Chapter Fourteen
Drea put her phone down on Cujo’s coffee table.
The funeral was set for Tuesday afternoon, thanks to a funeral director friend of José’s.
She looked at the very short guest list. Tears filled her eyes again.
She pulled a tissue from the box, yet another to add to the Kleenex mountain growing on Cujo’s table.
He’d offered to stay home, but Drea knew from Harper just how busy Second Circle was on Fridays. It was enough he was letting her stay at his house, without impinging on his livelihood. Drea hauled herself into the shower and allowed the hot water to pummel her body while she soaped her hair.
By the time his keys clanged on the glass shelf in the entrance hall, she was wrapped in a fluffy white bathrobe, wet hair up in a bun.
“I grabbed Chinese. And you better be naked.” He entered the room juggling a brown bag of tempting-smelling food and a bottle of white wine.
Drea let out a yawn and laughed sadly. Cujo leaned over the back of the sofa, concern etching his eyes as he gave her a lingering kiss. Then he went to the kitchen and returned with dishes and silverware.
Feeling lazy, she watched Cujo set everything up, eventually wandering over to join him.
“Rough day?” he asked, pulling her against him. He was solid, reassuringly so. Something she could anchor to.
“I made a decision while you were at work.” She stepped away from him, pushing a stray hair behind her ears.
Cujo opened the boxes of food, disposing of lids and the yucky sachets of cheap soy sauce Chinese restaurants always seemed to supply. He held up the packaged chopsticks.
Drea grabbed a set.
“What?” He pulled out a chair for her, stealing a kiss as he indicated for her to sit.
“I can’t give up on L.A.” Drea tapped her fingers on the glass table. “We need to go speak to Carter. Find out if he’s certain Walter’s death was intentional.”
“Sweet and sour chicken,” Cujo said, passing her the container. “So we’ll go see him, tomorrow.”
“If it were me trying to figure this out, I’d say there were three things to investigate.
Like, who is Lynn Alexander?” Drea scooped large spoonfuls onto her plate and Cujo added a mound of rice.
“The second is what would prove the information given at the permit hearing was false, and finally, how do you prove what they are doing at the site is more dangerous than what they have permission for?” She ate some of the chicken and groaned in pleasure.
Cujo smiled at her.
“I thought you were going to take it easy today? Watch movies and sleep. All of this can wait until after your mom’s funeral.”
“Sleep’s overrated. I kept dreaming about mom. And then I made calls about the funeral. I figured if I thought about this instead, it would keep my mind off things.”
“I get that, Shortcake,” Cujo said, taking a large bite of food.
Drea covered her mouth. She’d eaten too much. Cujo laughed and she grinned despite herself.
“Hungry?”
Drea swallowed the mouthful. “Definitely. Sorry. There’s a fourth. How do you prove they are killing people to cover it up? And is the governor really involved?”
“That’s five.”
Drea rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. I’ve read every file twice, and none of them are the smoking bullet. It’s all based on suggestion only, but nothing solid.”
“You do remember someone held us up a gunpoint because of all this, right?”
“I know. But aren’t you the slightest bit curious about how it all fits together?”
Cujo shook his head. “Before you start telling me the carnival ride owner did it, Velma, we should understand the risks first. Not sure it’s worth dying for.”
“Scooby Doo references? Really?” Drea chuckled. It felt good to laugh.
They ate in comfortable silence. Cujo topped off her wine.
“I don’t want anything bad to happen, but I feel like I need to exhaust every avenue.” She put her fork down, finally full.
“I understand.” He pulled her chair closer, leaning in for a kiss. Drea savored the tumbling feeling in her chest as his lips pressed against hers. “We’ll go see Carter together.”
She guided his hand inside her robe, watching his eyes darken when his fingers brushed against her breast.
“Have you been naked under here the whole time we’ve been eating Chinese?
” Lifting her by her elbows, he encouraged her to stand.
He maneuvered her until she stood facing him, hips resting against the table.
With a swift tug, the belt of the robe came undone.
Drea ran her fingers through his hair. His warm hands slid inside the robe and pushed it open until she was fully exposed to him.
They came to a halt around her back as he rested his forehead on her stomach, his breath tickling her. She gently massaged his scalp with her fingernails.
“Sorry, Drea. You’ve been through enough.” His hands coursed up the side of her ribs, turning her insides to jelly. He pushed away from her. “And you’ve got work in a couple of hours.” He started to pull her robe closed.
“Please,” she gasped, stilling his attempts to stop.
The heart-stopping tenderness in his eyes said more than his words. She kissed the top of his head in silence, unmoving.
He slid the robe off her shoulders and watched as it slipped to the floor.
Instead of the frenzied lovemaking she’d anticipated, Cujo worked his way down her body slowly. Small nips followed by tantalizing flicks of his tongue. By the time he reached her nipples, Drea was sure she was going to explode.
He lifted her into his arms, kissing her. She rested her head on his shoulder as he carried her to his room.
The comforter was cool against her back as Cujo laid her down.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and connected it to a cable. Music came pounding out of speakers somewhere near the dresser. Wait … was that? Big band brass and drums reverberated through the room.
“Frank?” she asked laughing as Sinatra started to sing For Once in My Life. He knew just what she needed.
“Oh yeah, baby,” he said opening the buttons of his shirt while swinging his hips in time to the beat of the song. As the music crescendoed, he pulled both sides of his shirt from his jeans and opened it wide to reveal his incredible chest.
For once in my life, I have someone who needs me. Cujo paused his striptease to give her a tender kiss.
Drea couldn’t contain the laughter as he spun around.
He gazed over his shoulder at her while he shimmied out of his shirt, slowly revealing all the glorious ink she had once hated.
The shirtsleeves were tight and got stuck over his biceps.
She covered her eyes slightly, wincing as he tried to unravel the shirt that was now acting more like a straightjacket.
He tugged at the sleeve. “Come on, motherfucker,” he mumbled, finally breaking his arms free. “Ha!” He spun the shirt in wide circle above his head before throwing it toward her. Drea grabbed it.
With a quick tug, the belt went flying into the wardrobe.
The slow descent of his zipper revealed black boxer briefs.
Cujo hopped on one foot, trying to get his boot off.
He had the body of a Chippendale dancer, the looks of a male model, and the grace of a drunken hippopotamus.
All six and a half feet of him making a complete fool of himself all for her.
“This was a lot smoother in my head,” he said laughing at himself. Finally boots and socks off, he stood at the bottom of the bed, legs wide, arms up in the air.
Drea crawled to the end of the mattress, slid both hands into the waistband of his jeans and underwear, and pushed, freeing his hard erection.
Cujo quickly removed the rest of his clothes and pushed her gently back onto the comforter. He grabbed her feet, pulled them together, and lifted her legs up in front of him, kissing her toes.
“So … a stripper, huh?” she sighed as he nibbled on her ankle.
“That was all for me, babe.”
Drea laughed. “Really?”
“Oh yes,” he said. He opened her legs and settled between them. “Because now you owe me one!”
* * *
“You don’t need to come with me to see Carter.” Cujo watched the way Drea’s hips swayed from side to side. The way she pulled those jeans up over her practical yet all kinds of sexy cotton panties was making him hard.
Which brought him back to their disagreement. He didn’t need to go with her, but no fucking way was he giving Carter a second chance to hit on her.
“First, it’s always my pleasure to come with you.
” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and laughed as she giggled.
“And second, it’s no trouble. My shift starts in a couple of hours.
” It was Friday, and for once they’d both pulled later shifts.
She tugged a José’s T-shirt over her head, pulled on a stack of bracelets, and moved to his mirror to put on her lip gloss.
Cujo laughed to himself. The thought of living with a woman had been so far removed only a month ago, and yet Drea was here, and he couldn’t imagine his home without her.
She fluffed her hair and turned, giving him a killer smile. Fuck, she was breathtaking.
They drove to the police station and found a spot to park. Call him old-fashioned, but he loved helping her in and out of his truck.
They walked toward the stationhouse. He understood Drea’s need to find the woman, but his was equally strong to find the fucker who’d thought to put a gun to their heads.
But Drea sticking her neck out to find people who might know who the woman was worried him.
Finding her was the right thing to do, but it left Drea vulnerable, which didn’t sit well at all.
Once inside, they asked to see Carter. He didn’t keep them waiting long, and appeared holding a file.
“Ms. Caron, Mr. Matthews. What can I do for you?” He shook their hands, leaving Cujo with the tiniest amount of respect for the firmness of his handshake. He led them down a narrow corridor into a meeting room where they took a seat at a table.
“I wondered if there was any progress in the finding the missing woman?”