124. Crystal
CRYSTAL
LAYTON
I stay in my room for the rest of the evening. My dick is uncooperative with the plans I’m making, and it pisses me off.
I can’t very well tell her all the things I want to do to her and not step up and perform. Yet every word was true. Losing myself in Olivia Morgan would be the ultimate escape.
I’ve said it before, but her mind is sexy as fuck. Her body could be carved in rock. And she’s here. For me. Because I was worth the risk.
For one moment, a warm rush steals through my body.
I lost Mom’s texts—her praise and admonition, everything so precious to me—but I’d already gained a woman who might be the same kind of encouragement.
Livy is no pushover. She won’t let me cop out on her or on myself.
She calls me on my bullshit. And she does it in a way I beg for more.
I grab my phone.
Me: Tell me a secret, Pix.
Pix: Earlier you didn’t ask me what I want. But I want everything you want.
Me: That’s good to hear.
Pix: And I want to get on my knees for you and suck you until you see stars.
Well, then.
Me: I accept your counteroffer.
Pix: You’re such a dork. But I love it.
Me: Sweet dreams.
Pix: Wait. You owe me one.
Me: One what?
Pix: A secret.
I think for a moment, contemplating how much to reveal.
Me: I’ve never taken a woman to my house on the lake.
Pix: Really?
Me: It’s not a bachelor pad. It’s the place where I’m home.
Pix: Are you afraid to take me?
Me: Not afraid. Nervous maybe.
Pix: Why?
Me: Because I want you to be at home there too.
She doesn’t say anything further. But there’s nothing more to say either.
In the middle of the night, I grab my phone as has become a habit. There’s one message.
Pix: Thank you for allowing me to see the real Layton Ranger.
Right. The woman sees through me as if I were crystal. I might as well be an open book. She sees every secret, every fault, every dark corner, and acts like I’m still the most fascinating man she’s ever met.
By the time I get going in the morning, Livy is on the sofa in the living room, leg propped with an ice pack, a cup of tea in her hand. She lifts the mug and smiles. “Good morning. My tea is delicious. Thank you.”
Kyle leaves his position at Pop’s feet and comes to greet me before engaging my perpetual shadow, Luna, in play.
“You’re welcome. Morning, Pop.” I tap Pop on his shoulder and trail a hand along the back of the sofa on the way to the kitchen.
Steaming hot mug in hand, I lift Livy’s leg, sit in her spot, and reposition her knee on my lap. I rest my hand on her ankle, letting my thumb rub back and forth against the skin there.
“How’s your leg?”
“Sore. I’m probably doing too much on it, but—” Her phone buzzes, interrupting her thought.
She turns the screen to me. It’s a Florida number but not programmed in.
“Hello?” She pauses, “Yes, this is Dr. Morgan.”
Pop’s eyes go wide behind her. “Doctor?” he mouths.
I nod.
“Okay… Oh… I see. I’m afraid I won’t be able to help in that aspect. I never saw his face.” More silence as she stares down into her tea. “Of course. Anything you need. I’m sorry, Detective. Will you repeat your name for me?” There’s another gap in the conversation. “I appreciate your calling.”
She stares down at her phone, the call already over.
“That was the police. A body washed up on the beach. Cuts on his arms, bruising on his face, and a slice to the shell of his right ear.”
I squeeze her leg. “Did they ID the man?”
“He had a wallet on him. Driver’s license was from Virginia. Nothing to indicate he’d been in the area longer than a few months.”
“They think it was random?” My voice is incredulous. After everything she’s been through and I have, too, it’s so improbable.
“Right now, they do.”
“Mind cluing me in here?” Pop asks, leaning forward in his chair. “Are we talking about the man who did this to you and Kyle?”
Livy nods, twisting to face my dad. “They have an ID, but no case. There’s nothing to go on and no one to prosecute.”
“I don’t like it,” Pop says matter-of-factly.
“Me either.”
“Well, that makes three of us,” Livy says, taking a sip of her tea. “And not a darn thing any of us can do about it.”
Me: If I give you a name, can you dig into some background?
Exton: Happy to.
I send my brother the name. This may not be his exact area of expertise, but he has skills.
“Exton’s digging into him and doing his thing.”
Livy’s face twists in confusion. “Why?”
“To pull the threads we can’t.”
“I guess I’m asking what Exton does that he can pull threads.”
It’s Pop who replies. “His last career was military interrogation and counter-interrogation. He specializes in body language consulting and is fluent in several languages. He started his own consulting firm at the beginning of the year after leaving the FBI.”
Livy’s mouth hangs open, and just because it’ll make me smile, I use a finger to lift her jaw to close it.
Comical.
“Exton has that effect on people,” I add dryly.
“Is anyone in this family average?” Livy pops off.
“Just me,” Pop says, pushing up from his chair.
“Hardly,” I say into my mug, and I see Pop’s eyes crease at the corners.
After he’s gone, I rub my palm up Livy’s leg to the knee, careful to avoid the bandaged section. “What’s your gut say about the intruder?”
She releases a deep sigh. “My gut? It’s over. My head? It’s too coincidental with all the other stuff going on in our lives.”
I nod. “Do you want me to ask Elias to see what he can do?”
“In what capacity?”
“You could sue the estate.”
She shakes her head adamantly. “No. I can’t identify him, for one. Second, he has a family. Whoever they are, they lost someone and the last thing I want is this time to be more contentious with a lawsuit. Besides, I don’t want his money.”
“What if he’s a millionaire?”
“Millionaires don’t float up on the beach with a driver’s license in their pockets.”
She’s right about that. Millionaires typically aren’t random intruders. “I wonder if he was high.”
“Maybe. But if he’s dead, he’s dead to me too. Aside from this scar—” She looks to Kyle who lies on his back with his front paws over his head and his back legs extended. “And that one… he doesn’t exist.”
I lean over, feeling the pull in my lower back. “Small, mighty, and brave.” I kiss her chastely and rub a hand over the apple of her cheek.
She smiles under my lips. “Seeing me through your eyes is a gift.”
“Happy to give it to you, Pix.”
“I don’t know if you’re up for it, but I’d like to get you in the pool today. Can we go to your house?”
Internally, I cringe, but I school my face to look as calm as I can fake. “Let me see if I can get us a ride. And I need to check on this.” I tap her leg. “We’ve got to protect this wound. I’m guessing submersion isn’t the best thing for it?”
“Probably not. Think we can protect it well enough?”
Me: If a client had to go into salt water after a tattoo, how well would your goop and wrap work to protect it?
Willa: I wouldn’t recommend it, but if it were me and I had a chance to go to the beach, I think a good layer of ointment and Saran wrap with medical grade tape might protect as much as anything.
Willa: Are you going to the beach? It’s hot as hell, and I can’t take any more heat, but I’d kill to hear the waves.
Willa: Did you get a tattoo? Hello! Did someone else give you a tattoo? Don’t make me cry. You know I’m already on the verge.
Willa: Not that I can do anything about it at this point, but damn, I’m a little hurt.
Well, that escalated quickly.
“What’s the smile playing across your face?”
“Willa. She’s decided she needs a beach trip, but it’s too hot, and that if I got a tat that she didn’t give me, she will cry.”
“Willa? Exton’s wife will cry if you got a tattoo? What the heck did you text to her?”
“I asked her how she’d protect a tattoo if she had to go into salt water. She gave me a good idea.”
“Is the idea tattoos?”
I stare at her, wondering if I’d want her perfect skin marred. Then I wonder what she’d look like with a watercolor sleeve or something more discreet. Maybe something private that only I could see.
“Earth to Layton. You went somewhere far away.”
I snap back.
“Not today.”
Me: Are you and Exton up for a trip to the lake? Livy wants to get in the pool, and I need to get out of the house.
Willa: Exton’s with a client, but I’m game for a road trip.
Me: Are you good to drive?
Willa: Sure. I’ll be at Pop’s in an hour. That work?
Me: Perfect.
An hour later, Kyle has gotten his anti-inflammatories and pain meds, as has Livy. I’ve managed to get my painkiller as well, dumping the contents of my pockets into the nightstand drawer but making sure I’ve had a whole tablet before this adventure.
We sit on the sofa and are almost to the door when Willa rushes in. “Geez, I have to pee. Sorry. Oh my gosh, you’re so cute. Shit. Be right back.” I’d swear it was all one word as she flies past us, leaving us in her wake, her nearly black hair flying out behind her as she dashes down the hall.
“Livy, Willa. Willa, Livy,” I say dryly with Willa nowhere in sight.
“I’m so sorry. This boy—I’d swear he’s found my bladder and has decided to play bongos on it. All. Day. Long. Hi, I’m Willa.” My sister-in-law makes a beeline for Livy, wrapping her in a hug. “Sorry for the odd first impression. Kimpton is… well, he may be as much trouble as his namesake.”
“You’re naming him after Pop?”
“Yeah.” The smile on her face is soft and sweet. “He’s been so good to me, to us.”
“No one will ever compete with you now.”
“That’s right.” She turns to address Livy. “It’s so nice to meet you. I feel super tall next to you.”
“I’d say I feel super short next to you, but I’ve been this height for a while, and I’m kind of used to it.”
Willa’s smile breaks across her face. “Fair enough.”
“You’re a tattoo artist?” Livy asks as we walk out of the house and to the SUV.
“Was it the dragon’s head that gave it away?” She twists her left arm toward our group.
“That and Layton mentioning your line of work.”
“I was. I am. Getting established after our move was easier said than done.” She puts the car in drive and begins the trek toward my house.