Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I once again glanced around the room.
I didn’t lie when I told Rainy I’d always wondered how she’d decorate our home. What she’d created here was not something I’d ever imagined. I always thought she’d go bold. Bright. Happy. Loud.
This was the opposite. Subdued. Peaceful. Calm.
Her couch was a small two-seater in a muted grey.
The chair was a big denim-covered navy-blue.
The throw pillows, and there were a lot of them, were all multicolored in burnt orange, cream, blue.
Different textures and patterns. The area rug the same.
She had a large cream macramé wall-hanging above her couch.
Next to that were light wood frames on either side with bright green leaves in the center surrounded by wide matting in cream.
In one corner next to the couch was a huge fake fig tree.
The other side had a small wicker table, fake potted plant sitting on top.
Her coffee table was one of those big round things that looked like the wood had been woven together.
Opposite the couch there was a small TV mounted on the wall that looked totally out of place.
Not only because the wall was long and a much larger TV would’ve fit but that one object seemed to mess with the peaceful, calm, relaxing vibe she had going on.
The table she had under the TV didn’t have a gaming system, which surprised me since she had a ten-year-old son, but on the other hand it didn’t.
Her living room said, ‘sit, relax, stay awhile’ but you’d do that having a chat or reading a book, not by watching TV or playing video games.
There was a Bluetooth speaker mixed in with picture frames and nicknacks—a bright yellow bird standing on two wooden legs, a cast iron bull with his head down, an interesting piece of driftwood, three wooden blocks that were stacked.
From top to bottom in black print they read: In a world where you can be anything, be kind.
The space was small.
It was not cluttered.
All of it mismatched.
None of it should’ve worked together but it did.
I caught sight of the flowers on her kitchen table. That too shouldn’t have worked; it was one of those pedestal tables, the chairs very obviously didn’t belong seeing as they were a different shade of stain. The thing was old and dinged up. On its own it was ugly as fuck, yet it, too, fit.
Nothing about this was what I would’ve pictured our home looking like. Yet, now that I was standing here seeing what Rainy had wrought, I couldn’t imagine it any other way.
If everything hadn’t turned to shit, I could’ve had this.
We could’ve had this.
Calm. Peaceful. Relaxing.
All of it a far cry from how I’d lived the last sixteen years.
My cell vibrated in my pocket.
I pulled it out, saw Ethan’s name, and immediately took the call.
“I’m still alive. Just like I was an hour ago when you called and eight hours before that.”
I swear my partner was worse than a mother calling me every few hours to make sure I hadn’t died from some undetected brain bleed.
Instead of being met with the laughter I expected, Ethan was all business.
“Got the ID on our Jane Doe,” he started. “Ashley Monroe.”
In the last few days, I’d tried to remember where I’d seen our vic. I still couldn’t remember and now that I knew her name, that nagging feeling that I knew her intensified.
“Twenty-six. No kids. Never married. She recently purchased a house in the Olmstead Estates neighborhood.”
Olmstead Estates was an older neighborhood east of the Army base. The homes were small but well maintained. I knew there were a lot of call outs to that area, but it was mostly car break-ins and parties that went too late and were too rowdy.
I still couldn’t place Ashley Monroe.
“She teaches second grade at Deer Park Elementary,” Ethan finished.
Christ.
Fuck.
Juni went to Deer Park Elementary. That’s where I’d seen her.
“I saw her at the orientation,” I told Ethan as the memory hit. “I didn’t speak to her, but she was there. If I remember correctly, she was also coaching the cheerleading squad.”
“You’re remembering correctly,” he confirmed. “That’s all I have so far on Ashley.”
Rainy woodenly walked back into the room.
The sight of her alone made me grin. Her coming into her living room looking like she’d spent the time in the other room on the phone fortifying her defenses turned my grin into a smile.
“Listen, E, let me call you back.”
“I can’t get a read. You either sound like you’re trying not to laugh or getting ready to throttle someone. Neither makes sense since you’re supposed to be at home resting.”
Yep, he was worse than my mother.
“I’m at Rainy’s.”
As soon as I said her name, her attention snapped to me.
“Good. It only took you two days to pull your head out of your ass.”
I guess Mother Hen approved of my outing because with that he disconnected without giving me shit for being out of bed.
“Who are the flowers from?” I asked.
She immediately tensed up. Her gaze went to the vase and she frowned. What she didn’t do was tell me who was sending her flowers.
“Rainy?”
“It’s a long story,” she evaded.
“Telling me who sent you flowers is a long story?”
“Yes,” she whispered, and when she looked back at me there were tears swimming in her lower lids.
What the fuck?
“Rae—”
“My best friend, Zoe…” she trailed off. Thankfully, before I had to prompt her to continue, she went on. Unfortunately, what she shared was hard to witness. “She died. Those flowers are from her husband.”
The way she spat out the word ‘husband’ had the cop in me alert.
“He does this.” She swung her hand to the flowers and pointed. “A lot. Do you know what those colors mean?”
“No, baby.”
“Well, I do, because he’s a creepy asshole who keeps sending them.” She was glaring at the flowers when she shared, “Pink, remembrance. White, innocence and love. Red, admiration and love.”
Love?
What in the actual fuck?
“Before we go further about the flowers, everything okay on the phone?”
She transferred her glare to me.
“Yeah, it was my mother.”
I knew that tone. I also knew when she called Barb ‘mother’ and not ‘mom’ or ‘momma’ it was because she was annoyed, which was a rarity. Rainy and her mom were close. I liked that was one more thing about her that hadn’t changed.
“What’d Barb do to piss you off?” I asked.
“Did you know that our mothers are still friends?” she huffed.
“Come again?”
“Friends. Did you know that my mom and her companion have been to Tybee to visit your mom and her man friend.”
I couldn’t help smiling at the way she verbally punctuated ‘man friend’.
“Nope. Though I’m not surprised. They were close friends when we were together,” I reminded her.
“You’re not mad your mom didn’t mention she was still friends with my mom?”
Obviously Rainy was mad about it. I just didn’t understand why.
“No, Rae, I’m not mad. My mom never mentioned it, but I get why. Like I said, they were close. Your mom’s a good woman and I’m happy my mom still has Barb in her life. I take it your mom recently told you—”
“No, Jase, she didn’t tell me. She let it slip when she called me earlier to ask about how you were doing after getting shot. Which is something we need to talk about, because you should probably be in bed recovering and not driving across town. Wait! Are you driving on pain meds?”
“No, baby, I’m not on pain meds.”
She rolled her eyes, stating exactly what she thought of me not taking meds to control the pain in my shoulder.
“Well, that’s good,” she snapped as if it wasn’t good at all. “But you should be resting, not standing—”
“Rainy,” I interrupted. “I’m fine. But if you want me to rest, come sit with me on your couch.”
Her eyes darted to her couch then back to me.
“Um…”
I waited for her to say more. But she didn’t need to verbalize her thoughts. The pink in her cheeks said it all.
“Rainy?”
“Huh?”
“I think we can manage sitting on your couch and not tear at each other’s clothes.”
Maybe. With great restraint.
Her eyes narrowed. I smiled and said, “Don’t give me a dirty look when that’s exactly what you were thinking about. Or I should say, what you were remembering.”
“I’m giving you a dirty look because it’s annoying you can still read me,” she informed me.
I felt that burrow into my chest.
This was the Rainy I knew.
Open, honest, totally out there with her every thought.
Not the closed-off version she’d given me at the bar and my hospital room.
“Yeah, Rae, I can still read you. And as much as it’s gonna test my control being next you, we’re gonna sit on your couch and talk.
When in reality what I want to do, is get you on the couch, haul you into my lap, and show you how much I’ve missed you.
But what we have to talk about is important, so we’re gonna do that.
So, here’s your warning. When we’re done and you walk me to the door, I’m gonna kiss you. ”
Her eyes rounded and the pink in her cheeks deepened.
It was good to know that at thirty-five, Rainy Cross could still be cute and shy.
I was her first kiss. She’d given me the gift of her virginity at a time when I understood how precious that gift was, felt honored it was me she’d given it to, loved her deeply, but we were teenagers.
That part of our relationship lasted three years.
I couldn’t say the sex had started out great; what I could say is we were learning together.
And by the time she’d ended us, she was still shy, but not timid, and with very little effort I could coax her out of her shell and that shy turned wild.
“You’re gonna kiss me?”
It had been over a decade since I’d kissed her.
Waiting until after we talked was going to be torture.
But if I got my mouth on her now, which would also mean my hands, there would be no talking.
And if memory served, it would take all of thirty seconds after I kissed her for her hands to find their way under my shirt and for her to start making sexy sounds that would necessitate me getting my hands down her pants to make her come.
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”