Chapter 13 #2
“Do you want some help?” She offered, her wary expression reminding me of her mishap with the exploding egg.
“Let’s leave the cooking lesson for another night, darlin’. You sit and tell me about your day. Did you hear anything from Beau, or Your Soulmate?”
“No, thankfully. I checked my email account just before you arrived, and I’ll check again later this evening.”
I nodded an acknowledgement as I opened a few cupboards, trying to remember where I’d seen the cutting board this morning.
Finding it on the third try, I turned my attention to dicing the potatoes, then tossing them in a coat of olive oil, topped with a generous sprinkle from the jar of all-purpose seasoning I’d ordered.
I would have preferred to use fresh herbs, but the dried stuff would do in a pinch.
As I worked, I told her about my conversation with Bull.
“So he couldn’t verify who’s sending the emails?”
She dropped her head and her shoulders slumped. I hated to see her looking so dejected.
“Not yet, but he’s still working on it,” I assured her, spreading the potatoes in an even layer on a parchment-lined baking sheet, then popping them into the oven.
“Dustin’s background didn’t raise any red flags, but we learned that Beau studied computer programming for a couple of years in college.
Did he spend a lot of time on the computer, or have a bunch of tech equipment at home?
” She looked at me questioningly. “We’re trying to figure out if he would have the ability to cover his tracks this damned well,” I explained.
“He had a laptop that he used once in a while, but he mostly used his phone for everything. That thing was practically glued to his hand. The only electronics he had other than that were his gaming systems. He was big into gaming online on his off days.” She shrugged, then watched as I got out the ingredients for the salmon and asparagus.
“He is pretty tech savvy. He was the guy everyone always went to for help if their phones or computers were acting up, but I have no idea if he’d know how to do anything like that with the emails. ”
I filed that information away to share later with Bull just in case he could hack into the gaming systems to find anything there.
Elvis wandered into the kitchen, and Lauren filled his food and water bowls, then cleaned up behind me while I prepared the rest of the meal. She asked about my day, and I told her about the training sessions I’d had. The conversation turned to gyms, and fitness in general.
“I started going to kick-boxing classes a few months before I broke up with Beau, but I haven’t done it since I moved back here,” she confessed as she got out plates and silverware for us.
My mind was instantly captivated by a vision of Lauren in tight workout gear, using those long legs and thick thighs to deliver a powerful roundhouse kick.
“You should stop by the gym sometime,” I said, removing the potatoes from the oven and setting the baking sheet down on a trivet next to the rest of the food on the countertop.
“We do mostly individual MMA training there, so we don’t have any group classes, but you’re welcome to use the equipment.
I’d be happy to join you…I’d enjoy giving you a good workout,” I told her suggestively, flashing her a wicked grin.
As expected, she rolled her eyes at me, but there was a look of amusement on her face this time, rather than the annoyed expression she usually had when I flirted with her.
“Maybe I’ll do that,” she agreed throatily, then started casually filling her plate. “I could use a good…hard…workout.”
I had started filling my own plate, and the playful, almost seductive tone she used caused a visceral reaction.
My cock twitched as every nerve ending in my body went on alert and my brain went off-line for a second, only to come back on with a vengeance when the plate started to slip out of my hands.
I was able to recover without dropping the plate completely, although one of the pieces of roasted potato slid off and landed on the floor.
The redheaded temptress had the nerve to chuckle, knowing damned good and well that she’d been the cause of my sudden clumsiness.
“Careful, now,” she cautioned, “this food looks entirely too delicious to waste.”
I eyed her, trying to decide if she’d actually been flirting with me, or if my dirty mind had put its own spin on her good, hard, workout comment.
She added some asparagus to her plate, seemingly unaware of my perusal.
My gaze dropped to the gentle sway of her ass as she turned and made her way to the table.
My mouth watered, and not just from the smell of the food.
“This is sooo good,” she moaned a few minutes later, and I had to reach under the table to adjust my cock, while she sat across the table completely oblivious to the effect that particular sound had on me. Or at least I thought she was oblivious. I was still trying to figure it out.
“You made it look so easy,” she marveled, taking another bite of her salmon, “but I probably would have chopped a finger off, or caught the stove on fire.”
I chuckled, and we finished the rest of the meal in relative silence.
She insisted on washing the rest of the dishes afterward, so I excused myself to step outside to call Bull. I was hoping he’d made some progress with the emails, but he still hadn’t had any luck. I could tell from the tone of his voice that he was just as frustrated by that shit as I was.
“I’d like to be able to monitor her email directly, so that I can trace it immediately if he sends anything else. Can you ask Lauren to give me access? I could hack into her account, but I’d rather not do that unless I have to.”
“I’ll ask, man. I hope she’ll agree to it, because she’ll be pissed as hell if we have to go behind her back. I’ll let you know.”
I ended the call, then took a deep breath and stepped back inside, finding Lauren sitting on the couch with her Kindle.
“Did he find anything?” She set the Kindle on the coffee table as I sat down next to her.
“Not yet. He does have an idea that might help, but it would involve you giving him access to your email account.”
Lauren look conflicted, and I rushed to assure her that Bull could be trusted not to snoop through her personal shit.
“It’s not that,” she replied. “It just seems like a waste of his time. Beau is a pain in the ass, and he may have lashed out and said something that could be taken as a threat, but I can’t honestly see him hurting me.”
“He was never violent? Never threatened you before?” My fists were clenched as I waited for her answer, and God help that bastard if her answer was ‘yes’.”
“No, never. He was a cheating asshole, but I never felt unsafe.” I looked at her closely, trying to judge if she was being completely honest with me – and with herself.
I understood better than most that abused women sometimes downplayed the situation because it’s so hard to admit the truth that the person you loved and trusted is actually hurting you.
She reached out and placed her hand over my fist, gently squeezing it.
“Truly, he never – not even when he was angry or jealous – never became physical or lashed out at me in any way.”
I took a deep breath and rolled my shoulders to relieve the tension. I relaxed my fists and turned my palm up so that I was essentially holding Lauren’s hand. Her skin was soft, her fingers long and delicate, with dark red polish on her fingernails.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d held a woman’s hand. Back in high school? Middle school, even? I forced my attention away from how good her hand felt in mine, and focused on her ex.
“In the last two emails, he mentioned that you were making him jealous. Was he always the jealous type?”
She sighed as she shifted on the couch, and I wondered if she was even aware that she had scooted a little closer to me.
“Sometimes. It started getting worse after we were engaged and bought the condo together. He started questioning where I was going, or who I’d be with, how long I’d be gone…
that kind of thing. I didn’t think much of it at first, I just thought he was being overprotective or something.
Then one day he accused me of flirting with our new neighbor.
I’d barely talked to the man, and certainly hadn’t flirted,” she huffed angrily.
“We talked it out, and he apologized. A few weeks later, I was really late getting home from the studio due to some issues with the sound equipment. I hadn’t bothered calling Beau to let him know I’d be late since he had plans and was going to be home late himself.
” She stopped and sighed heavily. “As soon as I walked through the door, he accused me of cheating on him. I thought he was joking at first, because it was so ridiculous. Then, I realized he was serious. I spent the rest of the night defending myself and reassuring him that I would never do that to him.”
I squeezed her hand, trying to offer comfort while at the same time plotting all the ways I was going to fuck up her ex.
“You know, I went to a therapist for about six weeks after the break-up. She said that many times, cheaters exhibit jealousy and accuse their innocent partners of cheating because it’s a reflection of their own guilty behavior, or they’re trying to divert their partner’s attention.
If you’re busy defending yourself against baseless accusations, you won’t have the time or the energy to question the cheater’s actions. ”
“That’s a real mindfuck,” I observed, causing Lauren to snort, and then chuckle.
“So, I don’t know if he was ever really jealous, or if it was just a way to gaslight me,” she added bitterly. “I have no idea how I ever fell in love with a jagoff like that.”
“Jagoff? That’s a new one on me.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “It means jerk, or jackass. It’s a Pittsburgh thing, kind of like yinz.”
She’d lost me on that one. “What the fuck is a yinz?”
That caused her to laugh outright. “It’s Pittsburghese, short for ‘you all’. In the south, they say y’all. In the ‘Burgh, it’s yinz.”
“I didn’t realize Pittsburgh had its own language,” I chuckled.
“Oh, you have no idea,” she assured me. I didn’t have any plans to visit Pittsburgh unless it was to kick Beau’s ass, so I’d have to take her word for it.
“Jagoff, huh?” I laughed again as something occurred to me. “I can’t wait to tell Jagger he has a new nickname.”
She giggled, lightly smacking me on the arm.