“That’s bullshit, Tessa. Stop making excuses and feeling sorry for yourself.”
Is that what I’m doing, feeling sorry for myself?
Don’t
I have the right to?
I said, “You don’t know me or what I’m thinking.”
Bryson leaned closer and whispered, “I know you’re more concerned about what Aaron thinks than the legacy your grandfather left you. I know you would have used me last night to keep from being alone with your pain. I know you have a huge heart, and you’re a spoiled brat.”
I took some time to let his words sink in. Other people had called me a brat, but this time it stung. “You really think I care more about Aaron than I do about my family?”
“No. I think you have your head up your ass, and you’re using him as a distraction to avoid dealing with other issues.” Bryson turned and motioned to the waitress. “We need our check.”
I thought of a few things I’d like to say to Bryson, none of which were nice. Mae always said, “If you didn’t have anything nice to say, keep your mouth shut.” but darn it I wanted to lay into him.
My phone buzzed, startling me. “Hi, Gram.”
“Hi, honey, we’re home. Where are you?” Was Mae angry or worried?
“Bryson and I went out for a little bit.”
“The bottle tree looks really pretty. You did a good job.” Her voice softened.
“Bryson and I did it. He was a big help.” I looked anywhere except at Bryson.
“I know. He called to check in a few times. He told me you’d finished it. Will you two be home for dinner?”
“Um, hang on.” I pulled the phone away and turned to Bryson. “Will we be home for dinner?”
He nodded.
“Yes, ma’am. But we won’t be staying tonight.”
“Oh?”
“I have a sleeper sofa at my apartment. We can’t all four share one bathroom, Gram.”
Mae laughed. “We’re having chicken-fried steak, mashed potatoes, and green beans. I have a hankering for some strawberry pie.”
“Sounds good. Do you need us to pick up anything at the store?”
“No, darling, but thank you.”
“Love you, Gram.”
“Love you, too, Tessa Marie.”
I put the phone in my purse. “You didn’t tell me you were calling my great-grandmother.”
“You didn’t ask.” He led me out of the restaurant.
Bryson held his hand out. “Keys.”
“What?”
“Give me the keys.”
I handed him the keys and sat in the passenger’s seat. He stood outside the car talking on the phone. I tried to listen but couldn’t hear him. He’d notice if I cracked the window to eavesdrop. He slid into the driver’s seat and started the car while I scrolled through my e-mail, doing my best to ignore him.
Bryson shrugged and put the car in gear. He seemed to know his way around, so I returned to my e-mail. I clicked through the messages without reading them, unable to stop thinking about what he’d said in the diner. My first reaction was anger, but there was some truth to his words. Maybe too much truth.
“We’re staying at your place?” His words came out of nowhere, and it took me a minute to figure out what he’d asked.
“That or we’ll get a hotel room. I thought you might not fit on Mae’s couch, and I’m tired of people coming into my room to use the bathroom. It worked great when I was eight, but now, not so much.” My attempt at humor fell flat. “I think they’ll be safer if I’m not there.”
“Good thinking.”
“Would you mind taking me to the store? I’d like to pick up some ice cream for dessert.”
“No problem. Tell me where to go.”
I turned my head to hide my grin. I’d tell him where to go, all right.
Bryson parked next to an unfamiliar car, glancing between me and the car.
“Could be anybody.” I frowned at my cutoffs and baggy T-shirt. I hadn’t dressed for company.
“Stay put.” Bryson did the bodyguard thing, looking for monsters hiding in the yard.
“The ice cream is melting.”
He ignored me.
By the time he opened my door, I wanted to tell him to just take me to my apartment. One look at his face and I decided not to test his patience.
We walked through the front door, and I stopped short, causing Bryson to bump into me. Aaron sat at the kitchen table enjoying a sandwich. I needed to tell him to stop dropping by unannounced. I had enough on my plate without worrying about him. “Aaron? What are you doing here?”
“Hey. Sorry to come by without calling, but I want to talk to you.” He stood.
I shoved the ice cream into the freezer and turned. Mae, Dottie, and Bryson’s constant presence crowded the room. If Aaron planned to discuss my conversation with Samuels, I wanted privacy. “Outside?”
“No.” Bryson stood in front of the door. Would he stop us from leaving?
“Bryson.” I’d had about all I could take of him for one day.
“She’s safe with me,” Aaron said.
Bryson bowed his head and moved from the door. Thankfully, he remained quiet. Mae and Dottie exchanged a look; neither seemed happy. I resolved to return to my apartment as soon as possible. I had no idea what had crawled into their tea, but the last thing I needed was another lecture.
I marched out the door with Aaron on my heels. “There’s a reason people leave home when they’re grown.”
Aaron nodded, his face as unreadable as Bryson’s. “We need to talk.”
We settled onto the porch swing at Dottie’s—close enough to the house to appease Bryson, and far enough away for privacy. Aaron wasted no time in getting to the point. “Why were you holding hands with Bryson in the diner?”
“I don’t remember holding his hand.” Samuels had tattled.
“What’s the scoop with Bryson? Why is he so protective?”
I took a second to get my words in order before answering. “The elders of the tribe asked him to keep me safe. Word about the break-in and the shooting got back to them, and they were worried.”
“He isn’t your cousin?” Aaron leaned back.
“Not by blood. We’re connected through the tribe and share a similar lineage.
Cousin
is the closest word I could think of to explain it.”
“Okay.” His jaw tensed.
“Samuels saw us and got the wrong idea. He told me to stay away from you.”
Aaron turned toward me. “I know. He thinks you were involved with the Rivera murder. Somehow both cases are tied together. I told him you were a psychic.”
My jaw dropped. “Oh God.”
“He took it better than I thought he would. He says he believes in mediums, but he still doesn’t trust you.”
“Samuels believes in mediums?” The idea of the detective having his cards read made me grin.
“He’s not as bad as he seems, Tessa. He’s seen a lot. Not much surprises him anymore.”
“Okeydokey. Now what?” I relaxed against the swing.
“He agreed to take you to the crime scene.” He watched me, as if gauging my reaction.
“Sure. I can do that, if you’re there, and Bryson. He’ll flip if I go without him. He’s taking the whole bodyguard thing pretty seriously.”
“Bodyguard.” Aaron said the word as if it were something foul.
“It’s important to him.”
“What’s the deal with your leg? Samuels said you didn’t have a scratch.”
“I used a home remedy of Mae’s, fixed me up.” I’d planned to put a bandage where the wound had been, but didn’t have time. “I heal fast, I guess.”
“Not like you could fake the injury in the hospital. Hell, I saw how badly it was bleeding after you banged it on the desk.” He leaned forward and looked over my calves, then shook his head. “Damn.”
“It was just a flesh wound.”
Aaron stared for a beat. “I’ll let Samuels know you agreed to come.”
“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”
“He’s a good guy, once you get to know him.” Aaron’s shoulders relaxed as he leaned back.
“Does Samuels ever use his first name?” I wrinkled my nose. Richard was fine, but the nickname that went along with it suited him much better.
“Only his wife gets away with it.” Aaron kissed the tip of my nose.
The sweet gesture reminded me of Charlie. Here, sitting on his porch swing, it hit me like a punch to the stomach. I pulled away and closed my eyes, trying desperately to keep my emotions under control.
“Tessa?” Aaron took my hand. “What’s the matter?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook my head. “Charlie used to kiss my nose like that.”
Aaron draped his arm around me. “I wish I could tell you it will get better. Just the other day a woman walked by me at the grocery store, and she was wearing the same perfume my mother wore. I had to go splash water on my face, it hit me so hard.”
“When do you want to go to the house?” As soon as I changed the subject, I wished I could console him. He deserved someone who cared that his mother’s death still hurt him. Normally, I was that kind of person, but right now I needed the emotional wall between us.
Aaron pulled his arm back. “We could go now. I just need to check in with Samuels.”
“Sorry I changed the subject so fast. I’m not ready to talk about it. If I start crying, I’ll never be able to stop.”
“I get it, but sooner or later, you’re going to have to let it out.”
“I know. Maybe when my life gets back to some semblance of normal.” I’d spent enough years in psychology classes to know that my preferred coping mechanism was denial. Hell, I’d counseled countless clients to face their feelings. Perhaps that old saying about doctors making the worst patients was true for more than physical health.
Aaron started to speak, but stopped and looked away. He pulled his phone from his pocket and called Samuels. I walked inside Charlie’s house to give Aaron some privacy. It was peaceful inside, and smelled like home.
I wandered into the office and sat behind the desk. For the first time, I could read the handwritten labels on the glass jars and old coffee cans. Herbs, plants, and a few things that made my stomach churn filled the jars. If being a medicine woman meant I’d have to collect bits and pieces from snakes and frogs, I didn’t want the job.
“Tessa?” Aaron stood in the doorway with a tentative look.
“Come on in.” I rested my head against the leather chair. “This is Charlie’s office.”
Aaron nodded and stepped inside. His eyes changed from normal to detective as he looked over the shelves. I didn’t worry about explaining the jars—he couldn’t read them, yet something about the way he looked around made me nervous. Maybe in detective school they taught students how to make perpetrators nervous so they would spill their secrets.
“Is he going to meet us?”
“Yeah, he’s wrapping up some stuff at home. We’ll meet at the house in a couple of hours.”
I turned my head. I’d agreed to go, but my nerves kicked in. “All righty, then. I hope this works.”
“If it does, it does.” Aaron moved to my side of the desk and captured my chin between his thumb and forefinger.
I met his eyes. He smiled and brushed his lips across mine. Another of my less-than-healthy coping mechanisms kicked in: distraction. I wrapped my arms around his neck and drew him down until he deepened the kiss. One minute it was sweet and innocent, the next it was a hot mess of tongues and urgency.
Aaron gripped my sides, half lifting me from the chair. I stood, and we swapped places. I climbed into his lap, facing him. He moved his hands under my T-shirt while my hands tangled in his hair. I rolled my hips forward as he drew my lower lip between his teeth. Aaron lifted my shirt until we had to break the kiss for him to pull it off. Before the shirt hit the floor, he dipped his face to my shoulder and kissed a line from my collarbone to my breast. He met my eyes, as if asking permission. I nodded my consent.
I needed this. I needed to lose myself in him and forget. My bra came off. I closed my eyes and focused on his hands moving over my body. He cupped my bottom as he ran his tongue over my breast. I deserved to feel something other than pain. I pushed my chest forward, and he closed his lips over my nipple. I tugged on his shirt until he eased back and pulled it over his head.
Oh my God, he is gorgeous.
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled my body against his. I knew he was built, but seeing him shirtless beat my expectations.
Aaron kissed me before I had time to second-guess myself. I was batting above my average with Aaron, and I knew it. He slid his hands over my butt again, only this time he lifted me as he stood. I wanted to protest that he’d throw his back out from lifting me. Instead, I wrapped my legs around him and ignored my heart slamming against my chest.
“Aaron.”
“I got you.” He carried me to the bed and eased me down. “You’re so beautiful. You remind me of that cartoon character. What’s her name?”
“You mean Jessica Rabbit?” Why did everyone equate me to a freaking cartoon?
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
I turned toward him as he stretched out alongside of me. I wished he’d crawled on top of me, or had turned the bed down so I could hide under the quilt. He grinned when I reached for the button of his jeans.
“You sure?” Aaron ran his hand down my chest.
“Yeah, are you?” I felt his certainty when fumbling with his zipper.
“Absolutely, but hang on.” He pulled back, hopped up, and locked the door. On the way back to bed, he slid out of his jeans.
“Wow.” I couldn’t turn away.
Aaron chuckled and made quick work of my cutoffs, slowing his pace as he ran his hands from my ankles to my hips. He looked me over as if trying to decide where to touch.
I blushed from my chest to my forehead. I hated feeling exposed and vulnerable. Aaron leaned in to kiss me, but I slid under the quilt.
“Never figured you for a shy one.”
“Only in the bedroom.” I pulled my panties off and dangled them on one finger.
“Uh-huh.” He chuckled and buried his face into my neck. My breath hitched as he drew my skin between his teeth. “Careful, I mark easily.”
He nodded slightly and dropped his head lower. “But you heal fast.” He murmured, “You’re so hot.”
One word struck me:
hot
. I was hot. Not the sexy, beautiful kind of hot—temperature hot. My body kicked off an abnormal amount of heat. Talk about a mood killer.
He couldn’t see my frown with his face in my breasts. “Aaron, wait. I can’t do this.”