Chapter 38
Loch
“I’m not into role-play, but damn, get that fine ass over here.”
Tuesday bends to adjust her riding boots. When she stands, she runs her hands over her hips. The tease. “Not bad if I do say so myself.”
Fuck me.
I’m hard, and she’s leaving. Not fair. “Not bad at all. Sure you won’t stay? I have something much more fun to ride.” She bursts out laughing. My ego isn’t weak. I rub over my dick, and say, “There’s nothing funny about this hard-on, baby.”
With the doors on the antique wardrobe open, she says, “Who knew I was into riding?” referencing the equestrian outfits hanging neatly inside.
“Are you sure you know how to ride horses?”
“Why would I have all these clothes if I didn’t?” She turns to check out her fine ass in the mirror. “I look cute.”
“You look more than cute, Tues.” I tuck my hands behind my head and watch as she pulls her low ponytail tight before putting on her helmet. “At least your head is protected.”
“I could have used this when I was mugged.”
“Speaking of . . .” Looking at me in the reflection of the mirror over the dresser, she says, “I hate to even bring it up, but any news from the investigator?”
“No. Have you checked in with the detective lately?”
She comes to me and sits on the edge of the bed. “I haven’t. The past few days have been a whirlwind.” Looking toward the window where the sunrise has just broken above the sill, she adds, “I feel discouraged after talking to them, so I’ve been putting it off, but I should probably call today.”
“Maybe the investigator will dig up something new again soon. He only has the one case while the police are backlogged.”
I sit up, grab her, and fall with her in my arms. Kissing her through her squeals of laughter, I realize if I ever had a weakness, she’s it. I tap her nose, and say, “Don’t get discouraged. We’re making progress. That’s what counts.”
“True.” Her blue eyes are happy, and even in the dimmer, overcast morning, they’re bright for me. “Did you mess up my hair?”
I study her, all of her, and then smirk. “Maybe.”
Smacking me on the chest, she pushes off. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I’ve already made you a good offer for what you can do with me, but if you want to negotiate, I’m open to a counter.”
She giggles and returns to the mirror again to adjust her outfit and helmet. “How about this? We’ll skip lunch, and I’ll let you eat me instead?”
“So fucking naughty.” I rub my thumb over my bottom lip, approving of the direction of this negotiation. “It’s an attractive proposition. Very attractive indeed,” I say, eyeing her tight little body. “But what’s in it for me?”
Coming over, she leans down. I think she’s going in for a kiss, but she detours to my ear, and whispers, “I promise to make it worth your while.”
I grab her, about to pull her onto the mattress, but she’s just fixed her hair again. Chuckling, I kiss her and then say, “Deal.”
“I knew we could come together on this.”
“So fucking dirty.”
She kisses my cheek and then takes the lobe of my ear between her teeth and nipping. Whispering again, she says, “You like it that way.”
“You’re not helping this erection. In fact, you’re making it harder than ever to deal with.”
Innocence shapes her eyes and smile. “I’m sorry. Kind of . . .” She laughs. “I really will make it up to you.” Tapping me on the nose this time, she says, “I promise.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
“I hope so.” A shadow casts her eyes that held happiness not even a moment prior, and she says, “Can I talk to you about something that’s been on my mind?”
“Always.”
“Last night, Carter told me how Allison shared that I’d been in New York.”
“And that’s something you’ve shared with her?”
“Yes. I’ve told her almost everything, anything worth sharing.
I trusted her.” She sighs, looking down at her lap and fidgeting fingers.
When she looks at me again, she whispers, “I don’t know how to feel about her now.
Why would she tell him anything about me when she knows I don’t want him to know? ”
Dragging my fingers down her back, I rub her spine along the way. “I don’t know. Is it something you feel comfortable talking to her about?”
“I guess I’ll have to. It just . . . it sort of feels like a violation of the trust I thought we’d established.”
“I can understand that, but before you concern yourself even more, you should address the issue with her directly. Maybe it slipped out accidentally, or there was a misunderstanding.”
A small smile returns to her face, and she leans down to kiss me. “You’re right, counselor. Instead of overthinking this, I’ll just ask her about it.” Standing, she says, “I need to go. I’m ready to get this over with.” She crosses the room to leave. “I’ll see you later, babe.”
Just before she closes the door behind her, I call, “Hey?” I’m given that spectacular smile of hers that I’m used to as she leans on the door. “Always remember I love you.”
“I could never forget. My heart wouldn’t let me. I love you, Loch.”
It’s still early, barely seven, so when she closes the door, I roll to the side and close my eyes to try for more sleep.
“Morning.”
I set the coffee pot back on the warmer and turn to find Allison sitting at a table where the sun floods in.
As she sips from a mug, she reads the magazine open in front of her.
I reply, “Good morning.” Recalling the conversation with Tuesday earlier, I decide to get a better feel for her friend.
Best friend is what I’ve been told. I sit down but direct my gaze out the window. “Pretty day.”
“A little chilly but not too bad.” Her eyes stay directed through the French doors. “C tells me you’re an attorney.” She laughs to herself. “Tuesday. It’s going to be hard to make the change.”
“She wouldn’t be bothered. She understands it’s difficult for others.” I take a sip of coffee. “Especially when you’ve known her your whole life.”
“Most of it. The years that matter.” She closes the fashion magazine and says, “She speaks highly of you.” It’s not a question I need to address. “Do you mind me asking what your plan is?”
Plan? She wouldn’t be a friend if she didn’t look out for her. “I don’t have a plan. Like her, I’m taking the days as they come right now.”
“How do you imagine your future with her? Are you going to ask her to move to New York?”
Chuckling, I look at her. Her eyes with another thousand questions waiting to be asked and her hair like fire in the morning sunlight.
Her striking features don’t distract from the information she’s trying to extract.
“My place is hers, but Tuesday will do as she wants. She’ll decide where she wants to live, and I’ll support that. ”
“Even if it’s not with you in the city?”
I’d hate it. It would gut me five times over. “If it makes her happy.”
“She loves you very much. It’s good to see her this happy and in love.” She spins her mug around in her hands, the ceramic bottom grating against the mottled wood. “We’re going to a vineyard in the area for a wine tasting later. Would you like to come?”
Nothing suspicious is seen in her eyes. She seems quite genuine. “Unless you hate wine, of course,” she quickly adds.
“No, wine is fine—”
“And it rhymes.” She giggles, even snorting a little.
Her quirkiness is entertaining. “I’m in. Thanks for asking.”
“Of course. If C—if Tuesday loves you, that’s all I need to know. Her mom and dad are also going.”
Though I’m not sure if this is my place to ask, it might be a good time to get her take on talking to Carter about Tuesday being in the city. “I—”
“Where is she—”
A ring from my pocket cuts both of us off. I pull it out to see John - Private Eyes of New York flash on the screen. “I need to take this. I’ll be right back.” I answer as I walk outside into the cold for privacy. “What do you have for me, John?”
“Carter Bingham’s family cut off his finances two years ago,” he replies, all business. “It seems the Bingham boy developed an allergy to work, and his family decided he needed to make his own way.”
None of this surprises me. “Connect the dots.”
“Céline got him hired on with her family’s company, probably the biggest mistake they could have made.”
The cold seeps through my sweater, so I start to pace to warm up. “Why?”
“He has full access to the financials. He’s been busy moving money around to different accounts for the past two years. I’m assuming they’re oblivious to the twenty million in an offshore account in the Bahamas and the ten million collecting interest in Switzerland.”
“Fuck.” I drop my head, spreading my clenched brow apart. “He’s embezzling from her family?”
“To a level that’s shocking. They must trust him something good for him to get away with it for this long and no one notice. Or,” he says, “they’re so dirty rich that they don’t miss thirty million from their bank accounts. It’s some nice money.”
“Sure is.”
“You might want to sit down for the next part.”
Looking back into the kitchen, I find Allison at the table. Tuesday’s mom has joined her with a cup of coffee. They’re sharing something funny because the laughter slips through the cracks of the door. “I’m standing. Hit me with it anyway.”
“Guess who’s listed as her beneficiary.”
“Better not be Carter fucking Bingham.”
“Bingo,” he says. “Sole beneficiary of the entire Schroder fortune.”
I look out over the grove, wondering how far they rode this morning. “She would have never agreed to that. Not as Tuesday or Céline. No fucking way.”
“He could have forged the signature and paid someone to notarize it. It’s easy to get it done for the right price.” There’s a slight pause before he exhales. “I wouldn’t leave them alone, though. No telling what he’d do.”
Fuck. “I have to go.” I hang up as I rush back inside, startling the women. “Where would they ride?”
Sofie asks, “What are you talking about?”
“Riding horses.”
Allison balks. “Who are you talking about?”
My patience thins as the words rush from my throat. “Carter and Tuesday—Céline. Whatever. Where do they go riding when they ride horses on the property?”
Allison’s face drains of color, and she stands, the chair left skidding behind her against the rustic floor tiles. “What are you talking about, Loch? She wouldn’t go riding.”
Alarmed panic infiltrates Sofie’s eyes as her hands tremble, the teacup chiming against the small plate. “Not after the accident.”
“What accident?” I grip the wood backing of the chair.
Her mom says, “She fell off a horse a few years ago and broke her arm. She’s not been on or near one since.”
Allison rushes to me. “She’s terrified of them.” Tears flood her eyes as she rests the back of her wrist to her forehead. With her back to me, she paces across the room. When she turns back, her eyes are wide as if she’s seen a ghost. “He knows she doesn’t remember.”
We hurry through the door and start down the hall. “Are you sure you didn’t tell him?” I ask.
“No, why would you ask that? I would never tell him anything.”
“He lied. Fuck. I knew I should have tried to stop her.”
Sofie catches up to us. “Here are the keys to the G-Wagon. They’d ride to the lake. It’s not frozen solid yet.” She tosses the keys to me and starts to cry. “Go. Go. Go. I’ll call the police.”
I run like my life depends on it. Because it does.