In Too Deep: A Romantic Suspense Novel (46 page)

The counter clerk, a reasonably handsome kid who stood about five-ten, nodded. "Yes, how can I help you guys?"

It was my cue to take over. "I'm Sophie Warbird, and this is Marcus Smiley," I said, offering my hand in such a way as to make my already noticeable cleavage roughly the size of the Grand Canyon. "Our investment firm brought over a file on this company, and while we understand it is a bit strange to be visiting on a Saturday, do you think it would be okay if we looked around, get a feel for things?"

"Ah, sure," the kid said. He looked like he was about seventeen, maybe eighteen, and I was sure that with the show I was giving him, I'd filed a long-term spot in his spank bank. "I'm Mike Pressman, my dad owns the place."

"Really?" Marcus said, reaching over and shaking the kid's hand. "Well, you're just the sort of person I wanted to meet. So what are you doing here on a Saturday afternoon when I guess most guys your age are out with a pretty girl?"

"Covering for my brother Scott, mostly," Mike said. "He was supposed to work the afternoon Saturday shift, but he begged me to cover for him. He's got a new girlfriend, and he wanted time with her enough to not only give me his pay, but an extra hundred bucks."

"Sounds like a good deal for you," Marcus said with a disarming smile. "I do hope the young lady is worth it for your brother. Tell me, is your father around?"

"No, but I can give him a call if you want," Mike replied. "As for my brother, he told me she was gorgeous. Redhead, which my brother is weak for."

“Sure, if your dad could come down for a few minutes I'd appreciate it. In the meantime, you think you could show me around the shop?"

"Sure," Mike replied. "Let me give him a call. Uh, there's some chemicals and stuff around the shop, so it's best if you guys stay inside and don't touch much until I get back, but you can look around if you want. Three minutes or so."

Mike disappeared into the back, and Mark looked at me, for the moment his Marcus persona dropped. "Keep your eyes open," he mouthed to me while he stepped around the shop, his eyes taking in everything.

I kept most of my attention on the back, where I could hear Mike talking excitedly to someone on the phone, while Mark walked around the shop. He looked closely at a few of the items before circling the shop some more, semi-casually strutting while Mike finished up his phone call. As he came back into the room, Marcus was back, looking around at the disassembled window air conditioner unit on one of the benches. "It's been a long time since I've seen one of these monsters," he said to Mike, who came over after giving me a once-over with his eyes. "Are these still popular?"

"That's actually not an air conditioner, but I can see why you'd think it," Mike said. "That's actually part of an industrial freezer. Works the same way as an air conditioner, but it obviously blows a lot colder. This one is just in for a bi-annual checkup and recharge of the coolant, I think."

"So are you trained in the HVAC business?" Marcus asked, letting his natural charisma pull Mike in. It was safe, the kid was so young that there was no way he knew the full extent of his family's business. "No offense Mike, but you look like you're a junior in high school."

"Sophomore, actually," Mike bashfully said. "I know it's against state law for me to be here by myself, but Scott really likes this girl, and all I do is answer the phones."

"Don't worry, it won't affect my investment decision," Marcus replied. He and Mike small talked until a large Pressman truck pulled up in front, and a beefy upper middle aged man got out. His polo shirt was stretched across a stomach that looked like it had seen more than its fair share of good steaks in its time. Marcus looked at the man, then over at me, flicking his head. I read his signal, he wanted me to be in full distraction mode.

"Hello, you must be Mr. Pressman. I'm Sophie Warbird, Mr. Smiley's personal assistant."

Papa Pressman was just like his son, and could barely keep his eyes off of my cleavage and at least somewhat politely on my face. "Nice to meet you Miss Warbird. I have to say, this is highly irregular."

"We understand Mr. Pressman, and we apologize for that. It was just that Mr. Smiley was so intrigued by your petition for an investor that he wanted to move quickly. As you know, we just moved into the Mount Zion property."

"Yes, I've heard about that," Pressman said. "I have a friend who was contacted about some of the electrical work, but had to pass on the job."

"I'm sorry to hear that. While we have good heating and air now, the process taught us a lot about the importance of a good contractor. So we've been looking for a place to invest in."

"And of course maybe having someone on call who can come fix that place," Pressman said with a knowing grin. "Let's face it, places like that need repair all the time."

"They do," I conceded. "If you don't mind Mr. Pressman, let’s you and I talk while Marcus gets a knowledge lesson from your son. I do most of the investment decisions for Mr. Smiley."

"Of course, but I'll be honest I'm not exactly ready to talk numbers," Pressman said.

I waved it off with a small laugh. "That's okay, neither am I. I have all the numbers I need back at the office, in fact probably too many. I just agree with my fiancée in that the numbers don't tell us everything. The people are just as important."

"Well, the people I can talk about all day." Pressman grinned and looked over at his son. "He's the reason I asked for investment. Him and my son Scott. A single shop with four trucks is enough for me. I raised a family and I set up a good retirement for myself in about a decade. But it's not enough for two sons. So I want to spend this next decade expanding, setting everything up so that Scott and Mike can be set up in a better place than I am."

I nodded, drawing out the conversation. Pressman continued to blather on, and I could see that while part of him was trying to tell the truth, he was far too well off to be worried. I didn't know any other air conditioning repair shop owners who wore thousand dollar dive watches while at the same time trying to put himself off as only upper middle class. Eventually, I saw Marcus pat Mike on the shoulder and come over. "Sorry about that Mr. Pressman. You have a remarkable son."

"Thank you, Mr. Smiley," Pressman said. He tilted his head for a moment before shaking it. "Sorry, you just reminded me of someone for a moment."

"I get that a lot," Marcus replied. "I just seem to have one of those familiar faces to some people, I guess."

I
could barely contain
my trembling fingers as I reached for my cell phone. It was exactly twelve-fifteen, and I'd already been up since five in the morning, after a night of tossing and turning.

Scott had never left my thoughts the entire night. I'd even gotten up at about two to take an Ambien, which I hadn't done since my college days to try and reset my body clock after a weekend long party. It took a bit of the edge off, but I didn't get more than two hours of sleep all night.

I knew what Scott was asking for. And I knew what I wanted. That was all there was to it. I needed him, and I needed him like I needed air or water.

Growling in frustration, I cleared my phone's dial for the third time. My fingers were trembling so much that I was double typing numbers all the time. Finally, I took a deep breath, and tried for the fourth time. The call went through, and I prayed to whatever deities listened to women like me that I had the right number. "Hello?"

Relief and desire washed over me in alternating waves as I heard Scott's voice in my ear. "Scott, hi. This is Tabby."

I could hear a bit of a chuckle in his voice. "You waited all the way until twelve fifteen. I was beginning to think that I had guessed wrong."

"No, you guessed right," I said, feeling my heart swell and tears come to my eyes. "You don't know just how right."

"I can bet," he said, his words like honeyed potion in my ear. "And because I only got about four hours of sleep myself."

"Twice what I got," I replied. "Scott, I need you. I want you. Please, come over."

The delay while Scott formulated his answer was almost torturous. "Okay. I'm at work right now, I'll need to call my little brother to cover the rest of my shift. Can you give me an hour?"

"It'll feel like a hundred years," I said honestly, aware I sounded like a melodramatic teenager. "Can you do it any faster?"

"I'll try, but I had another idea," he said, his voice soft in my ear. "You must be exhausted. Use the hour I'm not there to lay down on your couch and take a nap. I promise, when I get there I'll wake you gently, and we'll see what happens from there, okay?"

His suggestion hit me like a ton of bricks, and my body cried out in exhaustion as well. "I think that could work," I said, stifling a sudden yawn. "One thing though, promise me."

"What's that?"

"Bring a Rockstar with you when you come. An hour nap is going to need a jolt to get me awake, and I want to be very, very awake when you get here."

"Deal. One Rockstar, as fast as I can get there. And Tabby?"

"Yes, Scott?"

"Thank you." The phone went dead in my ear, and I collapsed back on my sofa. I was asleep before my head hit the cushion I think.

The next thing I knew, I felt a gentle shaking of my shoulder. I opened my eyes to see Scott kneeling next to me, a smile on his face. "Don't freak out, I just remembered where you left your key last night," he whispered, brushing a lock of hair out of my eyes. I looked at the sunlight on the wall behind him, and was surprised at how orange it looked. "I let you sleep some more."

"How long?" I asked, sitting up. I should have been weirded out, I mean, the guy just more or less broke into my house and sat there watching me sleep for what had to be an hour or more, based off of the sunlight. Then again, it wasn't the strangest thing to happen in my love life.

"It's three thirty," Scott replied, standing up and heading into my kitchen. He came back a second later with a familiar looking black can. "Here. They didn't have any Rockstars, but I was able to grab you a Monster Zero. Hope that works?"

"Yeah, I can do that," I said, popping the tab and chugging half the can in one long draw. I finished with a burp that would have impressed Homer Simpson, before covering my mouth and blushing. "Sorry, I guess that wasn't the sexiest thing I've done."

Scott shook his head and smiled, taking another can out from behind his back. "Tell you what, let's share in the disgusting bodily functions," he said, popping his own tab before chugging the entire can in a performance that would have left any frat boy I dated in college envious, and then letting loose a burp that sounded like a cross between Chewbacca and a fog horn. "There, we're even."

The disgustingly humorous romantic gesture touched me, and we both ended up laughing as I took careful sips of the rest of my can, not wanting to choke or have energy drink shoot out my nose. I've had that happen, and it burns
bad,
even worse than alcohol because of the carbonation. "So how long were you sitting there, anyway?"

"Oh, I got here at one thirty, like I said," Scott replied. "But the look on your face was so precious I couldn't bear to shake you awake, and then when I did try, you were so out that you didn't even respond at first. So I just sat back and watched, thinking about you and what we're about to do."

"So you still want to, even after watching me belch like some biker mama?" I said, smiling. "Good, because it's all I could think of too."

Scott stood up and held out his hand, helping me to my feet before pulling me in close and kissing me. The slightly tangy taste of the energy drink was on our lips, and I thought it was appropriate, since Scott was that sort of interesting tangy sort of person. He could have had me twice, and yet here we were, and it felt more momentous than ever. Maybe he was right, and holding back made it better.

We stood there in my living room, kissing gently, and I felt happier than I'd ever been in my life. Scott held me in his arms, and I felt both powerful and protected, his lips dancing over my neck and behind my ear. Tingles ran up and down my spine as he bit my earlobe softly before tracing it with the tip of his tongue, and I could feel fresh heat radiate down to between my legs. "Oh damn, that is amazing."

"Let's head back to the bedroom," Scott said, taking my hand. "Lead the way? I only found your kitchen."

I smiled and led him back, where I had only a momentary flash of embarrassment at my unmade sheets. Sophie can tell you, I never make my bed, usually just yanking my blanket around me from wherever it happened to have ended up when I got up in the morning. My sheets were clean at least though.

Standing next to the bed, our kisses took on a feather light, tender quality as our hands took over, pulling at each other's clothes. I was wearing just a t-shirt and some jeans, not even worrying about a bra before falling asleep. I was sure Scott could see my nipples standing out against the thin cotton of my shirt, but I wanted him to look, and see how much he aroused me. "You can touch me if you want."

"First let's get this off," he said, lifting at the hem of his work shirt. The polo was the same one I'd seen him in the first time I saw him, creating kind of a time warp effect that made the previous days seem like nothing more than a surreal dream. I pulled the shirt up, and was more than happy with what I saw.

Dancing the night before I'd felt plenty of lean muscle and strength, but with his shirt off it was even more evident, the only flaw in his body being a pair of long scars that stretched from his left collarbone almost all the way to his belt. They looked like a matching set, and were a few years old at least. "What happened there?"

"Another time," he said, silencing my questions with another kiss. His lips trailed hot electricity down my neck as he sat down on my bed. I followed him, not letting his lips leave me as I pushed him back onto the sheets, both of us scooting until he was laying fully on the mattress. Straddling his waist, we kissed, while Scott ran his hands under my shirt and stroked the skin of my back, sending ripples of pleasure through my spine.