“I said, I wasn’t at liberty to comment.” Jayce glanced over his bare shoulder. “That’s still the case, Dash.”
She warmed at his pet name for her, but stayed the course. “I assumed Luke confided in you and you promised to keep whatever he told you under wraps. I thought maybe it had something to do with an old girlfriend. God knows he has hundreds. And he’s the biggest sucker in the world when it comes to a friend, especially a lady friend, in need.”
“You going somewhere with this?”
“I’ve reassessed my assumption. I think Luke hired you to find Rae. That’s why you can’t tell me anything. Professional confidentiality.”
“If that’s what you think, why are you asking?”
“I’m not asking. I’m surmising.” She watched as he shucked his jeans and boxers and climbed over her, buck naked, into bed. “You’re trying to distract me.”
“I always sleep in the raw.”
“Yeah, but you’ve got an ornery look in your eye.”
“You’re the one who got all hot and bothered by a simple kiss.”
“There was nothing simple about that kiss.”
He rolled into her. “Allow me to complicate matters further.”
She braced her palm on his chest. “Hold that thought.”
Sighing, Jayce rolled back to his own pillow and placed his hands behind his head. “Go on. Surmise.”
“Rae admitted she’s been infatuated with Luke for a long time and that things are now a mess. I think they had a thing.”
“As in an affair?”
“He does boink his waitresses on a pretty regular basis.”
“Nice way to talk about your brother.”
“Just saying. Anyway, maybe it wasn’t an affair. Maybe Luke just flirted with Rae and Sam caught wind of it. Maybe Sam confronted Luke and they had words. Think about it, Luke had a black eye the day after Rae disappeared.”
“He said he was distracted and walked into a doorjamb.”
“Maybe he walked into Sam’s fist.”
“That’s a lot of surmising, Dash.”
“None of which you’ll confirm or deny.”
“I can honestly say I’m not privy to any of your conjecture.”
She frowned. “Really?”
“Really.”
“So Luke didn’t hire you to find Rae? He didn’t fly out to California on Christmas Eve to … I don’t know. Talk her into coming back?”
Jayce reached over and tugged on one of her curls. “You need to let this go, babe.”
“Why?”
“It’s none of our business. Whatever it is, it will work itself out.”
“Like us?”
“If they’re lucky.” He rolled back on top of her, pinning her between the soft mattress and his hard body. “About that makeover. Maybe we should start with some wigs. A couple of costumes.”
Every intimate part of Rocky throbbed. “Costumes?”
“The redheaded nurse. The tight-bunned librarian.”
Rocky pushed and shifted, reversing their position. Quirking a naughty grin, she shoved Jayce’s hands above his head and squirmed against his erection. “What about the raven-bobbed dominatrix?”
Eyes dancing, the natural dominator feigned submission. “Works for me, Dash. With or without the wig.”
TWELVE
Sam’s morning started like every morning. Waking up alone. Staring at the ceiling. Listening for activity.
Rarely did he hear a sound, mostly because he woke before the kids roused. He’d always been a light sleeper, part of his combat training. Ever since he’d become a single parent, he was even more on guard.
What if Ben or Mina woke up sick or with a nightmare? What if one of them walked in their sleep and fell down the stairs?
In the hour to two before sunrise, his mind turned to the upcoming day. Making sure they were up in time, dressed, fed, and off to school. Mental reminders regarding any homework or upcoming events. Did he need to book a babysitter? Had he agreed to any playdates or sleepovers? What was he making for supper? Did he need to stop by Oslow’s?
Sometimes his mind would slip to the past. How it had been before Paula died. How she’d handled the kids and managed the household with such fricking joy. Sam wasn’t keen on dusting or vacuuming or folding laundry. Paula had tackled domestic chores with a smile. She’d taken pride in their home the way Sam took pride in his carpentry. He missed her infectious laugh, her shitty taste in music, the smell of her fruity shampoo. He missed her touch. Her company.
After two long years of grieving, Sam was ready to move on. He wanted a woman in his bed, in his life. A companion. A lover. A mother for his children.
His mind was set on Rae.
She loved kids. Was great with kids. She already had a comfortable relationship with both Ben and Mina. She was quiet, kind of like Sam, and she was kind. Kind and pretty. She was also loaded. If he thought she was a snob, the money thing would bug him. But he didn’t get that vibe. There was plenty he didn’t know about Rae, but one thing was certain—she had a gentle soul and a good heart. If she gave Sam half a chance, he was certain he could make her happy. Except he’d promised he wouldn’t press.
That was the only reason Sam was on his way to the Rothfield Farm instead of the Pine and Periwinkle. He’d told Rocky he’d meet up with Harper Day. He’d agreed to tour the woman’s house, assess what needed to be done and how much he could do. If he could help his cousin prepare for her wedding by taking the flaky publicist off her hands for a couple of weeks, he figured, what the hell? After multiple tours overseas, Sam was certain his and Rocky’s idea of “bad” were two different things. He’d weathered active combat, he could handle Harper Day.
Just as Sam turned off of 105 onto 236, his cell rang. “Yeah.”
“Are you on your way to Harper’s?” Rocky asked.
“You thought I’d back out?”
“No, but, how long do you think you’ll be?”
“No idea. Why?”
“I’m calling an emergency meeting of the Cupcake Lovers.”
“This about the recipe book?”
“During our talk last night, Rae pitched an idea that could get us back on the fast track. Then again you probably know that since you two have been yakking on the phone the past couple of weeks.”
“Your point?”
“I don’t want to you to get hurt.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Sam—”
“Leave it. What time’s the meeting and where?”
“Moose-a-lotta. Just after closing.”
Ben and Mina spent every other weekend with Paula’s parents. Sam wouldn’t have to worry about returning home at a certain time or preparing dinner or bribing Mina for her nighttime bath with a bottle of Mr. Bubble. Plenty of time to work magic on the old Rothwell house before driving back to Sugar Creek. “I’ll be there.”
“Great. That makes almost everyone.”
“Who bailed?”
“Casey’s out of town until Monday and Luke’s already committed. Can’t blame him,” Rocky said. “It’s Saturday after all. You know Luke.”
So his cousin was bartending at the Shack or showing a woman a good time. Or … he’d taken Sam’s suggestion about leaving the Cupcake Lovers. “See you then,” Sam said.
He disconnected just as he turned onto Swamp Road. Even though the two-lane roadway had been plowed at one point, Sam’s tires rolled over at least three inches of packed snow and ice. Nothing he didn’t manage on a daily basis, but he was accustomed to winters in Vermont. He was wondering how Ms. Day, who’d been living on the sunny West Coast, fared the frosty elements just as he approached the side road that—“Fuck!”
Sam swerved, narrowly missing the car that barreled out of Fox Lane, fishtailed across his path, and rolled on to its side. Adrenaline spiking, he braked and catapulted out of his truck. At least there were no other cars on the road. It could have been worse. Still, who drove that fast on ice when coming up on an intersection?