “Once. A very long time ago. Well, I suppose I should be happy for the two of you, and what the hell, I will be. So, Lori, you’ve been the hit of the event. Everybody’s talking about you, the murder, and what you saw. My guess is you’ll sell out completely at the signing this afternoon. The hotel’s gift shop and the bookstore down the street have sold out of your books.”
“Really? I suppose I shouldn’t want them to buy because I was a witness…”
“Dear girl,” said Kane, “a sale is a sale is a sale. It doesn’t really matter why. I started your latest book last night. I have to tell you, it’s damn good. I really didn’t want to like it at all, but I had trouble putting it down.”
“Thank you, Ezra. Coming from you, that means a lot. You knew Cobain a whole lot better than either of us; who do you think did it?”
“Isn’t there some kind of law about interfering in an ongoing investigation?”
Ryker nodded. “There is, but I don’t have a lot of faith in Detective Middleton’s ability to solve anything more taxing than a child’s crossword puzzle.”
“Agreed. He’s left a message that he wants to talk to me. I think somebody misinterpreted my somewhat gleeful behavior last evening.”
“Well, you weren’t exactly broken up about his death,” said Lori.
“No, and I’d had more than my fair share of alcohol. Cobain and I were neck-and-neck for a prestigious emeritus position at Yale. With Cobain dead, I’m pretty much a shoe-in.”
“So, you had motive,” said Ryker.
“I did, but so did pretty much every other writer in that room last night, not to mention Lockwood himself. I’m just worried I’ll be the convenient fall guy. I’m so damn tired of being everyone’s stepping-stone to something better including now, it would seem, for whoever really murdered Cobain.”
Ezra stood and tossed some money down on the table before turning and leaving.
“I don’t know about you, but nothing he said makes me think any less of him as a suspect,” said Lori.
“If anything, I think he’s given us and anyone else who cares even more of a reason to think he’s guilty as sin.”
“But we have no hard evidence.”
“No, but while cops have to follow the evidence, we’re not cops. Sometimes it’s best to start with a theory and work from there. If the evidence doesn’t fit, you may have to change your theory, but at least with a theory we have some place to start.” He glanced at his watch. “Your event is about to begin; you go ahead, and I’ll pick you up about noon.”
She nodded. “If I get free sooner, I’ll give you a call.”
She started to walk away, but was stopped when he caught her hand, stood up, and brought her back to him. Lowering his head, he pressed his lips to hers and when she sagged into him, he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, using it to stroke and tangle with hers and awakening every erotic synapse in her body. Until Ryker, she’d always thought she liked sex, but he seemed to have switched on every receptive neuron in her body.
“Have fun, do good, and I’ll see you later,” he said, tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. “I miss you already.”
She grinned. “I’ve read this dialogue. I miss you more.”
He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, and her lips lightly. Lori sashayed her way out of the restaurant, headed for her first panel discussion, the sound of a low, wolf whistle following behind her.