Chapter 23
Nick’s phone buzzed twice. He tilted the laundry basket, dumping a tangle of socks and underwear onto his mattress, and walked to the windowsill to retrieve it.
Nick smiled when he saw Alyssa’s name pop up. She’d been distant for the past couple weeks. He’d started to text her half a dozen times but stopped when he remembered he wasn’t her only client. She was busy. He should respect her schedule. Then he read her texts.
Alyssa: Hey, so I know this is weird, but I kind of need help.
Alyssa: I’m at a party and there’s a problem.
He pitched the laundry basket into the closet and trotted into the kitchen to grab his wallet off the counter, texting as he went.
Nick: Are you in danger?
Nick: What’s the address?
Nick: Is it a guy?
Nick: I’ll kill him.
Alyssa: No! I’m fine. But we’re throwing a party for some really nice nurses. And there was supposed to be a pirate. He got sick and we need a guy to show up.
Nick stared at his phone.
Nick: Are you serious?
Alyssa: Yeah. LOL. Is there any chance you’re interested?
Nick: You want me to be a pirate??
Alyssa: We sort of need one.
Nick: This is so weird.
Nick: Address?
Alyssa: You’re the best!??1207 Oak Court. Lots of cars out front.
Nick: It’ll be a little while.
Alyssa: That’s okay. They’re getting drunk.
Nick: If a parrot poops on me, I’m gonna be mad.
Alyssa: Ha! See you soon.
Nick: Why didn’t you ask Ryan?
Nick: Seriously. He’d be a great pirate.
Nick: You there?
Forty-five minutes later Nick rang the bungalow’s doorbell. He could see—and hear—revelers through the window. A moment later a woman in a cheap pirate hat threw the door wide and said, “Well, ahoy there!” She ushered him into the room, which was festooned with orange and black streamers and filled with women and two men in the same pirate hats.
One of the men lazily waved a plastic cutlass in his direction. “Stay away from my wenches!”
“Aye aye,” Nick said, wondering what Alyssa had gotten him into. Janet rushed forward, grabbed his arm, and led him past an inflated mylar palm tree on a desert island and into the kitchen.
“Thank you so much for coming!” she said. Alyssa was sitting behind the kitchen table. She had a little orange paper plate with snacks and was wearing skinny black pants and a white blouse unbuttoned just far enough. Damn but she looked good. He’d missed her. He gave her his most charming smile. It was a little weird that she’d texted him to come cosplay a pirate, but it seemed like a step forward in their relationship—this seemed social, not professional. She dropped her head to stare at him, and it made her hair do that thing, and— Wait, that wasn’t a “you look fine tonight, Nick” stare. That was a “what in the actual hell are you doing here?” stare.
He smiled at her. “Um, … hi.” She had forgotten the cracker that hung suspended halfway to her mouth. “You needed a pirate? Aargh?” Her eyes snapped to Janet.
“So,” Janet said breezily, “your costume is in the half bath there.” She pointed off the kitchen. “You’re just local color. You walk around and act sexy and, well, piratical. But you don’t have to let anybody grind on you.”
“Well, that’s good news,” Nick said.
Alyssa lowered her cracker. “Janet?” There was more ice in her voice than a Zamboni could smooth in a year.
“My Spidey-sense is tingling,” Nick said. Actually, more than that was tingling. Alyssa’s blouse was definitely … flattering. “I walked into something?”
“Yes,” Alyssa said, standing. “Janet’s murder. Will you help me hide a body in the woods?”
“Am I supposed to dress like a pirate for that?” Nick said. “I am so confused.”
“I may have texted you from Alyssa’s phone,” Janet said. His eyes flew open. Had he said anything smutty? He hadn’t. He was sure. Kind of sure.
Alyssa stood abruptly. “That was inappropriate.” Something occurred to her, and she added, “And maybe a felony.” Janet squinted sideways at her, and Nick looked confused. “Wrongful use of a telecommunications device. They’re regulated, you know!” She turned to Nick and said stiffly, “I apologize for Janet. She—”
“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding,” Janet said to Nick. “But we really, really needed a pirate.” She turned to Alyssa. “And like you said, there’s nobody else with abs like his.”
Alyssa gasped and flushed furiously. Nick smirked and stretched his arms overhead, making his shirt ride up. He grinned.
Alyssa stood straighter. “And I’m sorry that my coworker was a phone thief, may she rest in peace.”
“I …” Nick stood, looking between them. “I’m not sure what to do.” Did Alyssa want him to stay? That abs comment had made it sound like it.
“I guess it depends on whether you want to waste your entire trip out here, or dress up like a badass pirate, have some snacks, and party with some really pretty cool nurses—while helping us out.” Janet batted her eyelashes.
“I get snacks?” Nick said. Alyssa rolled her eyes. He looked between the women, at Alyssa’s purloined phone lying on the table, and at the bathroom door. Sammy would have already had it on and be dancing in the living room with a plastic knife in his teeth. The thought made him smile. He walked into the bathroom and closed the door. The costume was on a hanger on the back of the door. He kicked his shoes off and pulled the pants on—red with thin black stripes that bent around his thighs. These were not pants made for an athlete—they hugged his quads and gluts, and he thought there was a good chance the black sash at his hips would be needed to cover his ass when the seam split. Apparently the average pirate didn’t work out.
He shoved his feet into the soft black boots of leather-like vinyl, stuffed the pantlegs in the tops, and gave a trial “Aargh!”
“Sounds good in there!” Janet called.
“The shirt’s the wrong size,” Nick called. It was white and V-necked with a lace-up neckline, but it was a child’s size—seriously, seriously off.
“Nope. It’s right,” Janet called.
He loosened the laces and tugged it down. It was long enough, it just didn’t cover his chest. At all. “Oh,” he called. “I get it. I’m a sexy pirate, right?” Janet’s earlier mention of not letting people grind on him was starting to make more sense now.
“Burial or cremation?” Alyssa stage-whispered to Janet.
This costume made him look either very hot or extremely stupid. He was going to gauge which by Alyssa’s face when he stepped out. If it was the latter, he was staying for ten minutes and calling it a night. But not till he got some of those little sausages in the crockpot he’d passed. Anyway, nobody seemed to have recognized him, which was a relief. He shrugged into the vest, strapped on his cutlass, and shoved the hat on at a jaunty angle. Then he opened the door and stepped out.
“Whoo-ee!” Janet called. Alyssa’s eyes danced.
Sexy pirate. Yes.
“Oh my gosh,” Alyssa said. “Those pants.”
“Yeah, they’re a little tight.”
“And that shirt isn’t really … a shirt.”
“Guess that’s why their timbers shiver.” He cocked an eyebrow and smirked when Alyssa sucked in her breath. She was remembering the same things he was.
“Okay,” Janet said, grabbing his arm. “Let’s get you mingling with the nurses.”
“I am so, so sorry,” Alyssa said. “But I’m still taking a picture of this.” She whipped out her camera and snapped a photo.
Janet pulled him into the living room. “Pirate!” she announced. The nurses erupted into howls and applause. “I fear for my virtue,” Nick whispered to Janet.
“Yeah, that’s a goner.” One of the women turned the volume up on the music, and everyone began to dance. Nick unsheathed his cutlass and gripped it in his teeth. It would keep him from laughing. He danced with a woman in a green sweater for about ten seconds before someone cut in, and then it happened again, and then it devolved into a general melee, everyone dancing together.
A white woman in her sixties danced past him, arms swaying over her head. “Nice intercostals,” she said. He’d never thought his rib muscles were his best feature, but if you were drunk enough …
Eventually he made his way to the crockpot, found it still had little sausages, and speared some with a plastic cocktail fork shaped like a sword. Then he loaded up the rest of his plate and ate it all. He had damn well earned this. He didn’t know what he was doing here, but the food was good. Alyssa leaned against the doorway from the kitchen, her eyebrows raised, her mouth pinched tight but unable to control her smile. He moved past her, baring his teeth and growling “Aargh, matey!” and pitched his empty plate in the kitchen garbage. “Time to go back to my desert island,” he said, stifling a yawn.
“I can’t believe Janet did this to you. Once again, I am so, so sorry.”
“I dunno.” He shrugged. “The food was pretty good. I’m willing to gyrate for snacks.”
She laughed. “Did you get one of the rum balls?” He shook his head. “The caterers made them because pirates, rum. They’re so good.” She stuck her head into the living room where the party was breaking up. The first to leave had already retrieved their coats from the bedroom and were saying their goodbyes.
Alyssa snagged a rum ball off a pirate-ship tray and raised it to Nick’s mouth. She hesitated at the last second, maybe thinking it was too intimate, but he opened wide and leaned forward so that her fingers were in his mouth. She dropped the cookie on his tongue, and he caught her fingers and sucked them before she extricated them. They held each other’s gaze for a long moment, and then she stepped back to an appropriate distance.
Nick chewed the cookie and his eyes rolled back in his head. He moaned. “Well, my hearty, you weren’t kidding,” he said once he’d swallowed. He had good manners for a pirate.
“They’re really clearing out now,” Janet said, poking her head in from the living room. “I’m going to start cleaning up. Nick, you were such a good sport. Thank you.”
He bowed in swashbuckling fashion, swinging his arm forward and dipping low.
“Just keep the costume,” Janet said. “We don’t reuse them.”
Nick glanced down at his chest. “I doubt I’ll need this again, but it’ll be fun walking into the building in it.” He grabbed his clothes out of the bathroom. When he came out, Janet held out a fifty-dollar bill. “I realize this isn’t much, but it’s what the other guy was going to get.”
“Um, no thanks,” he said.
“You more than earned it.” He shook his head. “Give it to your abs. They earned at least this much all on their own.”
He laughed. “My contract prohibits me from taking outside work except for promotions. I could be in an ad for skates, but I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed to accept your doubloons.”
Janet made fish lips and looked at him, then at Alyssa. “Even I feel bad about exploiting him if we can’t pay him,” she said.
“You could put a couple of those rumballs on a plate for me,” he said hopefully.
Alyssa smiled. “Done. And seriously, thank you so much. I’m sorry that Janet has such a black, black heart.”
“Yeah, but you’re not acting all mopey anymore,” Janet said softly, then discreetly left the room. Nick and Alyssa stood in awkward silence.
“Again, the black heart thing,” Alyssa finally said.
“Nah, pirates like that sort of thing,” Nick said, and then, in case she forgot, “Rum balls?”
Alyssa laughed and piled a plate for him, covered it, and said, “Um, again, thank you very much.” He wiggled his fingers, and she pushed the plate at him.
“It was a different night from what I had planned, that’s for sure.”
“What were you going to do?”
He shrugged. “Pretty much nothing. But in a bigger shirt.” She laughed, gave him a warm goodbye smile, and turned to pack up some trays and decorations. He carried the plate out to his car—because … priorities. Then he trudged back to the back door, startling Alyssa as she stepped out, almost unable to see over a stack of boxes. He’d had to ignore her all evening because those pirate pants were plenty tight, and he was confident that if he’d gotten an erection, he’d have split them. The party was memorable enough as it was. But now he was going to help.
“I can get those,” he said.
“Oh, I’m … okay, thanks,” Alyssa said, walking ahead of him to pop her trunk. He followed her back in and took the next box, waved to the party’s host, and carried it out to Alyssa’s car too.
“Could you follow her home?” Janet called. “She has to carry all that, and it’s pretty late.”
Nick said, “Oh, sure!” at the same time Alyssa hissed, “Janet!”
He turned to her, one eyebrow up. “I don’t want to intrude, but maybe I should at least make sure you get in okay?”
Alyssa pulled her jacket tighter around her, arms across her chest. An October breeze made her hair fly, and dry leaves scurried over the yard. “I got your note,” she said. “With the flowers.”
“Oh.” He hadn’t expected her to bring that up.
“I get that you don’t want to see me again. And that’s okay, of course.” She hurried on as he started to say something. “But under the circumstances, it was very inappropriate of Janet to text you tonight.” She pulled back a strand of hair that floated across her eye.
“I didn’t say I didn’t want to see you.” Had he? That wasn’t quite how he’d worded it. It was just that he had been too forward, and she’d sat slumped in her car … The flowers had been supposed to fix things. He’d seen her admire a bouquet like that on the wall at the museum. Honestly, it had been damned thoughtful of him to send look-alike flowers.
The wind caught dried leaves and sent them scurrying around their feet, and a few rose up around Alyssa in a small autumnal vortex. He didn’t want to go too fast with her. He wanted to grab her and kiss her. He didn’t want to explain any of it to Sammy later.
God, he was fucked up.
“I … I am fucked up,” he said. Clear communication and an honest self-appraisal—Dr. Williams would be proud. Alyssa cocked an eyebrow in a way that suggested otherwise. He sighed. “Um. I didn’t mean that note to …” He trailed off. How did he explain this? “I didn’t mean I didn’t enjoy the, uh, evening.” Alyssa was watching him intently. This was playoff level pressure, and communication was not his game. “And I didn’t mean I wouldn’t enjoy that again. I just have a hard time doing enjoyable things. Because of guilt.”
“You feel guilty?” she said.
“Basically all the time.” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “I was really glad Janet texted,” he said.
“Yeah?” Alyssa dropped her arms and played with a button on the front of her jacket. Nervous, he thought. “Because you assumed it was me and I was asking you to play pirate?”
He nodded.
“You didn’t think I was weird?”
“No, I thought you were a scurvy bilge rat,” he said, and grinned.
She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Well, you certainly took to the role! Maybe they should trade you to Pittsburgh.” He stared at her and she faltered. “The Pirates, right? Wait, is that …?”
“Baseball?” he said. “Yes.” He smiled and shook his head, then pointed toward her car. “I’ll follow?”
“Uh, sure. Thank you.”
Alyssa pulled out onto a quiet residential street. Nick followed her, his car humming quietly—big engine, small chassis, slick lines. He was thinking about the way her honey hair had blown around her face, how he’d wanted to reach a hand out and pull it away from her eyes. But he’d been too forward the night she was painting his bedroom, and apparently the flowers hadn’t fixed it. Tonight, he wouldn’t make that same mistake. He’d help her carry the boxes up, get a peek at what her apartment looked like—frankly, he was curious—and then he’d leave. Because he was a gentleman. Even if he was still wearing a hat with a red feather.