Chapter 33
Noah and Harper spent the next two hours making sure they hadn’t killed Sherman the Shark. Harper, under the guise of being his niece, found out that his widow-maker heart artery was clogged up with what looked like a solid stick of butter. Sherman had been a walking dead man.
If not for the quick intervention of a former FBI agent, he would be in the morgue with a toe tag and a Y incision across his chest.
Although the stress of being accused of murder hadn’t caused the attack, it certainly hadn’t helped. The doctor asked Harper about Sherman’s history. She admitted to not knowing and steered him toward several phone numbers she’d found on the agent’s phone during the ride to the hospital.
Before further questions were launched in her direction about next of kin and such, she claimed a stomach ache and the need for fresh air. She and Noah fled the building.
The stomach ache wasn’t a lie. She sucked at deceit.
“I’m going to hell,” Harper mumbled after they got to the car. Her eyes burned from the florescent hospital lighting.
She retrieved her hand sanitizer and scrubbed her and hands arms. Hospital germs were the worst.
“At least Gerald will be there to welcome you.”
Her lips twitched. She could always count on Noah to make an inappropriate comment to lighten the mood. “That’s not nice. Thank goodness you know CPR.”
Hooking an arm around her shoulders, he pressed a kiss on her temple. “You could look at this situation another way. We may have saved the shark. Had he been driving his car when the attack happened, he could have taken out innocent children and puppies who wouldn’t be alive today.”
She dropped the bottle in her purse and tipped her face up. “Aren’t you Mary Sunshine.”
“Hey, if the glowing globe fits—” He kissed her lips. “You always taste good.” She nudged him with her elbow when his hand slid low on her back.
“Not the time or place, Slade.”
By his expression, he conceded. Reluctantly.
“Why don’t we head back to Ann Arbor?” he said. “There’s nothing we can do here. If he is our killer, it’s unlikely he’ll be able to flee anytime soon.”
They loaded into the car and took off. There was a new whine under the hood. Harper was convinced that eventually the car would die and they’d have to push it into a ditch for burial. Then she’d owe the rental company a ghastly amount of money for failure to return the vehicle.
Not happening. She patted the dashboard. “Love you, Harvey. Just a few more days, buddy.”
Noah grunted. Ye of no faith.
The car would make it back to their lot if she had to carry the wreck to Cheap on her back.
“Do you have plans for tonight?” Noah asked. He rolled down his window when a foul smell filled the car. “You might want to pull over. I think something’s burning.”
A rest area appeared on the horizon. Harper steered onto the off ramp. Once parked, they got out. Noah popped the hood and checked the oil and radiator levels. “They’re both fine.”
He dropped to his knees and looked under the car. “Gross.”
“What did you find?”
Instead of answering, he walked over to the thick weeds on the end of the parking lot and tromped around. He finally bent and came up with a big stick. He returned, knelt, and poked at something under the frame.
Thunk.
“Is that a dead possum?” She didn’t wait to for the answer. “Gross,” she said, echoing his sentiment and pulled her shirt up over her nose. The animal was flat and way past fresh. She’d likely picked it up long after its fatal run in with another vehicle.
“Harper, come over here.” He left no room to argue. He pulled her around to the other side of the car and pointed.
Up to his eyeballs in weeds, an upraised nose sniffed the air, connected to a brown and black head, peering out from a patch of milkweed.
Not bothered at all by the presence of Noah and Harper, a coyote, skinny, mangy, and on a mission, darted out of the weeds, trotted over to the car, and bent to retrieve the possum with his sharp canine teeth.
Without pause, he lifted his road kill, spun around, and trotted out of sight.
Harper released her breath. “He didn’t even look at us.”
Noah nodded. “He wanted his lunch.” He glanced at her. “You know, being with you is one strange adventure after another.”
“Are you complaining?” She sent him a flirty glance and strolled around the car to the driver’s door.
He leaned his elbows on the roof of the rental. “Darlin’, I haven’t had this much fun in a very long time.”
Warmed by the comment, she smiled and climbed inside. “Is that why you were about to ask me out on a date before we pulled over?” The idea of having a real date with Noah both exited and terrified her. Sex, she could reconcile as a mutual sharing of pleasure. Dating seemed more like a relationship.
“I wasn’t asking you out.” His eyes filled with apology. “I’ve been trolling the society pages and Betty Anne is attending a charity event in Novi tonight. I thought we should go and scope things out.”
“Oh.” Humiliation burned her face. She shifted her attention to starting the car.
Noah nudged her arm with a knuckle. “Hey. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. There is no one I want to date more than you.”
Sex, yes. Conversation, no. She reached for the gear shift. “You don’t have to say apologize. I understand. We don’t have that kind of arrangement.”
He pulled her hand away from the shifter. Reaching behind her neck, he turned her to face him. “Once we find the killer, I’m going to ask you out to dinner, where we will have a serious conversation about where we go from there. And if you agree to give us a shot, I’ll be a happy man.”
Harper’s lids fluttered closed as his mouth settled over hers. He kissed her until she couldn’t think straight. When he lifted his head, there were no lingering doubts of his sincerity. He wanted more than sex.
Fine. But what did she want?
* * * *
Harper dug through her closet and pulled out a little red dress that she’d been saving for a special occasion. A charity event with Noah was the perfect place to dust it off. Small crystals edged the hem and bodice, giving the dress sparkle and she needed sparkle. After his comment in the car, she wanted to knock Noah’s feet out from under him.
Since his confession, she’d been feeling warm and fuzzy. Despite locking down her heart with a chain Noah couldn’t break, she just couldn’t completely shake him off.
Yes, she agreed to sex, no frills, all fun, sex. But she couldn’t quite fully give him her trust.
What if they dated, got married, and had kids? Then something crappy happened. Would Noah run for refuge with another woman? He had before. Could she take that risk?
Equal parts of her were worried, and ready, to take the next step. She so wanted to test his lovemaking skills.
With the tide turning away from her as his best suspect, Mignon was unlikely to interrupt her and Noah again. By the end of the evening, she hoped to be knee deep in the sheets with a warm and naked Noah.
After showering and flat ironing her hair for a different look, she put on makeup and a barely-there red bra and matching tiny panties. Next, she slipped into the dress and loved the feel of the satin against her bare skin.
Shoes with sparkles on the straps completed the picture. She’d just found her dress clutch when Noah arrived. She’d left the door unlocked. “You ready?” he called out.
Taking a deep breath with her hand on her chest, she walked into the living room on high heels.
Noah went still. “Wow.”
Dressed in a tux with a white shirt and bowtie, he was heart-stoppingly handsome. Not only had he shaved, but he’d had his hair trimmed. “Yeah, wow back.”
She joined him. He took her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist, sending tingles up her arm. Up close, he smelled spicy and male. If not for the chance to speak to Betty Anne, and having spent too much time on her hair, she would’ve chucked their plans and taken him right to the bedroom.
Noah offered her his arm. “Is it appropriate to be very aroused right now?”
Laughing, she linked her arm through his. “I hear you.” She steered him to the door before she lost her resolve to behave. Going with an attempted baseball analogy, she said, “You’re pitching pheromones that I’m catching.”