Chapter 3 MINKA #2
“Or…” I inch back. “You could consider medication to help with that anxiety, while I remind you that I survived nearly three decades before I met you. I know how to wield a blade, kill a man, remove his chest block, and destroy the evidence, so not even you and your detective buddies could figure me out.”
His lips flatten into firm lines. “And yet, your words fail to bring me comfort. You thought that would convince me you’ve got a handle on this shit when, in reality, you’ve only reminded me of the thing that scares the hell out of me. I feel worse, Chief. Not better.”
“You’re gonna be okay.” I take his hand and push away from the counter, and though I could use either of the two doors leading out of here, I choose the one we entered through, tugging it open and revealing a broad, black-suited back.
When the towering guard remains unmoved, I clear my throat. “If you don’t mind…”
He stalks two feet to the left in silence, but he glances right and meets my eyes. He nods, short, sharp, respectful, then he looks to Archer and does the same. “Mr. Malone.”
“We’re headed back inside now. Thanks for looking out.”
“There you are!” Doctor Raquel’s voice reverberates from the end of the long hallway, her platinum blonde hair like a siren in the dark-carpeted and dark-walled space.
With bright blue eyes, shiny red lips, a gown of the same fire engine red, and high heels that lend her an extra three or four inches, she grabs another woman’s hand and drags the poor soul in this direction.
“I’ve been looking for you since the friggin’ ceremony, Chief. ”
My boobs are tucked away, right? My dress is on straight? Panicked, I study myself and make damn sure my staff won’t see me sexed up and dressed down. I brush my free hand over the front of my gown, smoothing what is already smooth, then I glance up again and nervously tuck my hair behind my ear.
Did Archer mess it up?
Shit, do I look like I just had an orgasm?
“Detective Malone.” Raquel’s perfume reaches us just a half-second before the woman herself.
She doesn’t normally smell of lavender and something else…
vanilla, maybe. Which implies she went all out to eradicate the stench of dead people for her weekend with two-plus-ones at a black-tie event.
“I wish I could say I’m surprised by your tenacious ability to remain hidden at a social event, Chief Mayet.
But I’m not, which means I’ve spent half a day chasing after you in heels that hurt my toes and a dress that pinches my left boob. ”
Naturally, my eyes shift to the offending appendage.
“I was worried you’d left. It’s entirely in character for you to sneak out a side door and change into yoga pants while everyone else is busy here.”
“Shucks, Doctor Raquel. You know me so well.” I fake a smile and study our fourth, partially hidden behind Raquel’s five feet seven inches. “Eliza, right?”
“Ah…” Archer coughs. “Chief—”
“Taylor.” Raquel drags her friend forward. “Taylor, meet my boss, Chief Mayet. Minka.”
“So happy to finally meet you.” Taylor thrusts her hand forward and reveals glittering red nails and delicate tattooed vines snaking along her wrist. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Chief. Raquel speaks highly of you.”
I blink once. Twice. Three times. And with every shift of my eyelids, I catalog something new about the woman in front of me. Black dress. Silver shoes. Mahogany hair, a similar shade to mine.
“Shake her hand, Minka.” Archer nudges me forward. “You’re being rude.”
I swing my eyes back to Raquel’s. “Eliza?”
“No. Taylor. Like I said.”
“Your sister’s name is Taylor?” I tilt my head to the side and study Taylor’s wide hips. Her rounded chest. Her perfect hourglass shape, much like Aubree’s, but this chick has a little more meat on her bones compared to the bride. “You told me it was Eliza.”
“My sister’s name is Eliza. Eliza is my sister. This is Taylor.”
“You’re fumbling the ball, Chief.” Archer chokes on a silent laugh. “Catch up.”
“You have two friends named Taylor?” I take the woman’s hand in mine. “I’m bad with names. I call my own sister-in-law Debbie.”
Taylor’s eyes flicker with curiosity. “Her name is not Debbie?”
“No. Her name is Christabelle.” I look past the pair, searching. “Where’s the other Taylor?”
“There is no other Taylor.” Raquel pulls the black-gowned woman closer, twining their fingers together. “This is the only Taylor in my life.”
“You’re embarrassing yourself, Minnnka.” Archer drapes his arm over my shoulders. “Try again.”
“I don’t…” I look from one woman to the other. From blinding, bright blue eyes, to a pair verging toward gold. “You said you were bringing Taylor to the wedding.”
“She brought Taylor to the wedding,” Taylor snickers. “I’m Taylor.”
“But you’re a woman.” I swing my gaze up to Archer. “She’s a woman.”
His cheeks blaze with the laughter he keeps trapped in the depths of his chest. “Astute observation. You’ve got the dots, babe. Now connect them.”
It’s like lightning bolts slamming into my chest, a ferocious gasp bursting along my throat as realization hits me. Then I look at the pair again. “Oh! You’re Taylor!”
“There it is,” Archer chuckles. “Proud of you, Chief.”
“Taylor’s a woman! You’re Taylor, and Taylor’s a woman.” I shake her hand, like the intensity of my grip could somehow fix the foot lodged deep in my mouth. “I assumed Taylor was a man, but I don’t… I didn’t…” My eyes flare wide. “I’m not homophobic or anything! I swear.”
“She’s not,” Archer snickers. “Just socially inept.”
“Eli is a dude, and he’s into dudes! I went to their wedding a few months back, so it’s not like I don’t like dudes who like dudes or chicks who like chicks.”
“You can stop now—”
“Just caught me by surprise, is all.” Warmth floods my cheeks, mercilessly humiliating me. “You’re a woman!”
Taylor’s eyes dance with humor. “I am. And I suppose this is the first time you’ve been made aware that Raquel dates women.”
“You’re a very pretty woman.” Shut up, shut up, shut up! “Aesthetically speaking, your bone structure implies strong, almost Nordic beginnings. Your face is symmetrical. Traditionally, that’s a sign of beauty. And your eyes are lovely. Your family bred well a hundred years ago. It’s not that I—”
“You can stop now.” Archer wraps his arm around and claps his hand over my lips. “Shhhhh.”
Oh, thank God.
“She gets nervous meeting new people.” He extends his free hand and takes Taylor’s. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard wonderful things.”
“Mmmhm.” A soft blush works along her chest. “Nice to meet you, too, Detective.”
“I didn’t know,” I mumble behind Archer’s hand. His intrusive palm makes my words garble together until they sound like ‘I-ddn-knw’.
“She has gay friends,” Archer adds. “She’s totally fine with it.”
“Feel like I was set up.” ‘Fel-li-wuz-sedup.’ I hit Doctor Raquel with a fiery glare, and, grabbing on to Archer’s hand, I drag it down until my mouth is free.
“You purposely didn’t say he or she this whole time.
You knew I assumed she was a dude. In fact, you didn’t correct me when I called her a he. You’re testing me.”
“Having a little fun, mostly.” She flashes a taunting smile and presses a kiss to Taylor’s knuckles. “Knew you’d fumble it, no matter who I introduced you to. Even warned her you’d make a dick of yourself.”
“She did,” Taylor agrees playfully. “She made me promise not to be offended. Something about a pure heart, but a brain that struggles to adapt to the unexpected.”
“You’re an asshole.” I glare at Raquel. “You think I’m not already stressed enough?! I have stitches in my knee, an old man healing from a heart attack, a husband who thinks he’s a know-it-all, and a brother-in-law who has been staring at my tits all night.”
“Aesthetically…” Taylor looks straight down at my rack. “I mean…”
Archer guffaws.
“Oh, good, she bagged a smartass. You insist on testing me, Doctor Douchebag. But it’s fine.
You have your fun.” I meet Taylor’s dancing eyes and pray my boobs stay on their shelf where they belong.
“It was nice to meet you. Good luck with…” I gesture Raquel’s way.
“That.” Then I snag Archer’s hand and drag him around the pair. “Let’s go.”
“Love you, too, Chief.” Raquel spins with a laugh. “You did better than I expected.”
“She’s awfully smug for a woman who’s set to receive six months of backlog files on her desk first thing Monday morning.”
“You’re mad because she caught you off guard.
” He drapes his arm over my shoulders, holding my hand until we become a tangled puzzle, and approaching the wedding reception doors, we slow for the guards to swing them open and for the music inside to hit us like a wall. “You recovered quickly. Bravo.”
“Shut up.” I would toss his hand and storm away if I had even an iota of desire to leave his side, but since I don’t, I lean into him instead and silently wish the band could read minds and show me pity. Turn the music down. Please. “Did you know she was into chicks?”
“Before five minutes ago?” He walks me all the way to the dance floor, though I had absolutely no intention of coming here, then he releases me, turns me, and slowly drags me back.
So smooth. So easy, despite our lack of practice.
“No. Can’t say I’ve ever given it much thought.
I suppose I assumed she was dating a man, too, since you’ve mentioned him in the past. But with the handholding and whatnot, I figured her out relatively quickly. Quicker than you.”
“She set me up, knowing my brain would short-circuit.” I catch sight of Eliza—the real Eliza, with blonde hair and blue eyes matching her sister’s—crossing the dance floor about ten feet from where we stand.
But then Cato follows, a wide grin plastered across his face, and a fast stride that promises he’s going wherever she goes. He lopes forward and snags her hand.
I brace myself for the inevitable explosion, gritting my jaw when she balls her free hand. Then I gasp when she swings…
And he ducks, fast as a viper and more arrogant than he has any right to be. He yanks her in and slams her against his chest.
“He has no respect for how close he comes to death every single day.” I shake my head and ignore the power struggle between the two athletes.
Eliza’s snarling, snapping teeth, and Cato’s goofy smirk.
His lips move, some smartass quip no doubt pissing her off more.
But I can’t hear him over the live band, and as I step closer and rest my ear on Archer’s chest, I realize I don’t really care. “This feels nice.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” He sets his chin on the top of my head, his warm breath bathing my scalp. “Big day, huh?”
“Started before the sun even came up. Hair and makeup.”
“Torture, really.”
He mocks me. But I have no energy left to fight with, so I snuggle in close and allow him to hold my weight. “I hear you, Detective. You’re lucky I’m too tired to hurt you.”
“Mmhm.” His heart pounds a steady, powerful rhythm in my ear. “Your dress looks fantastic, by the way. And your hair. And you’re not working tomorrow, so once we’re done here, we can go back to the house and stay in bed for as long as we want.”
“Unless—”
“No unless. We’re not on call. And I’ve been drinking, which means I can’t work even if the city started falling apart at the seams.”
“I haven’t been drinking. I could work.”
“I’ll spritz vodka in your mouth if I have to.
” He sets his hand beneath my chin and prompts my gaze up to his.
“I’ll do whatever I have to do to get you into our bed tonight, and I won’t let you out until you’ve rested an appropriate number of hours.
” His eyes flicker with challenge. “You’re off from now until nine o’clock Monday morning. No exceptions.”
“Your brothers are staying at the house tonight.” I drape my arms over his shoulders, linking my hands together at the nape of his neck. “Felix and Christabelle. And the baby.”
“Naturally. Can’t leave an infant in the car overnight.”
“And Micah, too. And Tiia. And she brought her brother, right?”
So serious. So unbothered. He drops his chin. “That makes six.”
“And Mary will be there. And Steve.” Fresh panic sizzles in my veins as I remember the sickly old man I abandoned for our tryst in the kitchen. “Steve—”
“Left already. With Mary. He’s in good hands, Minnnka.
” He pinches my chin between his thumb and finger, drawing me closer and feathering his lips over mine.
“He’s fine, and you’ll have him under the same roof as you from now until he’s recovered.
” Another kiss. “Better yet, he has round-the-clock care, which means you don’t have to worry.
Ever. Even when Mary has to pee, Steve will be covered. ”
“Seems you’ve been making arrangements while I had my back turned.”
“It’s what I do.” He nibbles along my bottom lip. Tasting. Biting. “Just needed you to agree to the plans I put in place. Which,” he adds. “You have.”
“Arrogant.”
“Forward thinking. Any other concerns I can help you with?”
I release a pouty exhale and decide, no, I don’t have anything to complain about right this second. “Since we’re staying at the house, and our bedroom is technically self-contained with a bathroom and mini-kitchen and all that jazz, can we just—”
“Lock ourselves in and wait the Malones out?” He slides the pad of his thumb along the line of my jaw, studying me with adoring contemplation. “We’ll take it hour by hour. It’s possible we may want to venture out by noon.”
“Noon, December twenty-third, two-thousand thirty-two?” One song ends, and another begins. Same beat, same tempo, similar love-centered lyrics. “You underestimate my ability to stay cooped up in one space without having to interact with other human beings.”
Sophia slams into my side, knocking the oxygen from my lungs and scaring my pulse into a thousand beats a minute.
“Sophia! What the hell—”
“Tell me, Chief! Who wants me dead?”