Despite the absurdity of the notion, her pulse ticked higher as she walked to the side window and pulled aside the curtain.
Jack waved at her.
Carlotta swung open the door. “Hello, there.”
His tie was loose and his jaw was shadowed. He leaned on the door frame. “Hi.”
“What brings you to this part of town?”
“Your sandbox,” he said, then pulled her into his arms and nuzzled her ear. “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”
“Not if you plan to sleep,” she murmured.
He closed the door behind him and practically carried her to her bed. He knew the way.
They shed their clothes and he kissed a path to the place that made her cry out. He knew the way.
Then he covered her body with his and stroked into her so deeply and so fully, it was as if he were claiming every inch of her for himself. He slanted his mouth over hers and took her breath, then gave it back, slowly jackknifing his body into hers over and over to carry them to a frightening height before they crashed over the edge together.
Afterward, Carlotta lay still, recovering...shaken. With Jack, the sex was always intense and satisfying, but something was different this time. Something had shifted.
“I can’t stay away from you,” he breathed into her ear. “I love...this.”
She closed her eyes, and listened to the sound of his heart beating against hers. “I love this, too.”
Chapter Thirty
“THREE GRAND FOR YOU,” Chance said, counting out the bills. “And three
grand for me.” He grinned. “Man, that was one marathon game.”
“Yeah,” Wes agreed, leaning over to the stuff the wad of bills into his sock. He hadn’t slept since getting out of bed the previous morning, was running on the fumes of energy drinks and Snickers bars. And the high of winning a decent pot
.
“You played like your life was on the line.”
Which it was, kind of. “Thanks.”
“What are you taking, man?”
“Taking?”
“Ritalin, Adderall?”
“No, nothing.”
“Something made you uber focused, you didn’t make a single mistake.”
“Just motivated, I guess.”
“What are you going to do with the money?”
“I’m going to buy a ring.”
“What kind of ring?”
“An engagement ring.”
Chance’s eyes bulged. “You’re getting married?”
“If she says yes.”
“Wait—which chick are you asking?”
Wes scoffed. “Liz. She’s having my baby, and I’m going to do the hard thing.”
“The hard thing?”
“Yeah, you know...the thing you don’t want to do, but you know you should. The hard thing.”
Chance looked at him as if he were insane. “Whatever, man. When are you going to pop the question?”
“Today, I guess. As soon as I buy the ring. I mean, she’s going to start showing soon, and I don’t want people thinking badly of her, you know?”
“That’s cool.”
“How are things with Hannah?”
Chance shrugged. “Okay, I guess. I don’t know—I still think she’s hiding something, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
“You don’t think it’s another dude?”
“Naw...once a girl gets a ride on my johnson, no other guy’s gonna measure up.”
“Uh-huh. So where’s the best place to buy a ring?”
“Pawn shop.”
“Really? Do girls like that?”
“That’s the great thing about diamonds, man—she’s not gonna know. Put it in a fancy box and throw a bow on top, and she’ll think you went to the mall.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“And you’ll get a lot more for your money.”
“Okay. Wanna go with me?”
“Sure, I’ll take you to my regular spot.”
He stowed his bike in the trunk of Chance’s BMW, and they rode to the west side of town to a pawn shop that looked a little seedy, even for a pawn shop.
“Are you sure about this?”
“Yeah, it’s righteous. When the tennis types in the burbs have to sell their jewels, they don’t want to go to a pawn shop in their backyard because they’re afraid their neighbors will see them. And they don’t want to drive through a bad part of town. But this place is convenient because it’s right off the interstate. They can get in, and out.”
They pulled around to park and Wes counted three Mercedes, two Cadillacs, and a Volvo, so apparently Chance knew his shit.
They sauntered in through a metal detector into one large room lined with shelves and cabinets that appeared to house anything of value—musical instruments, leather coats, even a motorcycle. The cycle made Wes’s mouth water. He’d be getting his driver’s license back soon and needed to upgrade on horsepower.
In the back, women wearing tight pants and dark sunglasses were conducting business across a counter with a couple of beefy looking guys. A stocky older woman with hair piled on top of her head approached them, chin down to peer at them over reading glasses.
“What can I do for you fellas?” Her nose wrinkled and Wes conceded that after a night in a smoky illegal card hall, they probably were not the most fragrant of customers.
“We’re buying,” Chance said.
As opposed to selling, Wes presumed. The woman’s nose wrinkle disappeared.
“You got something in mind?” she asked, giving them another once-over, as if trying to assess their net worth.
Chance jerked his thumb toward Wes. “He’s getting married, needs a ring.”
The woman’s jowly face heaved upward in a smile. “Right this way.”
They followed her to a glass cabinet that held an array of rings so vast, Wes wondered about the rate of divorce in the metro area. How on earth would he pick one?
“How much are you looking to spend?” she asked.
“Three grand,” he said.
“Two grand,” Chance said at the same time.
“Twenty-five hundred,” he corrected.
She looked back and forth between them. “Okay, let’s start over here.” She unlocked the cabinet and withdrew a tray of rings, then slid it on top of the glass counter.
Wes’s heart beat faster in his chest. He was really going to do this. Really. He wiped a hand across his forehead and it came away sticky.
“What’s your girl like?” the lady asked with a grandmotherly smile.
Meg’s face popped into his head and his first thought was he could never describe her in a way to make someone else understand the way he saw her.
“She’s pregnant,” Chance supplied in his silence.
With a start, Liz’s face replaced Meg’s. Right.
“I see,” the woman said.
“She’s classy,” Wes said. “She’s an attorney and she likes nice things.”
“She’s older,” Chance said helpfully.
“Ah,” the lady said, as if she’d grasped the situation. “How about this one?” She removed a ring from the tray and held it up. “It’s one carat, beautiful setting, 14K gold.”
Wes took the ring and swallowed hard. “Do you think she’ll like it? It’s really important that she likes it.”
The woman hesitated, then reached for a different ring and held it up. “One and a half carats, emerald cut, white gold.” She handed it to him. “She’ll like it.”
He turned the ring in the light and the diamond sparkled like a thousand fires...that would consume him forever and ever and ever.
“It’s pretty. How much?”
“Cash?” she asked.
He nodded.
“The tag says twenty-eight hundred, but I’ll take twenty-five, tax and all.”
He glanced at Chance and his buddy nodded.
“Okay.”
The woman smiled. “Let me get this to Sam. He’ll clean it and put it in a nice box.” She returned the tray to the cabinet, then headed toward the back.
“I’m gonna look at the stereo stuff,” Chance said.
Wes nodded, too tired now to work up an interest in speakers. He rubbed his eyes, then leaned on the counter...and spotted a bracelet inside that made him look closer. It was dainty. Some kind of pink metal held together links of tiny flowers, their petals every color imaginable. Even his untrained eye could see it was something special—a work of art.
“You like the bracelet?” the woman asked.
He looked up to see her standing on the other side of the counter. He nodded.
She removed it from the case and set it in front of him. “You have a good eye.”
“It reminds me of someone.”
“Not the classy attorney?”
He shook his head.
The woman nodded in understanding. “It’s a very nice piece, one of a kind. The stones are semi-precious, set in pink gold.”
“Pink gold,” he murmured. He turned over the price tag and balked at the nine hundred dollar price.
“I’ll let you have it for five,” she said.
It was stupid to buy something for a woman who wouldn’t even talk to him, who probably hated him, and rightfully so.
“I’ll take it.”
She smiled and disappeared with the bracelet. He wandered over to watch Chance fool around with speakers and chat up the bored guy working there. A few minutes later, the sales lady waved to him from the back.
Two small gift bags sat next to the cash register, one black and one white. He didn’t have to guess which one was which. He leaned over and removed the fat wad of cash from his sock and handed it to her. She counted the bills like a teller, turning the bills face up as she thumbed through them. Without losing track, she handed the twenties and hundreds to the guy next to her, who held them up to the light and checked them with a counterfeit marking pen.
“All good,” the guy said.
The woman smiled and handed Wes a receipt. “Thank you. I hope everything works out.”
“So do I,” he said, then stuffed the gift bags into his backpack.
When they got back in the car, Wes sighed and leaned his head back.
“You coming home with me?” Chance asked.
“Nah. I’m going home to take a shower and feed Einstein before I go see Liz.”
“I’ll drop you off. You working today?”
“Thanks for the reminder.” He pulled out his phone and called McCormick, his boss at ASS. The man’s voice mail picked up. Wes altered his voice to sound like he had the flu and wouldn’t be in today—he didn’t want to spread it around. After throwing in a couple of coughs to make it sound good, he ended the call.
He really didn’t want to see Meg before he talked to Liz.
“How are you going to pop the question?” Chance asked.
“I thought I’d go to Liz’s office and surprise her, you know, take some flowers, get down on one knee. Women love that crap.”
“Sounds risky. Do you think she’ll say yes?”
“I think so. She’s talked before about us being a couple, going out in public and stuff. She offered to put me through college, so I could have a career and everything.”
Chance nodded. “Sounds mainstream.”
“It’s good,” Wes said, nodding. “I mean, I’m going to have a mouth to feed so I need a steady gig. I want my kid to be proud of me.”
“Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?”
“Nah...I think it’s probably too soon to tell.”
“So, dude...what’s your dad going to think if you marry his mistress?”
Wes shrugged. Anger sparked in his stomach—Randolph obviously didn’t want anything to do with him. “Things have changed since he left. I’m a man now, and I’m with Liz. He’ll just have to deal with it.”
Chance pulled into the driveway of the townhome. “Whose car?”
Wes regarded the plain sedan and scowled. “Just some dick cop who’s got a hard-on for my sister.”
“Dude, who doesn’t? I mean, she’s smoking hot.”
“Shut up.” Carlotta was the other woman he didn’t want to face before he talked to Liz. “Change of plans. Do you mind to drop me off at Liz’s office?”
“No problem.”
A few minutes later when they pulled up to the high rise building, Chance leaned forward to look out the window. “Looks like a nice place.”
“Yeah.” Wes had never been to her office, had only seen Liz when he was in jail or at the police station or the D.A.’s office. Or in her bed.
“What if she’s not here?”
He pointed to the red Jag convertible parked in a premium spot. “She’s here, that’s her car.”
“Sweet.” Then Chance glanced over. “But dude, you stink.
I
stink, so if I can smell you, it’s bad.”
“I got it covered,” Wes said, climbing out.
“Good luck, dude.”
“Thanks.”
He retrieved his bike from the trunk, then walked it to a rack and locked it. From his backpack he pulled out a courier envelope and hat he sometimes used to gain access to places when he collected for Mouse. Then he strolled in through a revolving door and nodded to the receptionist sitting behind a vase of fresh flowers.
“Hi, there,” he said cheerfully, holding up the envelope. “Mail room?”
“I can take it,” the woman said.
“Sorry, it requires the signature of an official mail manager. Postal code stuff, such a pain.”
“In the basement,” she said, pointing to the stairs.
“Thanks.”
He walked down the stairs and through a door into a hallway. A couple of doors down, he found a vending machine room where he snagged a protein bar, a Coke, and a pack of breath mints.
A security guard walked in and nodded as he fed coins into a machine. “How’s it going?”
“Good now,” Wes said, holding up his snack. “Man, is there a bathroom down here I can use before I head back out?”
The guy pointed. “Down the hall, just past the mailroom.”
“Thanks.”
Wes wolfed down the food, then found the bathroom, which was, fortunately, empty. He stripped off his gray Cage the Elephant tee shirt and used hand soap and water to give himself a thirty-second wipe-down, then used paper towels to dry off. He put his shirt back on, this time with the stained emblem to the back, the plain back to the front. After wetting his hair, he held his head under the electric hand dryer for a quick, hot blast. He cracked open the breath mints and chewed a handful. Then he stowed the hat and envelope and walked back to the mailroom where he rapped on the half-door.
A handful of guys looked up from sorting bins, and one loped over. “Can I help you?”