Chapter 28

Emi

“I’m sleeping with Marcus,” Maren announces as casually as if she was telling me she’s going to the mall.

I’m so stunned, I choke mid-swallow, spewing water everywhere. “What?” I cough out.

“I’m. Sleeping. Wi—”

“I heard you, but when did this happen?”

“It happens a lot, but if you’re referring to when did it start, the night we brought Walker back to Charleston.”

“That was three weeks ago!”

“I know.” She sighs guiltily.

“Why are you just now telling me?”

“Because you hauled ass to the cabin, and every single night since then has been busy.”

“We talk every day.”

“I wasn’t sure I was ready to tell anyone, Ems. At first, I thought it was nothing.”

“And now?”

“Now, I think I’m in trouble.”

“Trouble how?”

“Trouble like I think he’s broken through my ‘sex is better than relationships’ motto.”

“When did you get that motto?”

“When I found my fiancé cheating on me and you started having sex.”

“Maren!”

“No, I’m serious. I didn’t say anything to you because you were so happy, and Walker is the real deal. But my plan was to have sex, not look for anything more for a while. Marcus has crushed that option. He told me this morning he was done with late night trysts and what he considers sneaking around. He’s invited me to happy hour tomorrow night with his work friends.”

“What you’re really saying is that you’re not only sleeping with him, you’re in a relationship with him. I think it’s wonderful he wants to introduce you to his friends.”

“No, it’s awful! He’s admitted these men know about Carlton.”

“So?”

“So, I don’t want to look like a hussy.”

“Hussy? Did you say hussy? You’ve been single for months, not dating and not sleeping around. You’re beautiful, brilliant, and one of the kindest people I know. Carlton is a world-class dick, and he treated you like shit. Don’t let him ruin the chance at something with Marcus.”

“That’s the thing. I let him change me. I finally feel like I’m living for me. Marcus has me in a tizzy.”

“Good tizzy or bad tizzy?”

“The best kind of tizzy. I find myself wanting to be with him, thinking about him when he’s not around. It’s maddening.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m scared it’s too soon. I recently ended a very committed relationship. Maybe I’m a leech.”

My hand flies in front of her face, the diamond sparkling. “Too soon!?! I fell in love on my first date. As for a committed relationship, I hate to remind you, but you were the only one committed.”

She pouts her lips, squints her eyes, and taps her fingers on the steering wheel, avoiding my glare.

“You’re right. I like him, and he seems to like me. I’m not going to let the ghost of my relationship with Carlton ruin this.”

“Awesome!” I fist pump in the air. “Maren’s got a boyfriend. Maren’s got a boyfriend,” I sing over and over until she’s giggling hysterically.

She drives into a parking space behind the dive bar on the outskirts of town and adjusts her wig, peering in the rearview mirror. I take out my compact and apply the hooker red lipstick that matches my hair for the night.

“In and out, a few pictures, and we’re done,” she explains again.

“I know. I’m your partner, remember? I’m read in.”

“Now, you’re even talking like Walker,” she teases.

“Sorry, he’s rubbing off on me. I’m pretty sure he’s probably on his way here.”

“Marcus, too. He’s not happy about us taking this case.”

“You told him?”

“I had no choice. He heard us talking last night and knew.”

“He was there last night?”

“I made us dinner.”

“Sounds pretty domestic.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” She gets a dreamy look on her face I know all too well.

“You’ve got it bad.” I repeat her words from the night she interrupted my first date with Walker.

She raises her eyebrows and gets out of the car.

Tonight’s Trixsters assignment is fairly simple. It’s also a little out of our normal cases. We’ve been asked by a mother to investigate her son’s new girlfriend. This mother, Ellen, is concerned her widowed son, Paul, is being scammed. It’s been six months since his wife passed away, and a few weeks ago, he mentioned meeting a woman named Della.

According to Ellen, the relationship seems to be moving lightning fast, especially for a middle-aged man who has money. Paul has mentioned moving Della into his home and building a life with her, which is concerning.

At first, Maren and I were skeptical to get involved because it seemed like a nosy mom being overly suspicious and a huge family nightmare. But Ellen sent an email that helped change our minds

Ellen said she did some digging, and Della is bad news. She’s convinced the woman is a gold digger and after her son’s money, and he’s falling for her out of loneliness. She described Paul as heart-broken. He was with his wife since high school. She was the love of his life.

Maren and I made no promises but requested a little more information on Della, so we could do our own search. We found that most of what she’s told Paul is a lie. She’s definitely a scam artist looking for a sugar daddy, and she’s smart about it.

When we saw the similarities to the Ricky Sharp case, we agreed to help Ellen. Della targets men and exploits their weakness. In the last three years, she’s broken up two marriages. A thorough scan of her email and bank accounts show she is spoiled by her men, but once their wives discovered the affair and filed for divorce, the money stopped.

Being the heartless home wrecker that she is, she broke things off immediately. We assume she decided married men were too much hassle, so she shifted her focus to widowers.

Unlike Ricky, she didn’t use dating sites to find her next victim. She did something worse; she started attending grief support meetings under the lie that she lost her mom. When Maren hacked into her IP address, she found daily searches on obituaries going back months. There was an entire search history on Paul, his company, his family, and his net worth.

Tonight, she is meeting some girlfriends for drinks at this little dive bar, and her email said she was looking to ‘get properly laid’.

All we need to do is hang out and hope she gives us the proof we need that she’s not the sweet, caring, grieving woman she’s led Paul to believe.

She and her friends are easy to spot once we’re inside. Della is clearly recognizable from the picture Ellen sent. Her blonde hair is sleek and shiny, falling midway down her back. The black dress molds to her body, and her enormous boobs are popping out. She’s a bombshell, and her friends are equally as gorgeous. These women are on the prowl, and from the looks of the men staring at them, they’ll have no problems.

Like always, Maren and I sit at the bar for the best view. Della and her friends throw back drink after drink, and when the band starts, they are the first ones to the dance floor.

One by one, men approach them and they pair off. For over an hour, they stay this way, only taking a break from dancing to come back to their table for a refill.

“I get the feeling she knows the man she’s dancing with,” Maren points out.

“Me too, there’s a level of familiarity and comfort there.” Right as I say it, the man grabs Della’s ass, grinding his hips furiously into her, and starts to kiss her.

Maren uses one of our new pen gadgets to snap pictures. The band takes a break, and everyone leaves the dance floor, Della and her man holding hands.

“We should order another drink. Things look like they’re about to get interesting.” I turn back to the bar.

“Drinks are on me.” The unmistakable husky voice comes from behind me. Goosebumps break out on my arms as I whip around to find Walker and Marcus.

“You’re here,” I stupidly point out.

“I got sick of waiting for you to come home.” He runs a finger through my hair and scowls. “You look beautiful as a redhead, but it’s not nearly as silky as your real hair.”

Marcus steps in closer to Maren and whispers something in her ear that makes her blush. Walker seems unfazed by the action.

“Did you know about these two?” I wave my finger between them.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s none of my business.”

“Our best friends are dating, and it’s none of our business?”

“Emi.”

“Kelly,” I correct him. “I’m Kelly, and she’s Donna.”

“Where did you come up with those names?”

“90210.”

“For God’s sake.”

“Lower your voice.”

“We have movement.” Maren nudges my knee.

I peep past Walker and see Della and the guy disappearing down a hallway.

“I’ll check it out.” I scoot off the bar stool and get my purse.

“Where are you going?”

“To the ladies’ room, and while I’m at it, I’ll see what’s down that hallway.”

“You’re not going alone.”

“Sweetie, it would look very odd for you to go to the bathroom with me. I’ll be back in a jiffy. Have a seat and pretend you two guys are trying to pick us up.”

“Good luck with that. Remember, there’s a rock on your finger.” Maren wiggles her ring finger.

“Hey, aren’t you that detective that was on TV?” A man walking by stops, asking his question to Walker.

“He sure was!” I chirp and slide by him, discreetly pinching his butt.

I hurry out of his reach and down the hallway. There are several doors, but I don’t have to search for long before a purring moan comes from behind one of them.

Well, shit, how am I supposed to get pictures?

“You like that, Della? You like my fingers in your pussy? Ride my hand, baby, ride it hard,” the man demands. “That’s it, clench harder.”

“Stop fucking around, Damon, and get me off.”

“Oh, I’m gonna get you off, then I’m taking you home and fucking you until you admit this pussy belongs to me.”

“Yes,” she groans.

“You’re gonna take my dick all night long, you hear me?”

“Yes,” she whimpers this time.

“I should fuck you right here just to take the edge off.”

“Make me come, Damon… so, so close.”

Whatever he does must work because she screams in pleasure. There’s a squeaky giggle behind me as people approach, so I dash across the hall and slip into the bathroom. I lock myself in a stall and hear the women enter, still laughing. They use the restroom and are washing their hands when Della comes in.

“Feel better?” one of them asks her.

I take out my phone and record their conversation. Maybe, if I can’t get pictures, I can get something.

“A little, but he’s getting smarter. He got me to agree to go home with him,” Della admits.

“You’re such a whore. Why you don’t give in to him is beyond me.”

“Damon could never afford me. He’s a great fuck, one of the best, but that’s it. He knows the score. I let him have his way with me, which gives me enough orgasms to go back to Paul tomorrow.”

“What are you going to tell Paul about not coming home tonight?”

“I’m going to use one of you as an excuse. Then I’ll give him a few blowjobs so he won’t suspect a thing. I swear, guys are so easy. Wrap your lips around their dicks and they’re easily distracted.”

“It’s kinda sad. Damon’s totally in love with you, and Paul’s clueless.”

“And he’s going to stay that way. Damon will always be my boy toy on the side, but Paul’s got the money.”

“Speaking of boy toys and dicks, did you see who walked in? That detective that was on TV, the one involved in the drug raid. He’s hot. I’m going to introduce myself.”

At her words, jealousy rolls in the pit of my stomach. I peer through the crack in the door and see a brunette fluffing her hair.

Bitch!

“Oh, yeah, his friend is hot, too. Let’s go for it,” the other one says.

They leave the restroom, chatting about Walker and Marcus, and I turn off the recorder on my phone and get out of the stall. After a minute, I go back into the bar and see they wasted no time sidling up to the guys.

If looks could kill, Maren’s glare would have bodies scattered on the floor. She and Walker glance at me at the same time, and I slice my eyes to the exit, changing direction and heading that way. I know myself, and if I walk up to that crew, there’s a chance I ruin being anonymous.

“What happened?” Maren waits until we are beside her car before asking.

“Where are the guys?”

“Paying the bill and fighting off piranhas.”

I give her a run-down and play the recording. Walker and Marcus join us right as the women start talking about them, hearing the tail end of the conversation.

“Emi, tell me you’re not seriously jealous of those bottom-feeders.” Walker tugs me into him and kisses the tip of my nose. “They don’t hold a candle to you.”

“Good recovery, but I had a revelation tonight.”

“What’s that?” His eyes dance with humor at the snarkiness in my tone.

“After we send our file to Ellen, you and I are planning this wedding. It’s YOU that needs a ring on your finger.”

He holds my glare for a brief second before throwing his head back and roaring into laughter. Marcus and Maren join him, furthering my frustration.

“I don’t see what’s so funny.” I decide they’re all crazy.

Walker lowers his mouth to my ear and nips my earlobe gently. “Babe, you just got a glimpse of what I’ve been dealing with for months. Anytime another man looks at you, I want to rip heads off.”

“Things like this make me wish I had a taser.”

This statement makes them laugh harder, and Walker’s hold tightens. “Can I take you home now?”

“Yes, but I need to do some work.”

“I’ll take care of it, Emi. That recording needs some editing or poor Ellen may have a stroke due to the language. Not to mention deleting the part about Walker and Marcus.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, go home with your fiancé. Walker, good luck with that wedding planning.” I catch her wink at him.

The way she says wedding planning and the little glint in her eye makes me suspicious. The three of them share some sort of non-verbal conversation while I stand there confused.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing, babe, come on. Say good night.” Walker urges me toward his truck before I can say anything at all.

“Why do I get a sneaky suspicion something is going on?” I press further when he helps me into my seat.

“Because I may have said something about always wanting to fuck a redhead.” He raises his eyebrows and grazes a finger up my inner thigh, leaving a trail of heat. I gasp when his finger inches along the edge of my lace panties. He flashes me a sexy grin before removing his hand, shutting me in.

A bolt of desire surges through my body, and I cross my legs to try and stop the tingling sensations. The combination of his grin, the swipe of his finger, and the promise in his eyes has me ready to attack him when he slides in the truck.

The cocky look on his face gives me an idea. I hoist up my dress and slowly slide my underwear off and drop them in his lap.

“What the hell are you doing?”

I shrug and bat my eyes a few times innocently.

“Emi—” My name dies on his lips when he sees me run my fingers up the inside on my thigh and under my dress. He snatches my hand and traps it on his thigh. “Don’t,” he growls.

“You started it.”

He places my hand over his pants, where his erection is outlined in his jeans. “I start it, I finish it.”

I tease him again, using my other hand and trailing my fingertips along my inner thigh.

“You touch yourself, I can’t be responsible for what happens when we get home.”

I don’t stop, purposely spreading my legs enough for him to see what I’m doing. The instant I’m close enough to touch my clit, he’s across the cab of the truck and has both my hands in one of his. There’s fire in his eyes as he brings his lips to mine.

“I warned you.” The harsh intensity in his voice has my stomach flipping. Sparks fly between us as the air in the truck heats.

“I don’t take orders very well.”

His breathing picks up as the grip on my hands tightens. “You think you can behave in the ten minutes it takes to get home?”

“We’re half an hour from your place.”

“Not tonight we’re not.”

A full body tremor washes through me and I have no choice but nod. “You get us home in ten minutes, I promise to behave.”

He kisses me briefly and moves back to his seat.

“You really should thank me,” I point out. “I’ve given you easy access.”

“Jesus,” he mutters and takes off.

“Come here.” I’m a limp noodle in Walker’s arms, too sleepy to fight him. He props me on his chest and raises my arms, sliding the soft material down and over my head. I sigh happily at the smell of his day-old cologne and scent of his fabric detergent.

“Shit, it’s a lot easier to undress you,” he complains.

“Why are you dressin…” The words fade off as I start to doze again.

I barely feel him laying me back and tucking the covers around my waist before I’m in dreamland again. There’s no telling why he’s up so early, but I can’t find the energy to care. Neither of us has to work today, so my plan is to sleep until my body recovers from what Walker refers to as “fucking a redhead’.

Maybe I shouldn’t have poked the bear, but it was too fun to pass up.

I fall back into a deep sleep, only stirring once when I hear Marcus’s voice in the living room.

No telling how much time passes, until I feel a damp, cold spot on my cheek, followed by several sniffing sounds. I swat at the air and come into contact with something hairy. My body goes stiff as my eyes flutter open. I find myself staring into the most crystal blue eyes I’ve even seen.

I squeal, yanking my head back as the eyes lunge at me.

“Come here, boy. Let’s let her wake up.” Walker speaks gently. As soon as he lifts the animal, it gives a small whine, and I realize it’s a puppy.

“Oh my God!” I scramble to a sitting position and wipe at my face to make sure I’m not seeing things. “Is that a-a-a…” the words escape me.

“Great Dane puppy,” Walker finishes for me.

“What’s he doing here?”

“He’s ours.”

“He’s ours?” As I repeat it, the dog squirms furiously, trying to escape Walker’s hold.

“Yeah, baby.”

I bounce in the bed, now fully awake, and clap a few times, which sends the puppy wiggling more. “Let me hold her.”

He lets the dog go, and it immediately pounces on me, licking everywhere. I hug it close, squealing with delight and surprise. “Hey there, sweetie,” I coo over and over.

“It’s a he, not a she,” Walker corrects me.

I nod to let him know I heard him, continuing to love on the wriggling animal. “You got us a dog?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why ruin the surprise?”

“I love your surprises!”

My arms cradle the puppy until it’s in a lying position, and I can get a good look. He’s grey like Micky, but his eyes are so much bluer. His tongue licks my arm as I rub his belly softly. “He’s so beautiful.”

“I hate to break up this moment, but we need to move him. Marcus and I took him out for a while, letting him roam the yard. But the excitement is bound to make him pee. Let’s get him off the bed.”

“Okay.” I throw my legs over the side and stand with him in my arms.

“Emi, let him down.”

“I don’t want to.”

“He needs to sniff around the house.”

“Oh.” I realize Walker’s right, so I begrudgingly put his feet on the floor and watch him scamper around in circles.

“I’ll make your coffee and meet you in the kitchen.” Walker comes to my side and kisses my temple. “We need to name him this morning. It’s important for training.”

“I can’t believe you got me a puppy.”

He lifts my chin, so we’re eye to eye, and brushes my hair back from my face. “I realized, a few weeks ago, you’ve only ever asked me for one thing. That night at my parents’, you said you wanted a dog like Micky.”

“But we agreed we had time. He needs so much.”

“This is our time.”

The words aren’t even out of his mouth and the tears well in my eyes. “This is our time?” My voice cracks.

“This is our time,” he repeats softer. “I hope these are tears of happiness.”

I squeeze my eyes as tight as possible, trying to gain control of my feelings, but it doesn’t work. The dam bursts. Tears flow down my cheeks, and when I open my eyes, he’s a blurry image. Sobs escape my throat and I throw myself at him.

Weeks of emotions come bubbling to the surface, overwhelming me as I cry for everything that has happened in the last month to bring us to this point. He’s alive, he’s healed, we’re getting married, and he bought me a puppy.

How much can a girl take before she breaks down with so much love and happiness that it shatters her heart into a million pieces?

I wail into his chest, clutching hard, telling him how much I love him. My ramblings promise him anything he ever wants, including a house full of sons, but it mostly sounds like a slobbering, blubbering mess. His body starts to vibrate as he picks me up and carries me to the bathroom, setting me on the vanity. I clutch to his shirt, still declaring my undying love and devotion, until he pries me away and runs a damp cloth over my face.

“I love you, too, but you don’t need to promise everything, because I already have you.” He somehow understood what I said.

“I’m sorry I’m crying.” I hiccup, sucking oxygen into my lungs.

“Are you happy?”

“Happier than I ever knew was possible. Are you happy?”

“I’m going to be.” His answer takes me by surprise, and my heart falls.

“You’re going to be? Does that mean you’re not right now?”

“We have one problem.”

“A problem? With us?”

“I want you to move in. Make this place your home. Do you think you can do that?”

Make this place my home? Is he crazy? I’ve been picturing myself living in this house since the first night he brought me here. I’ve even drawn out a diagram of how we can rearrange his deer in the living room so I can have shelves put in.

“I can do that,” I reply, almost breathlessly. This time, I’m able to keep the tears at bay.

“Today.”

“Today?”

“Yes.”

“We can start moving my stuff over, but it’s going to take weeks for me to get boxes, find a storage unit for my stuff, contact a realtor…”

“It’s all covered. Marcus and Maren are getting boxes now and will meet us at your place in a few hours. We’re going to move your bedroom suit into my extra room, and set up your office wherever you want. I’ll throw shit out if I need to. As for the realtor, it won’t be necessary for a while. I’ve found you a renter, and he needs a furnished place for a bit. Marcus can have someone in his firm draw up a rental agreement.”

“Who?”

“Agent Kelly is transferring to Charleston.

“He is?”

“Yeah, he’s gonna head up a small task force here.”

I narrow my eyes, knowing all this didn’t appear out of thin air overnight. “You’ve been busy. How long have you been planning all this?”

“You moving in was a no-brainer. It was going to happen sooner rather than later, but when Kelly mentioned his promotion, that set the ball in motion.”

I chew on my bottom lip and think about Bryant living in my place. There is no way a man like him will be comfortable with all the girlyness. “Maybe we can make a few changes, like switch out our couches. I’m kinda attached to my living room.”

“No problem. I’ll have Marcus bring his truck so we can load it up. He’ll help me make the switch.”

“You don’t mind?”

His face goes soft, and his dimple pops with a wide grin. “No, baby, I don’t mind. I love your stuff and am okay with whatever it takes to make you more comfortable here.”

“I’m comfortable here, but are you going to be okay with me adding color to your house? The whole masculine rustic vibe is going to take a hit.”

“That whole vibe took a hit the first time you walked through the door, and as of a few minutes ago, it’s no longer my house. It’s our house.”

My heart melts in a puddle of Walker induced goo, and I throw myself at him, squealing in delight. There’s a rustling and high-pitched bark as the puppy finds us in the bathroom and starts running circles around Walker’s legs.

“You okay for me to take him back out?”

“Yes, I’m good.” I raise my face to his and kiss him briefly. “I’ll meet y’all in the kitchen.”

He scoops up the dog and leaves me alone. I hop off the counter and flinch at my reflection. My cheeks are splotchy, my eyes rimmed red, and my hair is a mess.

“This is why you shouldn’t cry, Emi. You look like a maniac,” I say to myself and start on the damage control.

As soon as I’m somewhat presentable, I join Walker in the kitchen and notice the dog bowls on the floor and a large crate in the corner. The puppy is passed out inside, laying on a blanket.

“How did you find him?” I grab my coffee mug and curl into Walker’s side.

“Mom and Dad’s breeder.”

“I’ve always wanted a dog, but it never happened. He’s the best present ever.”

That earns me a squeeze and a kiss on the forehead. “We need to name him.”

“How did you decide on the name Micky?”

“Dad, Marcus, and I were shooting the shit around their pool one afternoon. We were drinking Michelob Ultra, so we started calling him Michelob.”

“You named him after a beer?” I look up at him in disbelief.

“Yep, it didn’t make Mom too happy. That’s why she started calling him Micky.”

“Somehow, I don’t think Lemon Drop or Chardonnay seem appropriate.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “I agree on that. He’s going to be a big dog, Emi, I’ve already spoken to a trainer and a fence company. We’re going to have to fence in the yard for him to roam, but we’ll also take him out to the cabin as much as possible.”

At the mention of the cabin, I place my mug on the counter and twist in Walker’s arms so I can face him. “I wanted to talk to you about the cabin. I think I’d like to get married out there. Would that be okay with you? I want a simple ceremony and a huge party. It’s so beautiful, and I think we could truly make it magical.”

One side of his mouth tips up in a small grin. “I think it will be perfect. Anything you want.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Does that also mean we can discuss rearranging your trophies in the living room?”

“Yeah.”

“No argument?”

“None, we can take them to the cabin if it makes you more comfortable.”

“No! They’re a part of you. I was thinking about adding some shelves to your living room…” I go on to tell him about my idea to move things around and don’t miss the glint in his eyes. Only when I mention his TV does he turn serious.

“Don’t mess with a man’s TV, Emi.”

I start to giggle at the fright on his face. “Okay.” I throw a hand up in defeat. “No moving the TV.”

At the sound of my giggle, the dog leaps up and looks around eagerly. He tromps over to us, and I pick him up, petting under his neck. His blue eyes shine so bright and so full of wonder between Walker and me.

“What if we name him Lucky?”

“Lucky?”

“Yeah, Lucky.”

“Why Lucky?”

“Because that’s how I feel right now. I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”

I glance up in time to catch Walker’s breath hitch as his eyes transform into a liquid green. My heart skips a beat when he pulls us both into his chest and places his lips against my temple.

“Lucky it is.”