She's Got the Look (31 page)

She hadn't reacted out of jealousy but rather out of
habit.

A habit she needed to break if she wanted her relationship with Nick to have any chance whatsoever of working.

“Em, this is Melody Tanner. I kidnapped her and brought her along for the ride,” Nick said.

Emma Jean's smile was wide and genuine. “I'm
so
glad to meet you.” She sounded as if she meant it. The other woman's voice wasn't a soft, Southern drawl like her groom's, but instead held almost a European accent. “Is this your first visit to Joyful?”

Melody liked the other woman's face, which looked like it'd reveal every feeling Emma Jean ever experienced. When the woman stepped closer to Johnny and slid an arm around his waist, there was no denying the expression of absolute joy.

“Yes, it is. And I'm glad to meet you, too,” Melody murmured. “Sorry to crash in unannounced.”

“It's not a problem, not at all. In case you haven't noticed, we expected a crowd,” Emma Jean said, laughing as she looked around the full-to-exploding restaurant.

Melody was about to reply when she felt a hand squeeze her butt. Sucking in a shocked breath and hoping no one had seen Nick's inappropriate gesture, she turned around to glare at him. And found herself nose to nose with a cackling old man.

“Who…did you just…”

“Mr. Terry,” Johnny said with a forbidding frown. “You'd better keep your hands to yourself.”

“Is she one of
your
friends?” the old man asked Emma Jean. He wagged his eyebrows, which were in desperate need of a pair of hedge trimmers. “From your movie days?”

Movie days? Melody didn't quite understand the reference, since from what Nick had said, Emma Jean worked as a financial advisor. And a partner in this restaurant.

Emma Jean rolled her eyes and sighed. “Mr. Terry, you know that story wasn't true. By the way, that's
Nick Walker's
lady friend you groped.”

The old man's eyes widened and he looked over to see Nick, watching him like a hawk, all simmering energy and dangerous heat. Lord, Melody hungered for the man.

Nick would never in a million years lay a hand on an old fellow who looked like a stiff wind would blow him over. But Mr. Terry obviously didn't know that. “I thought she was a bridesmaid,” he said, sounding plaintive.

“Are you pinching my bridesmaids?” Emma Jean said, her fists on her hips.

“Just a bit,” the old man said with a deep sigh. “Used to be I could pinch a lady's behind and she'd slap my face. Now they only laugh.” He looked almost mournful.

“Do you want me to slap your face?” Melody asked dryly, hearing Emma Jean snort.

Mr. Terry nodded, looking so hopeful Melody was tempted to do as he asked. But with her luck, the old guy would keel over and die. And she'd had her fill of dead guys this week.

Johnny shook his head. “You'd better be careful, Mr. Terry. Claire Deveaux will do more than slap your face, she'll knock your teeth out.”

The old man responded with a phlegmy chuckle. Clamping his lips shut, he made some slobbery sound in his mouth. After a second, he pushed a full set of dentures out from between his lips, shook them at the crowd, then sucked them back in. “Too late for that,” he said once his teeth were back in place. He sounded terribly pleased with himself. “Now, where is Ms. Deveaux? We'll see how good her aim is.” And he went off to look for Claire, whoever that was.

Melody couldn't help laughing, despite the fact that some toothless, dirty old man had just felt her up. Somehow, the unexpected moment had eased her tension, letting everything else slide away for the first time all day. All the questions and uncertainty she'd had on her shoulders for so long had somehow lightened in this place where there were no ex-husbands, no shaky businesses, no corpses, no hidden cameras.

She felt good. Better than good. She felt
joyful.

“I'm glad I came here,” she said, really meaning it.

“I'm glad you came, too,” Nick said softly, dropping his arm possessively across her shoulders.

Emma Jean and Johnny both watched, speculative but also appearing to approve. Which made Melody feel even better.

So with a genuinely relaxed and playful wink at Emma, she said, “Okay, Nick, you big dope, where's my drink?”

N
ICK'S FAMILY HAD LOVED
Melody. He'd known they would, of course—what wasn't to love? But considering the way her life had been going lately, he'd half wondered if she'd tense up and be reserved around strangers.

Uh-uh. Maybe for the first five minutes in the crowd of Joyful lunatics she'd held back. But she'd quickly loosened up…to the point where she'd let Mona Harding—former porn star turned restaurateur—drag her up to the front of the room with a bunch of other bridesmaids to join in on a chorus of “I Will Always Love You.” It was Johnny and Emma's song…apparently a remnant from that infamous prom night. Nick's wedding night.

My, how life did turn.

By the time they neared home Sunday afternoon, he was feeling both glad and regretful that he'd taken Melody to meet his folks. Glad because she'd had a wonderful time and because his mother had downright adored her—pulling him aside to tell Nick that if he let her get away, he'd regret it for the rest of his life. And glad because Melody seemed so happy. The tension had been erased from her body and she'd laughed more in that twelve-hour period than she had in days.

Regretful because she'd harassed him mercilessly for his life story all the way home.

Damn, Georgia was a big state. There was no way to evade her questions when the two of them were trapped in a car with just a slobbery dog for company for several hours.

“So you definitely weren't the Steve Urkel of your high school,” she said, referring to the conversation they'd had at Rosemary's party. “From what Emma Jean says, you got straight A's only in fighting and breaking the heart of every teenage girl in town. Especially once your big brother left for college.”

He rolled his eyes. “Em's got a big mouth.”

“Do you still have your yearbook? I want to see a picture of Daneen.”

He almost drove off the road. “Why in hell would you want to do that?”

“So I can at least scratch her eyes out on paper, if not in person,” Melody said matter-of-factly.

Oh, he loved her like this. The woman was in a feisty mood. Feisty and adorable, sexy and irresistible.

Not that he'd resisted her much the night before. They'd spent many long, glorious hours sharing a room in Joyful's one and only bed-and-breakfast, making that creaky antique bed moan even louder than Melody had. He'd explored every inch of her body, tasting and touching, kissing and licking her until she came in his mouth, purring like C.C. did when she was petted.

She'd scratched like C.C., too, judging by the marks on his shoulders. But they were worth it.

It was a good thing they'd left early this morning. Because by noon, he was sure the whole town had been gossiping that Nick's new lady friend was a screamer. So went the Joyful rumor mill, which had once condemned Emma Jean as an exporn star.

“She's just lucky I'm never going to set foot in Atlanta again as long as I live,” Melody muttered.

Still talking about Daneen. That Melody had been so indignant on his behalf when he'd told her the whole story of his marriage was the only good thing that had come of talking about it. “She's ancient history. From what I hear, she's hooked up with some music teacher and is finally trying to be a better person.”

She snorted. “Leopards, spots…ever heard of them?”

“I hope it's true. For Jack's sake,” he murmured.

Melody obviously heard something in his voice that made her realize how uncertain Nick's feelings still were about that situation. She reached out and took his hand. “He's a nice boy. I'm glad his mother let him come up to visit your mom this weekend so he could be at the engagement party.”

Nick nodded. “He's a good kid.” He fell silent, as always feeling a little confused whenever he thought about Jack. Wondering how things might have been different.

“Sometimes you have to trust that life turns out the way it's supposed to, you know?” she said softly. “If you'd stayed with Daneen, you might have been there to raise Jack, but you wouldn't have been there for those children in Kosovo. Would you?”

Her words left him stunned. Reeling. Because during the many times he'd thought about his life and the way things had turned out, he'd never once made that association. Never. Though it was a very obvious one.

He'd lashed out and joined the marines to escape the disappointment of his life. He'd been an angry kid. But the military had made a man of him, the kind of man who actually excelled under pressure, who was at his best when he was taking care of people.

“As much as I know you wish you'd had the chance to be a really good father—to prove you're not
your
father—it just wasn't the right time for it to happen.”

Not his father. Someone had obviously talked to Melody about his family. Probably somebody named Emma Jean Frasier.

Not quite sure what to say, he simply nodded, keeping his eyes forward and both of his hands on the steering wheel. Her words bounced around in his head, and he knew they'd keep bouncing until he'd had a chance to sit down and really think about them. To rethink
everything.

Suddenly, another father came to mind. Dex. Given the way Melody had spoken all weekend, she didn't know her friend, Rosemary, was pregnant. Nick wasn't about to tell her. That was the kind of thing that needed to be told by the people involved.

Besides, he didn't want to bring up anything that might raise barriers between them. Because the odds on Rosemary and Dex's chances weren't exactly great.

Not that they didn't love each other. A fool could see they did. But he didn't know if love would be enough. When two people were on such different levels—at such different places in their lives—emotionally, physically, financially—it would be damn hard to make it work for long. It would take a lot of determination and courage. Patience.

He supposed that was what it took to make any relationship work over the long term. Not that he'd ever been in one long enough to find out. Not that he'd ever even wanted to.

But glancing over at the woman next to him, turned sideways in her seat so she could reach over and scratch Fredo behind his fluffy ears, he began to wonder if, in him, he had what it took to try.

And what it would take to find out.

 

N
ICK HAD TRIED
to talk Melody into going back to his place with him—to stay there until he found out who had planted a spy device in her apartment. She'd refused. No pervert was going to keep her out of her own home. Not now that she finally had a home that was entirely her own.

“I'm sorry, I'm not leaving,” she said as they stood in her living room arguing about it shortly after they'd walked in the front door. “You checked everything again. It's clear.”

“You're not staying here by yourself, Melody. I mean it.”

She didn't like the rigid tone in his voice, but reminded herself he was simply going into protective cop mode. He'd left the playful, flirtatious lover at the city limits, and had been tense and on edge ever since they'd gotten back to Savannah.

“Well then,” she said, trying to tease him out of his unrelenting stiffness. “If you're so worried, maybe you should stay here with me tonight.” Stepping closer, she slid her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his thick hair. Tugging him close, she brushed her lips across his, coaxing him into responding.

He resisted for a half a second. Then, with a helpless groan, he wrapped his arms around her and drew her so tightly against him her feet left the floor. His mouth opened on hers, consuming her in a fiery kiss that was deep, hungry and almost desperate. He communicated a lot with that one kiss. Mostly that he still wanted her. Craved her.

And oh, God, did she want him. Now that she knew her apartment was clear of bugs or spy-cams, she wanted to rip her clothes off and have him right here in her living room. “Take me, Nick,” she demanded, not caring about anything right now except
having
him. “Take me.”

He did as she asked without hesitating, yanking her jean skirt up, his mouth never leaving hers. Tugging her panties out of the way, he plunged a finger into her already drenched body. He set a frantic pace, matching the strokes of his hand to the rhythmic plunges of his tongue in her mouth.

She was just as desperate, just as frenzied. She needed to reclaim this place. Needed to make it hers again. This was her home, and if she wanted to have wild, hungry, up-against-the-wall sex, she damn well should be able to do it without fears that somebody might be watching.

Grabbing at his jeans, she fumbled around, unbuttoning, then unzipping. She tugged his briefs away, slipping her hand inside to clutch at his thick erection and stroke up and down, knowing that with their hunger, it wouldn't take much to send both of them spiraling over the edge.

“I need to be inside you
now,
” he muttered thickly, backing her up until her thighs hit the short divider between the living and dining rooms. It was the perfect height, she realized, as Nick, still kissing her as if he needed her mouth to survive, lifted her and set her on the edge of it.

He didn't even take his pants off, or her skirt. Shoving his jeans and briefs out of the way and stepping between her parted legs, he plunged into her with ravenous, crazy passion.

Melody dropped her head back and cried out. Bracing herself on the ledge with her hands, she let Nick drive into her, over and over, until they were both panting and shaking. And, very shortly, climaxing almost in unison.

When they were spent, still heaving in deep, shuddering breaths, Nick wrapped his arms around her and picked her up. Melody held him tightly around his neck as he carried her to her bedroom and lay down with her on the bed.

“This is your place,” he said between deeply inhaled breaths. “You can do whatever you want here, Mel. Nobody's ever going to violate your privacy again. I swear.”

He understood. Without her having to say a word, he completely got what had driven her to such desperate want, to nearly rough passion. He'd known what she needed. And he'd given it to her. Which, she realized as they lay on their sides, face-to-face on her bed, his arms still around her and her legs still around him, was what the man always seemed to do.

She was about to open her mouth to thank him, and maybe to ask him how he already knew her so well, when something began to hum against her inner thigh. “Uh, that a vibrator in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” she asked with a laugh.

“My phone's on vibrate. You'd have better luck reaching it with your foot than I would with my hand,” he said with a laugh.

Melody quickly released him, sliding away on the bed as he sat up and tugged his phone from his pocket. “It's Dex,” he said when he looked at the caller ID “I'm sorry….”

“Go ahead. I need to go clean up, anyway.”

While Nick talked to his partner on the phone, Melody went into the bathroom and got herself back together. Or, as back together as she could after such wild, spontaneous sex.

Maybe she was turning into a nympho. Because thinking about all that wild, spontaneous sex was getting her aroused again. Good Lord, she'd had the man half-a-dozen times in the past three days and she was already hungry for more.

“Bill,” she told her own reflection, picturing her ex-husband's face, “I wasn't cold. You were just a
lousy
lover.”

Logically she knew her husband couldn't hear her, but it felt good—damn good—to say it out loud. She was still smiling about it when she left the bathroom, finding Nick standing in her living room, fully dressed and tucking his phone back into his pocket.

“Sorry to come and go, but I need to get to the station.”

She snorted at his bad pun. “Come again, anytime.”

He grabbed her and pressed a quick, possessive kiss on her lips, then strode toward the door. “I'll try to come back tonight. You'll be okay with Fredo?”

She looked at the dog, who'd commandeered himself a sunny spot in front of the window, and nodded. “We'll get along fine…since C.C. and Oscar aren't here.”

Nick's hand was on the knob, but he paused before turning it. “You know, I've been wondering. Oscar's named for bologna. What's C.C. stand for?”

“Cap'n Crunch. I thought she was a boy when I got her,” she explained with a shrug.

“Ahh,” he said with an understanding nod.

“It's better than Tampax, right?” she asked.

“You did
those
commercials, too?”

She nodded ruefully. “Someday, we'll have to go through my whole portfolio.”

“I'm going to have to start watching TV Land for old commercials.”

“Don't I wish,” she said with a grin. “If I'm on TV Land, that means residuals. I don't think Bill got the right to those in the divorce.” Wow, she was even laughing about her ex stealing all her money. She was definitely getting better.

Nick opened the door, stepping into the hallway. But before he left, Melody asked, “So what did Dex say? Do you have some kind of lead on the murders?”

“Yeah. He's questioning a suspect in the Manning case.”

She grew curious, wondering who had killed the man just a few short hours after she'd had coffee with him. “Who is it?”

“The connection was bad. I only caught part of the name.”

“Was I right about it being a woman?”

He nodded. “Yep. The person Dex is questioning is female.”

“I figured.”

“Dex found out who Manning had the argument with in the parking lot Thursday night. Apparently it was some stewardess he'd been dating a couple of months ago. One he'd dumped.”

“And you think she came to take revenge?” she asked, stepping out into the upstairs hallway with him.

“That's the thinking.”

“What was her name?” she asked, still curious about Manning's strange, very public death.